Page 25

Friday came round fast again. The week had been productive. He’d hit every one of his deadlines, he was ahead on design time and the team were all buzzing with the week’s achievements. They’d hit one road block, but he knew the answer to the problem lay somewhere in the first game – it might just take a bit of time to work out what it was. He’d spent the day in the London office, and by 4 p.m. was happy to send everyone home.

‘Drink, Fox?’ His key programmer was buttoning up his duffel coat, nodding over the road at the local pub.

Fox hesitated and checked his watch, knowing full well that if he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t make it home before the end of Friday Fun Club. An image of George with rosy red cheeks from the walk home sprang to mind. He shook his head.

‘Not tonight,’ Fox said, wrapping a scarf around his neck. ‘Want to get home to the boys.’ The programmer nodded and turned towards the door, shouting goodbye. He noticed the new designer going with him and the rest of the team, pulling on mittens as she went. Ellen? Erin? He hadn’t met her properly yet, but it looked like she’d settled in well if she was off to the pub with everyone. He should check on her progress next week. She was bright, he’d noticed that; she had good ideas and was confident in suggesting options and solutions in meetings. She was attractive too, he couldn’t deny that.

She caught him watching her and waved, a slight flush on her cheeks. He lifted a hand in goodbye and quickly looked away. Time to go and see the boys, and Robyn.

Since the Twister game, he’d maintained a healthy distance between them, letting her leave as soon as dinner was eaten. Anything rather than dwell on the feel of her body underneath his, the sight of her face looking up at him, close enough to kiss. He just needed to keep things professional.

Friday night didn’t quite work out like the other nights, though. He got home in good time, but the boys were already there. Both of them wore aprons and oven gloves, and Robyn stood behind them, smiling.

‘Don’t tell me Friday Fun Club was cancelled again?’ Fox asked, hanging his coat on the hook.

‘Yep,’ said George, looking very happy about the fact.

‘But cooking with Robyn has been much more fun,’ said Reggie. Fox wiped a smudge of flour from his son’s nose.

He sniffed the air, but it didn’t smell much like the Friday night spaghetti Bolognese he was expecting. In fact, it smelled a lot more fragrant than that.

‘We made a curry!’ Reggie shouted.

‘It’s a bunny one!’ George clarified.

Robyn laughed, her hair tied up in one of those silky scarf things she liked. She was ten times prettier than Ellen or Erin from the office – not that he should be noticing that kind of thing. He shook himself.

‘Wait, what? Rabbit curry?’ he spluttered. Robyn laughed again.

‘It’s called bunny chow,’ Robyn said. ‘It’s something we ate a lot in South Africa. But don’t worry, the meat is chicken.’

She pointed over to the table where the curry was served inside a hollowed-out loaf of bread. Fox’s mouth watered. This beat beer and peanuts at the pub any day. Over dinner, Robyn told the boys stories about South Africa.

‘It has the biggest land mammal, one of the biggest reptiles and the biggest bird in the world!’ she said, showing them photos on her phone of African elephants, leatherback turtles and ostriches.

‘Did you ride them?’ George asked excitedly.

‘You can’t ride them!’ Reggie scoffed. ‘They’re wild. It wouldn’t be right, would it, Robyn?’

Robyn agreed, scruffing his hair, and Fox saw his son’s chest swell with pride. He obviously wanted to impress her.

‘What did you do for fun then, if you weren’t allowed to ride the animals?’ George asked.

Robyn threw a shy glance at Fox. ‘We played your daddy’s game, actually . . .’

Reggie sat up like a meerkat, eyes darting between them.

‘Did you have an Xbox in Africa then?’

‘Sometimes there might be a console at a hostel. But we played on our phones too.’

‘Do you like it?’ George asked, round his thumb.

‘It’s my favourite game,’ she said, and Fox felt his own chest swell.

‘What!’ Reggie exclaimed, horrified. ‘Better than Twister?’

‘I don’t think anything is better than Twister,’ she said and then she met Fox’s eyes. And held them. He felt his stomach lurch. Was she flirting with him? He must be imagining it, surely? Flustered, he somehow agreed to more telly time for the boys and they scarpered to the front room, leaving Fox and Robyn alone.