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“Can you be a groupie if you're married to the lead singer?” I ask, not hiding the sarcasm in my voice. “Anyway, what kind of groupie drags a six month old baby around with her?”
“The best sort.” Beth's voice is warm. “The baby-momma of the lead singer sort.”
“Ugh, I'm pretty sure nobody wants a groupie with stretch marks.”
“I'm pretty sure Alex does.”
That's true. The changes to my body haven't phased him one bit. He still constantly grabs at me, running his hands down my body the same way he always has. “And how are your lot? Is Allegra looking forward to the school holidays?”
“She can't wait. I've booked her into extra dance lessons. She wants to be a ballerina.”
“And Niall?”
“He's still Niall. Covered in paint and planning out his next exhibition.”
Everything has finally come together for her. There's nobody who deserves happiness more than Beth. It's been a long time coming. “Maybe we'll come over and visit soon,” I suggest. “I need a bit of Beth time.”
“That sounds great,” she agrees easily. “We could leave Niall and Alex with the kids and go out on the town. Paint the place red.”
A night out? Dancing and drinking and a giggle with my best friend? It sounds like heaven. “You've sold me. I'll text you some dates.”
“Perfect!” She sounds as happy as I am. “I can't wait.”
* * *
The first thing I notice when I open the door to our building is the smell. The usual musty aroma of damp and dust has disappeared, replaced by something I can only describe as clean. I shift Max on my hip and look around the hallway, wondering what on earth happened to the pile of envelopes that have been living in the corner for the past two years.
“Err... ooh... bwrll.” Max starts to babble, pointing at the stairs.
I nod solemnly. “Yes, we’re going to go upstairs now.”
A click to my right alerts me. I turn to see the door to the ground floor flat open. Our new neighbour, David, pops his head around, smiling when he sees me. “Hey.”
“Hi. What happened in here? Did I miss a nuclear bomb? A tornado?”
“I had a bit of time on my hands. Decided to give the place a clean-up.” He shrugs, walking out of his flat and leaning on the doorjamb. “I took a look through all that stuff in the corner, I don’t think any of it belonged to you. If it did, it’s only out the back in the yard.”
“It’s okay, it’s not mine. I think it belonged to the last tenant. Or the last but one, something like that.” I look around, marvelling at the lack of dust motes and the way the black marks no longer line the wooden floor. “It looks great. You should have said something, I could have helped.”
“Nah. I figure the ground floor is my responsibility. You guys can have the upstairs.”
This time I start to laugh. “I’m glad you haven’t seen it up there. It’s almost as much of a pigsty. I haven’t had a chance…” I look at Max as if he’s an excuse. Not that he is, really. I’ve had a hundred opportunities to clean, every time he takes a nap.
“Ahhh, you can’t do everything when you’ve got a nipper. Maybe when he’s older.”
David is way too nice for his own good.
“That gives me a bit of time to think up a better excuse. Thanks for that.” I give him a cheeky grin.
“At your service.” He takes a mock bow and sends me a wink. Not that he needs to, I’ve already decided I like him. “So, what do you guys have planned on this beautiful Friday evening?”
“I’m going to a gig.”
“Isn’t he a little young? Or do they have high chairs at venues nowadays?” David walks towards us and tickles Max, who starts to giggle uproariously. “Although I can see this guy being the life and soul of the party.”
Max wriggles in my arms, more interested in David than staying safe. I try to pull him back. “This little fella has a date with a cot and a babysitter. It’s my husband’s band, they’re playing at a club in Hoxton.”
“He’s in a band? Anybody I’ve heard of?”
