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‘Are you listening to me? I said stop, Matty.’
Dynasty came on, Alexis Carrington taking over the screen.
‘Such a bitch,’ I muttered appreciatively.
‘I don’t like that language, Sophie.’
Matty chuckled.
‘But I guarantee she likes that reaction.’ He yawned widely, stretched. ‘I might do a chocolate run. Anyone else fancy a treat?’
‘There are some Cornettos in the freezer, I think.’
He put on an Italian accent, sang the jingle from the advert.
I chucked a cushion at him.
‘You’re terrible.’
‘So’s your aim.’
The atmosphere wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely an improvement on the previous evening.
‘If you’re not interested in marriage, perhaps we should call it quits,’ my mother had told Matty in no uncertain terms.
I was on my bed reading Just Seventeen. They were in the hallway, her shouting a foil to Matty’s calm. It always went that way when they argued. She lost her temper, he kept his cool.
‘If that’s really what you want.’
‘I know I don’t want a man who can’t commit after nearly four years.’
‘Haven’t I committed in other ways?’
‘Not with a ring, you haven’t.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’
‘You’re sorry I feel that way? Just get out.’
The old sinking sensation in my stomach returned, the sicky feeling that always accompanied it.
I heard the front door click shut. Something being thrown at a wall. The sound of china smashing. Not long afterwards the bell rang.
My shoulders loosened, the tightness in my chest released.
I peeked out. Watched as my mother gave her reflection a quick check in the hall mirror before opening the front door.
‘Oh, Des. It’s you.’
Her body sagged.
‘I erm. . . just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard rowing and um. . .’ He cleared his throat, a death rattle of shifting phlegm. ‘I always thought you were too good for him.’
‘It was kind of you to look in. But I’m fine.’
She moved to close the door. A black army boot blocked it.
‘I could stay a bit if you like. Make you a tea or—’
