done! It burns about a thousand calories doesnât it?â
âHa, yes, especially if I go on top!â She was grinning, highly sloshed. I put my arm round her to steady her.
âHa, ha.â
âYou didnât want to then?â
âNo, of course I didnât! Iâd only just met the guy. Then he said it was a joke.â
âWell, it probably was. Go out with him, Daryl! What have you got to lose?â
Only my dignity, my sanity, everything. Possibly my knickers.
âNothing, I suppose.â
âWell, there you are then.â
Yes, there you are. Iâd think about it properly once Iâd got home and got the bloody Spanx off.
I dropped Sam off then drove home. It was late, almost midnight. I was very quiet as I locked the car and made my way up the drive. Willâs kitchen light was on. I could see a shadow, moving about in there. Suddenly, he appeared at the window, looking all handsome and a bit dishevelled, in a white shirt. He smiled and did a half-wave; I smiled and did a half-wave back.
See you tomorrow, I said in my head. Then remembered I had the date with Ben now, too. How was I going to fit everything in? I solved it, easily: Will was coming at half five; I could make the date with Ben later on, say nine. I could fit everything in. And I hope you meant what you said when you told me you were good at decorating, I added silently, to Will, as I got my keys out of my bag and let myself in the house, because I really donât have a clue.
Chapter Eight
Tuesday
My radio alarm went off at seven. This morning I would have been woken by a jaunty Rick Astley number, but I was already awake, as Freya had rung me at six.
âMum!â sheâd said, all chirpy.
âFreya? Itâs really early, darling.â
âSorry!â
Freya is almost the exact opposite of me. Sheâs very organised, has her life super-structured and is always up at the crack of dawn so she can start getting on with things. She was like that when she lived at home and sheâs still that way now, living with a bunch of her former Smithâs Economics students at that house in Merton, and working at her first job, as an investment analyst (I know!), in a big company in Hammersmith. She got a first, as I knew she would (Economics! Where did she get that from?) and was doing brilliantly.
My girl. Sheâs always been a driven, very motivated spirit. On her first ever day at nursery sheâd run in without a backwards glance and it was the same at school. She never wanted me to meet her at the gate; she wanted to walk to the car. She resisted hugs and kisses; she was always too busy. I knew she wouldnât want to move into my new house with me â my hope that sheâd be one of those offspring that stay at home until theyâre forty, eating their parents out of house and home and refusing to pick their feet up for the hoover, came to nothing. Sheâs far too independent. But I had a bedroom here for her whenever she wanted it. Even if it was currently covered in Handy Manny wallpaper.
Sheâd looked after me for the last year â mopping up tears, making sure I was okay, doing things for me â but now it was my turn to mother her again. Starting with supporting her at her graduation on Friday.
âI was going to ring you today,â I said. âAbout the graduation.â
âThatâs why Iâm phoning you , actually, Mum. I need to tell you something.â
âUh-oh, that sounds ominous. What is it?â
âGabbyâs coming.â
I sat up, violently, knocking my head on the headboard. Ouch.
âWhat? She canât be! Itâs only two tickets per family!â
âI know, but Dad sold the uni registrarâs house for him, didnât he? So he called him and wangled another ticket.â
I groaned. âI donât believe this! You have to tell him she canât come!
âIâve tried, Mum, but you
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