and setting a place for him at the table. She felt unbelievably skittish and was grateful to have something to do to distract her.
‘Did you sleep all right?’ she asked him.
‘Yeah, I slept great, thanks.’ She noticed him wince slightly as he sat down at the table.
‘Is your head okay?’ She poured him a glass of orange juice and put it on the table in front of him. ‘Do you want some paracetamol?’
‘No thanks. It’ll be fine after some food.’ He grabbed the
glass of juice, draining it in one go. ‘God, how much wine did we put away last night?’
‘Quite a lot in the end – at least a bottle each.’
‘Ouch! I think I’m out of practice. You look very bright-eyed.’
‘Well, I probably had more to eat last night than you did. So, what would you like for breakfast? I could make you a fry-up, if you like.’
‘No thanks. I’ll just have what you’re having. This looks very decadent,’ he grinned, indicating Romy’s half-eaten slice of cake. ‘Do you generally have cake for breakfast?’
‘Just on special occasions.’ She placed the fresh pot of coffee on the table.
‘So what’s today’s occasion?’ he asked, pouring himself coffee as she sat down opposite him.
‘It’s … the day after Hallowe’en. The first of November!’ ‘Well, happy first of November!’ he said, clinking his mug against hers.
‘Ihave normal breakfast foods if you’d prefer. There’s muesli, or I could make you toast?’
‘No, this is great,’ he said, as Romy cut him a huge wedge of cake. ‘It’s a treat. Mom doesn’t let me have cake for breakfast.’
‘Right, I forgot. Does she make you eat up your vegetables at dinner too?’
‘Yep. I have to clear my plate or I’m not allowed any TV.’ Romy giggled. ‘It must be quite hard living at home at this stage.’
‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘I mean Mom and Dad are great, but it’s not easy. Still, hopefully it won’t be for long.’
The microwave pinged and Romy got up and retrieved a small jug. ‘There’s butterscotch sauce to go with the cake if you want,’ she said, holding it out to Kit as she sat down again.
‘Yes please.’ He took the jug from her and poured a generous dollop of sauce over his cake. ‘Wow, this is the best breakfast ever. It’s what you dream being a grown-up will be like when you’re a kid – cake for breakfast, ice-cream for dinner …’
‘Yeah, and then when you finally do grow up and you’re
old enough to do whatever you want, you’re too sensible and you don’t want to do that stuff anymore.’
‘Sad, isn’t it?’
‘Adulthood is wasted on adults,’ she sighed.
Just then her mobile buzzed, vibrating on the table, and she picked it up, checking the message. It was her mother, saying she was on her way over with Luke and would be there in about ten minutes. She closed the message and tossed the phone back on the table. Then suddenly realisation hit her. She gasped and rose to her feet, clapping a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my God, Mum’s on her way over!’
Kit looked up at her uncomprehendingly. ‘Well … that’s okay, isn’t it?’
‘No,it’s not! You can’t be here!’
‘What?’ He laughed in surprise. ‘Oh, are you afraid she’ll think we shacked up last night? Just tell her I slept on the sofa. It has the advantage of being true.’ He shrugged unconcernedly and went back to his cake.
‘No!’ Romy whisked the plate away, leaving his fork hovering in midair. ‘It’s not that. ‘You just … you seriously can’t be here when she comes.’
‘Why not?’ He frowned.
‘She – she doesn’t like you.’
‘Oh, come on,’ he said, reaching to take the plate from her hand. Romy moved it farther away, extending her arm fully to hold it out of his reach. ‘That was ages ago. Let me stay and meet her and she’ll see how well I turned out.’
‘No, you have to go!’ Romy said urgently.
‘But that’s ridiculous. I’m sure you’re overreacting. I mean, it’s not as
‘Did you sleep all right?’ she asked him.
‘Yeah, I slept great, thanks.’ She noticed him wince slightly as he sat down at the table.
‘Is your head okay?’ She poured him a glass of orange juice and put it on the table in front of him. ‘Do you want some paracetamol?’
‘No thanks. It’ll be fine after some food.’ He grabbed the
glass of juice, draining it in one go. ‘God, how much wine did we put away last night?’
‘Quite a lot in the end – at least a bottle each.’
‘Ouch! I think I’m out of practice. You look very bright-eyed.’
‘Well, I probably had more to eat last night than you did. So, what would you like for breakfast? I could make you a fry-up, if you like.’
‘No thanks. I’ll just have what you’re having. This looks very decadent,’ he grinned, indicating Romy’s half-eaten slice of cake. ‘Do you generally have cake for breakfast?’
‘Just on special occasions.’ She placed the fresh pot of coffee on the table.
‘So what’s today’s occasion?’ he asked, pouring himself coffee as she sat down opposite him.
‘It’s … the day after Hallowe’en. The first of November!’ ‘Well, happy first of November!’ he said, clinking his mug against hers.
‘Ihave normal breakfast foods if you’d prefer. There’s muesli, or I could make you toast?’
‘No, this is great,’ he said, as Romy cut him a huge wedge of cake. ‘It’s a treat. Mom doesn’t let me have cake for breakfast.’
‘Right, I forgot. Does she make you eat up your vegetables at dinner too?’
‘Yep. I have to clear my plate or I’m not allowed any TV.’ Romy giggled. ‘It must be quite hard living at home at this stage.’
‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘I mean Mom and Dad are great, but it’s not easy. Still, hopefully it won’t be for long.’
The microwave pinged and Romy got up and retrieved a small jug. ‘There’s butterscotch sauce to go with the cake if you want,’ she said, holding it out to Kit as she sat down again.
‘Yes please.’ He took the jug from her and poured a generous dollop of sauce over his cake. ‘Wow, this is the best breakfast ever. It’s what you dream being a grown-up will be like when you’re a kid – cake for breakfast, ice-cream for dinner …’
‘Yeah, and then when you finally do grow up and you’re
old enough to do whatever you want, you’re too sensible and you don’t want to do that stuff anymore.’
‘Sad, isn’t it?’
‘Adulthood is wasted on adults,’ she sighed.
Just then her mobile buzzed, vibrating on the table, and she picked it up, checking the message. It was her mother, saying she was on her way over with Luke and would be there in about ten minutes. She closed the message and tossed the phone back on the table. Then suddenly realisation hit her. She gasped and rose to her feet, clapping a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my God, Mum’s on her way over!’
Kit looked up at her uncomprehendingly. ‘Well … that’s okay, isn’t it?’
‘No,it’s not! You can’t be here!’
‘What?’ He laughed in surprise. ‘Oh, are you afraid she’ll think we shacked up last night? Just tell her I slept on the sofa. It has the advantage of being true.’ He shrugged unconcernedly and went back to his cake.
‘No!’ Romy whisked the plate away, leaving his fork hovering in midair. ‘It’s not that. ‘You just … you seriously can’t be here when she comes.’
‘Why not?’ He frowned.
‘She – she doesn’t like you.’
‘Oh, come on,’ he said, reaching to take the plate from her hand. Romy moved it farther away, extending her arm fully to hold it out of his reach. ‘That was ages ago. Let me stay and meet her and she’ll see how well I turned out.’
‘No, you have to go!’ Romy said urgently.
‘But that’s ridiculous. I’m sure you’re overreacting. I mean, it’s not as
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