doubtfully.
Josh wiped his mouth with his napkin. He nodded.
'Yep.'
Froggy's eyebrows reached for the ceiling.
'Fucking hell! ...That's quick, isn't it?'
Joshua pushed the plate away.
'You said yourself she's impatient,' he shrugged. 'Well, so am I. And now that I know the banker isn't on the scene anymore...'
He took a sip of coffee and sat back, weighing up Froggy's reaction. He started biting his fingers.
'You know what they say...' Josh said quietly, 'about how you just know?'
'Aye, I do that there laddie,' Froggy murmured, dark eyes glittering back. Josh watched the smile slowly parting his lips.
'I fucking knew it!' Froggy boomed, the grin creasing his face from his mouth to his temples. Josh flinched as Froggy launched across the table.
'I'm so pleased for ye Snowy! She's just... Ach, she's lovely!'
'All right, all right...' grumbled Josh, awkwardly patting Froggy's shoulders then pulling out of his arms. 'Thanks.' He sat back down embarrassedly, feeling his cheeks heating up. 'She hasn't even said yes yet.'
Froggy raised an eyebrow, cocking his head.
' Y've nay worries on that score. Are y'blind? The wee girl's crazy about ye!'
Lucy pushed her little trolley around an almost deserted Sainsbury's, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She'd never had a man give her money and tell he r to go shopping. It felt fairly ridiculous, and yet... sort of nice.
She paused in the chilled section, shivering into his sweatshirt, poring over the rows of cardboard boxes. She couldn't do pastry - who was she kidding. Her nose crinkled at chicken; not after the decapitated cockerel he'd had to deal with that morning. She grabbed a Taste The Difference steak pie.
Lucy shuffled up the path, keys dangling from her teeth by their leather fob, arms wrenching out of the sockets, praying the bags wouldn't split. Her blue eyes flickered briefly up to the thatched cottage. It looked even prettier in the daylight, even beneath a white sky. She smiled. Who would have imagined Josh lived in a house like this.
Once she'd finally got the door undone, she wrestled with the shopping bags, prizing off her trainers by the heels and kicking them off on the mat, closing the front door with her bum. She stomped to the kitchen, using her last shred of muscle power to wrench the bags up onto the counter. Josh was right. She probably didn't have the upper body strength for a wingsuit. Her hands were violently shaking, covered in blazing red criss-crosses from the handles of the bags.
She took out the bottle of Merlot, clunking it down on the side. Did Josh even like wine? She'd never seen him drink it. They didn't need a bottle opener - it was a screwtop. Lucy frowned, biting her lip. Should she have got him some beer?
She stalked over to the refrigerator, flinging the door open, grinning in relief at a perfectly aligned row of Budweiser bottles. The labels all faced forward. She snorted at the telltale sign. At some point, he too must have worked in a shop.
The Aga loomed large, like an ancient cream beast. She'd never even seen one before. It didn't seem to have any settings - no Gas Marks, Centigrade, Fahrenheit. Lucy sighed, and went on filling the fridge. It wasn't worth it, she'd have to wait for him to sort it out later; she didn't want to risk accidentally blowing his chocolate box house to kingdom come in some hideous gas explosion. She resentfully slid the steak pie to the back of the shelf. So much for her masterplan of pretending she'd baked it herself.
There wasn't anything in the laundry basket, bar an odd sock. He must have been having her on. The washing up from that morning had been done and put away; Nirvana t-shirt hanging safely back in his wardrobe. The bed had even been made.
Lucy wandered over to the window, peering down at the little cottage garden. The grass needed cutting, but it looked pretty well
Josh wiped his mouth with his napkin. He nodded.
'Yep.'
Froggy's eyebrows reached for the ceiling.
'Fucking hell! ...That's quick, isn't it?'
Joshua pushed the plate away.
'You said yourself she's impatient,' he shrugged. 'Well, so am I. And now that I know the banker isn't on the scene anymore...'
He took a sip of coffee and sat back, weighing up Froggy's reaction. He started biting his fingers.
'You know what they say...' Josh said quietly, 'about how you just know?'
'Aye, I do that there laddie,' Froggy murmured, dark eyes glittering back. Josh watched the smile slowly parting his lips.
'I fucking knew it!' Froggy boomed, the grin creasing his face from his mouth to his temples. Josh flinched as Froggy launched across the table.
'I'm so pleased for ye Snowy! She's just... Ach, she's lovely!'
'All right, all right...' grumbled Josh, awkwardly patting Froggy's shoulders then pulling out of his arms. 'Thanks.' He sat back down embarrassedly, feeling his cheeks heating up. 'She hasn't even said yes yet.'
Froggy raised an eyebrow, cocking his head.
' Y've nay worries on that score. Are y'blind? The wee girl's crazy about ye!'
Lucy pushed her little trolley around an almost deserted Sainsbury's, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She'd never had a man give her money and tell he r to go shopping. It felt fairly ridiculous, and yet... sort of nice.
She paused in the chilled section, shivering into his sweatshirt, poring over the rows of cardboard boxes. She couldn't do pastry - who was she kidding. Her nose crinkled at chicken; not after the decapitated cockerel he'd had to deal with that morning. She grabbed a Taste The Difference steak pie.
Lucy shuffled up the path, keys dangling from her teeth by their leather fob, arms wrenching out of the sockets, praying the bags wouldn't split. Her blue eyes flickered briefly up to the thatched cottage. It looked even prettier in the daylight, even beneath a white sky. She smiled. Who would have imagined Josh lived in a house like this.
Once she'd finally got the door undone, she wrestled with the shopping bags, prizing off her trainers by the heels and kicking them off on the mat, closing the front door with her bum. She stomped to the kitchen, using her last shred of muscle power to wrench the bags up onto the counter. Josh was right. She probably didn't have the upper body strength for a wingsuit. Her hands were violently shaking, covered in blazing red criss-crosses from the handles of the bags.
She took out the bottle of Merlot, clunking it down on the side. Did Josh even like wine? She'd never seen him drink it. They didn't need a bottle opener - it was a screwtop. Lucy frowned, biting her lip. Should she have got him some beer?
She stalked over to the refrigerator, flinging the door open, grinning in relief at a perfectly aligned row of Budweiser bottles. The labels all faced forward. She snorted at the telltale sign. At some point, he too must have worked in a shop.
The Aga loomed large, like an ancient cream beast. She'd never even seen one before. It didn't seem to have any settings - no Gas Marks, Centigrade, Fahrenheit. Lucy sighed, and went on filling the fridge. It wasn't worth it, she'd have to wait for him to sort it out later; she didn't want to risk accidentally blowing his chocolate box house to kingdom come in some hideous gas explosion. She resentfully slid the steak pie to the back of the shelf. So much for her masterplan of pretending she'd baked it herself.
There wasn't anything in the laundry basket, bar an odd sock. He must have been having her on. The washing up from that morning had been done and put away; Nirvana t-shirt hanging safely back in his wardrobe. The bed had even been made.
Lucy wandered over to the window, peering down at the little cottage garden. The grass needed cutting, but it looked pretty well
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