quiet. Silhouetted against the big house, taller but less of the long streak of piss he used to be, Fraser looked both extremely familiar and, now, extremely foreign to me.
âNo doubt.â Scintillating.
âCâmon, darling!â hollered Alex, sounding a bit worried. I smiled weakly at Fraser and followed him down the path. After being hustled out of the building, he wasnât sure whether or not heâd done anything wrong â and neither was I. After all, who was I cross at? Him? His friends? My parents, for not being better off? My parentsâ distant ancestors, for not being friends with the king? I could see his fuddled brain trying to work it out. Fortunately, he plumped for the former, to be on the safe side.
âAre you OK?â
I had to work out my strategy quickly. What I wanted to say was:
âNo, I hate your friends because theyâre all horrible to me. Well, theyâre not even horrible, they just ignore me because I didnât go to the right school and have a crap name, so actually Iâm jealous more than actual dislike, but I donât like it, waaaaaaah.â
Being an independent nineties girl with her own opinions, though, what I actually said was:
âYes, gorgeous, I just couldnât wait to get you home â I had to get you out of there somehow.â And I added a girlish giggle for effect.
As the blazing golden lights of the illuminated mansion dimmed behind the trees and I looked at my big, strong, placated, slightly wobbly man, I felt better again.
We spent a wonderful Sunday morning in bed the next day, ânursingâ his hangover. Then â after he sawI wasnât too interested in dissecting what a fantastic night it had been, âparticularly the bit when Barfield stuck the napkin up his arse, ha ha ha!â â he went out to see his mates.
I lolled around with the papers all day.
Back late, he barged in loudly, waking Linda, probably, and certainly me. After bouncing around the kitchen looking for something to eat (I never seemed to have any food in the house after my first week of being a show-off chef, so God knows what he found, although Linda was looking, if anything, even more fucked off these days, so it might have been that. Youâd think sheâd like having a man around the house â God knows, I did), he came in, sat on the end of the bed, kissed me squarely on the nose and announced, âHey, guess what! Iâve found a flat! Or rather, Iâve found my old flat â Charlieâs forgiven me and Iâm moving back in with him!â
I sat up. I hadnât rationally thought about it, but now heâd told me, I realized that I had planned our future out, after all, in my head. We would go find a room together somewhere nice, and eventually get our own place, once he had this music company job. Or we would both stay where we were â Linda wouldnât mind. Perhaps sheâd even move out â oh no, she couldnât, it was her flat. Either way, I hadnât seen us being apart so soon, nor the decision so gleefully made on his part. Despite it being only two weeks, waking up next to him every day already felt a necessity of my life, something I didnât want to do without.
âErmm, great!â I said casually. âSo, is Charlie stillliving in â¦?â As if Charlie and I had had tons of in-depth chats about our personal lives.
âFulham, yeah. Itâs a great flat.â
âBut itâs bloody miles away! And itâs in West London ⦠you hate West London!â
âWell, I canât stay here pestering you for ever, can I?â
Actually, thatâs exactly what Iâd been planning on.
I pouted prettily, in what I hoped was an appealing manner. âI wouldnât mind.â
He looked at me and ruffled my hair again. But not as enthusiastically as before.
âItâll be fine. Youâre still my favourite pumpkin, arenât
âNo doubt.â Scintillating.
âCâmon, darling!â hollered Alex, sounding a bit worried. I smiled weakly at Fraser and followed him down the path. After being hustled out of the building, he wasnât sure whether or not heâd done anything wrong â and neither was I. After all, who was I cross at? Him? His friends? My parents, for not being better off? My parentsâ distant ancestors, for not being friends with the king? I could see his fuddled brain trying to work it out. Fortunately, he plumped for the former, to be on the safe side.
âAre you OK?â
I had to work out my strategy quickly. What I wanted to say was:
âNo, I hate your friends because theyâre all horrible to me. Well, theyâre not even horrible, they just ignore me because I didnât go to the right school and have a crap name, so actually Iâm jealous more than actual dislike, but I donât like it, waaaaaaah.â
Being an independent nineties girl with her own opinions, though, what I actually said was:
âYes, gorgeous, I just couldnât wait to get you home â I had to get you out of there somehow.â And I added a girlish giggle for effect.
As the blazing golden lights of the illuminated mansion dimmed behind the trees and I looked at my big, strong, placated, slightly wobbly man, I felt better again.
We spent a wonderful Sunday morning in bed the next day, ânursingâ his hangover. Then â after he sawI wasnât too interested in dissecting what a fantastic night it had been, âparticularly the bit when Barfield stuck the napkin up his arse, ha ha ha!â â he went out to see his mates.
I lolled around with the papers all day.
Back late, he barged in loudly, waking Linda, probably, and certainly me. After bouncing around the kitchen looking for something to eat (I never seemed to have any food in the house after my first week of being a show-off chef, so God knows what he found, although Linda was looking, if anything, even more fucked off these days, so it might have been that. Youâd think sheâd like having a man around the house â God knows, I did), he came in, sat on the end of the bed, kissed me squarely on the nose and announced, âHey, guess what! Iâve found a flat! Or rather, Iâve found my old flat â Charlieâs forgiven me and Iâm moving back in with him!â
I sat up. I hadnât rationally thought about it, but now heâd told me, I realized that I had planned our future out, after all, in my head. We would go find a room together somewhere nice, and eventually get our own place, once he had this music company job. Or we would both stay where we were â Linda wouldnât mind. Perhaps sheâd even move out â oh no, she couldnât, it was her flat. Either way, I hadnât seen us being apart so soon, nor the decision so gleefully made on his part. Despite it being only two weeks, waking up next to him every day already felt a necessity of my life, something I didnât want to do without.
âErmm, great!â I said casually. âSo, is Charlie stillliving in â¦?â As if Charlie and I had had tons of in-depth chats about our personal lives.
âFulham, yeah. Itâs a great flat.â
âBut itâs bloody miles away! And itâs in West London ⦠you hate West London!â
âWell, I canât stay here pestering you for ever, can I?â
Actually, thatâs exactly what Iâd been planning on.
I pouted prettily, in what I hoped was an appealing manner. âI wouldnât mind.â
He looked at me and ruffled my hair again. But not as enthusiastically as before.
âItâll be fine. Youâre still my favourite pumpkin, arenât
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