jibes. I also emailed him my Curtis the caterpillar story and, on Thursday, he appeared upstairs and suggested lunch in the square.
‘I’ve brought my lunch.’
‘I know, I know,’ he said, surrendering his hands in the air. ‘I wasn’t for a second suggesting you try a different type of sandwich. But bring it with you. I want to chat about the Christmas party.’
Once on the bench outside, he revealed this had been a cover story. ‘I do want to chat about the Christmas party, but I also wanted to check that you’re OK.’
I smiled up at him. He was sitting on the wooden arm, his boots on the seat. ‘Kind of. The house has been pretty weird this week. I get home and wait for the feeling of him around my ankles, but Ruby and Mia have been amazing.’
The previous night, they’d lined up in the kitchen, clearly holding something behind them.
‘Why are you guys being so weird? What’s going on?’ I’d asked.
Mia had revealed a framed picture of Marmalade and me in the garden. Ruby had taken it from her bedroom window the previous summer; I was lying on my front reading, he was lying across a rectangle of sunshine on my back. It made me cry again, obviously, but it also made me more grateful for my half-sisters than I could remember. We’d got through two bottles of wine afterwards and I’d teased Ruby about Zach.
‘How were the headshots, Rubes?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I tried. I gave him my best sex face but it didn’t work so I guess that’s that.’
Mia forced her to demonstrate her best sex face and Ruby had lowered her eyelids like a drunk and pouted her lips. We laughed so hard I’d almost choked.
‘I think you’re off the hook with Ruby,’ I told Zach, as he ripped through his baguette.
He grinned, his cheeks stuffed with sandwich. ‘Ah, she’s great. But she’s your sister. I couldn’t. How’s your fascist boyfriend, anyway?’
‘All right. Been away this week but taking me out for my birthday tomorrow.’
Zach’s eyes widened. ‘Your birthday! You’ve kept that very quiet. What you doing?’
‘Nothing, I hate it.’
He shook his head. ‘You can’t hate your own birthday. Even for you, that’s tragic.’
‘Thanks. And I know. But I do. So I’m having supper with Rory and that’s it.’
‘He’d better take you somewhere decent. I don’t want to hear next week that you spent your birthday eating peri peri chicken in Nando’s.’
‘I don’t think Rory knows what Nando’s is,’ I said, before catching Zach’s eye and we both snorted with laughter. There was no way Rory would risk splashing hot sauce on any of his shirts.
‘Hey, so what’s happening with the Christmas party?’ I asked, once we’d regained control of ourselves.
Zach brushed crumbs off his jeans. ‘What do you think about carol singing?’
‘Us?’
‘No, Jesus, no! Can you sing? No, course you can’t. I’ve heard you in the stockroom.’
‘Watch it, I’m still sensitive.’
‘You’re all right. And I’ve been looking into it and the Chelsea Pensioners have a choir, so I thought we could try and get them in? A singalong, mulled wine and Norris in his Father Christmas costume. It’s my last week in the shop so I want to make sure it’s a proper knees-up.’
‘Last week?’
‘Yeah. I go to South America that weekend.’
‘Oh, course.’ I looked down at my sandwich and was almost overwhelmed by a wave of self-pity. My life felt small. I made the same sandwich every morning and double-wrapped it in clingfilm. That was pretty much the only element of risk I faced each day – arriving at work and checking the tomato pips hadn’t leaked into my rucksack.
‘Finally you’ll be rid of me,’ said Zach, gently punching my shoulder with his fist.
‘About time,’ I said, trying to grin up at him. ‘Has Norris said yes to the carol singing?’
‘No, but he will.’
The Chelsea Pensioners were army veterans who lived in a nearby retirement home and still pottered up and down the King’s Road in red uniforms and black hats. I had no idea if their singing was any good but they were a local institution.
‘How does the shop make any cash? Won’t we need to pay them?’
‘It’s charitable,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘We pass a bucket around for the singers and stay open late for Christmas shopping. Offer free wrapping or something.’
‘We already do free wrapping.’
‘All right, Little Miss Pedantic, I’ll think of something else. But do you think it’s a good idea?’