do. ‘She’s weirdly fixated on the idea of Jess getting married and buying a nice house and having two-point-four children and a dog. Probably because she did the opposite.’
When I split up with Neil Mum had been absolutely horrified that I’d ‘let him slip through my fingers’. I never knew my dad – she’s never talked about him, and there’s just a blank space on my birth certificate where his name should be – and she’s absolutely determined that my life will be far more conventional than hers. It’s weird.
‘What’s she saying about you moving to London?’ Gen says.
‘She’s hoping I might meet a nice man and settle down.’
‘Ironic,’ Gen snorts, ‘that your mother never did it but she wants it for you.’
‘It’s called transference,’ Sophie says, thoughtfully. ‘Or something like that. It’s about wanting to live her life through yours, vicariously.’
‘It’s called being a total nightmare,’ I say, scooping off some of the whipped cream on my drink with a spoon, and licking it.
‘Oh she’s not that bad,’ says Gen, who has a soft spot for my mother because she’s a fellow thespian. My mother’s an actress too, but she’s never made it to London. Instead she travels a bit, and she tries various schemes to keep money coming in, in between jobs working as a voice-over artist or being an extra on film sets. She’s never really been the maternal type. It’s lucky I’ve got my Nanna Beth to make up for it.
‘No,’ I concede. ‘I think it’ll be a lot easier to have a relationship with her when I’m ninety miles away in London than when she’s breathing down my neck the whole time wanting to know what I’m doing with my life.’
The strange thing about Mum is that despite being unconventional herself, she’s completely hooked on the idea of me doing a Soph and getting married, popping out a couple of grandchildren, and finding a nice house in the suburbs. It’s weird. It also means she was Not Happy when Neil and I split up, and she thinks my plans for a new life in London are impractical and faintly ridiculous. I quote. Not that I’m still chuntering to myself over her saying it, of course.
‘She’ll be wanting regular relationship updates,’ Gen says.
‘There won’t be any,’ Sophie points out, shooting a quick look at Gen, ‘because Becky has decreed that there’s to be no relationships in the house.’
‘She can’t do that.’
‘She can do whatever she bloody well wants if she’s renting Jess a room in Notting Hill for £400 a month. I’d take a vow of chastity for that.’ Gen takes a sip of her drink.
‘Yeah but even so—’ I watch Sophie giving Gen a fleeting look.
Sophie and Gen have met Becky a few times. They get on okay, in that way that friends do when you try and combine one part of your life with another part. I’m hoping that now we’re all going to be in the same place they’ll get to know each other a bit more, and even get on a bit.
‘She isn’t banning me from having sex with anyone,’ I say. ‘Just that there’s to be no inter-house relationship stuff.’
‘Just as well. You’ve got the whole of London at your disposal. You downloaded Tinder yet?’ Gen asks. She curls one of her ginger ringlets around her finger, then lets it go so it springs back into place. Gen’s never had a bad hair day in her life.
‘Ugh, no.’ I shudder. ‘The thing is I’m not really a Tinder sort of person.’
‘Mmm.’ Sophie nods. I wonder what she means by that.
I sigh. ‘Anyway the thing is there’s a bit of a problem with Becky’s whole plan. I mean, there’s being practical, and then there’s – well, do you believe in fate?’
Gen cups her chin in both hands and leans forward. ‘Tell me more.’
‘I totally do,’ says Sophie. ‘I mean look at me and Rich.’
I think about the two of them and catch a glimpse of Gen, who doesn’t say a word but there’s a split second when her nostrils flare, which is always a tell with her, and I know she’s thinking Sophie and Rich, the most practical couple in the world?
‘Come on,’ Gen urges. ‘Spill.’ She looks at Sophie and they look back at me.
‘It’s not – I mean it couldn’t go anywhere. I’m just being silly,’ I begin. ‘It’s, um, Alex.’
‘Ahhh,’ they say, and exchange another glance.
‘What d’you mean, ahh?’ I cup my hot chocolate in both hands, holding it