Page 26 of Textbook Romance

Ben takes off his scarf and sits down. ‘I love your mum. Can I marry your mum?’

Frank furrows his brow. ‘But you’re gay.’ Frank is like this, very black and white, not a lot of lived experience. I think this is why Ben and I took him under our wing. Ben’s always loved that he has the same old man name as his dad. A boy like that needs saving from his naivety.

Ben laughs. ‘I’m still gay, my friend. I was just being facetious, but I have great admiration for the woman in any case. Does she really deep fry them, just for us?’ he asks. ‘Does she do television? I think the public would love her.’

Frank shakes her head. ‘I think she air fries them now. And no, please do not put her on television. She’d be a liability, she has no method.’

‘The best sort of cook then,’ Ben replies. ‘So how are we? How was the first day of school?’ he asks me, putting a hand to my shoulder and shaking it around. ‘Were the kids nice to you?’ Ben is also house mother – he likes to check in on us and make sure we’re well, and this genuine concern for my wellbeing is probably the reason why we’re still in each other’s lives. He sits down as Frank gets another mug out for him to make a second cup of tea.

‘His colleagues took him for a Nando’s after work,’ Frank adds.

I take one of his mother’s spring rolls. They are undeniably crisp; she could win awards for these. I go over to the counter with half of my Nando’s chicken as an offering to this little feast.

‘Were they lady colleagues?’ Ben asks, knowing there was a time many moons ago when I slept with two people we worked with at Zara and had to move branches. I nod. Frank looks supremely confused that I seem to have moved so quickly on my first day. ‘Already? That will get you a reputation.’ Despite the lecture, he puts his hands under his chin to take in the gossip.

‘One colleague. Her name was Zoe, she works at the school.’ I smile a little too widely to say her name, playing back all our little conversations today, remembering the way her eyes changed shape as she laughed.

Ben rewinds his mind. ‘Hold up. Zoe, the one from the wedding with the cheating husband. No actual way!’

That’s the thing about Ben – he remembers everything. It’s why he’s on bin duty in this house. Frank places a cup of tea in front of him and offers him more of his mother’s food.

I nod. ‘The very one.’

I told Frank and Ben this story. It must have been when I came back from the wedding. I was slightly drunk, and I think they were knee deep in a binge watch of Bridgerton. They both eat a bit more slowly as they take in the next instalment of drama. ‘Did she dump the husband? What happened? I hate the man and I don’t even know him. Does he have a name?’

‘Brian. And no. I think he left her so she’s just in the aftermath. Trying to work out what to do next.’

‘And are you what she’s going to do next?’ Frank asks innocently.

My jaw slackens. Ben chokes on some noodles, laughing. ‘Francis! You made a joke! But yeah…’ he says, turning to me. ‘Are you?’

‘I don’t know. I think after tonight, there’s something… Possibly a spark, but I can’t quite read it.’ As I say the words out loud, I realise there’s some feeling for her emerging, possibly a desire to act on it – but is that wise?

Ben picks up his phone. ‘Shit name, Brian,’ Ben says. ‘Can we stalk him on social media and make his life hell? I can send him dozens of private messages pretending to be from OnlyFans and jeopardise his new relationship.’ I like Ben’s willingness to invest such hatred in someone he’s never met.

‘Or not.’

He spies me glancing down at my phone. ‘What are you waiting for?’

‘What do you mean?’ I reply, innocently.

‘I know that look when you’re waiting for a text, to see if someone’s going to reply.’

‘I am just conscious of the time. I need my beauty sleep. My hours are different these days.’

Ben narrows his eyes at me. ‘What’s her last name? This Zoe?’

‘Zoe Swift,’ I reply, a little too quickly.

He moves his fingers with mercurial speed over his keypad. ‘Found her…’

‘You have?’ Even though we’ve only just met, even I haven’t done the social media stalk yet. Frank and I peer over Ben’s shoulders. The Facebook profile is very private which is a given when you’re a teacher, but I like the profile picture, some golden hour shot that hits her face with all the right light. We look through the limited photos she has chosen to share plus a few posts that pop up telling me she’s donated money to a dog’s home and someone who ran a 5K in aid of a local hospice. I knew she was kind to her very core.

‘She’s very attractive,’ Frank says plainly.

‘Right?’ I say, relieved that it’s not just me.

‘No, Frank has a point. I’m getting a Rachel McAdams vibe. I like the hair,’ Ben says.

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