Page 117 of Something Borrowed

“Sorry?” He peers in his mirror. “You.”

“Yes.” I wave. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

He looks warily around. “Where’s Joe?”

“Oh, probably moving hundreds of boxes at the moment,” I say, smiling at the thought of Joe’s face.

“He’s not going to join you, so you can get dressed again in my cab? It took ages to get the smell of aftershave out.”

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m a reformed man, Nigel.”

“What does that mean?” he asks cautiously. “Will you be taking any item of clothing off? I need to be prepared.”

“Not a stitch. I’m actually going home.”

“And where’s that?”

I start to give him my old address and pause. “Silly me. That’s not where I live.”

“You don’t know where you live? That doesn’t exactly surprise me.”

“Oh, you,” I say playfully. “Your sense of humourkillsme.” He rolls his eyes, and I give him my new address. “That’s my new home, where I live with my boyfriend and our dog.”

His eyes twinkle in the mirror. “Well, he’s a brave man.”

“That he is, Nigel. That he is.”

Half an hour later, I stand on the street and wave to Nigel as he drives away. Then I turn and look up at our new home. It sits in a patch of late afternoon sunshine, and the windows are glinting. A smile tugs at my mouth, and I feel a wave of warmth and happiness.

“Are you going to be standing there all day grinning like an idiot?” an acidic voice enquires.

Startled, I turn to look over my shoulder. Leo is standing on the pavement behind me, clutching a box. His usually pristine appearance is rumpled, and he has a streak of dust across his face.

“Did you know you have a little something on your…?” I falter at his glare. “Oh, silly me. What was I thinking? You look lovely as usual, Leo.”

“I look sweaty. Why did you pick the hottest day of the year to move house?”

“Serendipity,” I offer. “My bride was happy, anyway.”

“Thank you for that information, Count Dracula.” He huffs. “Do something useful and order some pizza. Stan’s brother is getting hangry.”

“He’s not the only one,” I mutter. “Where’s my beloved?”

“Directing operations in your lounge.”

“He’s so sexily bossy, don’t you think?”

“I’m finding it more just bossy, but you keep going, Casanova.”

We grin at each other, and then he proceeds up the small tiled path to the house and vanishes into the darkness of the hall.

“I think that’s done. The van is empty now and we can do the last lot tomorrow.”

I turn around to find Stan’s dad grinning at me.

“Really? I missed it all. HowsadI am,” I say, making an expression that I hope looks like sadness. In reality, I’m thrilled about my time management skills.

“Oh really?” He arches his eyebrow, a wry expression on his face that makes him look so much like Stan that I hug him.

---