Page 144 of You Float My Boat

I grunted something indecipherable, but thankfully it did the job and she walked out with an exasperated shake of her head. I knew one thing for sure, and it was that under no circumstances was I going for lunch with Charlie’s parents.

Unfortunately, my mum didn’t manage to get fully out of the room.

‘Knock, knock,’ came a familiar voice right before Stella’s head appeared around the door, bringing my mum back in with her. Buddy’s tail thumped hard, but he clearly decided he’d seen Stella enough this holiday that she didn’t require a more excitable greeting. ‘Bloody hell, it’s like a furnace in here.’

I hid the smirk as my mum’s lips pursed. ‘Quite.’

Stella put down a parcel she’d carried in and whipped off her jumper. ‘Ooh, great, are we watchingThe Holiday?’

I nodded.

‘Can we go back to the beginning? Or at least to when Cameron punches Ed Burns, that’s my favourite bit.’

She caught the remote I tossed to her. Yeah, I could watch him being punched.

‘Stella, you’re coming to London on Saturday, aren’t you?’ began my mother, totally ignoring the fact that Stella was also now under the duvet with me, so we could both watch the only acceptable year-round Christmas film.

‘Dunno, why? What’s Saturday?’ she replied, nottaking her eyes off the screen as she found the spot she was looking for. It was a wonder my mum hadn’t stood in front of it.

‘The Boat Race,’ she tutted, like there couldn’t be anything else happening on Saturday. Not sure everyone attending the Grand National would be of the same opinion, but Jane Brooks didn’t agree with horse racing. ‘It’s Hugo’s last one.’

Stella’s eyes flicked to mine, and then to my mum, ‘Oh … um. Maybe. Not sure. We might have to be back in Oxford.’

That did it, the annoyance radiating from my mother could no longer be contained.

‘You don’t have to be back in Oxford, the entire university will be in London,’ she snapped, pinning us both with one of those steely glares only mothers could perfect, while she tried to figure out what was going on.

She stood there a good thirty seconds, but it wasn’t the first time my mother had attempted to break us with her narrowed glower, she’d been working on it since we were teenagers. We, however, had become experts in standing our ground, therefore would be saying nothing.

I didn’t inherit my stubbornness from my dad’s side of the family, that’s for sure.

‘What’s that?’ I nodded to the large box in Stella’s hand, hoping it might distract my mum enough that she’d get bored and leave us alone.

‘Oh, nothing exciting,’ she replied as she picked up her phone and began tapping away on the screen.

‘Honestly, you girls …’ Mum harrumphed, but didn’t add anything else before she walked out none the wiser.

Stella put the box on my knee. ‘It’s for you, it was at the door. Thought you wouldn’t want Janey getting her nose in before you saw it.’

I snorted out a laugh. ‘Thanks.’

‘Take it you’ve still not told her about Chuckles?’

‘Nope.’ I shook my head. ‘If I tell her, it makes the whole thing real, and I don’t want it to be real if it’s over. Because she’ll make it a hundred times worse, and I just want to be left alone to be miserable for a little bit. Though frankly I’m surprised my big-mouth brother hasn’t told her, since he’s the favourite child.’

‘You’re so dramatic, Vi,’ she replied. ‘Plus, you don’t know he hasn’t.’

‘He definitely hasn’t.’ I knew that as well as I knew my own name, which was one saving grace. If my mum knew, there’s no way she’d keep it to herself, and I just couldn’t handle her level of questioning when I didn’t have the answers to give her.

‘Anyway, can you open that box please. It smells like sugar.’ Stella looked up from her phone and the essay she seemed to be typing. Even with my mum’s quick clean-up it was still very obvious I’d spent a lot of time with chocolate this week. ‘Not sure you need any more though.’

Ripping open the protective packaging, I pulled out a shoebox-sized parcel wrapped up with a thick violet ribbon, tied in a bow at the top. Tucked underneath were two notes. Or rather a Post-it and an envelope. My heart kicked up a beat as I spotted the envelope with the familiar black handwriting, but instead I picked up the Post-it with the virtually unintelligible scrawl it had taken me years of practice to decipher.

Hi Weirdo,

Not that you want it, but you have my approval to date Charlie. In fact, you couldn’t find anyone better. Please get back together, otherwise I won’t be able to fit into my clothes much longer.

Love, your favourite brother x

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