Page 37 of Someone Like You

‘Because I invited him,’ I tell her.

Her jaw and eyebrows shoot in opposite directions, but I ignore her – she really is being overly dramatic – and buzz him in. Turning back to Freya, I say, ‘You texted to say it was an emergency, Frey. OfcourseI called in the cavalry.’

She’s too stunned to respond, and thirty seconds later, there’s a knock at the door. I swing it open.

‘I didn’t know which kind of emergency, so I brought wine, crisps, and Penguins,’ he says, holding up a canvas shopping bag stamped with the logo of one of our clients. ‘Hiya,’ he says, stooping to kiss my cheek.

‘Hi, Raff.’ I close the door and look on as he greets Freya with a one-armed bear hug.

‘Poor you. I’m sorry you had a rubbish day,’ he says, his chin resting on her head. ‘Now, before you tell me everything, sweet, salty, or boozy?’

Freya’s agitated mood melts away before my eyes as she stepsback and peers up at Raff. ‘Boozy and salty,’ she replies, completely disarmed.

‘Coming right up.’

And that there is one of the many reasons Raff will make someone a terrific boyfriend someday – or even husband.

He drops the bag of chips – sorry,crisps– on the coffee table, then goes into the kitchen to pour the wine.

Freya beelines to me. ‘We can’t tell him the real reason I’m upset,’ she whispers.

‘Yeah, no shit.’

Her lips flatten into a taut line. ‘Gaby!’ she whispers harshly.

‘Sorry. Just… come up with something.’

‘Me?’

‘Yeah, it’s your crisis.’

‘Here we are,’ says Raff, holding three glasses easily in his huge hands.

Freya takes one and I take another. ‘So, what are we drinking to?’ he asks, looking at Freya. ‘Oh, fuck, you and Freddie didn’t break up, did you?’

‘No!’ she cries, indignant.

‘It’s not out of the realm of possibility, Frey. That’s the first thing I thought when I got your message.’

She looks at me, horrified. ‘Why would you say that? Freddie and I are doing fabulously.’

My eyes dart towards Raff and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing I am. We like Freddie – he’s super sweet to Freya, which is the most important thing – but he’s not the most interesting guy, especially when he’s being overly didactic and goes off on a tangent. There’s only so much you can hear about exotic fish without wishing Freddie had a mute button.

‘We’re glad,’ Raff says with a convincing smile.

‘So glad,’ I echo. ‘Let’s sit, shall we.’

Raff and Freya sit on the sofa, and I flop into my teal Lounge Pug. The others make fun of my beanbag armchair, but they’re just jealous. It’s like if a chair was a hug.

‘Right, now, tell me what’s going on,’ Raff says to Freya.

She flicks a glance in my direction then launches into a heavily redacted version of what happened at work, telling Raff she was left out of a discussion she thought she should have been part of.

‘Oh, poor you,’ he says, leaning across to pat her on the knee.

‘Raff, before you got here, I was working the tough-love angle. You know, Freya’s overreacting, she needs to chill… So, yeah…’

‘Oh, I’ve cocked things up then, haven’t I?’ He looks between us. ‘Should I go out and come back in again?’

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