Page 43 of The Wedding Game

‘I know,’ she says. ‘Perhaps, as it’s going to be Valentine’s weekend, we can pretend we’re a couple and it’s our anniversary – maybe the spa will offer us a free bottle of fizz.’

‘Pah! Try it. See what happens.’

‘I will. I’ll report back. What are you up to today, if sexy farmer is out sexy farming?’

‘No idea,’ I reply. ‘It’s halfway through the day already, so he’ll be home for lunch shortly. Josh usually makes us both a sandwich. I feel like I should be doing some household chores or something. I make the bed each day after I get out of it, and the kitchen gets a once-over after I’ve cooked dinner, but that’s only because I’ve obliterated it, using every single pan there is. Do you think I should be doing more? Should I change the sheets, do you think, or give the bathroom a proper clean? Or should I be the one making him lunch? What do you think?’

‘You really do sound like you live there now,’ Scarlet says unhelpfully. ‘I thought you were working on your portfolio.’

‘I’ve done that. And I’ve applied for some jobs. I’m not sure what else to do now. I feel like I need to pay my way, and this is the only way I can.’

‘Does he have a cleaner? How did he do it all before you came along?’

‘No idea. The house was spotlessly clean when I arrived, though.’

‘Maybe his mum does it,’ she laughs.

‘Don’t!’ I say and laugh in return.

‘MaybeTamaradoes it!’ She splutters even harder with laughter.

‘Stop!’ I tell her, but I can’t help laughing.

‘Do you think you’ll just abandon me and stay there for ever?’ she asks and the mood changes.

‘No, of course not,’ I reply. ‘I could easily stay here, though. This life, it’s easy. Too easy. But I do need to get a job, and I can’t live here rent-free much longer.’

‘Why not? You live rent-free with me every now and again,’ Scarlet digs, but I can hear the smile in her voice.

‘I know. But I always catch up in the end,’ I say in a sing-song voice.

‘True,’ she confirms.

‘Anyway, someone sent me areallygood job listing and I’ve applied.’

‘Ooh, have you? What’s the job?’ Scarlet asks and I break into a few short, sharp facts about meeting Chris at the wedding and how he sent me the listing. I don’t tell herexactlyhow well Chris and I got on the night we met, that had things been different – had I said yes to his suggestion to go with him to New York – I might be there right now, living a dream life in New York with Chris, instead of living this dream life in the countryside with Josh.

So she’s armed with some of the facts, but not all of them, because I don’t want her to read too much into the fact that I met Chris before I met Josh and that he asked me to get on a plane with him.

‘What are you doing tonight?’ I ask, changing tack.

‘I’m off to a gallery opening with a friend. Some singer fancies himself as a photographer, so I’m going to go and issue praise wildly while knowing in advance the photos are going to be all really arty and really shit. What about you?’

‘Being jealous of your night out,’ I say.

‘You could come along?’ she suggests. ‘How long is it from Josh’s farm to London?’

‘Bloody for ever. I would, but I can’t. We’re going over to Tamara’s for dinner tonight.’

‘What’s she cooking?’ Scarlet probes.

‘Don’t know.’

‘Can you ask her what kind of grout cleaner she uses in Josh’s bathroom, please? I’m having a nightmare getting ours to—’

‘Oh, piss off,’ I tell her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

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