Page 33 of Baking Battles

“Mummy!!!!!” Emi shrieks, throwing herself into Sara’s outstretched arms. Sara, who looks as put together as she usually does, just that her hair is a little messy and her face a picture of confusion and maybe a little disappointment. Like she is about to throw herself into full-on rage. Or at least give Mattias a lecture, throwing her weight around like she usually does, but she has spotted Christopher, and that seems to have stunned her into silence.

“Oh…” she says, pinning her gaze on Mattias.

“You are supposed to be away for the weekend.” Mattias says, trying to sound calm and in control.

“You are supposed to be caring for our child?” Sara retaliates, giving Christopher her most charming smile. It’s fake. Fake fake fake, but Sara has obviously recognised who the half-dressed guy in the hallway is, reaching her hand out to shake his, introducing herself with her full name as Mattias tries to control the unease pooling in his stomach.

“Clistopler!!” Emi shouts, and is suddenly wide awake as she tries to wriggle herself out of Sara’s grasp, reaching for Christopher to take her. Which he does. Because, right now, Christopher is Mattias’s favourite person in the whole wide world as he smiles all apologetic and politely at Sara.

“Emi, do you want to come with Uncle Christopher for a second, and we will find your pyjamas in your room? Can you show me?”

He gives Mattias a little nod as he disappears back into the living room, and Mattias can hear the soft laughter and the voices traveling through the air as he reluctantly looks up at Sara.

“Why is she not in bed?” Sara demands, looking like she is either wanting to cry, or start screaming at him.

“We were working late.” Mattias says. He has no excuse. No willpower to fight.

“Her clothes are covered in chocolate?” She is picking for a fight here and Mattias can feel his shoulders tense up.

“And why is he here? What is going on, Matt?”

“You are supposed to be on a dirty weekend away?” Mattias says calmly. He hopes. He hopes he is calm. He needs to stay calm.

“Dirty weekend indeed, fucking Thomas-the-rat. His bloody wife phoned in the middle of dinner and demanded to know how his conference was going. I might have lost my rag and screamed down the place. Remind me I can never set foot in thePeaceful Calm Country House Hotel and Spaever again.”

“Don’t go to the Peaceful Calm Country House Hotel and Spa ever again.” Mattias cackles. He’s being a shit and will probably regret mouthing off at her, but it’s a little bit funny. Just a bit.

“Wanker.” Sara mutters.

“Forget him, he’s not worth it.” Mattias tries to be calm.

“So, Christopher Pedersen?” She almost smiles. He can read her like a book. Like she wants the gossip. Anything she can tell her friends and give herself another fifteen seconds of attention and pseudo-fame.

“Why are you here, Sara? It’s almost eleven at night?” She needs to go. He needs Emi back in bed and Christopher in his arms. And kisses. Fuck, he still needs to convince Christopher to kiss him again.

“I’m sad and upset and pissed off, Matt, and I need my baby with me to make me feel better. And it’s my weekend, so I came to get her. I texted you like three times on the way.”

“You can’t just take her back, she’s spending this weekend with me. We agreed on that.”

“She’s my kid and it’s my weekend.” Sara snarls, and then her face goes white, as she just stares at Mattias. Like he is a ghost. And not in a good way.

“Fuck me.” She says.

“No thanks?” Mattias is lost. She’s clearly lost it.

“No no no, fuck. Mattias you fucking twat of an arsehole. Fuck. How was I so fucking blind?” She’s almost shouting now, pulling at her hair with her hands and walking around in a circle, her high heels clapping alarmingly against the wooden hallway floor.

“Do you need to sit down?” Mattias tries. I mean she is clearly losing the plot.

“Oh, fuck off, Matt. You let me find out like this? You couldn't just have told me?” Her voice is hissing now, the sound of crashing, and of Emi and Christopher clearly trashing Emi’s bedroom, drifting through the apartment.

“Told you what, Sara? You asked me to have Emi this weekend, and I agreed. I have been working my arse off and I am doing the best I can.” Mattias is hissing too. They are right back to square one, arguing over shit he doesn’t understand.

“That you are fucking gay, Matt? Do you think I’m stupid? You are fucking him? That’s who you wanted to sleep with? And did you? After you let me walk around for years thinking that it was me. That it was all my fault. That I was so freaking unattractive and horrible that my own husband couldn't bear to be near me. That you shook in disgust if I even tried to touch you? You made me hate myself, because I couldn't make you want me.” She’s crying now, her eyes red and her makeup trailing down her cheeks, little blackened rivers of tears that make Mattias think that maybe she is right. Maybe it has been all his fault.

“I’m not sure I am gay, Sara. I don’t know what I am, but I love you, I always have and always will, because we are Emi’s parents, and that’s what we do.”

“Don’t lie.” Sara sniffs. “So, did you leave me for him?” She’s shouting again. Slightly hysterical.

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