Page 49 of Seven Rules for a Perfect Marriage

‘Preheat the oven. To 180, please.’

I put the oven on, and she looks impressed. ‘Well done.’

‘It’s really not complicated.’

‘Wouldn’t have stopped most men from asking how to do it.’

I laugh. ‘Who does the cooking in your house?’

She gives me a look.

‘Another stupid question.’ I hold my hands up.

She passes me a bowl, some icing sugar, cream cheese and a wooden spoon. ‘You can start on the icing. Beat half of that into that.’

I do as I’m told, surprised to find myself really thinking about it, trying to get the measurement right, not make a mess. There’s something rather meditative about it, watching the icing thicken. Ironically, given my feelings towards the book right now, I find myself remembering why so-called ‘selfish time’ is a very good rule. I feel my rage dulling to a simmer.

‘So what’s actually going on?’

‘What makes you think there’s something going on?’

‘Oh please. That whole thing at the massage session?’ She’s looking at her work, not at me, but somehow it still feels like she’s gauging my reaction.

‘Oh. That. Nothing really, just that whole pressure point thing, Jessica felt like she’d had a big emotional release. Processed a lot of hard stuff.’

‘What doesshehave to process?’ Verity says. She stares me down, her eyes straight into mine. I expect her to backtrack when she realises what she’s said, to apologise, even. But she doesn’t. She keeps looking me straight in the eye. ‘Aren’t you two supposed to be the perfect couple?’

I laugh, and she reads this as a response. ‘No?’

‘I don’t think she’d appreciate me talking about it.’

‘Course not,’ Verity says, sifting flour into the bowl. She’s madly neat, not getting a speck on the counter. ‘Though, I would say—’ She stops.

‘Would say what?’ I want to know.

She looks like she’s searching for the words. ‘For ages I wasn’t saying anything about my life or my stuff. Because I wanted to protect Noah, I didn’t want to say anything that made him sound bad. But that meant I wasn’t talking about my stuff either.’

I nod. ‘Yeah. I get that. I think it’s pretty normal to want the world to think well of the person you love.’

‘I know it’s different for you two,’ she says. She puts her finger in the icing I’ve made and licks it. ‘Sorry!’ she laughs. ‘Just cost you your five-star food hygiene rating. That’s good!’

‘I promise I won’t tell anyone.’ I smile, pathetically buoyed by the feedback.

‘Thanks.’ She grins back.

‘Is this really what you wanted to do? With your free time? Baking?’

‘Sure. Why not?’

‘Just seems a lot like the kind of thing you’d be doing at home. Something which benefits other people.’

‘True.’ She stirs for a moment. ‘I think it would have taken more time than we were given to work out what I actually want to do. For myself.’

‘That makes sense. I can understand wishing you could put yourself first a bit more.’

‘Really?’ She seems surprised.

‘I shouldn’t really go into it,’ I say, knocking the toe of my trainers against the kickboards of the kitchen island like a moody teenager.

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