Page 17 of Fast Track to Forever
My dad leans forward. “But for your sake we'll go there. We do good business together, me and Fritz.”
I exhale. “Ok, I'll tell Will you're keen. Now if you excuse me, I have some things to take care of.”
I glance at my phone. No messages from Will. No less than twelve messages from Auntie Gem, begging me to come back straight after Christmas. I compose a message about me and Will, but leave it in drafts. It's not something to say in a text. I'll save it for our next call.
In my room, I pick up the Christmas gift I've been working on for the last couple of days. The leather shines in the sunlight. I hope he'll love it. The idea that he could wear something I've made fills me with joy. A part of me, close to him forever. God, I'm falling hard. I pick up my phone again and type a message to Will.
Kat: All clear on this end. Wbu?
I open Instagram and check out his profile, like I've taken to doing several times a day. A reply pops up.
Will: Yep, sorted. We can do it tonight or tomorrow, my folks are easy.
I drop the phone on my toes and squeal. He replied so fast.
Kat: Tonight it is then, don't want to give mine the chance to change their minds ??
Will: It will be fine.
Will: I miss you.
I nearly drop my phone again. He misses me! I press it to my chest.
Kat: Miss you too. See you tonight. Do we need to bring anything?
Will: Maybe dessert?
Will: And you.
I reply with a kiss emoji, and storm downstairs. “Mum, we're going there tonight for a BBQ. Need to make dessert. I'm thinking of making my homemade raspberry lamington.”
My mum peeks from behind the door. “I'm not sure if we have coconut, darling. Stan, Stan! You need to go to the shop for some baking ingredients. Our Kat needs to impress the de Jongs.”
My dad puts down his newspaper and mutters something about how the de Jongs better impress us instead, but he takes his keys and waves.
I wave back. “I'll text you what I need, dad. Thank you.”
I put my apron on, pin my hair in a messy bun and clap my hands. “Let's do this!”
Chapter 7
Will
I winceat Daryl's black and gold shirt. “Don't you have something else to wear? The Featherstones are coming.”
Daryl sips a glass of prosecco and looks me straight in the eye. “They're not the Royal family. You, little bro, can go fuck yourself.”
“Language!” My dad shouts from the charcoal barbecue grill.
Daryl rolls his eyes. John comes outside with a tray of fresh bread buns. We're ready, now we're just waiting for Kat and her family. They're running ten minutes late.
My mum is huffing and I see it's going to be a slog uphill tonight.
“Maybe text her to see where they are.”
“I messaged her ten minutes ago, they're coming, hold your horses.”
A car stops outside, and the garden gate swings open tentatively. “Yoo-hoo, we're here!” Kat's voice sounds tentative.
