Page 20 of Faking It (and falling in love)

“I can,” said Philippa.

“Well I, for one, would not disagree. You seem to be able to handle anything. I’m a bit envious, really,” she said, a rueful smile on her face.

“But you have it all worked out,” said Philippa, frowning. “You have your freelance work, your social life, a woman in every port… I’m a little envious of that.” The car was turning into Kings Heath High Street.

“It might look like that,” said Alex, “but I’ll be honest, it’s not as straightforward as that.”

“Hmm,” said Philippa, sensing there was something she wasn’t being told. “A likely story.”

“Fancy a nightcap?” said Alex as the taxi pulled up outside a small terraced house.

“Sure,” said Philippa, resolving not to overthink this. It was just a drink, right? With every straight man she’d ever met, inviting a woman in for a drink after a meal meant only one thing. But the rules were different here. They were friends.

Or were they?

It was hard to divine the line between reality and fakery after such a successful evening. Philippa wondered if it was all artifice. It didn’t feel like it was.

“Don’t worry.” Alex was getting out of the car. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to read Philippa’s mind. “I’m notmaking a move on you. I just thought we were having a nice conversation, and it seemed a shame not to finish it.”

“Of course,” said Philippa, joining Alex on the pavement. “This is all a charade.” She felt a dull weight in her stomach as she said the words.

Alex’s head dropped slightly, as she searched for her front door keys in her pocket. “Naturally,” she agreed.

The atmosphere seemed to change in that moment, and Philippa couldn’t quite work out why. Alex’s house was a small two-up, two-down Victorian terrace, of which there were many in Kings Heath. Philippa had been in countless versions of this house throughout her life. It was fascinating to her how even though they were all structurally the same, each resident managed to make their house completely different.

Alex’s house was small but beautifully formed. Philippa should have expected nothing less of a graphic designer. The living room was painted a deep blue with a slight hint of green. It was like stepping into another world. A calm and thoughtful world. Perhaps not what she might have expected from the effervescent Alex.

“I’ve got some hot chocolate I was given for Christmas,” said Alex. “It must be too late for coffee, even for you, so I say we break into that.”

They walked through into the kitchen. “Perfect,” said Philippa. “Sounds like a suitable way to celebrate the possibility of a new contract.” She knew she was safe if she stuck to work. That was where she was confident. The complexity of a friendship crossed with a fake romantic relationship was unfamiliar territory.

“Too right,” said Alex.

They took their hot chocolates into the living room where they sat on a battered leather sofa. “This may be the mostcomfortable thing I’ve ever sat on,” said Philippa, making herself at home.

“I picked it up at the vintage place in Digbeth. It’s very old, but properly good quality.” Alex took a sip from her hot chocolate and smiled. “Mmm.” Philippa’s stomach flipped.

“I have to say,” said Philippa, forcing herself to talk. “You seemed very at home this evening. I was impressed with your story of how we met, very smooth.”

“Well, it was true. No need to embellish much, to be honest,” said Alex. She looked at Philippa, her eyes darkening.

“I guess,” said Philippa, recalling how Alex had said she’d noticed Philippa the moment she saw her. Was that not an embellishment, then?

They both fell silent for a moment, sitting side by side, hot chocolates in their hands, half turned to face one another. The air stretched between them and Philippa felt her ears prickle. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she didn’t dare speak to find out. What would she even say?

Alex looked for a moment like she was about to lean closer. And Philippa couldn’t help but gaze at her full lips.

Then Alex put her hot chocolate onto the coffee table nearby. “Right, so how are we going to get you a real date?” she said, and the moment evaporated. Had Philippa imagined it?

“Oh heavens, I don’t know,” said Philippa. “When we went out to that bar with Charlie, everyone was so young. Far too young.”

“I reckon between us, me and Charlie must surely know someone we can set you up with,” said Alex, picking up her phone and beginning to scroll through her contacts.

“Oh no, please don’t,” said Philippa. “If you set me up, you’d be asking me how it went and whether I liked your friend, and they’d report back to you on what I was like. It would be tooweird. I’m just happy to see who I meet through the natural course of time.”

“Ooh,” said Alex, “old school.” She put down her phone. “Ok, well, let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will. And anyway, what about you? Don’t you want to meet someone and settle down?” Philippa took a luxurious mouthful of the hot chocolate. It was really very good.

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