‘I fancy noodles.’
‘Noodles it is.’
At the restaurant, a waiter takes us to a table near the window and we slide across the long benches opposite each other.
‘How’s your mum?’ he asks, while studying the menu.
‘Her face is healing, and the physio exercises are helping her neck, but she’s been acting weird since the crash.’
He looks up from his menu. ‘Weird how?’
‘I don’t know – distracted? Not herself.’
He considers this. ‘Well, it was a traumatic experience – you’ll both need time to get over it. Keep an eye on her and let me know if you’re still worried.’
‘Okay.’
I take a breath and go to ask him about Will Bailey, but he catches me off guard with: ‘So, how’s your love life?’
He’s not being entirely serious but my cheeks flash with heat as Nathan pops into my head. ‘Non-existent. How’s yours? Are you still seeing Katya?’
‘Sort of.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means sometimes I see Katya, and sometimes I see Lily, or Gretchen, or Camilla.’
He’s making up these names, but he has had a lot of girlfriends. Katya’s the first one to leave a toothbrush in his bathroom, though.
The waiter takes our order and when he’s gone, I ask, ‘Don’t you like Katya anymore?’
‘Honestly? She’s a bit high-maintenance.’
I don’t know what he means but I nod anyway. I’ve only met her a few times – she’s usually leaving when I’m arriving. Everything about her is glamorous – her clothes, hair, and make-up.
‘How old is she again?’ I tease.
‘I’m not sure.’ She’s twenty-eight – Dad is forty.
The food arrives, and we shut up and eat. Well, I do. Dad keeps dropping little clumps of rice before they reach his mouth. I’m a chopsticks expert – Chloe’s dad is Chinese, and I eat at hers all the time. His food issogood.
‘You’re embarrassing me,’ he whispers, giving up and using his fork.
I can’t think of a way to bring up the subject of Will Bailey, so I come right out with it while his mouth is full. ‘Dad, have you heard of Will Bailey?’
He splutters and swallows. ‘Sorry?’
‘Have you heard of Will Bailey?’ I repeat, but I said it clearly the first time.
‘What, the singer?’ He keeps his eyes on his food. ‘Yeah, magnificent voice.’
‘Did you know Mum knew him?’
His eyes dart up and bore into me. ‘How do you know that?’
I knew it! ‘Something she said. Didyouknow him?’
‘Listen.’ He wipes his mouth with a napkin, places it on the table. ‘Your mum wouldn’t want me talking about this.’