Sunday 19th April 2026
Lando
Icouldn’t get an Ocado delivery on time, so here I am dragging my sorry ass around Waitrose first thing on a Sunday morning. Well, ten a.m., because the shop doesn’t open until then, but it’s still disgustingly early. I’ve barely wiped the sleep crust from my eyes.
Harry’s sick with lurgy, so I’m bringing him supplies. So far I have five different types of painkiller, four different types of soup, and in a beautiful twist of fate, I’ve uncovered a plant-based Heinz Cream of Tomato.
I am giddy with excitement.
Also . . . a little nervous.
I just hope it lives up to the original Cream of Tomato, because if it doesn’t, I’ll have to suffer through the cramps and explosive diarrhoea.
I’m rounding the corner to the biscuit aisle when I spot a familiar face. Two, actually, but the first is staring up at me like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
“Lan? Is that really you? Buying your own groceries from an actual shop?” Daisy’s taking the piss, but her words still sting.
I resist the urge to clap back with a salty remark. “Hi, babes. How are you?”
“We’re good,” she says, coming in for a hug. “Serasi’s home for a couple of weeks, so we’re making the most of our time together.”
“Ah, so that’s why you haven’t replied to my texts.” There’s bitterness in my voice, and I’m doing a shit job of hiding it.
Daisy pulls an “eek” face. “I’m sorry.” She glances at my trolley, taking in my array of items—the medicines, the soup, the comfort foods like bread and doughnuts. “You poorly?” She’s trying to distract me from the fact that she’s been a shitty friend recently.
“Not me . . . Harry. I’m taking some things round.”
Daisy fails to hide the look she gives Serasi. Oh, cool. They’ve been talking about Harry and me again. “So . . . are you two official then?” She tries to ask the question so nonchalantly, but I can tell she’s been practicing with Serasi.
“We’re just friends.” I try to outdo her nonchalance and add a smile to my affected carefreeness, meanwhile my heart is trying its best to punch its way out of my chest.
“Lan.”
I stare her straight in the eye.
Daisy sighs. “You know what I’m going to say.”
“I do, and thank you. I will not be accepting any further advice on this matter. Good day, sir.” I push my trolley off down the biscuit aisle. My adrenaline is in overdrive, and I’m not paying any attention to anything I’m placing in the trolley. I accidentally bypass the Jaffa Cakes.
“Lando,” Daisy says a few moments later, catching up with me in the cereal aisle. “Please. I’m not trying to be a bitch, okay? I just think you should commit to him.”
I’m shaking my head, but Daisy keeps talking.
“You have two choices here. Either commit to him, make it official, become boyfriends and stop fucking with his heart . . .”
I can’t do that, and Daisy knows this. How many hours have we wasted drunkenly dissecting this very thing? It’s not my inability to commit that’s stopping me, it’s the knowledge that eventually everyone leaves me. The less involved I get with them and the less I care about them, the less it will hurt when they make that inevitable choice.
“Or?”
“Or back off him, Lan. I’m pretty sure you both view the relationship differently, and I just want to make sure neither of you is going to end up . . . wounded.”
“Mmmhmm. You made your feelings perfectly clear on Valentine’s Day,” I say. I want to storm away again, but I don’t. I stay rooted to the spot.
Daisy looks off behind me, and I assume Serasi is closing the gap between us. “I’m not telling you how to live your life. I’m not telling you what to do. All I’m saying is, can you please think about how Abs sees your involvement?”
She lowers her voice as an older woman wheels her trolley past the Cornflakes. “You two behave like a couple. In public, you’re all over each other all the time, and I don’t even want to know what happens in private. But if you’re this adamant there can never be a real relationship, you need to stop leading him on. Lando, he’s in love with you. Even Serasi can see that he only has eyes for you. You’re going to . . .”
Daisy puffs out a long, weight-of-the-world sigh, and shakes her head, evidently deciding not to finish her sentence.
