Claire rubbed her arms as the sky clouded over and the air turned chilly.
‘Let’s have coffee and cake inside,’ Mark said, standing and starting to clear the table, ‘and we can discuss the book.’
‘I’ll just ring my mother first,’ Claire said.
Claire went to her bedroom to make the call while Mark loaded the dishwasher. When she came back into the living room, he was sitting at the table waiting for her with the promised coffee and cake, and a large pile of manuscripts in front of him. When she joined him at the table, she was alarmed to see it was printouts of her blog. She had to will herself not to blush as he calmly leafed through some of her raunchiest posts, discussing the different ways the book might be organised, chronologically oraccording to topic.
‘This cake is delicious. I’m impressed.’ A man who baked was a definite plus, Claire thought – and she was glad of the sugar to calm her nerves. She had to remind herself she was supposed to be the ballsy girl who had done all this stuff, and force herself to act casually.
‘I thought maybe it could be arranged episodically,’ Mark said, ‘but obviously with regular characters and a constant theme running through it – a bit likeSex and the City. The book, not the show.’
‘Right.’
‘So I think maybe you need to write some extra material to give it more cohesion. I also think it needs some sort of conclusion. Maybe you should end up with one of these guys.’
‘Who would you suggest?’
‘You know, I always kind of thought you’d end up with Mr Bossy.’
‘Really?’ She gulped.
‘He seemed like the one you were always drawn back to. But that was before I met you, of course. Now that I know you, he doesn’t really seem your type.’
‘I could still write it that way – it doesn’t have to be true.’ It could be fun to do, she thought. She had always enjoyed writing about Mr Bossy.
‘Or how about Mr Strange? You had something pretty solid going with him.’
‘Uh-uh.’ She shook her head. ‘The clue is in his name.’
‘Can I ask you something?’ he said, his tone wary.
‘Yeah.’
‘This guy you’ve been writing about recently – the Artist. Is he real?’
‘Oh.’ Claire thought quickly. But she had no reason to lie. It was almost a relief that there was something in her blog that was at least partly true, and it wasn’t as if Markexpected her to be celibate – quite the opposite. ‘Yes, he’s real,’ she said.
‘And he’s around at the moment?’
‘Um… yeah, that part is true. I’ve been… seeing him lately.’ She blushed.
‘Well… maybe you’ll end up with him.’
‘Oh no,’ she said quickly. ‘He’s not boyfriend material.’
‘Right.’ Something like relief passed across Mark’s face. ‘Well, you could always meet someone new,’ he said, looking at her meaningfully.
‘Do you have anyone particular in mind?’
He smiled. ‘Call him Mr Right.’
‘And what would Mr Right be like?’ she asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know. Decent guy, likes cats. Makes a mean lemon drizzle cake, world-famous nachos…’
She laughed. ‘It would be a good way of wrapping up the blog, I guess. Because I wouldn’t want to tell everyone what Mr Right and I were doing. It’d be private.’
‘Do you plan to stop writing the blog?’
