‘Firm footing yes. Clear mutual understanding of the requirements, agreed. But not a ninety-page countersigned document.’ Darla flopped down on the sofa. ‘Put the kettle on. I have crap to share.’
Ros did as Darla suggested and then moved to lean against the sofa and stare at the flip chart. ‘I think I’ve covered all bases but I’ll need to type it up.’
‘No, you don’t. You need to call Cameron and agree a price before he goes off the idea, and then... I don’t know, get him to come over and go through your flip charts, then you can introduce him to Barry. Sooner rather than... well, later.’ The way Darla saidlaterhad Ros’s attention. Documented detail was her comfort blanket. But right now she didn’t have time for that.
‘Perhaps we could both sign the flip charts,’ suggested Ros.
‘There you go. Decaffeinated tea please and a symp-athetic ear. If I ever sit for that dog again I will need a gas mask. It’s good to breathe fart-free air for a couple of hours.’
‘Tea coming right up,’ said Ros, keen to hear about Darla’s troubles and forget about her own.
Ros had almost cancelled her meeting with Cameron numerous times throughout Friday and had caught herself thinking about all the many things they would need to cover if they were to pull off the deception. There was easily enough to fill another flip chart. They had exchanged text messages and Cameron seemed very happy with the payment programme she had offered, which involved an initial sign-up fee, to make sure he was committed, and then weekly payments with an estimated duration of twelve weeks. Twelve weeks. On one hand she very much hoped her dad was going to be around a little longer; on the other, twelve weeks was a long time to fake being in a relationship.
Ros showered and changed into something casual and then thought that perhaps business attire might give a more formal feel; it was a meeting after all. She was putting on a shirt when the entry bell sounded. Cameron was early. She buzzed him in and hastily did up the buttons. Shirt and jeans would have to do.
‘Hiya,’ said Cameron shyly, slinking inside the apartment and closing the door before handing Ros a small bunch of yellow carnations. ‘I got you these.’
‘Thank you, that’s kind of you but unnecessary. It has made me think of something else to add to the list... expenses.’ She put the flowers down on the worktop and turned over three flip chart pages until she came to a free space. ‘We’ll need a process for you to claim back any valid expenditure.’
‘They’re just a gift,’ said Cameron.
Ros wasn’t sure what to say.
Cameron looked around. ‘I figured if you lived in Ocean Village it would be a smart pad but wow this is a gorgeous place you have.’
Ros was happy to take compliments about her home. The modern top-floor apartment with wrap-around balcony and views over the marina was her pride and joy. ‘Thank you.’
Cameron came to stand next to her and whistled through his teeth. ‘That is some list. I know you said you wanted to go over a few details but this is a whole workshop. I bet you don’t usually workshop your relationships.’ He laughed.
Ros sidled over to the flip chart pad and tore off a couple of pages, hastily folded them on her way to the recycling box. He didn’t need to know about the disastrous session with her last boyfriend.
‘Anyway I’d best get these in some water,’ she said, scanning Cameron as she picked up the flowers. He looked all studenty in his hoodie, ripped jeans and canvas pumps. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘A beer would be great, thanks.’
‘I meant tea or coffee,’ said Ros.
‘Gotcha. Builder’s tea, two sugars please.’ There was an awkward silence while Ros made the drinks. It was beyond weird to have this virtual stranger in her home. She wasn’t blessed in the small-talk department as it was and this was stretching her skills.
‘Did you come far?’ she asked.
‘Portswood. I’m in a house share there.’
‘I remember my shared house. Awful, I don’t envy you going back to university. Master’s or PHD?’
‘It’s my first time at uni. I’m studying for a BSc in Computer Science.’
‘Oh,’ said Ros, not really knowing what else to say. ‘Anyway, shall we crack on?’ She passed him his tea.
‘Sure. Can I ask about your dad? His diagnosis is really tough on both of you.’
‘Thanks. It was a bit of a shock. Well, huge shock actually. He’d been fine. Just a bit tired. His GP sent him for a blood test and...’ Ros didn’t want to relive the series of appointments that had led them to the diagnosis.
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ She lifted her chin. ‘What did you want to know?’
‘What’s his name?’
