‘I’m so glad I’m not involved,’ says Aisha cheerily. ‘We’re saving all our stress, and cash, for eleven-plus entry.’
‘Of course you are,’ says Tor. ‘I expect money’s quite tight with Ranni’s noble commitment to the NHS.’
‘Well, you can’t do heart transplants privately,’ says Aisha. ‘Organs can’t be bought and sold.’
‘Not in the UK, anyway,’ says Tor, and then offers her sageadvice. ‘If he’d gone into cosmetic surgery, you could afford a house in Hampstead and prep schools for all three.’
‘We’re happy as we are,’ says Aisha, her anger almost undetectable, but the readjustment of her leggings is telling.
Tor stares as if Aisha is mad and resists a retort but can’t resist a little shake of her head in my direction.
‘How’s Ellie?’ asks Tor, moving targets quickly. ‘She must be super excited. I knew some bursary girls at my school and they actually coped quite well.’
‘She’s on cloud nine,’ says Sophie, her head tilted back in fear of someone biting it off.
‘It’s so good to be aspirational, but it’s such a gamble too,’ says Tor.
‘What’s the gamble?’ says Sophie, her calm demeanour breaking slightly.
‘If Ellie’s set her heart on the place and doesn’t get a bursary, she’ll be heartbroken,’ says Tor with a faintly sinister smile.
‘She knows Adams can only happen if we get funding,’ Sophie says firmly, and stabs a slice of red pepper. ‘Anyway, we’ve applied to four other schools.’
‘Good for you. Not every child is happy in an environment like Adams,’ declares Tor.
Sophie looks like she’s about to swing at her, but her fist opens out and her nails tap in irritation on the tabletop.
‘Ellie’s super-bright. They’d be mad not to offer her a place,’ I say, which is simply a statement of truth, but Sophie’s face melts with delight, and I realize why I’m always nice to her. She’s like an emotional slot machine that always pays out.
‘Are you still excited about your other news, Sophie?’ says Aisha.
Sophie’s been regaling us all again about Paolo’s proposal. Two days into her engagement, she’s already shared a date for the wedding and asked us to keep our diaries free. Aisha instantly asked for her wedding list, while I immediately wanted to book a holiday. Weddings bring out the worst in me, they always seem to end in violence or inappropriate sex.
‘I’m so excited,’ says Sophie. ‘I’m a fiancée for the first time in my life!’
‘Did you have to think about saying “yes” after such a long wait?’ inserts Tor to deflate Sophie’s enthusiasm.
‘I had no doubts at all,’ says Sophie, smugly.
‘So nice to have such simple emotions,’ says Tor. ‘I thought long and hard before I said yes to Law, but the promise of a wedding at Westminster Abbey swung it.’
‘I thought you were married at St Margaret’s Church,’ I gently correct Tor.
‘Which is in the grounds of Westminster Abbey,’ she replies emphatically.
‘I don’t care where we’re married, I’m just happy,’ says Sophie. ‘He loves me, he makes me laugh, he can cook, and he’s hung like a horse – what more can I ask?’
We laugh so loud that people turn and stare.
‘Ranni was upset by an article he read in theObserverthe other day,’ says Aisha, quietly. ‘It said the average penis size in the UK had grown by half an inch in the last twenty years.’
‘Why was he sad?’ says Sophie.
‘He said, in two decades, he’s lost his hair, gained ten kilos, and his penis is now below the national average.’
‘What about you, Tor? Does Lawrence satisfy your needs?’ says Sophie, as laughter subsides.
‘Oh, there are few needs that I leave Law to satisfy,’ says Tor.
