“Well, there’s not a specific oven for beef, Rafe.” Her casual use of my first name was another step forward, especially in front of Poppy. “Most people just have one oven total. Not meat ovens and vegetable ovens.”
“Right, yes.” I paused. “As for actually switching the confounded thing on? Is there a specific...?”
Clara let out another little snort-laugh and moved to brush past me to get to the largest oven, turning it on then moving the inner trays around to make room for the beef which she put in. “We can cook the roasties in the same one.”
“What about the Yorkshire puddings?” Poppy asked. “I bloody love Yorkshire puddings. I don’t want to miss out on Yorkshire puddings.”
She smiled at Poppy. “They only take around twenty minutes, so two hours might be overkill.”
“Oh wow, I’d have bunged everything in at the same time and called the job a good ’un.”
“Right, well,” Clara said in an unsure voice after she’d turned the oven on and put the meat inside. “I’ll just get a cup of tea, and then I guess I should...” She glanced nervously at the door to the kitchen, then back at us, and then straightened her shoulders. “I guess I’ll be popping out.”
I frowned at her. “Clara, you’re not going anywhere.”
Her eyes went wide, and when she took a small step back, I realised I might have come on a bit strong. I gentled my tone when I spoke again. “I just meant, it’s Sunday, andyou don’t want to traipse all around London on a Sunday. Stay and have lunch.”
She pulled her lips between her teeth to bite them as she looked between me and the roast potatoes, clearly tempted. “Um, it’s just I think I said to Lily that I, um...”
“Oh, Lily’s coming,” Poppy said, and Clara’s head jerked in her direction.
“Lily’s cominghere?”
“Oh yes and she’s bringing someone called George?”
“George the goldfish?”
Poppy laughed. “Ah! That makes more sense. She said she was tired of feeding him and cleaning him out. Ithoughtit was a bit of a bizarre intro. Anyway, it’ll be a laugh. Mum and Dad will get a kick out of her.”
“What? Your mum and dad?”
“Yeah, of course. They should be here after the wicked witch brings Ozzie back.”
“Poppy,” I said in a warning tone.
“Ugh, calm down, Rafe. Clara must know what a mega-bitch your ex is.”
“You know I try to keep it civilised for Ozzie,” I gritted out.
“Well, Oz isn’t here yet, so I can say what I like. You met her yet, Clara? As Ozzie’s teacher, I mean.”
Clara shook her head in sharp jerks. “N-no, I don’t meet the parents.”
“Oh? You met my brother though?”
“Er… well, Rafe sort of...”
“I bulldozed my way into meeting Clara,” I told Poppy.
“Standard,” she replied with an eye roll.
Clara’s smile was strained now. “Listen,” she said as she looked at me. “Rafe, I really don’t think it’s appropriate for me to meet your parents or your ex-wife.”
I stepped closer to Clara, wanting to take her in my arms but very aware that she wasn’t comfortable with PDA in front of my sister.
“It’s just Sunday lunch, darling,” I said softly. At the endearment, Clara’s eyes flew wide, and she glanced at Poppy, then back at me. Poppy, always intuitive, winked at me and took this as her cue to leave.
“Oh, just remembered we don’t have any mint sauce,” she said in mock horror.
