“That doesn’t help.”
“Didn’t think it would. Do you think you’re in love with Owen?”
“I don’t know. Seph thinks I am.”
“Seph’s probably right. You shared a womb. He knows everything about you. Tell me your symptoms.”
I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. Saying the things I thought aloud made them real, factual and not something I could as easily dismiss.
“I look forward to seeing him and if I’m not seeing him I miss him. I feel lonely if I’m not with him in the evenings, even if I’m with a friend. I feel happy and settled when we’re together. I don’t want him to be with anyone else, and I don’t think I want to be with anyone else either.”
“Tell me about his faults.”
“He’s quietly bossy and can manipulate anyone. He’s obsessively tidy. He’s a workaholic although he’d never admit it. He’s a mummy’s boy. Shall I carry on?”
“Do his faults bother you?”
“No. Do K’s bother you?”
Claire laughed. “Only when I need them to. Love’s a strong emotion. It knocks you over and pulls you by the hair into a ditch where it stamps on your face with unicorn shoes. It makes your heart centred around one person and gives them the power to determine your happiness. Yes, I know happiness is a choice and all that crap, but sometimes you meet someone and you let them have a little bit of control because they’re worth it. They make your world worth living in.”
“He does.”
“Does what?”
“What you’ve just said. He makes my world worth living in.” I remembered I was talking to my sister, who was just as sensitive as Seph in her own way. “As does my family, but he compliments that.”
“Tell him.”
“What?”
“Tell him how you feel. See how it is to say the words.” A loud roar almost deafened me. “Got to go. The sleeping banshee of London has awoken.”
* * *
I had planned what I was going to say. Kind of. I had never told anyone I loved them, even the couple of boyfriends I’d been serious about and I was more nervous about this than the first time I’d been in court. That had been successful; this I wasn’t one hundred percent confident about. I thought I knew what his response would be, but I couldn’t predict it based on precedents and previous cases.
I wore a floral print dress and cowboy boots, aiming for the boho look and wishing I’d called Ava over to help me get ready, or at least give me a decent confidence boost. Every possible response to what I wanted to tell him had gone through my head and I was greatly considering retreating back to my almost single forever mode.
We were meeting at Cases in Soho for the acoustic set that one of Owen’s friends was playing. Dave was meeting Dot there at eight pm, and I was interested to see how they got along and whether she’d speak to him or storm off to the offices in the back. Dot was already there when I arrived, sitting at the bar with a glass of red wine and a suspicious look on her face.
I approached with some caution, having spent enough time with Owen’s mum that she was no longer on her best behaviour with me. She eyed me accusingly. “This had better be good, Payton. I’ve worn my best shoes.”
I glanced down. She wore a pair of Irregular Choice heels that were red with hearts decorated them. They were eye-catching, while the rest of her outfit was fairly casual—skinny jeans and a tuck in blue shirt. She didn’t look like she could be Owen’s mum, but the one time I’d mentioned that I’d been treated to a lecture in feminism, the media and expectations. Owen had sat there and looked amused while eating a bag of popcorn. I’d retaliated by delaying his orgasm significantly later on.
“If you aren’t enjoying yourself, you know enough people here to turn it into a gathering rather than a date.”
“Hmmmm,” she said. “We’ll see. The fact you suggested it after Owen’s series of disasters gives me hope.”
I shuddered slightly, knowing exactly who was going to be on the other side of the lecture when she found out who her blind date actually was. “I just hope you have a good evening.”And you don’t kill me afterwards. “Have you seen Owen?”
“He was sorting something out with Vinny. I think he’s going to play guitar for him for a couple of songs, which means you can chaperone me and my date. You both have got so good at it, you know?” Dot’s lips pursed in a knowing smile.
“I’ll have a glass of wine.” I caught the eye of Amanda who was manning the bar with Ped. I’d met them a few times over the past few weeks. “A large one.”
I was about three sips in when I saw Dave approaching. There were already a few people in for the gig, which was due to start at eight-thirty, but he was early. I sensed a change in Dot’s demeanour and felt a finger dig my side, hard enough so that I nearly spluttered my wine.
“What did you say the name of my date was?”
