I felt the tension flaring off him. He was right; I hadn’t wanted a relationship. I liked being single, being answerable to no one. I thrived off being independent, because it was all I’d really known, despite being married. Going round a supermarket and having to think about what to buy for the person I was living with was not on the top ten of things to do.
“I like what we have now. I like spending time with you,” I chose my words carefully, because there was one part that Amber had said that I knew was true. “I like the fun that we have. I know we’re getting married for convenience and it’ll be easy for that to become real, so I think we have to be slow with some stuff and not go all in. Does that make sense?”
He nodded, but I could tell it was with a clenched jaw.
“Don’t listen to Amber, Sophie.”
“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“No, you should’ve and I’m glad. She didn’t find us by accident last night, she’d paid the doorman to let her know if I went there. I’m going to go out on a limb and say she’s not keen on me getting married.” He pulled up in a parking space. “Let me buy you dinner. Please?”
It was the please that did it. My resolve was never going to be enough.
18
Liam
The banging at my door at nine am the following morning after I’d bought a new house told me I had visitors who were identifiable as pains-in-the-arse and tests-of-patience.
The banging had a familiar beat to it, one I knew from old, and one I knew would not go away no matter how much I ignored it. I rolled over, Sophie’s warm body still sleeping the sleep of the satisfied.
I pulled on sweats that I found on the floor – no, I hadn’t yet cleaned up -- and headed to the door, half wondering why I hadn’t given my sisters a key, but also knowing full well why that would be a bad idea.
Jodie and Lena stood on the other side of the door. Jodie held up a bag of what I knew were my favourite freshly ground coffee beans and Lena had a bag of what I knew would contain breakfast sandwiches.
“We’ve both taken time off work,” Jodie said, pushing her way in, to form a deputation.”
“Do you actually know what that means?” I looked at my foster sister and still saw the irritating thirteen year old despite that she was a mother herself now.
“She had to look it up,” Lena headed straight for my kitchen. “We haven’t spoken all together for ages, so we thought we’d come round here. We figured you’d be in as there was a photo of you coming out of a restaurant last night with yourfiancée– the one we have yet to meet.”
“And we think it’s a bit shitty that you haven’t introduced us yet.” Jodie sat down. “No sugar for me. I’m on a diet.”
I rolled my eyes about as far back as they’d go and wished I still smoked, but that had been another habit I’d given up half a decade ago. “You’re always on a diet, Jodes, and you really don’t need to be. Dom loves you as you are.”
She pulled a face and pretended to grab her belly.
“I bet you still brought donuts.”
“Guilty as charged.” Lena lifted them from the bag. “Some things don’t change. Now we need the full story on Sophie. Plus, do we get a family discount for her spas?”
I was about to find some form of response, probably some weak distraction technique that would only work because they’d call me out on it, when Sophie walked in.
She was wearing one of my band T-shirts and a pair of shorts that I knew she’d have wrapped over at the waist band so they fit. Her hair was in its usual morning messy bun, she had no make-up on and she looked gorgeous.
“He’s staring at her open mouthed. This is serious, Jodes.” Lena’s voice brought me back to earth. “Liam’s in love.”
They started singing something from some horrendous manufactured girl band.
Sophie laughed. “You can book yourselves in for a spa day, if you want. Just let me know a day and which spa and I’ll get you on the list. But as payment, I need embarrassing details on Liam. As many as you’ve got.”
They closed in on her, a witches coven, their cauldron the bag of donuts which was already being offered to Sophie as part of their initiation.
I remembered once when they turned up and Amber had been with me, a different house and a different time. There had been donuts then, and croissants plus whatever other bakery crap they’d found. That was one of the things of being in care; food. Often, the kids in care homes had been neglected, and food was something that they’d been deprived of, so there were secret eaters, binge eaters, stealers, hoarders – because you might not be used to knowing where the next meal was coming from. Foster care was generally better, but I knew of some foster homes where the carers were about the money and the fridge was locked.
Food was important.
Sharing it was a sign of acceptance. Accepting it was a sign of being on the same level. Refusing it made people ask questions and kids from care knew how to ask questions.
