It could be impossible.
There he was, same smug grin on his face, same thick thighs and bulging arms stressing the seams of his jeans and T-shirt. What was wrong with this man, could he not buy clothes that fit?
‘Fuck off,’ I said, primly straightening the collar of my pyjama top.
‘Spoken like the daughter of two literary luminaries.’
Joe raked a hand through his dark hair like something out of a shampoo ad but made absolutely no move to fuck off.
‘Did you want something?’ I asked, eyes on the ground. It wasn’t safe to look at him, like the Ark of the Covenant or the sun or the sell-by date on a bag of Mini Eggs you find in November when you’re on your period. There were some things we were better off not knowing.
‘Yes,’ Joe said. ‘A fresh start.’
I considered his request for a second.
‘No. Fuck off.’
‘As much as I’d love to, that’s going to be tricky since I’m here for the whole weekend.’
‘That doesn’t mean I have to talk to you,’ I replied as his hulking frame moved directly in front of me and blocked out the sun. ‘I think we both made our feelings perfectly clear yesterday, I can’t see any need to antagonise each other further.’
He dug his hands deep into his pockets and shrugged.
‘I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.’
‘And I’m willing to shove those bygones right up your—’ I stopped myself before I could finish the sentence. I would not give him the satisfaction.
‘Look, we clearly got off on the wrong foot,’ Joe said, digging the toe of his brown suede desert boot into the ground. ‘We both had a drink, we both got carried away, I can’t see any reason why we can’t forget yesterday happened and try to be friends.’
He was unbearable. I looked up to see his mouth curved up into an insufferable half-smile.
‘If you wanted to be friends then maybe you shouldn’t have gone for a full-on character assassination during Pat Benatar yesterday,’ I suggested as his eyes flared with annoyance.
‘Me? You’re the one who flew off the handle about nothing!’
‘And you’re the one who didn’t mention you were coming to my dad’s birthday party, you total psycho!’
‘I didn’t know!’ Joe protested, sliding one hand across his chest to the tense muscles in his neck. ‘I really didn’t, it was a last-minute thing.’
Risking a glance into his eyes, I searched for the truth. How could they be so blue?
‘After you ran out, without paying your half I might add, I had dinner with my dad and he mentioned he was coming up for the party,’ he added. ‘He asked if I wanted to come, I said yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I can’t say no to a sixtieth birthday party?’
‘I bet old people love you,’ I guessed. ‘They’re probably the last generation that find your nonsense charming.’
‘I do quite well with the septuagenarian set,’ he admitted.
‘At least you’re self-aware,’ I said with a sniff. ‘But I still don’t believe you.’
Joe let out an exasperated sigh. ‘What, you think I changed all my weekend plans then begged him to bring me along exclusively to torment you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Didn’t have you pegged for arrogance,’ he replied with a click of the tongue.
