‘No, I’m saying that’s what I did last time I was there.’ He closed his eyes and smiled at a memory. ‘My cousin Naima’s wedding, it was brilliant. Right up until Uncle Bikram fell arse over tit and showed everyone what a real Scotsman wears under his kilt. Nearly turned me straight on the spot.’
‘Thank you for that very insightful input,’ Desi scowled at Joel while he held out two different dresses for my approval. I nodded towards the more conservative red velvet maxi offering. He tossed a neon-pink mini alternative into my case instead. ‘Best-case scenario, you fall in love with him and get your heart broken. Worst-case scenario, they’re going to roast you over an open fire and eat you for Christmas dinner.’
‘She does love a scenario, this one,’ Joel muttered,contemplating a pair of skinny jeans over a pair of wide leg leopard-print trousers. ‘How are they the only two options? There have to be a thousand more. What if the train breaks down on the way and they get trapped in a frozen wasteland and the passengers resort to cannibalism? What if his mother is a witch and there’s a curse on the family that turns them all into Loch Ness monsters? What if they drive through a fairy circle and find themselves stuck inBravehearttimes, or whatever the fuck happens inOutlander?’
‘You really have got to start actually watching the telly rather than reading the Wikipedia articles while it’s on,’ I told him. ‘And who’s to sayhewon’t fall in love withmeand gethisheart broken?’
Desi marched across the room to her bookcase and began pulling out a selection of brightly coloured paperbacks, hurling them at my cowering form. ‘What’s this? Oh look, a book about two people who fake date then fall in love. And what happens in this one? A fake engagement that ends in the couple catching feelings. This is the formula, Laura, you make a deal, you swear you won’t catch feelings then he sweeps you off your feet and bangs you senseless in your just one bed. But guess what? The bit where you end up together isnotguaranteed.’
‘I never said I wasn’t going to have sex with him, I said I’m not going to fall in love with him,’ I replied casually. ‘He is pretty fit, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating biscuits.’
Desi said nothing, only blinked.
‘Sorry,’ I fluttered my eyelashes in her direction. ‘I meant I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating shortbread.’
‘You’re an idiot,’ she said with a sigh. ‘An absolute fool.’
‘Calm down, Des,’ I said. ‘It’s not going to be holding hands and moonlit strolls, more like dirty looks and temper tantrums, no PDA involved whatsoever. It’s all been agreed. I don’t have to convince his family we’re in love, only persuade them to hate my guts.’
‘And how exactly are you going to pull that off?’
‘Easy. I’m going to pretend I’m you.’
She wasn’t even a little bit offended.
‘You’ve lost your mind.’
‘And you’re overthinking it,’ I replied, turning back to my packing. How many pairs of knickers would I need for five days away? Ten? Twelve? Twelve seemed safe. ‘It’s going to be a breeze. Pretty sure his mum already hates me so half the job is done but they’re not going to hurt me. She was wearing a silk scarf. Fastened with abrooch. Whoever heard of someone who owns a brooch skinning people alive?’
Joel launched himself onto the bed, right in the middle of my pile of clean clothes.
‘Question. If you do shag him and you get free rent, does that technically count as sex work?’
‘You tell me, you’re my accountant.’
‘Hmm.’ He rubbed his chin and frowned. ‘I think he’d have more of a problem than you, since you’ve got a written agreement and everything. As long as he’s not making a profit or you don’t pay more than seven thousand five hundred pounds in a single tax year, he doesn’t have to report it. If you’re just subletting for cash under the table, there wouldn’t be an issue.’
Desi dumped herself on the bed beside Joel and took my hand in hers, her long black hair snapped back ina claw clip, a genuine expression of concern on her pretty face.
‘You’re too nice, that’s your problem,’ she said, almost gently but not quite. ‘What sort of psycho suggests something like this in the first place?’
‘I suggested it,’ I replied and she covered her face with a pair of red tartan shirt-and-shorts pyjamas and groaned. ‘What? He gets a fake girlfriend for five days and I get a month’s free rent and a holiday in Scotland. I’ve got nothing to lose.’
‘Unless his family does skin you alive,’ Joel commented. ‘Some things are better with the skin on, Lau, like a nice little potato wedge.’
Rational thought was a mystery to the pair of them.
‘Look, I’ll be careful,’ I promised. ‘Obviously I’m not actually going to have sex with him, that was a joke, and I’m definitely, definitely not going to fall in love with him. You know I’m a feelings-free zone—’
‘Until you’re fully qualified, we know,’ Desi completed my sentence for me, parroting the reasoning I’d used time and time again whenever conversation turned to my barren love life. ‘You don’t need any distractions, we know, we’ve heard it, we’ve rolled our eyes at it.’
‘We’ve talked about it behind your back,’ Joel added. ‘Extensively.’
‘He’s not my type anyway,’ I said airily. ‘He’s too tall and healthy looking. Seems the type to go outside voluntarily and enjoy it.’
Joel gave a scandalised gasp.
‘Not …outdoorsy?’
