‘I forgot I’d mentioned it,’ he replied through gritted teeth. ‘Remember when you couldn’t meet Mum and Dad for dinner last time they were in London? Because you were boycotting the steak restaurant?’
‘Was that because they were servingnarwhal?’ I asked pointedly.
‘Nae, hen, just regular cow,’ Derek answered. ‘Tuck in.’
Fiona waited at my side, hands clasped, breath held as I picked up my fork. Vegan food didn’t bother me. I stuck to a relatively strict Veganuary every year, as long as I wasn’t hungover, and tried to do meatless Mondays, but the meals I made for myself never looked or smelled quite like this.
‘What is it?’ I asked as politely as possible. It was one thing to turn the family off Caroline in general, it was another to outright insult another woman’s hard work. I simply couldn’t do it.
‘A vegan roast,’ Fi replied proudly. ‘It’s all the veggies from lunch mixed together with a dash of vegetable oil and baked. Took a hoon’s age to find the blender. And no complex carbs either, whatever that means.’
‘It looks …’ I glanced over to Callum, who at least had the decency to look apologetic. ‘It looks so …’
‘It looks fantastic, Fiona,’ he supplied. ‘Stunning. Couldn’t have done better myself.’
‘Oh get away with you,’ she cackled. ‘High praise from the master chef. I want to see four clean plates or there’ll be no pudding.’
‘What’s for pudding?’ I asked hopefully.
‘Steamed chocolate pudding with custard for them and you’re having sliced apple surprise.’
‘What’s the surprise?’
‘That it’s a sliced apple because I couldn’t pull a vegan dessert out of my backside with only twenty-four hours’ notice.’
The heartbroken sob was out my mouth before I could stop it.
‘Thank you, Fi,’ Callum said quickly. ‘You’re amazing.’
‘Yes, amazing,’ I echoed. ‘Thank you, Fi.’
The kitchen door rattled shut, leaving the four of us alone in an uncomfortable silence.
‘I don’t know about you but my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut, everybody dig in,’ Derek declared, standing to pour wine for Callum. Even though I’d had far too much the night before, I eagerly held out my glass. Anything to help the vegan roast go down more easily.
‘No need to be polite,’ he said, shaking his head and passing me over to pour for Lizzie. ‘You don’t believe in phones, you don’t eat meat, you don’t drink. I’mstarting to wonder what it is you do do. Besides massage with balls.’
‘Sorry, what?’ My head flicked back to Callum. ‘I don’t what?’
‘You don’t drink.’
I watched Callum wince, presumably remembering something he’d forgotten.
‘That’s why we couldn’t come on the distillery tour back in July. We hadn’t been seeing each other that long, I didn’t think it was the best way for you to meet the family.’
‘Narwhal,’ I whispered, defeated. ‘Narwhal narwhal narwhal.’
‘Each to their own, that’s what I say,’ Derek cheered. ‘But I hope you’re not planning to preach the evils of alcohol while you’re here.’ Callum chewed on the inside of his cheek but didn’t offer to help me escape. Why bother establishing a safe word if I was not in any way, shape or form, safe?
‘No,’ I assured his dad. ‘I wasn’t planning on it.’
While the three of them tucked into their delicious-looking food, I poked at my lovingly prepared vegan roast. It held together with more conviction than it should, and I was sure I could see Fiona’s handprints moulded into each side when I squinted.
‘I have to admit,’ Derek’s voice boomed as though I were sitting three rooms over and not across the table. ‘You’re not at all how I imagined you.’
‘Am I not?’ I poked at an unidentifiable beige chunk that separated itself from the mass, offering itself up as tribute. ‘What were you expecting?’
‘I could’ve sworn you said she was a blonde,’ Lizzie said first. ‘Did he not, Derek?’
