‘Your mum wants to put the roast potatoes for five minutes boiling and thirty in the oven,’ Mimi groans.
I still ignore Mauve’s presence.
‘They do need about fifteen minutes boiling,’ Luc explains. ‘And then you want to dry them off with some kitchen roll or something and batter them around in the pan to get a fluff on the edges… Honestly, you’ll want to put them in the oven for closer to fifty minutes.’
‘You’re all insane,’ Mauve pouts.
‘Please try it,’ Mimi begs. We’re all dreading another round of Mauve’s pale, hard-in-the-middle potatoes.
‘You won’t be disappointed, Mrs Martin,’ Luc says.
‘Oh, Luc, if this one can’t even call me Mum, you can call me Mauve, too.’
‘Noted, Mauve,’ Luc smiles, his teeth set together.
I hate how polite we’re being. How sick it’s making me feel. But I know Luc doesn’t have it in him to be confrontational. It’s not like I do either. I’m here, aren’t I?
I grab his hand and lead him through to the living room where Jess and Rory are still giggling over something on the sofa. I hand Rory the small gift bag. ‘Happy birthday, Ror.’
‘Thanks, Sie.’
I perch on the tiny slither of sofa next to Jess and wrap my arms around her. Luc goes for a sofa on the other side of the room, and I can feel his eyes on me, drawing me back to himin some sort of magnetic force. Luc’s gaze brushes over me like watercolour on a canvas, peppering my skin with blushes and scarlets.
We gifted Rory a special pen to do his lawyering with. I could buy him anything he wants in the world, and he always tells me not to get him anything. I could buy him a bigger house or something right next to his office, but he’s happy in his three-bedroom semi-detached on the outskirts of London. I kind of love it, to be honest.
Mimi comes in carrying a bowl of crisps and a little pot of dip for us to tuck into. My knees feel like they creak when I get up, before joining Luc on the other sofa. I really need this week off touring. It’s come at the perfect time after a month on the road. Luc’s arm drapes over my shoulder, and I relax into the crook of his body, my muscles loosening. My eyes are heavy and, honestly, I could fall asleep right here.
‘So,’ Rory clears his throat. ‘You two aren’t faking it anymore, are you.’ It’s more a statement than a question.
In the month since everything was resolved, I’ve never explicitly told Rory, even Mimi, that Luc and I are no longer faking it. I especially haven’t told Mauve. I presumed after the expiry date for our fake break-up passed, they would use their powers of deduction to figure it out for themselves.
I gaze at Luc and a smile gently pulls at the edges of his mouth. I’m waiting for him to confirm. To confirm what he also thinks: that it hasn’t been fake to either of us for months. Not since pottery painting. Not since he started doing all those nice things for me which weren’t for the purpose of someone seeing it online to believe we were in love.
He just keeps looking at me, the smile curling up with every moment that passes. Luc raises his eyebrows, gesturing for me to talk.
‘Yeah.’ My voice breaks. I’m still looking at Luc. ‘We’re not faking it anymore.’
Luc squeezes my hand, and I rest my head on his shoulder, letting the feeling of his body on mine wash over me.
‘I knew it,’ Rory shakes his head almost in disbelief. ‘I thought it at your launch, Sie, but because your speech was everywhere online, I thought maybe it was an exquisitely executed plan.’
‘I’m good, but I’m not that good.’ Mimi enters the room with two glasses of wine, one for Rory and one for Jess. Both red. ‘Sienna, Luc?’
‘I’ll grab white if there is any,’ I say, and Luc opens his mouth to talk. ‘Luc will have red,’ I finish. ‘So, Jess.’ I turn to my best friend. ‘How was the date last night?’
‘Don’t,’ Rory warns, but he’s holding in a laugh.
‘He asked if he could have a quick nap.’
‘What?’ Luc splutters, and Rory nearly spits out his wine.
‘Where were you? For him to be able totake a nap?’ I say.
Luc’s finger runs up and down my arm, leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake.
‘We were in a bar in central. He asked and… how do you say no?’
‘How long had you been there? What time is he taking a nap? Wait, start from the beginning. I want the whole story,’ I insist.
