“Oh, it's so good to finally meet you, Shari. Brad's told me so much about you. He always talks so highly of you and I can see why already. I have to say I've been so nervous about today, I feel like your blessing is more important than his parents’. Not that I'm asking for your blessing, that makes it sound like I'm aiming for marriage! Hahahahaha that’d be daft, it's way too early to be thinking about that kind of thing, not yet anyways. I just meant your stamp of approval. Because Brad holds your opinion in such high regard, and I know if you didn't approve he'd be rethinking everything—” I see Brad gently tug on her hand as he tries to hide his smile. Her face curls into a grimace, and I find myself reluctantly liking her all the more for her nervousness. God knows I have verbal diarrhoea when I'm nervous, too.
With a low laugh, I grip her upper arms. “I know exactly what you mean, Larissa. But believe it or not, I'm just as nervous as you, so we're all on the same playing field.” I smile, watching her grimace melt into an expression of disbelief. Up close, I can see that her warm, brown eyes have bursts of amber in them.
“You are? But...why?”
I indicate for us all to sit and decide to be mostly honest. “Because this is the first time Brad's ever considered datingsomeone, let alone seriously enough to warrant introducing her to our daughter. It's a big deal, and if you and I didn't get along, it would throw a huge spanner in the works. And probably put a big strain on my co-parenting...friendship with Brad, too.”
“No pressure,” she mumbles to her lap.
Brad and I share a smile because, damnit, she's adorable, “Rest assured, Larissa, so far, so good.”
She perks up at that and the atmosphere is light as we order and wait for our food. Clinking cutlery and the low buzz of conversations happening around us provide our backing track.
“So, you're a primary teacher? The kids must adore you. Which year are you teaching at the moment?”
“Oh, I have the tiniest this year! Reception. They're honestly the cutest little things. It can be hectic trying to keep their attention for too long, but their sweet innocence makes up for it,” she gushes.
“I’ll bet! Are they your favourite year to teach?”
I can see Brad smiling softly next to her. He's obviously so smitten, it's both adorable and sickening.
“I do love them, but my favourite is Year 3. They're just at that age where they're interested in learning, are mostly past having tantrums, and aren't quite old enough for preteen hormones to kick in yet. The Goldilocks age,” she grins.
“That does sound like a good age,” I laugh. “How long have you been teaching?”
“This is my fifth year now, I started straight after uni, since it was always my plan to be a teacher.”
“I guess that makes you twenty-six? Twenty-seven?”
“Riss turned twenty-seven in August, clearly I have a thing for older women,” Brad jokes, wagging his eyebrows. They both chuckle, but I can only offer a half-hearted smile because two years age gap isn't quite the same as eighteen, is it.
Brad's brow furrows when he sees I'm not laughing, but we're interrupted by Rosie setting down our food before he can say anything.
As I take the first bite of my brunch, I nearly moan around the fork. The creamy avocado, the crunch of the sourdough toast, all cut through with the bite of chilli?Divine.
“Brad told me you're originally from Malaysia, whereabouts, though?”
“I am, indeed. Born and raised in a suburb of the capital, Kuala Lumpur. If you're wondering about the lack of accent,” because that's almost always the first thing people ask, “it's because I went to a British international school.”
“Do you speak Malay? That is the national language, isn't it?”
Laughing, I shake my head self-deprecatingly. “Unfortunately, my Malay is shockingly poor. I was pretty fluent until about the age of eight, but honestly, no one speaks Malay to me, so I forgot most of it.”
“Oh, wow, when did you actually move here then?” Larissa asks, wide-eyed. She looks so genuinely invested in my answers, it's frustratingly endearing.
“Uni. I came over at eighteen to do my degree and then the plan was always to move home, or somewhere else abroad. I hadn't intended on staying in the U.K. But best laid plans and all that…” I trail off with a small smile.
“And how come you stayed? I hope you don't mind me asking so many questions!” her eyes flick back to Brad as if she's worried either of us will be annoyed with her.
“I don't mind at all, Larissa,” I reach across the table and gently squeeze her forearm. “Well, tale as old as time is why I stayed. I met a boy in my second year, so I ultimately stayed for him. We were married by the time I was twenty-five and divorced by thirty-eight. But I can't regret any of it,” I shrug. I can feel Brad's attention on my face, but when I look up, he tearshis eyes away. He seems pretty happy for us to dominate the conversation whilst he sits on the sidelines.
“Enough about me, though. Brad tells me you're best mates with Amy and sometimes help out in The HarBar?”
Just as Larissa is about to reply, we're interrupted by a sound I'd hoped never to hear again. “Oh my god, Brad?” pipes up a familiar voice behind me, like nails down a chalkboard. “I haven't seen you since after our graduation party! Are you living here in Bristol now?”
I don't have to turn to know it's one of the Barbie Bitch Brigade – when I spin in my chair I see I was right, and that it's none other than queen bee herself, Keeley.
Her eyes flick down to me, and she does a double take. “You're not seriously still with the OAP, are you?”
