‘True. You’d be blissfully wedded,’ Carys quips. Her handsknead at David in a way that, were he a real live animal, I’d be concerned for his health.
‘What’s worrying you? Pat the Vet seems like he’s a sound lad.’
It takes her a minute to speak. ‘Just thinking about the person fitting into your life, which feels like a bizarre thing to consider for a first date, but I love my job on the city farm. How many other city farms are there in the country? What if the person I like doesn’t live in London? Patrick is in Yorkshire, I think.’
I might be rusty, but I’m not entirely convinced this is actually what she is thinking about. ‘I mean, you could go work on acountryfarm.’
‘They just call those farms,’ she says a little sarcastically, and then claps her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry, that was rude.’
I burst out laughing. ‘No, please! I enjoyed that. A little glimpse of bitchy Carys.’
She groans. ‘My evil side. You can’t really be rude on the farm, so I have to lock her away in the attic of my mind.’
‘Careful, Jane Eyre. She might burn the house down.’
‘It was Rochester who locked her away,’ Carys corrects me with the teacherly manner of a librarian who can’t resist a fact-check.
I shrug. ‘I’ve never been particularly interested in the men in those stories.’
Not that I’ve had much time for reading either, butJane Eyrewas my GCSE English set text and burned into my mind. She should have just gone upstairs, freed Bertha, and they could have run off together. That would have been a way better book. ‘So you’re worrying about how he will fit into your life?’
‘Or me into his. I don’t know. I think I’m too deep in my head.’ She looks up at me. ‘You said Warren was the only good one today. What was so bad about the others?’
‘Well, for a start, Warren didn’t ask leading questions about my weight.’
‘No!’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that why some guy asked me how many times a day I went to the gym? I just thought he’d got a good deal.’ She shivers with disgust and flips open her notebook to a page that hasDANIELwritten on it, with a gigantic X underneath.
‘Ha, snap.’ I show her my own expletive-filled summary.
‘Imagine not respecting the sanctity of the experiment,’ she sighs, lying back on her bed covers.
I mirror her, wishing I had something to hold. ‘That’s one way to put it. I don’t know, the other four weren’t all bad. Just not someone I’d take home to my mum.’
She rolls onto her side to face me, David squashed against her cheek. ‘Tell me about her.’
I instinctively glance up at the corner of the room, even though I know there’s no cameras filming us in here (in theory). I wonder how long it’ll take me to lose that particular habit, or the sense I’m being watched at all times – the price I’m paying for possible stability.
Still, I want to trust her, and even though I have the mild horn for her now, Carys could be a good friend. I like the little weirdo.
Just to be safe, I flick off the overhead light, swapping it for the lamp on the bedside table. It feels safer somehow to be low-lit.
‘So, yeah,’ I begin slowly. ‘It’s just been me and her for pretty much my whole life. She was a nurse for a long time, so she’s very good at medical advice – which the whole bloody cul-de-sac knows.’
Carys giggles, and I wonder, sourly, if she’s thinkingabout that in her future life with Patrick, the whole neighbourhood bringing their mangy cats or depressed goldfish to their door.
This is enough to make me wuss out from telling her the whole truth about my mum. ‘What about your family?’
‘Oh well, my mum and dad have been together since they were teenagers.’
‘Wow, congrats to them.’
‘Yeah. It’s impressive.’
‘But, I imagine, a lot of pressure on you to find your person,’ I half ask, half suggest, putting several pieces together at once. ‘Do you have siblings?’
