“Yes,” Geoff says instantly.
His mum’s smile softens. “Good.”
Then, inevitably, she adds, “I’m not saying things can’t change.”
Geoff closes his eyes. “Mum.”
“I’m just saying,” she continues breezily, “life is long. People surprise themselves. Stranger things have happened.”
I snort before I can stop myself.
Her gaze snaps to me, delighted. “See? She laughs. That’s promising.”
Geoff groans. “Please don’t analyse us like a romcom.”
“Oh, darling,” his mum says warmly. “I absolutely will.”
She leans closer to the screen, voice dropping into something gentler. “But, however it turns out, I’m very glad you’ve found each other. In whatever way this is.”
That lands. Quietly. Solidly.
Geoff nods. “Me too.”
His mum beams. “Good. Then I’m happy.”
She pauses, then brightens again. “Now. When can I visit?”
21
Nice doesn’t make the Bed shake
Geoff
Sophia is lining upa dart like she means business and I am standing there pretending I haven’t just spent ten full minutes explaining to my mother why turning up unannounced before the baby arrives would, in fact, be unhelpful and possibly grounds for witness protection.
“I’m just saying,” Mum had said brightly, “I could help.”
“With what,” I’d asked.
“Everything.”
That’s not an answer.
Now, in a pub that smells faintly of beer mats and ambition, I try to re-enter the present. Sophia throws. The dart lands nowhere near the bullseye but she pumps her fist like she’s won an Olympic medal. “Yes,” she says. “Nailed it.”
I laugh despite myself. “That was… generous scoring.”
“Confidence-based darts,” she replies. “Very modern.”
This is the thing. She is fun. Easy. I like her. I am not forcing this.
We’re on our third date, which apparently involves games, laughter, and me trying to work out at what point it becomes socially acceptable to mention that I am co-parenting a not-yet-born human with the woman I live with.
Not today, I decide again. Third date feels early. First date was pub. Second date was dinner. Third date is darts. This is still light. Still exploratory. Still firmly in the before-we-unpack-anything-heavy phase.
Sophia steps aside and gestures grandly. “Your go.”
I take the dart, squint at the board, and immediately miss in a way that suggests I have never seen darts before in my life.
