‘But this isn’t your home. Isn’t the woman who owns it going to want it back?’
‘Yes – but by then I’ll be rich – did you see how many Instagram followers I’ve got now?’
‘That’s notyou. It’s a brand.’
I flop back on the sofa. Why is he being so negative? I am honestly so fed up with all these naysayers. Why can’t they just have some faith in me?
Keith gets up and brushes invisible bits off his trousers. ‘We love you Erica, but Christ alive, you don’t make it easy.’ He heads for the door. ‘I have to go now. Stephen and I have tickets for the Old Vic. I would have asked you to join us, but it’s probably too middle-aged for you.’
‘I have plans, thanks.’ I don’t. Yet.
‘With the children in the lift?’ he says, shaking his head.
And then he’s gone.
