She sounds so unlike her cool, capable, high-achieving self, I’m pleased we didn’t force them to argue this out earlier.
I try to sound as soothing as I can. ‘If it’s ever a problem, I’ll let you know. I’m just really,reallygrateful to be staying here at all.’ Instead of telling her how obsessive Miles is with the anti-bac spray on the surfaces, I keep it simple. ‘You and Tate need to forget about this. Find some delicious cheesecake to share for lunch and have a glorious day.’
She gives a sigh. ‘Tate’s already left for the office. I’m going to see an exhibition.’
I’m on this. ‘At the Andy Warhol Museum?’
At least that made her laugh. ‘That’s in Pittsburgh. I’m going to see some Gustav Klimt landscapes. But I’ll find some cheesecake. And well done on those pieces.’
Then she ends the call, and I’m back searching for my muffin. Three bags later, I find it in with the flowers, and it’s almost the size of a football. I tease off the paper case, open my mouth wide, and I’m about to sink my teeth in when someone calls.
‘Betty Beth! At last! I thought I was never going to find you.’
‘Miles!’ My tummy clenches. I take a huge bite of my muffin while I still can, then mumble, ‘Why are you here?’
His mouth twists into a smile that’s even more sardonic than usual. ‘There’s no need to askyouthat. If you’ve been buying for a candle-lit dinner with floral decorations and a choice of new outfits, count me in. What’s with the giant folding screen?’ He knocks on it as if it were a door. ‘Is this yours?’
I roll my eyes. ‘No, it just snuck up on me while I was looking the other way.’ I take in his wide-eyed look, and give in. ‘Of course it’s mine. It’s for privacy in the sofa area.’ It’s not just that. I’m actually planning to drape my clothes over it to save me packing things into bags every night.
He’s peering into the bags. ‘Cushions too!’
I’m as shocked as he is that I bought those. ‘Two weeks of Scarlett’s empty spaces and I’m desperate for comfort and embellishments.’ That’s the only way I can rationalise it to myself.
He gives a cough. ‘This weekend is when we change over. It’s your turn to take the bedroom.’
‘Actually…’ I can’t believe what I’m leading up to here. But when I wake in the morning Pumpkin’s muzzle is already misting the glass of the living room French windows, as he waits to say hello. In the evening, I can lounge and watch him silhouetted against the smoky purple of the sky, as the sun slides down behind the sea. When the moon comes out, I sometimes wake and catch him standing quietly in the half-light. However comfy the bed might be, I’m simply not ready to move to the opposite end of the building and give all that up. I send Miles a smile. ‘I’m fine to leave things as they are– for now, anyway.’
Miles tilts his head. ‘Any time you change your mind, just shout. In the meantime, hide those cushions from Scarlett and Tate.’ His expression turns serious, and he bangs his head with his fist. ‘That’s what I came to tell you. Tate called, they’ve had the convo, and Scarlett was… pretty cross.’
‘She rang me, too.’ I narrow my eyes. ‘I’d say she’s apoplectic. For the record, if we’d told them that first day, IknowPumpkin and I would have been the ones who got to stay.’
Miles frowns. ‘If we’d done that the first day, Scarlett may have come straight back. At least we saved them from that.’
It’s typical of Miles to breeze in and take the credit for averting the disaster he caused in the first place.
‘Honestly, Miles, that would never have happened. They’re the most solid couple I know.’
He gives a shrug. ‘Every relationship has rocky times.’
I’ve no idea how the hell we’ve got here, but I’m leaping in to defend them. ‘They don’t. I’m Scarlett’s sister, I should know.’
‘If you’re the expert, I’ll take your word on that.’ He gives my arm a squeeze. ‘It hasn’t been so bad sharing. I found out about fairies and pony droppings.’
My voice is high with indignation. ‘Youwouldsay that, you grabbed all the good bits for yourself. As for your music– I mean, Greig’s Rigaudon from his Holberg suite? At breakfast?’
He looks surprised. ‘That’s a bit harsh.’
I put my nose in the air. ‘Harsh maybe, but also true.’
He blows out his cheeks, then turns to me with his smile turned on full. ‘By way of a thank you for letting me keep the bedroom, and as an apology formaybetaking more than my share of time on the sun lounger– how about I cook that dinner to go with your candles later?’
I’m looking down at the petrol blue wax, and however much that look of his is making my resolve give way, I’m determined not to be bought. ‘Those candles are way too pretty to burn.’
He shakes his head. ‘The candle shop is only there. I’ll buy some more.’
I drag in a breath. ‘There’s a hundred other reasons I can’t.’
It’s one thing me getting all home-centred and cosy, but that doesn’t extend to other areas of my life. I had a moment of holiday-type madness back there, not a personality transplant. When I’ve given up on guys for the sake of my wellbeing, I’m not about to dabble in meals for two, however great the dine-in deal is. More importantly, actual proper dinner parties for people who get their kicks from formality and pretension simply don’t figure in my universe. People bigging up their aspirations, then parading them around a table is everything I despise. I’d actually rather eat my own head than go to one.
