‘For fuck’s sake, Mo,’ the toff grumbles. ‘Can you just behave yourself for five minutes?’
‘Come on, William. You already know the answer to that.’
But at least we’re all moving towards the front door, Jim bringing up the rear as I pause to allow the others over the threshold.
‘Lord, lead me not into temptation,’ Mo trills as he steps inside. ‘Who am I kidding? I’m following a Scotsman!’
Once inside, I make coffee, or rather Isobel and I do so jointly. I don’t miss the way the three men in the living room watch on, crouched on the sofa like three wise monkeys.
We don’t need to haveseenyou shag.
We don’t need to haveheardyou shag.
We don’t need tospeakabout the shagging you’ve done these past few days.
Because we know you’ve done it anyway.
I can see clear as day that they know. It might be in the way she touches my arm, or how her body touches mine as she leans across me to grab a spoon. It could be in the little touches or the way her eyes sparkle when she looks up at me. And these are a worry all of their own—she thinks she’s talked me ’round, and I’ve yet to put her straight. Or it could be that, as blokes, they can scent sex in the air like fucking truffle hounds.
It could be any one of those things.
Or it could be because of the way they disturbed us almost fucking at the front door.
Cock-blocking bastards.
‘So you left that garbled message.’ Mo uses his free hand to articulate his point as he talks. With his other, he accepts a coffee cup Isobel passes to him. ‘I’d been to Roan’s that evening, but when I’d sobered up the next morning, you know how it is, sweets.’ He slides her an apologetic smile. ‘Well, I started to worry.’
‘What weird message? I didn’t send you any such thing,’ she says, passing Will his coffee next. I give Jim his while ignoring the way he’s staring at me admiringly, like I’m the mutt’s fucking nuts. While the other two are being polite about what they saw, Jim looks a bit fucking rabid.
My own cup in hand, I carry in a dining chair, intending to go back again for another for Isobel when she sits on the arm of the thing. So I sit, though I make sure not to touch her at all.Neither confirm nor deny.
‘It was a voicemail,’ Mo says, pulling out his phone. Isobel’s tinny sounding voice immediately fills the room.
Mo, you devil, what have you done? I didn’t think for one minute yoursurprise packagewould be a dick! An escort, for goodness’ sakes—
‘Oh my God!’ Isobel starts to laugh as I frown.
What were you thinking? I know you love hearing how Will and Sadie fell in love while he was pretending to be an escort, but you seem to forget that Will was only pretending!
My gaze slides to Will’s who glances over the rim of his coffee cup with an air of long suffering. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘It is my absolute favourite story,’ Mo adds.
‘Stop! Please, turn it off.’ Isobel suddenly squeals, her eyes the size of dinner plates before she buries her face in her hands. ‘How mortifying.’
I’m sure had Will really slept with women for money, Sadie wouldn’t have been so keen on marrying him, let alone shagging him! And yes, I know before you even say it, he could’ve made a fortune in that line of work because the man attracts more arse than a toilet seat—’
‘I’m a reformed character these days,’ the man himself says.
‘I can’t believe you did this to me!’
‘I can confirm that Mo didn’t pay me to shag her,’ I find myself saying. ‘What I mean to say is, Isobel and I already established early on in her stay that I wasn’t—’
Ah, Mo. It’s me again.
For the second time, Isobel’s voice recording resonates in the small living room.
It really is a nice package, from what I can tell, so thank you.
