“What?”
“You went from flirty to mama bear in a nanosecond, and I have to say—” She leaned a little to her right, as close to Rosa as she dared. “It was a little bit sexy.”
Rosa rolled her eyes, but a smile crept across her face anyway. “You’d better get going.”
“I will. And I’ll call you tonight?”
“After ten. And not for long. I need to be up early tomorrow for work.”
“Okay. You better go in before she starts nosing out of the window, and just so you know, in my head I’m kissing you goodbye.”
“You’re an idiot.” Rosa laughed and walked away.
“Maybe, but I think you kind of like it.” Billy stood there for a moment, biting her lip to stop herself from saying anything more that would feel too much, too soon, too loud.
When Rosa reached the door, she turned back and gave a small wave.
“We have no food,” Imogen complained, dumping her case in the middle of the kitchen and peering into the open fridge.
Rosa raised an eyebrow. “That would be because we’ve been at your grandma’s and now, I need to go shopping.”
“Can’t we just order pizza?”
“If that’s what you want to spend your birthday money on, then go ahead. I, on the other hand, have bills to pay and won’t be wasting money on a takeaway.” She closed the fridge door and looked at Imogen. “I can pick up a couple of pizzas and bring them home to cook.”
Imogen’s shoulders slumped as she let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s not the same.”
“Hm, well, the number is in the drawer, along with the menu should you wish for something more appealing.”
There was a knock at the door and the sound of Tanya calling through, “Cooee, it’s just me.” Something smelt nice as the aroma wafted in. “I thought you might be a bit tired and not in the mood for cooking, so batch-cooked you one of these.”
Entering the kitchen, Tanya carried a large glass oven dish, covered with tinfoil in one hand, and a carrier bag in the other.
“I’m starving.” Imogen grinned, staring at the food.
“It’s just a pasta and bolognese mishmash, but hopefully it will do.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Rosa smiled at her friend and took the offering. It was still warm. She turned to Imogen. “It’s Italian, has tomato sauce… Use your imagination.”
“Thanks, Tan,” Imogen said, taking it from Rosa. She ripped the corner open, delved into the drawer for a spoon, found a bowl in the cupboard, and began to fill it.
“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, by the way.” She held out the carrier bag.
Imogen grinned. “Thanks for the present.”
Tanya smiled and handed the carrier bag to Rosa instead. “Did you all have a good time?”
With her bowl full, Imogen turned. “We had a blast…so much snow and skiing.” She looked at Rosa for permission to eat upstairs.
“Go on,” she handed her the bag, “but make sure you bring the bowl down when you’re finished.” When Imogen smirked at her as she skipped past, she added, “I mean it.”
“Yes, Mum.” Imogen laughed as she took the stairs two at a time.
Rosa turned to find Tanya looking at her, concern written all over her face. “And how was it for you?”
“Cup of tea?” She pulled the pint of milk from the bag.
“Oh, that bad…” Tanya laughed.
