Page 73

He reached over for another squeeze. “Fair enough, love.”

I smiled, my cheeks heating with pleasure. That was the first time he’d called me a pet name and it made me all gooey inside.

I directed him the last bit of the journey and we arrived in my parents’ driveway, parking and killing the engine.

“Right,” I said, turning to face him. “I’d like you to verbally sign a small disclaimer before we go in there. No dumping me because my parents say something batshit like internet banking is too dangerous to use but posting a crapload of personal info on Facebook is perfectly safe.”

He gave me a reassuring smile. “You have my word.”

I let out a sigh. “Okay. Let battle commence.”

Kerr chuckled as we got out of the car, and then he waited for me to come around the car and took my hand before we approached the front door. I pressed the doorbell, shifting from one foot to the other in anticipation. He responded with a reassuring squeeze of my hand.

Dad opened it, ushering us in. “Hello, hello! Welcome to our humble abode.”

I rolled my eyes affectionately, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Hi, Dad. This is Kerr.”

Dad reached out to shake Kerr’s hand as we came through the doorway. “Great to meet you.”

“And you, Mr. Ansari.”

He waved a hand. “Please, call me Imran.”

Kerr nodded, smiling at my dad. “Thank you for having me, Imran.”

We took off our jackets and shoes, Dad placing them on the old bit of carpet he had installed in the hallway to put shoes on, which drove my mother absolutely mental because the carpet didn’t match the aesthetic of the parquet floor. It’s to protect the flooring from scuff marks and dirt, Kirsty, Dad would always say.

He led us down the hallway into the kitchen, where Mum was bustling around. “Look who I found on the doorstep,” Dad said, then laughed heartily at his own joke.

Mum turned, taking in Kerr and wiping her hands on her apron, the stressed look melting off her face to be replaced by a simpering smile. “Hello, you must be Kerr.”

Oh my God, why was she putting on her telephone voice?

She held out a hand in a limp manner that clearly indicated she expected him to kiss it, not shake it. Taking it in his stride, Kerr stepped forward to lift her hand and press a quick kiss to the back of it. “Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Ansari. And thank you for inviting me.”

She let out a high-​pitched giggle that made me want to remove my eardrums with a fork. “Oh, you are so well-​mannered. Please, call me Kirsty. And it is a delight to have you.”

It is a delight to have you? Since when did Mum speak like she was in a historical novel?

“Baji!”

I turned to see Aisha come through the doorway from the dining room, which connected the kitchen to the living room. She held a glass of red wine in one hand as she slung the other arm around my shoulders for a hug.

“Hey, Munni,” I said, pulling back to study her face. I was pleased to see that she no longer had a hint of gray under her eyes and that her cheeks were back to their usual tawny blush. “How’re you feeling? You look great.”

“All good, thanks,” Aisha said, turning to Kerr and ignoring his outstretched hand in favor of a hug. He obliged, shooting me an amused smile over my sister’s shoulder.

“Seb!” Aisha yelled as she pulled away from Kerr, practically into the poor guy’s ear. “They’re here!”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, followed by Seb’s voice. “Coming, pickle!”

He appeared on the landing, striding in to immediately grasp Kerr’s hand with a hearty shake. “Great to see you again!” He turned to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “And you, dear sis-in-law.”

“Imran,” Mum said, still using her phone voice. “You must offer our guest a drink. Show him through to the living area.”

Dad bustled around, fetching Kerr a glass of red wine after I insisted that he let me drive home. I was about to follow him, Dad, and the others into the living area when Mum grasped my arm. “No, you stay here, Nisa.” No telephone voice for me, then. She paused to place her palms on either side of my face, anxiety briefly flashing over her expression as she studied me. “Are you feeling okay, after the fire?”

My heart softened. “Yes, Mum.”