Page 66

‘This one?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Fiona, is that really necessary right now?’ Stephen’s frown was almost a mirror image of hers. ‘We need to get going.’

‘Is it necessary to check that we haven’t sent him off to university with part of my mother’s Anna Weatherley dinner set? Yes. What colour were the plates he gave you?’ She directed her question back to Joseph, while freeing the zip from whatever it had caught on.

‘Yellow maybe? Or blue?’

‘Fiona, please. I didn’t give him your mother’s china.’

‘I thought you said you couldn’t remember what it looked like?’

‘I know what your mother’s Anna Weatherley looks like. And it hasn’t come out of the cupboard in over a year.’

The condescending edge to his tone rankled with her.

‘We used it the last time Kat and Paul came over for dinner,’ she corrected him.

‘Which was over a year ago.’

Stephen fixed his eyes on hers. She raced through her memory, trying to recall the date. It was so frustrating when he did this, pushed a point so far, especially when he was almost certainly wrong. And now she had to come across as the pedantic one.

‘No,’ she pointed a finger at him, with the smug satisfaction that came with always being right. ‘Your birthday. Eight months ago. We always use it on our birthdays.’

‘Not last year,’ Stephen replied, his face impassive. ‘I had to head to Swansea and you had a conference to set up, remember?’

‘And I ordered Chinese and you got pissed off at all the mess I left,’ Joseph added, obviously feeling the need to join in.

The memory clicked into her mind. ‘Of course, you did.’

How could she have forgotten? She’d arrived back home – after eighteen hours out of the house – feet throbbing, head pounding and desperate for a glass of wine. What she’d found in her exhausted state was an entire worktop covered in congealing patches of sweet-and-sour sauce, with fried rice strewn everywhere and a general smell of grease in the air. By the time she’d cleaned up and taken a shower to remove the stench of soy sauce and general grime of the day, it had been nearly three in the morning.

‘And now someone else will have to deal with your mess.’ She grinned.

‘So, definitely no Anna Weatherley involved then,’ Stephen said, the smallest of smirks playing on his lips. ‘Now, wehaveto get going. I do have a job to get to you know.’

‘If you’d rather I took him?’

‘No, it’s fine. I already said it’s fine. I’ve got something I need to sort out, anyway.’

The clock in the hall ticked loudly, as if to remind them that time was passing. With a long sigh, she pouted, rubbed her temples, then smiled. ‘I guess it’s a good job we’re going away next week.’ She placed her hand on her husband’s arm. ‘We probably both need the break.’

After seeing her smile fleetingly reciprocated by her husband, she turned back to Joseph. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’s Belgium. Chocolate and a spa hotel. It wouldn’t be too late to get you a room.’

‘And miss Fresher’s Week?’ he raised his eyebrows. ‘No chance. It’s fine. Just bring back a load of chocolate for when I come home with my washing.’

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

‘If you think I’m still doing that, you’ve got me confused with someone else’s mother.’

Joseph laughed and looped an arm around her shoulders.

‘How did you grow up so fast?’ she asked, causing him to laugh again. He had such a sweet laugh, the same as he’d had as a child, only deeper. It felt like only a week ago they’d been on holiday in the Seychelles, digging giant holes in the sand for him to bury himself in. And now he was towering over her, making her feel both incredibly small and incredibly old at the same time.

‘Right, that’s enough sentimentality for one day.’ She blinked herself out of the moment. ‘You’ll miss your train, and your dad and I have got work.’

‘I’ll check the plates when I get there,’ he said, his arm still around her. ‘I’ll bring anything I shouldn’t have back with me next time I’m home.’