Chapter 5
A strange thing has happened to Joe. From the minute we step off school grounds he seems to visibly relax. Which is surprising, considering how much he clearly loves the attention. His face has softened and a broad, engaging smile comes often and easily. He’s adorable with Sid and he tells some truly terrible dad jokes to the kids. He’s already told three that have made the kids laugh and he’s now going for a fourth.
‘What does a ghost call his true love?’ he calls out as we walk.
Lila and Sid bob along by Joe’s side, giddy in anticipation.
‘His ghoul-friend.’ Joe beams to a cacophony of snorts.
‘Auntie Poppy wants Mummy to be someone’s ghoul-friend. She went on a date last night,’ Lila announces.
‘Lila! We don’t need to share that with the group,’ I say, mortified, as Joe catches my eye. ‘My sister sent me on a blind date. It was awful,’ I add as explanation.
‘Auntie Poppy thinks Mummy should find her great love,’ Lila ploughs on while my toes curl in embarrassment. Just how much has Poppy said to Lila? ‘But Mummy doesn’t want one.’
‘Auntie Poppy just hasn’t realised that my great love is Benedict Cumberbatch,’ I quip.
‘I consider myself quite the Cumberbitch, too,’ Joe replies, and I grin in spite of myself.
‘Please, I spotted him first.’
Joe’s left eyebrow hitches up. ‘Did you now?’
‘Big Sherlock fan.’
‘I actually saw him on stage way before he got into mainstream TV.’
‘Are you calling me mainstream, Joe?’ I ask, my lip curling the tiniest bit. ‘Because we can’t all gad about going to the theatre all the time. Some of us have jobs to do.’
‘It appears I’ve hit a nerve. Shall we agree that we’re both big fans of BC?’ Joe suggests.
‘Fine,’ I huff as he leads the way into an American-style diner I haven’t heard of, where staff deliver food on roller skates.
‘Nice find,’ I concede, ordering a glass of white wine because I’ve reached the why not stage of the evening. Our drinks arrive on wheels and the kids slurp giant juices.
‘It’s cool, isn’t it?’ Joe positively beams and, not for the first time, I wonder what happened to the brooding lothario at the school gates. ‘Sid’s a hungry monster so I’m constantly scouting out new places to eat with him. Places that are lively for kids and serve decent food for the adults are like gold dust.’
‘But Joe,’ I say, suddenly remembering, ‘what about the gluten?’
‘Are you mocking my intolerances, Sophie? Because that is quite rude, actually.’ When he laughs I find myself strangely pleased to have made it happen. ‘To answer your question, they do gluten-free pizzas.’
The kids are given crayons and pizza-shaped pieces of paper to colour in, and Joe turns to me.
‘Thanks for coming to my rescue. I don’t think I could have handled much more of that bake sale.’
‘What?’ I chuckle. ‘When you were so keen to volunteer?’
‘Only when I thought the other mums wouldn’t be there.’
‘Hang on, let me get this straight, you don’t like the other parents? Because you sure do seem to.’
He pulls a face. ‘They can be a bit much sometimes.’
‘Well, I’d love to know your secret. Everyone seems to love you. Didn’t Celeste say something about cooking for you?’
Joe grimaces. ‘I get casseroles.’
‘Wow. Life is so different for single mums. No one outside my family has offered to cook me anything! I bet you get high-fives just for looking after your kid, right? I see it all the time. People actively praise fathers for literally just being there for their children, like, “oh wow, look at that lovely dad taking his child to the park!” Whereas mums get judged. You should see the looks I get if I dare to pull out my phone at the playground.’
Joe clears his throat. ‘I think it’s a compassion thing. My wife died.’
‘Oh. Shit,’ I blurt, dropping my menu. ‘I’m so sorry, Joe. I had no idea … Shit. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It’s been over four years now. Sid was only a baby,’ he explains. My eyes track over to Joe’s son, my heart breaking for him. Lila only has one parent too, but her father and I decided that it would be better that way. Sidney’s mum didn’t get a choice. I realise that their stories are so similar and yet almost incomparable at the same time.
‘I’m not trying to shrug it off,’ Joe continues. ‘Of course it’s awful and sad but Sidney is so much more than the boy without a mum and I have spent far too long being the guy with the dead wife. I can see you wincing as I say that. I don’t mean to sound brutal. I’m so tired of the tea and sympathy aspect of it, that’s all.’
I let his words settle in. ‘I can understand that, I think. It’s a totally different set of circumstances but I find it annoying enough being labelled as the divorced mum.’
‘We’re so much more than that one part of ourselves,’ he says, nodding. ‘Sorry to hear about the divorce.’
‘Thanks. It’s a crap thing to go through but I came out the other side of it a long time ago.’
‘You’re dating again, that’s a good sign, right?’
‘Oh,’ I laugh, ‘god no! I’m only doing that to shut my sister up. She’s convinced I need to date and …’
‘Benedict Cumberbatch hasn’t swept you off your feet yet?’
‘Exactly,’ I say, smiling. ‘Selfish bastard. No, it’s more that I just do not want to date. I have a very busy, very fulfilled life as it is. So even if Benedict did rock up and confess his undying love, it would be a no from me. I decided a long time ago that I’m not getting myself attached to anyone.’
‘That’s a very firm stance.’
‘I’m quite a firm person.’ I grin. ‘So when are you going to tell the yummy mummies you’re over casseroles?’
‘I’m too chicken. They keep asking me to join the parent volunteer group,’ he says. ‘Celeste would eat me alive.’
Lightbulb moment! I mean when it happens, it really happens – a quite fantastic idea literally pops into my head out of nowhere.
I find myself reaching over to grab Joe’s hand in my enthusiasm. ‘Now that is a great idea. Being part of the parent group would be the perfect chance for me to fit in. Do you think they’d take me too? Oh my god, Joe, we should sign up together. I mean, admittedly I was hoping for something simpler, like a group coffee after drop-off, but actually this would be ideal. We could make time for it, right? Although what do we do about the kids while we’re in the meetings?’
‘What’s all this “we” chat?’ Joe narrows his eyes, casting a suspicious yet amused look at my hand, which is still on his. I immediately pull it away.
‘Don’t be annoying, Joe. They want you and I’d just be the by-product.’
‘Hold up, we’ve only just met. Just because you’re sat there in your business suit doesn’t mean you get to call all the shots. This isn’t The Apprentice.’
I suppress a snicker and pull my most persuasive face. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to be pushy.’
‘You’ve got high-achiever written all over you. Look, there are two big problems with joining this group. One: I don’t want to. Two: as you’ve already pointed out, who looks after the kids? We’re single parents. What will Sid and Lila do when we’re swigging back supermarket wine and gabbing about hot school goss with our new gal pals?’ Joe tosses his hair back in a brilliant impression of Celeste and I can’t help but laugh.
By now the kids have clattered off to a mini play area in one corner of the diner.
My phone pings with a push notification.
Welcome toDate My Sibling! Congratulations, you’ve been signed up by your sibling to join our exclusive dating app. Click through to see your new profile and get looking for love!
‘What the …?’ I mumble.
‘You okay?’ Joe asks as I scroll through my new profile.
‘In a word, no. My sister has signed me up to some dating app. Oh GOD. It says I like “the smell of summer rain on freshly cut grass” and “Netflix and swill”. What the fuck is Netflix and swill? Hang on, my fake profile has an explanation. “I like to think I invented Netflix and swill, it means chilling in front of a good programme with a great glass of Malbec.”’
‘Netflix and swill sounds like it could be a kinky sex thing.’
‘Oh god, you’re right.’ I cringe. ‘Stop laughing, this is not funny.’
I scowl across the table at him. He straightens up his quite smug face and brushes his dark hair away from his eyes, trying to look contrite.
I try to delete all trace of Date My Sibling but it’s not an easy app to navigate. I vaguely register the fact that Joe’s started talking but it’s background noise. He’s … clapping his hands. What a douche. I continue to ignore him and scramble to find the log-out option. Can I just delete the whole thing in settings? Pretty sure Joe just called himself a genius. Why’s he being so distracting? Hang on, here! Is this where I delete my profile? Joe’s started waving at me to get my attention. Exasperated, I shoot him a fleeting look.
‘What is it?’
‘Wow, you’re rude when you’re busy.’
‘I’ve just been set up on a dating app against my will with a very creepy sounding profile, Joe. And now a man called Kenny, who describes himself as a “die-hard Hufflepuff”, has expressed an interest. His likes include writing Twilight fan fiction so, you know, now’s not a great time!’ How did Poppy even manage to install the app on my phone? If she unlocked my phone while I was asleep last night I will be exceptionally cross.
‘Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.’ Joe grins.
‘I’m kind of in a bind here,’ I mutter.
‘I think I can help,’ Joe says, hands up like he’s trying to tame a wild beast. ‘Could you put your phone down for just one minute?’
‘Can you delete my profile?’ I show Joe my phone and he gingerly eases it out of my hands.
‘I can do better than that.’
It’s at this point that I notice Joe looks like he’s just won the lottery.
‘Go on,’ I say, distracted by the fact that my phone is still pinging with app notifications.
‘We should fake a relationship,’ he says.
‘Okay, hand my phone back, you’re clearly a mad man.’
‘Just … wait,’ he soothes. ‘Will you give me a couple of minutes to explain my brilliant plan?’
‘The last person who told me they had a “brilliant plan” set me up on this bloody app, so no.’
‘Exactly! My new plan can help with that.’
I’m ever so slightly intrigued. ‘You have one minute and then I’m going to need my phone back and possibly a plane ticket out of here.’
His smile broadens as he steeples his fingers together.
‘Sophie, it strikes me that you and I are in a similar boat. You don’t want to be set up on any more dates by your sister and I’ve had enough of being mothered by the flirts at school. The other week Olivia made Sid a fish pie with “hidden vegetables” in it. I knew Sid wouldn’t touch it because he’s a fussy little bugger so I ate it myself. Spent the next twenty-four hours bent over the loo puking my guts up. I can’t risk another bout of food poisoning, Sophie, I just can’t.’
I pull a face.
‘That does sound bad,’ I concede. ‘But these women are trying to look out for you.’
‘They’re not! They’re using the food gifts as leverage for friendship and whatever else it is they like to have me around for. If I had a girlfriend this wouldn’t happen.’
‘What, because your girlfriend would be cooking for you instead? Jesus, Joe, welcome to the twenty-first century.’
Joe tuts. ‘That is absolutely not what I meant and may I suggest that you stop jumping to terrible conclusions about me? You seem to have made up your mind about me already and not in a good way.’
I shrug. He’s not wrong there.
Joe holds my gaze.
Eventually I say: ‘Surely the meals are their way of showing kindness after you’ve been through such a tough time? I mean, I’d love a free dinner, pal. All I’m hearing from you is a lot of moaning.’
‘Christ, say it like it is, why don’t you.’ He laughs. ‘You know what? I am being an ungrateful bastard about all the care packages. I know that the mums mean well but here’s the thing, Sophie, sometimes their kindness makes me physically sick.’
‘Sounds like you’ve got a weak digestive system there, Joe. You should probably get that checked out.’
‘Would you like to hear about my plan now?’ Joe sighs.
‘Quickly please, I’ve issues to resolve.’
‘We pretend to date.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘We fake a relationship. Think about the benefits. If you’re no longer the hot single mum then maybe you won’t be seen as a threat to other parents at school, see? You’ll be in the mum circle in no time.’
I want to linger over the ‘hot single mum’ comment and Joe’s suggestion that’s the reason other parents don’t talk to me (which cannot possibly be right), but Joe’s in full swing.
‘And it will get your sister off your back. No more dating apps. No more swiping right for men who want to Netflix and swill with you.’ He hoots with laughter at this and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘As for me, no more tea and sympathy. Pretending to date you will mean I get the chance to step away from the “poor widowed Joe” thing. It could be a real fresh start for both of us. The chance to move forward in a way that we’re both comfortable with. No butting in from busybodies who think they know us better than we know ourselves.’
‘That’s … that’s a ridiculous idea,’ I say, struggling to find the words. ‘Faking a relationship, Joe? Who does that? Reality TV stars who need to keep their names in the limelight with a magazine deal and a fauxmance, that’s who! Not normal people. Not parents in their thirties with normal lives and jobs and … I don’t know … pot plants.’
‘What do pot plants have to do with this?’
‘It’s the analogy, Joe! I am a pot plant! Normal people don’t fake relationships, that’s what I’m saying.’
‘Okay, I hear you. It is a bit unusual, I admit. But,’ he leans in, ‘just think of the advantages.’
I consider the school mums. They’re a unique bunch but still, I want to belong for Lila’s sake. If I was in their club I know Lila would have a more active social life outside school. I hate to think of her missing out because I’m not making enough of an effort. Suddenly a bubble of hope is forming deep in my stomach. The prospect of an alternative year stretches out before my eyes. One where I won’t be pestered about who I’m dating by Poppy or feel like a failure at the school gates.
I look at Joe. Sure, he’s extremely annoying. But maybe not entirely bad?
And is this actually a decent workaround for both of us?
‘Joe,’ I say. ‘Either you are an evil genius or completely bonkers.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you saying you’re in?’
‘What’s your last name?’
‘Kitson.’
‘Joe Kitson,’ I repeat, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. ‘Sophie Rogers. It will be my pleasure to fake-date you. However, there is one condition.’
He raises an eyebrow.
‘We join the parent volunteer group together.’
He sighs. ‘But I want to get as far away from the mums as physically possible.’
‘It’s perfect, don’t you see? We can show them that we’re “together” and I bet they’ll back off once they think we’re an item. Plus it will give me a great in with the group.’
Joe looks like he’s wavering.
‘Look, I’m doing this for my daughter. It’s the most direct way to get in with parents and I promise to be your bodyguard if the flirting flares up,’ I add.
‘Pinky promise?’ He says this so earnestly that I try very hard not to giggle.
I hold my little finger up. ‘I solemnly swear it, Joe.’
‘All right,’ he grants, locking fingers. ‘Let’s do this.’