Chapter 14
‘How romantic is this situation, on a scale of one to ten?’ I ask, helping myself to a handful of Joe’s popcorn. The lights have just dimmed and we’re settling into a good twenty minutes of adverts before the actual film begins.
I turn to look at my date, his face lit up with the glow of the big screen. I’ve noticed that Joe’s got a bright smile and he shares it often. You can’t help but smile back when it’s directed at you.
He mulls over my question, making I’m-thinking-about-it noises.
‘Did somebody TRUMP?’ booms Sidney into the now quiet cinema.
Joe looks at me over the top of his son’s head. ‘I’d say one out of ten?’ he suggests wryly.
‘Ha ha Sidney said trump,’ Lila snorts, her teeth covered in chocolate from the packet of Maltesers she’s already finished. I hand her a wet wipe and kiss her mop of blond curls, then immediately retract because selfishly I do not want her to get chocolate all over the cream broderie anglaise top I decided to wear today. What fool wears off-white on a day out with two kids? I wonder. Perhaps Tally has been rubbing off on me?
‘POOP,’ offers Sidney.
‘STINK!’ Lila bellows.
While the kids exchange a litany of apparently hilarious toilet vernacular, I’m disappointed by the fact that the fake date for two we’d initially planned became a family trip for four – but life has been so busy lately, it felt impossible to avoid. It’s been weeks since we wine and cheesed at the PTA and now, with April on the horizon, Joe and I decided we had to squeeze another date in somehow. We’ve both been working our asses off and with the Barnaby’s Babes night out and Tally’s birthday weekend on the horizon, neither of us wanted to ask our family to babysit again.
So here we are. On a date with Lila and Sid.
‘So much for the sexy romcom I’d been hoping for,’ Joe laments across the top of our kids’ heads.
‘I thought we were planning a horror?’
‘You’re still in dire need of love lessons, Sophie. You called me bro at the school gates the other day.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘How about babe?’
I scoff.
Joe gives me a stern look.
‘Come on!’ I protest. ‘We’re doing brilliantly already. I think everyone’s bought it by now.’
‘Bought what?’ Sid looks up.
Bugger.
‘Bought … snacks! For the film!’ I suggest.
He nods sagely and I feel like a bit of a swine. The rest of the cinema is still reverberating with laughter after Sidney’s loud announcement re flatulence earlier, which isn’t surprising as we’re watching a U-rated film about a superhero dinosaur, on a Saturday morning in an out-of-town shopping centre, and the room is filled with four-year-olds.
‘How’ve you been?’ asks Joe.
‘Good thanks.’ I nod.
‘No more getting drunk on school nights with colleagues, then?’ he teases.
‘I’ve been practically saintly since,’ I say, pressing my hands together in an angel pose. ‘I’ve been doing a great detox, actually. No booze, a lot of fermented food. Have you tried kefir? It’ll change your life, Joe.’
Joe gives me a look. ‘Sounds pretty shite to me. I find a nice cold beer at the end of a long day is just the ticket.’
‘Well, I feel sorry for your microbiome.’
‘My microbiome thanks you for the concern but would like it to be known that it’s perfectly happy as is.’ He grins, and I find myself chuckling in response.
‘All good with you?’
‘Grand. I’m glad we’re doing this, it’s been a while.’
The movie revolves around a dinosaur who unwittingly finds himself in charge of saving the world. Despite the obvious plot holes it’s actually quite sweet. He falls in love with another prehistoric creature on the same mission. Will they work together or will they become sworn enemies? I’m embarrassingly hooked by the end, laughing at the jokes put in for the adults to enjoy while Sidney and Lila chortle at the slapstick comedy.
‘Is that a tear in your eye?’ Joe looks at me suspiciously as we walk out of the auditorium.
‘Of course not,’ I insist, swiping away at the tell-tale signs. The dinosaurs united! It was heart-warming. Why have I suddenly become a total melt when it comes to anything to do with emotions?
Joe looks dubious. ‘Shall we go get doughnuts?’
I’m about to protest that Lila’s already eaten through her body weight in chocolate this morning so I’d prefer to go for something healthy when I check myself. Maybe I don’t need to be such a complete bore all the time. Sure, her approach to vegetables is a bit like my approach to the laundry pile … reluctant. But she eats most things, she’s happy and she’s healthy.
I close my mouth and the argument dies on my lips.
The kids are sat cross-legged on a café bench, facing each other with a pot of molten chocolate in the middle of them. It’s a recipe for disaster, I know, but they’re so happy. They pick up still-warm churros from a basket on the table, dip them in and then giggle at each other as their faces and fingers become ever-more chocolatey.
I turn to ask Joe if he’s got any tissues left and find that he’s deliberately daubed chocolate all over his face too. I snort with laughter.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asks Lila and Sid, pretending to be confused.
‘You’re all chocolatey,’ they call out, full of glee.
‘Am I? Where?’ He dabs at a corner of his mouth with a napkin, deliberately missing the mess.
‘There!’ They point.
‘Where?’ he asks, dabbing more chocolate sauce on himself like a lunatic.
‘Do it to Mummy!’ Lila claps.
Oh hell no. I hold my hands up. ‘No thanks.’
‘Do it! Do it!’
‘Ah I couldn’t. Your mummy looks far too pretty to be covered in chocolate.’
I glance over at Joe, feeling oddly bashful at the compliment. He is very good at acting the boyfriend. I’m so busy thinking about all the ways Joe has thrown himself into this new role that I don’t hear Lila announce: ‘I’ll do it!’ I don’t see her tottering off the bench and over to our side of the table, her hands already dipped in chocolate.
One sticky paw landing on my cream shirt snaps me back to reality.
Another lands on my cheek.
Joe appears to be shouting NOOOOOOOOO in slow-mo.
Sidney’s clapping.
I’m … not horrified. I look down at the complete mess formerly known as my expensive French top. I look up at Lila’s enthralled face. I think Joe’s holding his breath?
‘I guess we’re all mucky pups now,’ I say.
Sidney shouts MUCKY PUP. Lila lets out a peel of delighted laughter. And I am so happy to see my daughter enjoying some time outside school with a kid who has quite obviously become a good little friend of hers. It gives me a sense of achievement, too, like I’m doing a good job at parenting today, which is all I’ve ever wanted really.
Later, when the kids are experiencing one hell of a sugar comedown, lying on their backs in my garden staring up at the clouds, Joe catches my hand.
‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ he says.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Getting you covered in chocolate. You don’t seem like the type who’s super keen on mess?’
I pause. He’s right but also, urgh. ‘Do I come across as really prissy to you?’
‘Not prissy, just organised,’ he says carefully. ‘You like things to be neat and tidy and probably not covered in comestibles.’
‘Ha. I do like things to be neat and tidy but today was fun. Lila loved it. I mean, obviously I can never take her for churros again in case there’s a repeat performance but …’ I shrug. ‘With you around, I’m learning to live a little.’
‘As long as we’re cool.’ Joe looks relieved.
‘We’re cool.’ I smile, rolling out a picnic blanket and lying down myself. We’re enjoying an uncharacteristically warm April and I stretch my whole body out, listening to the sound of bees buzzing around the plants in my garden.
The next thing I know, Joe is very gently shaking me awake.
‘OH MY GOD,’ I shout, sitting bolt upright. ‘Did I fall asleep?’
‘Yup.’ He looks thrilled.
‘Must have been your great banter,’ I tease.
‘Did you know you make a lot of noise when you’re asleep?’ he shoots back.
‘Oh GOD,’ I reply, rubbing my eyes.
‘They’re actually very cute noises,’ he concedes. ‘Like a little guinea pig.’
‘Well that’s not embarrassing at all. Where are the kids?’
‘Also asleep,’ he points out, and I follow his gaze to two small children who have passed out in the garden at … six p.m.
We share a look.
‘I think they’re at their most adorable when they’re asleep,’ he says.
‘Hell yes. You can really appreciate them when you aren’t getting any gip.’
‘Ha. Exactly.’
‘Do you guys want to stay over? There’s space and it seems a shame to wake Sid up.’
‘Never wake a sleeping Sid,’ Joe says solemnly. ‘It was one of the very first rules of parenting I learned. He goes mad. Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘It would be really nice to have the house full, actually.’
And so, one by one, Joe carries the kids up to bed. It’s only when we’re sat together in my living room listening to the radio that the actual purpose of today comes to mind.
‘Got to feed the beast,’ I say, Airdropping him a photo I took of us at the cinema while the children were loading up on snacks. He tags me in a pic with the caption ‘she’s a star’ underneath and I get an oddly warm glow when I see the post.
‘For a minute there, I sort of forgot the whole reason we went on a date today.’ I yawn sleepily.
Joe doesn’t reply, he just gives me the kind of strange look I cannot get a read on. The next thing I know, I’m waking up after falling asleep on the sofa. There’s a blanket across me, so Joe must have tucked me in before heading to bed himself.