The Pick Up

Chapter 15

Sassy Sylvia’s is an opulent affair. Chandeliers dangling from the ceiling refract light, disco-ball style, wherever you go. Behind the bar expensive liquor bottles are lit up in gold. The décor is pinks and greens, plush furnishings and crystal glassware. It’s also packed with beautiful people and oof, am I glad that I made an effort!

‘You look incredible,’ Joe says as we walk into the bar.

‘Oh … thanks,’ I reply. I spent proper time getting ready for tonight. Messy bun, creamy eyeshadow, hell, I even highlighted my collar bones! I pulled on black leather trousers, scallop-edged sandals and a black sequinned vest for an out out vibe. When I dropped Lila at Joe’s – Saint Denise is babysitting – she opened the door and blurted out: ‘Sweet mother of Mary, you look lovely!’

‘You scrub up well yourself,’ I tell Joe, noticing his shirt unbuttoned just the right amount, sleeves pulled up past forearms.

‘It’s a bit different to Maggie’s pub in here,’ Joe says as he looks nervously around the glam bar.

‘I hope you weren’t expecting to get your crossword finished.’

Joe shoots me a look and sighs. ‘Sometimes, Sophie, I think you see me as a boring old scholar. A man who likes nothing better than settling in front of a roaring fire and pondering life with a whiskey in his hand.’

‘You do like those things though, right?’

‘That’s not the point,’ he says and folds his arms.

‘Are you grumpy with me?’ I ask, poking his left bicep. ‘Oh my god, you are grumpy with me! Come on, we both know you’re way more fun than me, you’re always thinking of cool things to do with Sidney.’

He looks at me with one arched eyebrow. ‘That’s better.’

‘Now how about you put these to good use,’ I say, realising that my hand is still on his upper arm and giving it a squeeze.

Joe looks momentarily confused.

‘We need to muscle our way to the bar!’

‘I thought you weren’t drinking at the moment?’

‘I’m not but that doesn’t have to stop you,’ I add.

‘Come on then.’ He takes my hand as he leads me through the packed venue. We find Tally, resplendent in an all-in-one sequinned catsuit, chatting into her phone at the bar. It becomes apparent that she’s live-streaming the launch party.

‘Hey, guys,’ she’s saying. ‘I’m so excited to be here at Sassy Sylvia’s. Meet Nitin, our fabulous bartender for the evening. He’s making me a spicy margarita. Oh and here are some parent friends of mine, Joe and Sophie.’ She trains her phone on us and we each do an awkward wave. ‘And look, here’s the rest of the crew!’

Sure enough Celeste, Olivia, Mel and Frankie have managed to find us. Frankie’s fretting because she has baby sick on her ‘one good top’ and I tell her truthfully that she looks lovely. Celeste looks very much like she just stumbled out of Westminster, Olivia’s in a slinky silk dress and Mel is still wearing her work Crocs. We get our orders in before Tally suggests we head outside for ‘fresh content’.

‘I could actually do with some fresh air,’ Joe says, eyeing up the cherry decorating his drink in suspicion.

‘So, how was the theatre trip?’ asks Mel.

‘Not one child was sick on me,’ Joe says proudly. Tactfully he doesn’t add that Celeste nearly made them all miss the bus back to school because she was busy schmoozing with the theatre director, or that she referred to herself as ‘a patron of the arts’ the whole time. It was hilarious when he told me though, it made me both cringe and laugh. He’s generous like that – he doesn’t make people look stupid, even if he thinks they are.

Celeste finds us a table and plants herself next to Joe. ‘The children were a joy,’ she tells us. ‘Oscar is such a literary fellow already, don’t you think, Joe?’

Joe takes a gulp of his drink. ‘I’d say that all the children seemed to enjoy themselves.’

‘No,’ Frankie announces loudly, standing up to make herself heard. ‘Sorry, but no. I refuse to talk about the kids tonight. We should have a ban on it. This is my first night out since baby Helen was born and I intend to let loose! So, before I need to leave for the night feed, let’s get lit!’

Frankie’s enthusiasm spreads like wildfire and it seems everyone in the group is suddenly on it. She sits back down next to Joe and nudges him.

‘Right, Joe?’

‘Right,’ he agrees, slightly startled. ‘Let’s get wavy! Or at least I think that’s what my students say?’

Celeste is asking what that actually means but everyone’s eyes have settled on Joe. He’s picked up the cherry from his empty glass and is taking a bite, oblivious to the fact that he’s now centre of attention. He holds the fruit by its stalk and pops the whole thing in his mouth. Olivia makes a sound like a purring cat. Frankie tells me I’m a ‘lucky bastard’. Somehow he manages to spit the pip out with decorum and only then does he notice that the rest of our group are staring lasciviously at him.

‘Let’s go get a round in,’ I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. Protective mode sets in, just like I pinky-promised it would.

‘Dear god yes please,’ Joe mutters under his breath, giving me a grateful look for offering him an escape route.

By the time we get back to the sophisticated outdoor area, where vines have been trained up trellising and subtly interspersed with lights, the mood has shifted to one of extreme excitement. Tally is practically fizzing.

‘Akoni Jones is here,’ she says. ‘OMG I can’t believe it.’

I look around and spot my new client, and The Royal Oak’s new landlord, with a huddle of equally ripped mates at another table.

Tally subtly readjusts her cleavage and presses her lips together to redistribute her lipstick. ‘I need to get a picture with him,’ she says. ‘But I’ve just seen Mama in Pearls go over and his friends turned her away. They were polite about it but I overheard them saying something about a night off. The Akoni Jones. This is influencer gold.’

‘Who’s Akoni Joes?’ asks Frankie.

‘Can you stop saying his name out loud?’ says Tally, which is a bit rich given that she’s the one going on about him. She leans towards Frankie. ‘Huge international rugby star. He retired from the game in his late twenties and moved over here from Samoa to work as a pundit. He was all over the TV when the rugby world cup was on, right? Apparently he’s moved to the West Country.’

Joe and I exchange looks. I have no intention of letting on that I’ve been working with him because, as keen as I am to get in with the mum group, business comes first and I don’t think he’d thank me for exposing him to yet more fans tonight. However, we’re suddenly plunged into shadow thanks to what I can only imagine is a lunar eclipse.

‘Sophie?’

I turn to see Akoni stood right behind me. The other mums have their mouths hanging open.

‘Hi!’ I say, standing up to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. We’ve only had Zoom chats up unto this point. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

‘It’s nice to meet you in real life. Come join us?’

‘That’s really kind but we’re having a parents’ night out.’

‘Everyone’s welcome,’ he says, and Tally is up and out of her seat faster than you can say ‘follower growth’.

Things are a bit of a blur after that. Tally is so thrilled with me that she keeps throwing a sequinned arm around my shoulder and telling me how great I am. ‘Loving your connections, Sophie!’ I’m embarrassingly pleased. Feeling like a valued member of the mum group is what I’ve wanted for ages after all, even though they are a … unique bunch.

Akoni is being very gallant in posing for a constant stream of photos with our favourite mumfluencer and Tally is so chuffed she’s got one up on Mama in Pearls that she’s ordered a magnum of champagne for the group.

Meanwhile Joe has developed a man crush.

‘I bloody love you, mate,’ he tells Akoni after his third or fourth drink. He seems to be taking Frankie’s vow to ‘get lit’ very seriously tonight.

In any event it seems that the feeling is mutual.

‘Man, you too. And seriously, if you do want to come on a hike with me and the lads …’ Akoni says.

‘Hike,’ Joe guffaws, and at this point I realise he’s quite tipsy. ‘In Ireland we call it a walk.’

Akoni thinks on this, before pulling Joe in for a hug. ‘You handsome bastard,’ he tells him and I’m left wondering, not for the first time, what a strange bunch men are. The boys are entangled in a snuggle and as the bromance continues I turn my attention to Celeste. She isn’t a big fan of places like this. She prefers ‘intimate settings’ where vintage wines and good conversation flow, she says. She’s clutching her Chanel handbag against her body like a disapproving matron.

‘I just don’t know if this is the kind of place I should be seen,’ she frets.

‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Olivia replies, ‘it’s not like there were photographers on the door. I don’t think anyone was tipped off that we might have a rugby superstar and half the Bath team in our midst.’

‘But Tally’s been filming the entire thing all night,’ Celeste says. ‘Her followers must have seen me in the footage. I can practically see the Daily Mail headlines now – “MP’S WIFE PARTIES WITH RUGBY PLAYERS ON A SCHOOL NIGHT”.’

‘And wozz wrong with that?’ Frankie hiccups.

‘Well, nothing really. Nanny’s there to tuck the children up, of course. It’s just the optics, that’s all, and I swear I saw some sort of drugs deal going on in the toilets earlier.’

‘Really?’ Frankie looks hopefully towards the loos.

‘Douglas won’t be pleased,’ Celeste despairs. ‘I think I’m going to have to go.’

‘But we’re having so much fun,’ protests Joe, who has now ordered a punchbowl for the group, spiked with boozy fruit and colourful straws. He takes a long sip, shudders, and then grabs my hand and pulls us both up to dance. A thrilled Akoni follows suit and soon we’re shimmying around next to the DJ who’s just started playing old-school house music on the terrace.

Joe beams at me. ‘It’s like being in Ibiza!’ he shouts above the din. ‘Not that I’ve been. All of my school friends went to Ayia Napa after A Levels but I decided to do a literary tour of the north of England instead. It was pretty dope.’

‘Pretty dope?’ I snort. ‘I think you’re a bit too thirtysomething to get away with saying that, Joe.’

‘Sophie! No, no, no! We can’t criticise Joe! He’s a legend,’ Akoni says, mid-dance moves.

I laugh and pretend to zip my lips.

‘God, that trip.’ Joe’s eyes mist over with the memories. ‘I did Whitby, for Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and then on to Cumbria for some Beatrix Potter immersion. Haworth for the Bront?s …’

And to think he once called me a dork. Suddenly Akoni hoists him up onto his shoulders and the pair stagger around the terrace much to the delight of everyone else out here. It’s an incredible sight because Joe is about six foot and between them … I retreat back to our table, laughing.

‘Joe’s adorable when he’s drunk,’ Mel says to me.

He is adorable, I think with a smile. Despite the prospect of a major hangover tomorrow, Joe hasn’t let his guard slip for a minute and is doing an excellent job at being my pretend boyfriend. He keeps shooting me looks and slinging an arm around my shoulder. I’m very impressed and strangely charmed, to be quite honest.

‘It’s been, what, a couple of months for you two now? That first flush of love is the best, isn’t it?’ chimes in a very drunk Frankie, or at least I think that’s what she says. She’s got her cute eyes on and keeps darting them between me and Joe. ‘JUZZ LOOK AT YOU. Can’t keep your eyes off him,’ she adds with a hiccup.

I guess I have been watching Joe a fair bit this evening.

‘Go and give him a kiss FORGODSAKE,’ Frankie slurs.

‘What?’ I’m startled now. ‘Oh no! I couldn’t! Just look at him! He’s having lots of fun with Akoni. It would be, um, rude to interrupt.’

Even practical Mel isn’t buying this.

‘Go on,’ Frankie rallies. ‘He will love it!’

Oh fuck. What do I do now? They’re all watching me! Even Celeste, although she looks less keen on the plan and more like she’d happily knock me out with her designer handbag. Akoni has now put Joe back on the floor and they’re singing along to a familiar song together. Everyone else’s eyes are on me. And for the life of me, I cannot think of a reasonable excuse not to go and kiss the man who all the mums think is my boyfriend.

So, I’m going to have to do it?

My heart is clamouring as I get up from the table.

Frankie’s clapping her encouragement.

Tally shouts: ‘Oi oi!’

As I walk towards Joe, I decide that a hug and a peck on the cheek should do the trick. With Akoni there as a buffer, I can pretend I kept things chaste for decency’s sake if anyone asks. Joe turns and a huge smile lights up his face when he sees me – a sure sign he’s very drunk and/or still thinking dreamy thoughts about his post-exam literary bender. Phwoar, the Bront?s.

‘Sophie!’ he booms, hands in the air.

Then Akoni does the unthinkable. He leaves the dancefloor to find the toilets. I’m almost dumbstruck as I watch him go, time seems to speed up as I now need a new plan and fast. Because right now it’s just me and Joe, with no Akoni as a foil, and a bunch of thirsty mums waiting for a display of affection.

‘Sorry about this,’ I whisper through a smile. ‘Just go with it?’

It’s so loud that I’m not sure if Joe can hear me. He leans closer.

‘Frankie’s demanding a kiss!’ I shout into his ear apologetically. He turns to face me, still looking like he might not have caught the whole thing, but I’m hoping he got the gist because by now I’m so aware that all eyes are on us that I’ve started making moves.

I trace my hand across his stomach and a flash of confusion crosses his face and OH MY GOD this is embarrassing but then my lips are on his and for the briefest moment my mind stills.

The kiss is soft and gentle, like a question between us.

The sensible side of my brain tells me I’ve done what I needed to do, and I should probably pull away. But then time slows down and Joe’s hands trail around my back. We are still kissing and instinctively I press myself closer into him. My fingers itch to track up his neck and into his hair.

A pause in the music gives me time to come to my senses and I pull back even though every inch of my being would prefer to stay right there with Joe.

I feel like I could happily have melted into that moment with Joe. My eyes are wide as I take the smallest of steps back and track my gaze back up to meet Joe’s. His cheeks are flushed and his blue eyes pin me to the spot. He’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking. Flustered, I open my mouth, about to explain again why I just did that, but Celeste is now standing with her arms folded right next to us.

‘If you two have quite finished,’ she says sourly, ‘we’ve got Frankie to deal with.’

I look back at our table and see Frankie lying on the floor with a straw hanging out of her mouth. Explanations will have to wait, I think as I rush over to my friend.

‘Frankie,’ I say, feeling protective over her. ‘It’s getting late, love. Nearly eleven. Would you like a lift home?’

‘I am home,’ she insists.

‘Nope, still at the bar I’m afraid.’

She squints at her surroundings before her pupils flit between me and Joe, whose presence I am very aware of behind me.

‘OHMYGOD Joe and Sophie! I think seeing you two getting hot and heavy on the dancefloor made me pass out?’

I look over my shoulder and Joe’s face is unreadable.

‘I’m very drunk,’ she says.

‘I know.’ I stroke her head and grab a glass of water. ‘Do you want to try sitting up?’

‘I prefer the floor. Though my boobs are solid as a rock, Sophie. I’m going to have to pump and dump. That punch is lethal,’ she hiccups.

It is at this point most of the group decide to leave, with Celeste hopping into an Uber with Tally. Joe seems to have recovered from whatever the heck just happened and returns to his adorable drunken self. Maybe that’s all it is, I tell myself. I’m the sober one in this situation. He’ll probably have forgotten about the kiss by tomorrow morning. Meanwhile I will have to have a stern word with myself about not getting roped into doing that again. I like Joe too much to muddy the waters and I’m worried about how easily I could have fallen further into that kiss. I liked the feel of Joe’s lips on mine a bit too much, which is categorically not part of the plan. Anyway, Joe probably does this sort of thing all the time. I know he said he hadn’t dated but I never specifically asked about random hook-ups. Maybe he kisses a lot of women? Which is fine, I remind myself. I’m very much not here to be bothered by romantic feelings. Christ knows I’ve got enough on my plate! I turn my attention back to shoving a frankly lairy Joe and Frankie into the back seat of my car.

‘Hate to be a killjoy but there will be absolutely no vomiting in the back there,’ I say firmly. This Mini was one of the first things I treated myself to once my business was up and running and I love it a lot.

‘Spish-us-ly clean in here,’ Frankie says accusingly. ‘D’you have a child or not?’

‘Lila sits up front.’ I pat the car seat fixed in place next to me. ‘I’m sure I can dig out a few old raisins from her car seat if you’d like to feel more at home.’

‘I am actually quite peckish,’ Frankie replies.

‘Oh me too,’ enthuses Joe. ‘Drive-through?’

‘Absolutely not!’

‘Spoil sport,’ he grumbles.

‘Drive-through, drive-through, drive-through,’ Frankie starts up a chant. Joe joins in. Is this what it’s going to be like when Lila is a teenager? A whirring noise interrupts my thoughts. Brr. Brr. Brr. Please tell me Mini isn’t breaking down, I panic. She is getting quite old now.

‘Guys, can you hear that?’ I call out over their chanting.

Brr. Brr. Brr.

‘I’m expressing myself,’ Frankie shouts back.

‘All right, don’t get grumpy!’ I reply. ‘I was only wondering if you can hear that buzzing noise.’

‘YES,’ sighs Frankie, exasperated. She signals to me in the rear-view mirror. ‘I’m expressing myself.’

I glance behind to see that she is, in fact, hooked up to her portable breast pump while Joe looks determinedly out of the other window. I burst out laughing and it’s not long before the three of us are trying to hum a tune to match the sound of Frankie’s boob pump.

‘Much better,’ says Frankie as I indicate to turn off at the next McDonald’s. Attempting to put in an order with two drunkards shouting things like nuggets, burgers and extra fries at me from the back seat isn’t the easiest, but at least the food keeps them quiet for the rest of the journey home.

‘Thaz love,’ Frankie slurs as we reach her house.

‘Beg your pardon?’ I ask.

‘Stopping for a takeaway because Joe was hungry. That’s LOVE! You don’t seem like the sort of woman who allows fried foods to be consumed in the back of her car, normally.’

Joe snorts at this. I catch his eye in my rear-view mirror and he gives me a look that dives deep into my soul.

‘I’m not normally big on people expressing breast milk in my car, either,’ I retort, shaking my head to rid myself of strange Joe thoughts.

‘D’you want to keep some of this?’ Frankie asks hopefully, handing a still-warm cup of breastmilk to Joe. ‘Too boozy for baby Helen but I’m sure it’ll be fine for you guys on cereal or coffee. Or juz as a little midnight drink?’

Joe gips.

I lean into the back seat and take it, not wanting to be rude.

‘Thank you, Frankie! See you tomorrow.’

We watch her stumble into her house still clutching a paper bag filled with food wrappers before the short journey back to Joe’s. Now it’s just the two of us, the as-yet-undiscussed kiss still hanging in the air. I glance back at Joe in the wing mirror, looking for clues as to what he’s thinking, and am hugely relieved to see that he’s fallen fast asleep.

‘Joe. Joe! Wake up, we’re back at yours.’

Nothing. I panic. Is he still alive back there? I hop out of the driver’s seat, open the back door and lean in.

‘Joe!’ I prod.

‘ARGH!’ he shouts, sitting upright so fast we clash heads. Ouch.

‘It’s all right,’ I soothe. ‘We’re home now. You fell asleep in my car.’

Joe looks sheepish as he attempts to walk in a straight line up to his front door and there’s no time for big discussions now, as Denise spots us and ushers us inside.

‘Hello, Mam.’ Joe kisses his mum on the forehead and heads straight for the kitchen to down a pint of water.

‘Uh oh. Good night, was it?’ she asks, with a twinkle in her eye.

‘You know, Sophie’s actually very lovely,’ he calls out from the kitchen. My eyes widen in surprise at the random compliment as Denise beams at me. We cautiously follow Joe into the kitchen, where he is still talking.

‘There’s a hard exterior you have to crack, like a shell or a … a … nut or something. But actually, she’s lovely.’

Oh god. What’s going on here?

‘He’s always been a sweet drunk,’ Denise says, pushing a plate filled with pastries in my direction. ‘I haven’t seen him like this in a while though. What with having to look after Sid all by himself and the responsibilities of parenting, it’s been a long time since he let his hair down.’

‘Mam, I’m right here,’ Joe protests. ‘I can hear everything you’re saying.’

I notice that his accent gets even stronger when he’s around his mum.

‘Ah but will you remember in the morning?’ She chuckles.

Is it wrong that I’m counting on Joe forgetting about the kiss so we don’t have to have any awkward convos tomorrow? Or should I just put my big-girl pants on and chat to him once Denise has gone to bed and he’s sobered up? I decide to polish off an apple Danish and wait it out. It’s delicious.

‘Denise, you really are a great baker. These flavours.’

The compliment lights her up. ‘Thank you. I’d love to have had some formal training and worked in a bakery. I did look into it but we had our children young and Jim’s job was enough to keep us comfortable, so there didn’t seem any point in me going out to work just to afford the childcare costs. And I loved being a mam, especially when the kids were little.’

She ruffles Joe’s hair, which has tumbled across his face, and he pats her on the hand. ‘And now I get to be a grandmother too, which is even better.’

‘It’s never too late,’ I say. ‘What’s stopping you from baking professionally?’

Denise laughs. ‘Sure I wouldn’t know where to start. Right, I’m off. Night you two.’

With Joe’s mum grabbing her stuff and heading home, I realise that now is the time. Oh GOD.

‘Sophie?’ he says, and I spin round to see him leaning against the countertop.

Here goes.

‘Joe.’

‘I think I’m going to be sick?’

With that, he bolts in the direction of the bathroom. While I wait I take another pastry until the next thing I know, Joe’s popping his head around the kitchen door.

‘The bathroom’s a crime scene, Sophie. I’m so sorry. And very embarrassed. I think I just need to sleep this off now. The spare room is ready for you if you want to stay?’

‘Thanks, Joe, I will. Stay hydrated, now,’ I say. Awkward conversations will have to wait.

So once again, Lila and I are having another sleepover at Joe’s house. It felt so normal that I didn’t even think twice about it. As I settle into Joe’s spare bed for the second time, I think about how much has changed in the last few months. I’m bonding with the school mums, my daughter is having lots of fun with another kid in class and I haven’t been pestered about my love life by Poppy in ages. There is, of course, the slight blip of tonight’s kiss but I am really hoping Joe clean forgets about it. Or even if he does remember, maybe he didn’t get the same sexy fireworks? For a brief moment I hope that he did. It definitely felt like he did. The way his lips grazed mine and …

STOP BEING SO FANCIFUL, SOPHIE! You’re not here for grazing lips!

This thing with Joe is a stepping stone to make my life completely man free, I remind myself. That’s why, if Joe remembers what happened, I hope he felt nothing. It keeps things much cleaner, which is how I like it. And if he asks, I’ll just explain I did it for the mums. Which is true. And he won’t ask if I enjoyed it, will he? No, he won’t.

I decide to chalk it up as a blip and focus on the positives, wiggling my toes under the covers and revelling in feeling like a weight has been lifted. The feeling of lightness seems to give me space for something else, too. The seed of a really bloody good idea. Denise’s baking has got me thinking and I am pretty sure there’s something I can do with Joe’s mum’s food. I sink into a peaceful sleep and dream about cookies.