Chapter 33

Mass hysteria has descended amongst the kids over the past few days and all the parents agree that it is definitely time for the summer holidays to start, even though I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to entertain Lila and keep my business going for six weeks solid. She’s like a feral beast at the moment, still waking at dawn and rampaging through each day with a vim and vigour I could only dream of. Joe and I have organised a few things for the kids to do — Lila and Sid are going to tennis camp together and there’s a weeklong forest skills course they’re taking part in with some of the other Barnaby’s children. Plus Celeste is threatening to invite everyone to the Battenbergs’ ‘country pad’ in the Cotswolds for a long weekend.

‘Will there be room for us all?’ I ask as we wait at the school gates for the last time this year.

Celeste considers this. ‘I might have to free up some space in the staff quarters if everyone can make it, which bring its own problems of course. We can’t do without the caterers but I suppose we could manage without the masseuse, and the dog walker could probably go …’

Joe makes a noise like he’s trying not to laugh and I nestle happily against him. It’s a week since Denise had her fall and she’s doing so much better after some rest. Meanwhile Joe and I are surviving on adrenaline alone. Work plus kids plus Denise tlc during the day and … Let’s just say we’ve been burning the candle at both ends. One look from Joe is all I need to melt into a puddle of molten gold and I still cannot keep my hands off him.

‘I’ve got plenty of picnic stuff!’ Tally says and I drag my thoughts out of Joe’s underpants and back to reality. School pick-up. So much has changed since we met here at the school gates earlier this year. I thought I’d given up on men full stop and now here I am struggling to get my mind out of the gutter after even the briefest of shared looks with my very own Hot No-Longer-Single Dad.

I turn my attention to Tally, who is riding towards us on a bike with a pretty basket on the front while one of her teenage ‘interns’ runs along beside her, filming the scene.

‘We have drinks,’ I say, a bag for life by my feet.

‘I may have eaten some of the cake on the way over,’ admits Frankie, holding out a Victoria sponge with a bite missing.

Once the kids have poured out we walk in little groups towards the park, chatting about their first year at school and how we can’t believe it’s over already. It’s so different from the start of the year, when I felt completely ostracised from the group. As I walk, it strikes me that it wasn’t just down to them. They’d already formed a clique, sure, but it was up to me to make an effort. I’d had my guard up for so long that these barriers were an absolute mission to break down. And yet here I am, gabbing about reformer Pilates with Tally as if I know what I’m talking about. I mean, I’ve done normal Pilates so it can’t be much different?

‘You should come to my next class,’ she says as we set up camp in the park, the kids making a beeline for the playground.

‘I’d love that.’

We spread a few picnic blankets out, lay out the food and bat away wasps as we chat. Lila, Sid and their classmates clatter over whenever their stomachs get the better of them for another handful of cheesy Wotsits and some form of pork-based food. Cotton wool puffs of clouds meander by, offering moments of shade from the warm, early evening sun. Joe leans against me.

‘You look happy,’ he says.

‘Very,’ I murmur, taking a sip of gin in a tin.

It feels like the perfect summer’s evening, I think as a couple cycle towards us with their bike helmets on. They stop at a tree close to our picnic. As the woman takes her helmet off, I realise who it is.

‘Pop! What are you doing here?’

‘Charming as ever.’ She grins, handing her helmet to Adam. My heart does a little squeeze as I note how cute these two are together. The pair of them decided to stay on in Cornwall for a week after the wedding and we haven’t caught up since.

‘Adam! How are you?’ I ask, scrambling up to greet them.

‘Great thanks.’

‘We’re officially a couple now,’ Poppy proudly announces. ‘I wanted to tell you in person.’

‘Thank Christ for that.’ I laugh, pulling her in for a snuggle. ‘We’d been waiting long enough.’

‘I know, sis,’ she says. ‘It’s actually your fault. If I hadn’t been so focused on fixing your terrible love life I might have been able to spend more time on my own.’

‘You are literally impossible.’ I hand them both a gin and tonic. ‘Come and sit and tell us all about it.’

Adam and Poppy grab a spot next to Joe and me, telling their story together and filling in each other’s gaps.

‘Obviously we hooked up at Alexis’s wedding,’ Poppy says.

‘I saw,’ I hoot.

‘And after you’d left I told Poppy how I felt. I thought: it’s now or never,’ says Adam.

‘He was very sweet. And we talked about you two as well. I started banging on about missed opportunities and how bad I felt for you, Soph, because you’d finally realised what Joe meant to you and at that point we all thought it was too late. I couldn’t stand the thought of that.’

‘Obviously she’s been madly in love with me this entire time.’ Adam beams.

Poppy nods. ‘It’s true. Just don’t get a big head about it. You’ve been there for me throughout everything, from A Levels to moving to London and coming back again, and I’ve just taken you for granted. He’s been so consistent while I’ve been gadding about and I realised that if I didn’t say something to him, there and then, that I might lose him like you were losing Joe.’

Poppy’s eyes have misted over. Mine are on the brink of doing the same.

‘It’s a bit weird dating someone you already live with,’ Adam admits.

Poppy laughs. ‘I already know that it’s best not to interrupt him if he’s attempting today’s Wordle.’

‘And I’m beyond complaining when she uses all my nice bathroom products,’ he says, pretending to sigh. ‘I guess I’ll just have to buy you some of your own now.’

‘She does that to you, too?’ I ask. ‘Honestly, Poppy.’

‘Caring is sharing.’

She’s been rolling that phrase out since we were kids and she’d borrow yet another one of my things, only to return it in less than pristine working order.

‘Good luck, Adam.’ I laugh.

‘You’ll be even happier when you hear what we have to say next.’ Poppy’s eyes twinkle.

‘Go on …’

‘The bags under your eyes, babes,’ she says. ‘I know what’s going on. You want to bang twenty-four seven, yes? But you have kids and jobs and other responsibilities because you are both boring thirty-somethings, right?’

I balk at this.

‘So Adam and I are giving you the gift of time.’

‘The gift of time?’ I scoff. Poppy is so dramatic.

‘Auntie Poppy and Uncle Adam to the rescue! We’ll housesit and look after Lila and Sid at yours while you two can hole up at Joe’s, bang ’til your heart’s content and get some sleep as well. Sort those bags out.’

I look back at their bikes and spot the rucksacks strapped to them.

‘What, tonight?’

‘All weekend, baby! Lila and I are hosting an end-of-school weekender at yours with her good pal Sidney.’

I look at Joe. He bites his lip. I try to drag my eyes away from his mouth.

‘Are you sure? A whole weekend is a long time to look after two five-year-olds,’ I say, admittedly quite feeble in my protestations, because in my mind I’m already there, between the sheets with Joe and it will be difficult to pull back now.

‘Sure.’

Joe’s already standing up. He holds out a hand and pulls me up too. We say our goodbyes to the kids, who are beyond excited at the prospect of a weekend with Cool Auntie Poppy, and explain to the mums that we’re heading off.

‘It is sickening that you two seem more loved up now than five months ago,’ says Frankie. ‘Sickening. Shouldn’t you be arguing over who’s turn it is to take the bins out by now?’

‘When I ask Richard to tidy up, he just puts things in piles,’ Mel sighs.

Tally nods in understanding. ‘Jude puts empty milk cartons back into the fridge like an animal.’

‘Nish goes out with his mates every time I’m cooking a fish pie for dinner. I can’t for the life of me think why,’ Olivia observes.

‘Douglas insists on me calling him Prime Minister during foreplay,’ Celeste chips in cheerily.

Startled by this latest revelation, I look anywhere but at Frankie because I know exactly how she’ll be reacting.

‘On that note … Bye, guys!’ I call.

Joe grabs my hand and we walk through the park, the sun warming our skin as we head all the way back to his house for a blissful and very much uninterrupted weekend.

Gripped by The Pick Up? Please leave a review – it helps new readers find Hannah’s book.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.