Chapter Twenty-Three
Milo
It was noticeable how much Rupert relaxed once everything had come out about his fears and we’d finally talked about what we wanted. I was glad I’d been able to make my feelings clear—most of them anyway—and show him how fucking stubborn I could be when I’d decided on something.
I knew all of this was scary. Putting yourself out there as the most open version of yourself was always a risk. But he didn’t need to worry about me waking up one day and deciding he was too much. I’d already locked in.
I hadn’t told him, obviously, because who really wanted to hear that the guy they’d just started dating had already decided they were going to be together forever?
I’d simply keep the rough notes about our five-year plan—that I’d made on my phone in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep—a secret for a while.
Maybe subtly ask a few related questions now and then to make sure I was heading in the right direction.
But before I could really focus on the ins and outs of the future, we first had to get through dinner with my friends.
It was the last one before Darcy and Owen jetted off to Australia for four weeks over Christmas and New Year, and the first one I was bringing Rupert to.
They’d all promised to be on their best, least intrusive, behaviour but I’d believe that when I saw it.
Darcy seemed to have come around a lot more recently, and I wondered whether Alfie’d had a word.
“Do I look okay?” Rupert asked, smoothing out the front of his red, knitted jumper as I knocked on Jonathan’s front door. Because despite the fact the cottage was a bit small for all six of us, it was still the biggest option available.
“You look gorgeous,” I said, shooting him a smile and leaning over to kiss his cheek, careful not to drop the chocolate bread and butter pudding I was holding in my other hand.
I’d made it that afternoon with chocolate chip brioche, some Nutella, and an extra bag of chocolate chips, because I’d promised to bring pudding with me. It didn’t seem fair for Alfie and Jonathan to host and provide all the food, not when I had plenty of time to make something myself.
“Are you sure? Maybe I should have worn the dark blue.”
“Nope, I like the red. It suits you. Plus, it’s festive!
And we match.” I gestured at my own knitted jumper, which my nan had made for my dad at some point in the nineties.
It had something resembling a pattern on it, but mostly it was a fabulous hodgepodge of colours.
Dad had always been convinced Nan had just made him jumpers out of whatever wool she’d had lying around, whether it matched or not, and looking at it now, I had to agree.
It wasn’t quite an eyesore, but it was definitely bright.
Rupert hummed as he looked at my jumper again with an amused smile. He hadn’t outright said it was awful, so I thought it was fine. Besides, he liked my colourful clothing.
“Oh my God, what are you wearing?” Darcy asked as he opened the cottage door, gesturing at the jumper before pulling me into a sideways hug, careful of the dish I was holding. “It looks like a paint factory exploded all over you.”
“Hey! My nan made this.”
“Wait… didn’t it used to belong to your dad?” Darcy asked, stepping back to let us in. “I’m sure I remember him wearing something similar when we were kids.”
“Yeah it did,” I said, thrusting the pudding into his arms before squatting down to undo my boots. I waved one hand between Darcy and Rupert, who was stood slightly awkwardly in the doorway. “Darcy, Rupert. Rupert, Darcy. I know you’ve already met, but have another introduction.”
“Hi,” Darcy said, reaching out to shake Rupert’s hand. “It’s so lovely to meet you outside work.”
“Nice to meet you too, thanks for having me.”
“Of course.” He chuckled. “I’m acting like this is my house and it’s not.
Pop your coats up there and come through.
We’re all kinda squeezed into the kitchen while Jonathan and Alfie finish dinner.
” He glanced down at the dish, toying with a corner of the foil I’d covered it with. “Ooh, what did you bring?”
“Chocolate bread and butter pudding,” I said, taking it back from him.
“That sounds amazing,” Darcy said. “I’m so hungry! We’ve been packing all day. I can’t decide what to take. I know it’s going to be hot over there but I’m sure I’ll need a few layers, just in case.”
“Layers are always good,” Rupert said with a polite nod and a small smile. “You might find the early mornings or nights a little chilly, especially once you acclimatise. And if there’s air conditioning too. Plus planes are always so cold I find.”
“Rupert’s got family in India. Trust him, he knows how to dress for hot weather that’s not a tank top and shorts,” I said.
Darcy beamed at him, and in an instant I saw all of his worries start to melt away.
“That’s perfect, I need all your help. Owen says I can just take T-shirts and shorts, but I’ve never been a shorts person except for running or the beach.
I’ve got some linen trousers and shirts, but I’m not sure if it’s too much. ”
I chuckled as Darcy started shepherding Rupert further into the cottage, well aware I’d probably lost him for the evening now.
The little kitchen at the back of the cottage was warm and crowded, but not uncomfortably so. It was cosy and familiar, and despite the fact there were six of us, the conversation wasn’t so loud I couldn’t hear myself think.
Jonathan had made lasagne again, and was very happy at my contribution, finding me a little trivet shaped like a beehive for it to rest on before it went into the oven.
Alfie was pouring drinks, gently shooing Darcy and Rupert out of the door towards the sitting room so he could finish pulling the table out from the wall and extending it.
Owen was making salad and chatting to Jonathan about wargaming tournaments and travelling, and it made me smile to see the way they’d easily folded into our group.
We’d grown from three to six in only nine months, which for some friendship groups might have been too big a change, but we’d all happily rolled with it.
It did make me laugh that none of us had even managed to hold down relationships for long before, and suddenly over the busiest summer of our lives had been able to find gorgeous men who put up with our shit.
I was taking it as confirmation from the universe that this was where we needed to be, and moving back here to take on Darcy’s ice cream dream was the right decision.
“You look very deep in thought,” Alfie said, and I jumped as I realised I’d been staring off into space.
“Not really. Just thinking about how glad I am that I said yes to Darcy when he asked me to move back.”
Alfie smiled fondly, his eyes drifting over to Jonathan. “Yeah, me too. It’s been stressful but I don’t think I’d change much. Maybe a few things… maybe get my head out of my arse a bit sooner.”
“It’s all a learning experience,” I said. “And we all got there in the end.”
I turned slightly, craning my head to look into the sitting room where Darcy and Rupert were deep in conversation about clothing. Alfie must have followed my gaze because he added, “They look like they’re getting on well.”
“Yeah, I think they are. I might have to go and rescue Rupert in a minute, though, before Darcy talks his ear off. But considering how reluctant Darcy was for us to get involved, he seems very happy to pick Rupert’s brain.”
Alfie hummed noncommittally. “Mmm, well, Darcy’s not that bad. He’s good at coming to his senses, and I think he realised how much you like each other.”
“You said something, didn’t you?”
“Me? Oh, no.” I could hear him smiling but when I turned to look at him, he pretended to zip his mouth closed.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I said, nudging him gently.
“By the way, I had a thought… we should totally get a stand at the Christmas market or light switch on next year. I know we’ll be closed, but I bet Darcy and Owen can whip us up a load of stock before they bugger off.
And I think we should look at tubs too, allow the locals to stock up before we shut for the winter.
Maybe do a pre-order system for collection at the end of October. ”
“I think those could work,” Alfie said, and I saw his mind already whirring as it started to run the numbers and how we might do certain things.
“You don’t have to figure it out now,” I said. “They were just thoughts.”
“Definitely not now, whatever it is,” Jonathan said, appearing on Alfie’s other side with a fond smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek and leaving a tiny lipstick mark behind.
“Dinner’s nearly ready, if you don’t mind grabbing everyone.
Milo, how long does this pudding need to go in for?
And at what temperature? Can I put it in once I take the lasagne out? ”
“Yeah, that should be fine. Maybe turn it down a bit so we don’t have to rush?
I think it’ll take about half an hour or forty minutes.
” I wasn’t sure if that was right or not, but I could keep an eye on it while we ate, and if it started to look too crispy I’d just turn the oven off.
That was generally how I did things. Precise timings and temperatures had never been my thing.
Alfie retrieved Rupert and Darcy, and we all squished around the kitchen table, with Rupert tucked in between me and Jonathan.
Which was a good move because they were both very stylish, so they had that to talk about, and they also liked cool, weird shit, plus Jonathan had shown an interest in Lizzie.
And if all else failed, I’d steer the conversation towards Theo and Laurie’s wedding, which Rupert had helped Alfie pick a suit for.
I didn’t need to worry though, because they fell into easy conversation without any prompting, and all I could do was marvel at how charismatic, gorgeous, and awesome my boyfriend was.
“How’re you doing?” I asked when Jonathan got up to check on the pudding, putting my hand on Rupert’s thigh under the table.
“Really good,” he said quietly. “Everyone is so nice. I don’t know why I was so nervous.”
“Happens to all of us. I’m nervous about dinner with Norman and Sidney next week,” I said with a wry chuckle. We’d finally managed to arrange something after many pointed nudges from Norman, and I was bricking it.
“Honestly, me too and I work with Norman! Oh, he has some crochet supplies for you. He got them off someone in his book club.”
“Score! I can’t wait to make Lizzie a hat.”
“You’re doing what?” Alfie asked. “Did you say you’re making a snake a hat?”
“Yeah, obviously. She needs a proper bonnet, Alfie, come on. It’s polite!”
“I cannot wait to see this,” Darcy said with a grin, sipping his glass of wine. “Please, please, send me pictures. I need to see what you come up with.”
“I thought you didn’t like snakes?” I asked.
“I am not their biggest fan, sorry,”—he shot an apologetic look at Rupert—“but a snake in a bonnet is different. Especially if it’s one you’ve made.”
“You don’t think I can do it?”
“Oh no, I’m a hundred percent sure you can, if only through sheer stubbornness.”
“I want to see too,” Owen said. “Mostly because I do like snakes.”
“Do you want to see pictures now? I have some new ones on my phone from last weekend when I started putting up Christmas decorations. She really likes the tree,” Rupert said, his hand lingering over his trouser pocket.
“Fuck yeah, that sounds awesome!” Owen slid around the table to steal Jonathan’s seat, immediately engrossed in Rupert’s retelling of Miss Bennet verses the Christmas tree.
I smiled and squeezed Rupert’s thigh again, happier than I’d ever considered possible.