‘But still, incredibly long week at work.’ The cloud passed over Rory’s expression once again.
I wished I could do something to wipe it away.
Stephen immediately detected the tone change. ‘Oh shit. Everything all right?’
I jumped in. ‘It’s going to be fine. We’ve got a brilliant comms team.’
It worried me, how I felt hardly anything when it came to our work crisis. My patience with the app was running out. When Stephen grabbed another slice and went back into his room, I took the plunge with something that had been playing on my mind.
‘Do you ever feel like we’re out of our depth, with the app?’
Rory snapped to attention. ‘What do you mean?’
I tore a strip of cardboard from the box, fiddling with it. ‘Our team is still really small, and there’s only so much we can do. A more experienced team could –’
He held out his hand. ‘Please tell me you aren’t suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.’
I wasn’t even sure what I was suggesting. But a very well-established dating app had expressed an interest in us. ‘What if we just asked their team for some advice?’
‘Penny.’ His tone was a warning. ‘This is one bad day. We are not stooping that low.’
I fought the urge to explain that, for me, this wasn’t the first bad day.
‘I just think –’
‘Penny, no,’ he snapped. Although he hadn’t quite raised his voice, the tone told me not to press further.
I went quiet. Rory never snapped at me, not like that. Both of us settled into awkward silence. Everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was new territory.
‘You’re right.’ I backed down.
Rory’s expression softened and he repeated the mantra from earlier. ‘It’s been a really long day.’ He must have been feeling guilty about snapping, because he reached out and grabbed my hand. ‘Want to get incredibly beaten at Mario Kart?’
It was a clear olive branch. In complete honesty, I had a banging headache, and after all that had just happened (or not happened) I really needed to lie down. But he looked hopeful, and I knew that thrashing me at Rainbow Road would be just like old, simpler times. It might make us feel better, and it might remind me why heated moments with Rory were an extremely bad idea. For so many reasons. I’d stay for a couple of races, but I could not afford to stay over. Who knew what would happen if I did.
I squeezed his hand. ‘Pass me the remote. It’s on.’
***
When I finally got home, Isla and Maeve were sitting on our sofa, painting their toenails with those weird foamy dividers separating their toes so that the paint didn’t smudge. After an hour of getting beaten at Mushroom Gorge, the contrast between our evening activities was comical.
‘Hey guys.’ I dumped my stuff in the hallway, wandering through and perching on the arm of the chair.
They were watching a romcom, and from the three seconds I’d witnessed of Jennifer Garner prancing around New York with a fluffy hair slide and pink fur coat, I was pretty sure it was 13 Going on 30.
‘You two are pretty much fulfilling every girly sleepover stereotype right now.’ I pointed at their bottle of rosé.
Maeve looked up from where she was painting her pinkie with a bright neon orange. ‘I’m not even sure if this is technically a hostage situation you’ve just walked in on.’
Isla pulled a face. ‘You weren’t saying that when I walked in and offered to cook you dinner.’ She pointed to a pot on the hob. ‘There’s leftovers if you haven’t eaten.’
‘It’s really good, I have to say. Even if it did come with a hidden condition of watching a Nineties romcom and partaking in a pillow fight.’ Maeve laughed when Isla pouted.
‘There was no pillow fight involved. I just needed some female companionship. Anyway, there’s some over there if you want it. No pillows will be required, I promise.’
I slid from the arm to the hollow at the end of the sofa, resting my head against the cushion behind me and closing my eyes briefly. ‘I’m good, I ate at Rory’s.’
There was a pause before Maeve spoke. ‘You did? I thought you guys were dealing with a work crisis?’
I opened one eye, aggravated slightly by her tone of surprise. Rory was still one of my closest friends, secret relationship or not. ‘Yes, we were. Then we grabbed food when we couldn’t work any longer. What’s the issue?’
‘Nothing. Right, Maeve?’ This time it was Isla who spoke.
Maeve backed down, holding up her hands in surrender. ‘Sure. Right, so you can either choose between some odd sort of London-pollution-bogey-green’ – she held up one bottle of nail polish – ‘or blood-of-your-enemies-red.’
Isla snorted. ‘OPI should hire you.’
‘I don’t think I’d get them many sales.’ Maeve was still holding the choices up. ‘Any thoughts?’
I had only a few thoughts for the day left in me, and they mainly consisted of my head hitting the pillow and not rising again for a solid ten hours. And maybe that weird moment of tension we’d just had.
‘It’s been a long day. I’ll pass on the salon experience if that’s all right. Why the emergency girls’ night?’
My soon-to-be sister sighed. ‘Joe had another night shift, so he left at seven. So I started going through all the RSVPs for the wedding, and I got out my sewing machine to do some more of the bunting, then I just …’
I exchanged a look with Maeve, who answered for Isla. ‘She’s having her pre-wedding wobble. I’m pretty sure it’s a textbook milestone. And that’s not the psychologist in me talking, that’s the woman in me talking.’
‘A wobble?’ I kicked my shoes off, sinking further into the warmth of the flat. ‘What do you mean, a wobble?’
