Page 4 of Book Boyfriend


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A Mia cuppa. I snigger to myself, thinking how much that riled Jemma up. She’s always been so easy to annoy. I’ve missed that.

The thing I’ve missed most of all, though, after five years in New York, was proper tea. As well as being waited on by my mum.

‘You OK, Clara?’ It’s not Mum’s voice, so I open just oneeye – warily. Angela is hovering over my face, eyebrows knitted with… I dunno, fear? I wonder briefly what she must think of me – what Mum and Jemma must’ve told her – and fight an impulse to make a run for it.

‘Hiya, Angela!’ I give her my best approximation of enthusiasm. I want her to like me. I want her to be charmed by me. I want her to go out into the world boasting about the loveliness of her new step-daughter. And if Mum and Jemma have been bitching about me, I want her to think less of them after bathing in my sunshine.

‘How’s it going?’ I say, opening the other eye, sitting upright and adopting my best interested face.

Angela and Mum met at a ballroom dancing class earlier this year, if you can imagine such a thing. It beats Tinder, I guess, but I wonder if they’ll actually make it down the aisle. There was definitely something in the way they were looking at one another earlier at the party. A tenderness in the way they held hands in that sort of understated way. Like they were the only two people in the room, and not, in fact, surrounded by mean, watchful Great-Aunts looking for a spot of familial gossip.

But Mum’s been engaged a couple of times before this – including to my dad a hundred years ago – and it’s never worked out. So I don’t necessarily hold out much hope for this latest romance. Though she’s prettier than many of Mum’s previous conquests; all legs and big red hair.

Angela smiles with relief, flashing small white teeth. ‘Oh yes, yes,’ she replies confusingly. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Iknow you must be exhausted after your long journey. Did you sleep on the plane?’ I shake my head and she tilts hers sympathetically. ‘Did you know, in 1964, a student once went eleven days and twenty-five minutes without sleeping?’

I raise my eyebrows, like this is the most fascinating thing I’ve ever heard. ‘I didn’t know that, Angela, thank you for telling me!’ I give her my most charming laugh. ‘Sounds like me and that student were on the same GCSE revision schedule!’

She doesn’t join in with my laugh and I wonder if Mum’s already told her how badly I did in my exams. It was just after Dad buggered off, so never mind a revision schedule, I didn’t turn up for half my lessons that year. Unlike Ms Smart Arse upstairs, Jemma, who never missed a second of school.

Angela is nodding again. ‘I’ll leave you to rest up. I just wondered if you needed anything?’ Shaking my head, I smile widely, giving her the full-wattage beam.

‘No, but thank youso muchfor offering, Angela!’ I dial the smile down, aware I’m being too much. I shouldn’t have used her name again; I sound like a Tory politician onGood Morning Britain, trying desperately to be relatable enough to justify re-election.

Angela turns to go, picking up stray plates and cups as she heads for the kitchen.

‘Actually, Ange,’ I call after her, ‘I’d kill for a cup of tea if you wouldn’t mind? No sugar, loads of milk?’ She turns back and for a moment I think she will tell me not to call her Ange. Instead she nods happily, backing away again.

Jemma replaces her in the doorway. ‘Already got them running around after you, I see,’ she says dryly, and I turn to face her, sitting up straighter.

‘Give me a break,’ I tell her, feeling drained. ‘I asked for tea! And I didn’t even make the Mia cuppa joke! I only did it because Angela’s clearly desperate to please. Shewantsto do stuff for me. It’s like a bonding ritual; adults doing stuff for their kids.’

Jemma looks at me askance. ‘We’re not kids,’ she says darkly. ‘And you should be nice to Angela, she’s really lovely.’

‘Oh my god, Iambeing nice to her!’ I cry out, feeling hard done by. Why does Jemma always assume the worst about me? ‘You should’ve seen me, I wassonice. She will totally love me when she gets to know me.’ I nod authoritatively. ‘You’ll see, I’ll be like the daughter she’s always wanted in no time.’

Jemma snorts. ‘She does have a daughter.’

‘Oh.’ That’s right, the teenager from earlier. I’d forgotten. ‘Oh yeah. Well, what’s her deal? Where is she anyway? Has she gone home?’

Jemma’s eyes slide away and she looks shifty. ‘Um, she’s… she’s upstairs.’ We fall silent, something awkward between us. Jemma swallows before continuing quickly. ‘She’s kind of intimidating actually. She’s just seventeen but she’s basically terrifying.’ She glances at me. ‘Buffy, I mean.’

I sit up straighter as Jemma moves across the room, wiping surfaces littered with crumbs. ‘Buffy?!Jesus Christ, tell me the kid’s name isn’t really Buffy?!’ I am delighted, but she shakes her head.

‘No, I don’t think so. Not really. I think it’s a nickname. I asked her about it when we got introduced, and she gave me this aggressively withering look and said it’s her username on Snapchat because she slays.’ We regard each other with amusement and I shake my head.

‘Surely she’s too young for that reference?’ I pause. ‘Evenwe’retoo young for that reference.’

Jemma looks tickled again. ‘I think the noughties are back. Haven’t you seen all the thin eyebrows and huge coin belts?’

‘God,don’t.’ I flop back onto the cushions again. ‘New York was full of people wearing chokers and slip dresses.’

Jemma pauses, looking sombre, before joining me on the sofa. ‘So you’re really done with New York? I thought you loved it over there. You always looked like you were having a blast.’ I stare down at my lap as she adds, ‘What’s made you decide to come back?’

I clear my throat then speak hurriedly. ‘It’s just the right time, y’know? I miss home, and I miss all of you.’ She looks sceptical at this but I keep going. ‘I was always going to come back at some point! I couldn’t spend the rest of my life hearing people saying herb and aluminium wrong. It’s time to move home and get my old life back together.’ I perk up, thinking about my bedroom upstairs, still adorned with the old posters and teddy bears. ‘Y’know, I’m actually really excited to stay with Mum for a bit.’ I pause, feeling misty-eyed. ‘I’ve lived away for so long, it’s just the thing we need to rebond. A bit of one-on-one time together, y’know? Plus, I can get to know Angela better, when she’s stayingover – and even get friendly with her vampire slayer kid. It’s going to be great!’

Beside me on the sofa, there is a chilly vibe emanating from Jemma. I try to read the atmosphere, without looking directly at her. She doesn’t like people looking directly at her, it’s too confrontational.

We haven’t always got on that well – I always say or do the wrong thing around Jim-Jems – but we’re adults now. I’m hoping things could be different with me being back in England. We’ll take it slow, but maybe we could finally be… well, probably not likenormaltwins; the kind of twins you see on telly who do everything together and are like mirror versions of each other – but at least, I dunno,friends?