“Isn’t it carbs that are meant to do that?” I said. Although I didn’t care either way. Eager to accept the offering, I’d have taken sweet over savoury any day of the week.
Annie placed my drink in front of me and set the empty tray to one side.
“I’m ready for this,” I said, picking up my accompanying spoon and scooping up a mouthful of cream from my drink.
“Me too,” Annie replied.
I sat there pensive, trying to decide how best to approach the subject of Fin. Annie looked tired which made me reluctant to dive straight in and tell her she had to find Fin alternative living arrangements. Wanting to tread carefully, I thought it best to take a more casual approach and work up to it. “So how come you were late in today?” I asked.
“Oh, don’t.” Annie came over all animated, throwing herself back in her seat and waving her hands around as if glad of the opportunity to get everything off her chest. “You won’t believe the morning I’ve had. All thanks to that offspring of mine.”
I smiled at the nameless reference to her daughter. It reminded me of Mum. To that day, whenever Vee or I did anything wrong, as Mum outlined our misdemeanours to Dad we weren’t described as their children, we became his and his alone.
“First, she uses up all the shampoo, so when I get in the shower I can’t even wash my hair. Then I get in the car and she’s used up most of the petrol.” Annie peeled away the paper that encased her muffin. “Not that I realised. Which is why the bloody thing came to a standstill halfway into work. So guess who had to walk the rest of the way?”
My heart went out to Annie as I imagined her, red-nosed and shivering, trudging through the cold, cursing her daughter with every step. I felt guilty in the knowledge that I was about to make her day more difficult, even if I was trying to choose the right moment. “I bet that sorted out the cobwebs,” I said.
“That’s one way of putting it.” She picked up her knife and began cutting her cake in half and then half again. “Honestly, the sooner she moves back in with that boyfriend of hers, the better.”
Offering me just the inroad I needed, I opened my mouth to ask when that might be, but before I got the chance, Annie started speaking again.
“It obviously wasn’t enough that I’d spent the whole weekend picking up after her.”
I watched on as Annie’s muffin cutting became more aggressive, the more she talked.
“Two outfits she wore yesterday. Two! And did she hang the first one back up or put it in the washing basket after changing? Oh, no. She dropped it in the middle of the landing so muggins here could sort out where it went.”
I was tempted to tell Annie about how I was serenaded with a Christmas carol at the crack of dawn that morning. I wanted to see Annie her pile of clothes and raise her the half-naked man I’d found on my landing. But thanks to her disposition and the knife in her hand, I thought better of it.
Annie paused to look at me. Her tangerine and marzipan muffin looked like it had been hung, drawn, and quartered. “You don’t realise how much you appreciate your own space until it’s invaded, do you?”
I wanted to seize the opportunity and tell her I knew exactly how she felt. I wanted to say my friend was lucky, because she hadn’t had to wedge a chair under her bedroom door handle for fear of being murdered in her sleep. I wanted to highlight the fact that when it came to Emma, at least there was no chance of Annie’s kitchen being commandeered, and that while Annie’s daughter might infuriate her, Emma wasn’t someone whom Annie knew nothing about.
“Thank goodness she’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I said, trying not to come across as quite so eager.
“The day after that at the latest.”
“So, two days from now?” Any relief I’d felt began to fade.
“She hasn’t left him for good. She can’t have. Not over lasagne,” Annie said.
“No. She definitely can’t have done that.” I was trying to reassure myself as much as I was my friend. But it seemed Annie didn’t have a clue about when her daughter would be heading back to her own house and I felt panic at having a stranger in mine.
Annie’s mobile phone bleeped from inside her bag. “This will be her now,” she said, as she began rooting for it. “I know it will.”
I watched her face tighten as she read the message.
“What normal person wants ice cream in the middle of winter?” Annie lifted her gaze to look at me. “Can you believe she wants me to pick some up on my way home from work.”
Knowing Emma, yes, I could.
“Like that’s going to happen.” Annie slung her phone back in her bag, the woman’s despair on show for all to see. “I could swear she does these things on purpose just to get at me.” She took a deep breath as if trying to rid herself of her stress. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to whinge. I’ll shut up now.”
I tried to raise a smile. “Not on my account, I hope,” I said, any opportunity to discuss Fin’s presence in my house fast disappearing.
“No, I mean it. Enough about me and my misery. Let’s talk about what’s going on with you. Have you managed to sort out another holiday?”
