Page 82 of In the Same Boat

I laugh awkwardly.

‘Anyways, enjoy your starters, Nico and I are finishing up the main, so we’ll eat ours in there,’ I lie.

‘What are we having?’ Mum asks.

That’s a very fucking good question, because I have no idea until I see what Nico returns with.

‘Wait and see,’ I say mysteriously.

I head back inside as the other door opens. Nico appears carrying a large serving platter of grilled fish and roasted vegetables – arranged so beautifully that we would do well to move it over to one of our plates and rough it up a little.

‘Life saver,’ I tell him. ‘This looks amazing.’

‘Come on, let’s get it out there, before it goes cold,’ he replies.

He looks warm too, probably from running – I hope Hank doesn’t say anything, because I know where his mind is.

‘Dinner is served,’ Nico announces as he places the plate down in the centre of the table.

Hank gives him a knowing look but doesn’t say anything.

‘It looks lovely,’ Mum says. ‘But, do we have knives? We only have forks and spoons.’

‘Sorry, my bad, I got distracted,’ Nico says. ‘The spoons are for dessert – I’ll get the knives.’

‘Distracted, eh?’ Hank calls after him.

I criiiinge.

But… you know what? It’s worked. We all sit down together and eat. Mum and Hank compliment the food, Nico and I joke around together, bounce off each other, up the cuteness.

Is this pivoted plan actually going to work? Because it seems like it.

‘This really is delicious,’ Mum says.

‘Thank you,’ I reply.

‘It was all Sammie,’ Nico says, squeezing my hand above the table. ‘She smashed it.’

‘I knew it wouldn’t have been you,’ Hank says with a laugh.

‘Actually, Nico made a great sous-chef,’ I inform him. ‘Turns out, in the kitchen, we come together nicely.’

The second the words leave my lips I realise my mistake.

Mum clears her throat.

‘That’s what I was worried about,’ Hank replies. ‘So long as you wash your hands…’

Sooo awkward. But, if it’s working, I can stomach it for a little longer.

Against all odds, it’s going great. Everyone seems happy, comfortable (or pretending they are, in my and Nico’s case).

The food is great – as it should be; a chef made it – the conversation is flowing, Nico is keeping the glasses topped up. We’re actually having a great time which… Is that part of the plan? They’re supposed to have a good time, but they’re supposed to want us to leave them to it.

Nico has his hand on the back of my neck. He’s massaging me and, truly, it feels amazing. I’m a little tense from the cooking, and the stressing, but his touch is so soothing. I can’t help but lean into it, and the weirdest thing is how natural it feels, how okay I am with his hands on me now. The lying is coming so easily now too – even I forget when I’m bullshitting and when I’m serious.

One thing that is definitely very real is our teamwork. Yeah, okay, we make chaos together, but we put things right too. Neither of us alone could have pulled off the dinner switcheroo. I buried the bodies, and he secured our cover story. We nailed it.