Page 83 of In the Same Boat

‘This was so thoughtful,’ Mum says, reaching across to squeeze my hand.

I do feel a little guilty… but why? Okay, so my feelings for Nico might not be real, and we didn’t strictly make every part of the dinner, but the great night was totally genuine.

Hank looks between Nico and me.

‘You make a good team,’ he tells us.

Nico’s knee brushes mine under the table. An accident, I think, unless it was a little victory nudge.

‘It’s a shame it wasn’t a romantic dinner for two, hmm?’ I prompt them. ‘If you two want more time alone, we could…’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Hank insists. ‘You two made this evening what it is.’

‘But you can get good food like that from a restaurant,’ Nico points out, keeping a straight face. ‘You must want some time alone…’

‘Honestly, I’m loving having you both with us,’ Mum says. ‘It’s such a beautiful moment, when you realise your kids are all grown up, that you can socialise with them like friends.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Hank says. ‘I’m proud of you, son. And, Sammie, you’re a credit to your mum.’

Hank turns to my mum and gives her a big smile.

So… let me get this straight… the plan hasn’t worked. In fact, if anything, it’s made them want to spend even more time with us. Shit.

Still, it’s hard not to smile. I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed myself too, even when it was just me and Nico – the move with the takeaway? Genius. I got a real buzz out of the two of us getting away with it.

I guess he’s not all bad… but it’s back to the drawing board as far as the plan goes.

19

NICO

Playing happy families is the only way to describe this evening. Emphasis on the word playing.

It’s like being in a weird simulation, Sammie and I acting like a couple, cooking dinner for our parents – admittedly, it didn’t go all that well, but look how well we worked together. We got the evening back on track. And now here we are, the two of us, tucked up in bed like an old married couple.

There’s something strangely domestic about it all. Stranger still, I don’t hate it.

‘Well,’ she says to the ceiling, ‘that was a lot.’

I turn onto my side, resting my head on my hand.

‘A lot of fun,’ I reply. ‘I thought you said you could cook.’

‘I thought you said you had a perfect fire safety record…’

I can’t help but laugh.

‘Yeah, I guess I’ll have to take that one off my Matcher profile,’ I joke – not that I’m on Matcher. No thank you – never again.

‘Well, I don’t think it would stop me swiping right if a man didn’t mention his fire safety record, so you might be okay,’ she replies.

‘Are you much of a swiper?’ I can’t resist asking.

She shakes her head.

‘No – well… I have, in the past,’ she corrects herself. ‘I’ll go on, swipe a bunch, get some underwhelming messages, go on a couple of even more underwhelming dates. But it always builds to a point – a moment, where I spot someone who is married, someone sends me a dodgy pic I didn’t ask for, someone says something in person that offends me to my core. And then I swear off it – delete my account, uninstall the app, never again.’

I smile because that sounds so familiar.