Page 48 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘Thank you, Annie, or they,’ Magda corrects herself, ‘believes completely that Lee and Nico are in a happy, stable marriage. To do this our entire community must work together, so this meeting today is for us to discuss exactly what that looks like.’

At this a dozen hands shoot up into the air.

‘Yes,’ Magda says, ‘Phil?’

Phil gets to his feet. ‘The Roseport Players stand with you,’ he says, and his throbbing tones lead me to believe that Art’s chivalry is contagious, particularly when the two of them exchange glances and then both pound their fists over their hearts in some sort of weird salute while bowing their heads at Lee.

After darting me another what-the-fuck? look, Lee gives a brief nod, which is the sort of vaguely royal gesture that has these idiots beaming with approval.

‘Who are the Roseport Players?’ Lee whispers out the side of her mouth as Phil continues talking.

‘Amateur dramatic theatre group,’ I murmur back.

‘Their extended performance of Chicago last year was surprisingly good,’ Miss Rita pipes up, and I wince, thinking about those four hours of my life that I’ll never get back.

‘We were wondering if we could devise some simple scenes within the group,’ Phil is saying, ‘small tableaus if you will, for our trustee to stumble across.’

Magda’s eyes narrow. ‘What sort of thing did you have in mind?’

‘A date night at Stefano’s?’ the woman next to Phil stands up. ‘We thought some of the players could go in undercover, and make subtle comments about what a nice couple they are in front of the trustee? Talk about our favourite memories of Lee from the past year.’

‘Casually of course,’ Phil adds earnestly, which is something. ‘But, you know, kinda loudly?’ he adds, which seems less promising.

‘I like it,’ Magda beams. ‘This is the kind of thinking we need.’

Buoyed by this success there are several more suggestions. Some – like including Lee in the local craft group – are small and manageable enough. Others – like having a plane fly daily over the town dragging a banner with mine and Lee’s faces on it are… less so.

‘I’ve been watching YouTube to learn about improvising,’ Phoebe says. ‘It’s important that you go along with whatever someone says to you. You have to say yes, and…’

Phil and company nod with approval. ‘Perhaps a small demonstration?’ Phil suggests.

‘Yes, and we’re in space!’ Phoebe exclaims, pointing a finger at him.

‘Yes, and my Quazon laser has malfunctioned!’ Phil hurls himself forward, clutching an imaginary gun.

‘Yes, and… Don’t worry, commander,’ adds Phyllis, the local florist, stepping gamely forward. ‘We have a battle-ready space cannon that shoots… um… green slime.’

‘Take that, alien scum!’ Mrs Kaminski yells and she looks a lot less sweet and innocent as she bathes in the imaginary blood of her enemy.

‘What… is happening?’ Lee whispers.

I scratch my jaw. ‘You just have to let them wear themselves out.’

Although, admittedly, the space opera playing out in front of us is a lot to take. Lee has lost her serene look and is now observing the scene through eyes rounded with shock. She’s gripping her phone like it’s some sort of life jacket.

‘I think that’s enough,’ I say finally, getting to my feet. I try to put as much authority behind the words as possible. ‘While Lee and I both appreciate your… enthusiasm, it’s best to keep things simple. If we do decide to go ahead with this, we just really need everyone to act… normal.’ I realise the futility of this suggestion at once.

‘Lee and I will pretend to be a couple, all we need is for you to act as if you’re used to seeing her around. Honestly,’ I can hear the desperation in my own voice, ‘that’s it.’ I slump back into my seat.

A chorus of unhappy mutterings greet this. ‘… no fun,’ I hear someone grumble.

‘Well, Nico,’ Magda says, ‘if that’s really what you think. Everyone here wants to support you and Phoebe, and Lee as well. After all, she’s part of the family now, too.’

There’s a murmur of agreement and Lee’s posture stiffens. Unthinkingly, I reach out to touch her knee.

Huge mistake. Her dress has ridden up and my palm unexpectedly meets warm skin covered in only a fine layer of silk. It’s like holding her hand multiplied by infinity.

I snatch my fingers back, like I’ve burned myself.