Page 140 of Almost Ours

“Yeah, a bit too fucking much.”

A huge smile takes over my face. “You’re a bit of a soppy tart, aren’t you?”

Josh groans. “Don’t call me that.”

“You are. Secret playlists, fourteen presents, Googling how far away I live…” I flick my fingers off the wheel one at a time as I count. “You’re basically one grand gesture away from asking for my hand in marriage.”

“Don’t push it, Rubes. Or I’m taking back the presents.”

“You can’t. They’re mine now.”

“I’ll nick them while you’re asleep.”

“I’ll sleep on top of them.”

He turns towards me, looking far too entertained by that. “All fourteen?”

“Yep.”

“You’ll be uncomfortable.”

“I’ll suffer for bought goods.”

Josh laughs, proper and unguarded, and the sound hits me right in the middle of the chest. “You’re such a knob.”

“But you’re the one who likes me, right?”

He goes quiet, enough for me to look over at him and there’s the tiniest smile on his face. “Yeah, Rubes. You’re my favourite person.”

“That’s good.” I beam. “Because you’re mine too.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Friday

December 18th 2015

Joshua:

The gates to my parents’ house open before I’ve even reached them, recognising the car as I turn off the road and start up the drive. I had Ruby drop me at Ewan’s instead of bringing me all the way here, mostly because I couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing this place, meeting my parents, or getting even the slightest glimpse of what home is actually like for me.

She’d already tricked me into meeting her mum before she dropped me off anyway.

I’d thought we were stopping at hers for five minutes so she could grab something. Instead, I ended up wedged around a tiny kitchen table in a three-bedroom council flat while her mum piled shepherd’s pie onto my plate like I hadn’t eaten in a week. The place was cramped and loud and stuffy, every surface covered in something, photos on the fridge, mugs hanging beneath cupboards, washing draped over a radiator, Oscar taking the piss out of the amount of food his mum had given me while Ruby joined in and told her to stop trying to fatten me up.

Ruby and Oscar spent the whole time mocking her for fussing, but neither of them meant it. You could tell. The three of them bickered over each other, interrupted constantly, stole food from one another’s plates and somehow managed to make that tiny kitchen feel fuller than this entire house ever has.

There was something almost unbearable about sitting there and watching a family like each other that openly. No awkwardness. No waiting for someone to say the wrong thing. Ruby’s mum touched her shoulder every time she passed behind her, and Ruby kept kicking me beneath the table whenever her mum asked me another question about uni.

The house comes into view through the trees a few seconds later, massive and grey against the winter sky, all tall windows and pale stone and more rooms than three people could ever have any use for. Mum has had someone put the Christmas lights up, white bulbs running along the roof and wrapping neatly around the columns at the front, every tree beside the drive lit from underneath so the whole place looks like one of those houses people slow down to stare at.

It should feel festive, but nothing about this place ever does anymore.

Mum’s car is parked in its usual spot, so I pull in beside it and kill the engine, staying put with both hands wrapped around the steering wheel while the cold slowly creeps through the windows. There was a time when coming back here didn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out and slam my head into a wall, but those memories feel faded now, shoved so far back they barely seem real anymore.

The ones with James are going the same way and

I’m scared that one day I’ll only remember he existed.