Page 25 of Pride and Privilege

“But I don’t understand the reality of it.”

She drew back in on herself. “Why would you want to? Unless you have some kind of poverty porn fetish? Like those trust fund kids who go on slummy nights out just for the lolz andbantz.”

“No. Not at all.”

How could he explain that he was genuinely curious? That he wasn’t the sort of person who could be content with their own ignorance—at least, not once it had been pointed out? And also…if he was being honest, he’d always thought of himself as oneof the good guys. He wasn’t a spoilt rich boy. Except, he was beginning to realise perhaps he was.

How had Aubrey put it? He needed tocheck his privilege.

“I really want to know,” he told Poppy. “I think maybe…I haven’t been aware of quite how easy I’ve had it.”

“So you want to see how the other half lives?”

“Exactly.”

“You’d have toliveit to understand it.”

Which was when the idea popped into his head. And it was a really stupid idea, crazy even, and yet it took hold.

Maybe it was just because he hated the idea of Poppy leaving this room and going out into the night, travelling alone for miles to get back to a flat where she had nothing to eat and no breakfast to look forwards to the next day.

Maybe it was because he had watched the Christmas filmScroogedat an impressionable age and he hated the part where Bill Murray’s character finds the frozen body of Herman, the homeless guy he failed to help earlier. Because if Murray’s character had only tried a little harder, been a little kinder, then Herman might have lived. And the thought of leaving simple things undone haunted Roscoe.What if…?He always wondered.What if…?It was probably part of what kept him working late night after night, or setting his alarm for some ungodly hour of the morning to check the overnight markets.

Or maybe it was because he hated his ignorance and wanted to restore his pride.

Maybe it was because he knew his dad would hate the idea.

Maybe he wanted to finally prove to himself—to Poppy, the world—that he could do just fine without the trappings of wealth.

Maybe he hadn’t really slept in seventy-two hours and wasn’t thinking rationally.

Maybe he was just desperately, helplessly, endlessly curious about Poppy Fields.

Maybe it was because she had cried in his arms.

Maybe it was for all those reasons. Maybe people were chaotic and messy and never really knew why they did anything.

Maybe that’s why he said: “What if I did?”

“Did what?”

“Live it. Your life. What if we just…swapped lives?”

TWELVE

Poppy stared at Roscoe.He didn’t seem to have gone crazy or been possessed, but really, how could you tell?

His expression was eager, excited even. “Have you ever seen those life-swap TV shows? You know, the ones where the millionaire swaps places with a homeless guy?”

She laughed slightly. Awkwardly. “I’m not exactly homeless. Though given my flatmate, I sometimes wish I was.”

“Seriously,” Roscoe persisted. “You live in my flat. I’ll live in yours.”

She shook her head. “Why on earth…?”

“And I’ll live on your budget. I’ll do your commute. And you can sample my life. See how that feels.”

“I have no idea why you’re suggesting this. What do you get out of it?”

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