Page 10 of You Belong With Me

‘One last thing, Edie. In case it wasn’t clear, I will leave it to your discretion whether you want to confirm to yourcolleagues that you’re stepping out with Marlon Nando’s. Speak soon.’

After they rung off, Edie had a notion to check her Instagram followers to see if this guy had been curious about her. Yep, there he was: Declan Dunne, or @dunneonthewold. She hadn’t recognised him to follow him back, and she remedied this now, thinking she had to be positive at the outset if they were soon going to be at close quarters.

She scrolled his profile. He was tall, attractive in an unkempt way, and good-natured to an extent that it transmitted through the lens. He looked like the result of DNA splicing Fred and Shaggy inScooby-Doo. A mere four pictures ago, last Bonfire Night, was a photo of a grinning Declan proudly brandishing a sausage in tongs at a barbecue. Her new nemesis Jessica was wrapped round his waist, one of her hands making a peace sign. Edie twinged.You like peace, do you? Not much of a peacenik as far as I’m concerned.

The caption made it clear that Declan was a good enough friend to hang out at her house.

They were affectionate in the comments, too.

Aww. Love you, Dunny! King of the Cumberland Ring!xxx

Great to see you all! xx

Ye gads. Jessica had her husband still entirely Insta-visible within the last six months, so she doubted their bond wasromantic, but fact remained that Edie’s Eden might have a snake problem.

No way had Jessica not warned Declan off working with Edie. If so, why didn’t he heed it? It pretty much had to be a spying mission. Even if it wasn’t intended as such, it might possibly turn into one.

She blocked Jess and set her Instagram to private. Gesture politics: there were still plenty who could pass her material if they wanted to, but Edie felt it necessary to make it clear to Jessicashe knew.

It had been such brilliant news, and now this.

The high low.

5

They assembled at the gates of Wollaton Hall’s majestic deer park in a sub-zero temperature, Hannah using the what3words app to share the precise location:salt.metro.bounty.

Last time Edie was here, she was being summoned by the director of Elliot’s then-drama to explain why he’d gone briefly AWOL from the set. Said director was certain Elliot was busy between the sheets with his ghost-writer; in fact he’d gone into hiding after the news broke that he was adopted. At the time, Edie had thought the notion he’d be interested in her in that way was humiliatingly preposterous.

‘I always thought that what3words app was for people who’d been abducted?’ Nick said. ‘I wish someone would abduct me. Whose thoroughly dipshitted idea was this, anyway?’

He shuddered into the Liberty print scarf wound in the collar of his coat. Nick loved clothes far more than either of his female best friends did, so it was three-quarter length wool with a houndstooth pattern. He looked clad for a first date somewhere smart, not trailing around a field.

It had taken Edie until now to replace her tatty tartan parka with something spendy in tailored navy with toggles.

‘Mine. A Boxing Day walk has always been my family tradition!’ Hannah said.

‘Inherited generational trauma,’ Nick replied. ‘I notice both girlfriends made excuses.’ He looked to Elliot. ‘Idiot.’

Elliot military saluted him. ‘Look, let’s be real – I want to get laid.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Nick pulled the vape pen from his mouth. ‘I thought we were going on awalk.’

Elliot had been there first when Edie arrived, his dark head bowed as he stared at his phone.

‘Hey, the app actually calls the house Wayne Manor – playful,’ Elliot had said in greeting, looking from handset to gesture behind him, up the hill at the Grade I Elizabethan stately home that had doubled as Batman’s mansion.

Edie had a teenaged shiver of delight that he’d turned up:ooh that’s my boyfriendinnocence that was Class A spiked withthat’s literally Elliot Owen.

You’d be saying yes to Elliot.His fame felt like a greater obstacle to her than to him. That was unexpected, but then he had been living with his double-identity imposter-self for years and Edie for only months. He’d sought it; the spotlight had landed on her by chance.

Last time around, she’d perceived a shift in how she thought of him as familiarity grew: eventually he became someone she knew who was also famous, as opposed to a famous person she knew.

Their time apart had affected that a little. They were no longer in the bubble where he was making a show set in this city and they had regular work-dates for her to transcribe keypassages from his history. He’d been away and done freshly impressive things, and Edie needed to acclimatise again.

Meg joined them last, cheeks coloured from having rushed, her blue scrubs covered by a brown teddy-bear coat that Edie had got her for Christmas.

‘Sorry, sorry! I’ve never got that bus before – it took ages.’

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