Page 60 of Love, Accidentally

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‘Natasha tells me you have a new young man in tow,’ Mum says down the phone. ‘When are we going to meet him?’

‘He’s not “in tow”, Mum. We’re just friends.’

‘That’s what she said you’d say, but I have a mother’s instinct for these things.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a thing.’

‘Of course it is. It was the same with Greg. I remember saying to Andy and your father that he was the one for Natasha the first time I met him.’

‘Umm, Mum. I was there, remember? I distinctly remember you saying he was altogether too smooth and you didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him.’

‘I didn’t. I’ve always loved Greg. Anyway, the point is that I was right about him and I’m sure I’m right about this young man of yours too. What’s his name?’

‘Will,’ I tell her with a sigh.

‘So you admit it? I knew it! Oh, darling, I’m so excited for you.’

‘Mum,’ I begin firmly. ‘Me telling you his name doesn’t mean we’re seeing each other. It just means I know who you’re talking about.’

‘Yes, but you had a funny tone in your voice when you said his name. Say it again.’

‘Will.’

‘See?’

‘No.’

‘You sounded wistful.’

‘And you’re imagining things.’

‘It’s not just me. Natasha agrees with me.’

‘Then you’re both delusional. There’s nothing going on. We’re just friends.’

‘But you want more.’

‘Let it go, Mum.’

‘You could bring him at Christmas.’

‘Mum!’

‘OK, OK. Have it your way, darling. I’ll factor him in for Boxing Day, just in case.’

There’s no reasoning with Mum when she’s like this, so I grit my teeth and let her chatter on. The thing that riles me most is that Will has occupied a surprising amount of my headspace ever since our day out with Isaac. I haven’t seen him since as I was working the Sunday afterwards, but I’m heading over there for lunch as soon as I’ve finished talking to Mum, and I’m trying very hard to convince myself that the feeling in the pit of my stomach is nothing more than anticipation of one of Jonathan’s fabulous roasts. I’ve run all sorts of scenarios through my mind to try to figure out what the reason for Will suddenly closing down might be and, although I haven’t yet come up with anything plausible, I think I’ve managed to rule out any major red flags. My plan today is to try to get Jonathan to open up a little more with some gentle questioning.

‘What are you wearing?’ Mum asks, bringing me back to earth with a bump.

‘For what?’ I daren’t admit that I’ve tuned out the last few minutes of the conversation.

‘For lunch with Will,’ she says, as if it were completely obvious. ‘You need to make a bit of an effort, darling. You can be quite pretty when you try.’

‘I haven’t really thought about it,’ I tell her, electing to let the not-so-subtle jibe pass me by.

‘Really, Matilda, you do make me despair sometimes. If you want to catch this boy, you need to set out your stall. Show him what a prize you are.’

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