Page 69 of The Lucky Escape

‘I love it,’ Patrick said, unpacking croissants and Nutella from his tote. I smiled. That tote had been all the way around the world with us, and now all the way to my kitchen – which he was in for the first time. ‘You look like Winona Ryder before she started to steal stuff.’

‘Excellent cultural reference,’ I quipped, instinctively reaching up to smooth a hand over my newly naked collar. He leaned in for a kiss, something we did every few minutes, a reminder to ourselves that that was a thing we could do in England as well as back in Aus. The novelty of it hadn’t worn off. We were all over each other, and it took the length of half a pastry and a mouthful of orange juice before we had sex on the sofa. Twice.

He stayed all day, helping me batch cook some chilli for the week and hanging out my laundry upstairs, just to be helpful. I loved it. It felt like the right place for him to be. As I predicted though, I crashed by early afternoon and we both fell asleep in front of theEastEndersomnibus and didn’t wake up until it was dark outside.

He came over every night after that. We were both jet-lagged with wonky body clocks adjusting to the northern hemisphere, so it was a takeaway or a bit of Netflix and chill that got cut off at 8.30 p.m. His place was exactly eleven minutes on foot from mine, so where I’d had friends tell horror stories about trying to keep relationships across the city alive when it was ninety minutes door to door via public transport, being neighbours was yet another thing we seemed to have going in our favour.

Unlike him, I wasn’t due back at work for another few days, so used the time in between laundry cycles and napsto google things likecan I change my job at thirty-two?andhow much should I have in savings to change careers?I found some information evenings for counselling courses that I bookmarked and went back to look at periodically, each time feeling braver about signing up for one.Maybe I really can find a job I love,I dared to start imagining.

As the emptiness of the house whilst Patrick was at work echoed around me, I also started to think about where I’d live next. I made a spreadsheet of my savings, fixed outgoings, and looked over what I normally spent in a month. I’d have to axe most of my luxuries immediately – no more ten-class passes to bootcamp, or expensive lowlights, or even brunches and cocktails. It was embarrassing to see in black and white how much money I’d gotten used to throwing away on frivolities. That had to stop. I’d way overspent in Australia, too – I’d embraced the YOLO attitude a bittoomuch.

I signed into my pension provider but knew I’d be crazy to touch that cash. I needed to figure out a way to find an affordable flat as soon as possible, preferably not in Zone 7 and still near all the people I loved and who loved me, which also happened to be in one of the most expensive cities in the world. I supposed that in the absolute worst-case scenario I could move in with Mum and Dad south of the river for a while, but God – the week they’d spent in the house after the wedding-that-wasn’t had been maddening enough. That would have to be Plan B – or, rather, Plan Z. Adzo and the Core Four were out of the question, since nobody had any space anyway.

I set up some alerts for any new listings going live, and tried to avoid even considering moving into a flat-share. I didn’t want to put that out in the universe; it would feel like a step back after everything that had happened. Therehadto be another way. Everything I came up with, though, seemed to indicate that even if I did want to retrain in something, or take a career break, I basically couldn’t afford it. Still. I didn’t want to get greedy – like Patrick had said, plenty of people didn’tlovetheir work. I told myself that as long as I had my health, my friends and family – and Patrick himself – that was more than enough.

I still kept checking for information evenings, though. I couldn’t help it. The thought had burrowed itself deep in my head.

‘We’ll figure something out,’ Patrick assured me when I brought it up in bed. My boss, Chen, had texted asking to meet up for a coffee before I started back, and it had put the willies up me. Adzo said I had nothing to worry about, but suddenly I was worried I’d end up losing my job anyway, somehow. Chen had never asked me for a coffee before – I wondered if I was going to get a talking-to, because she could tell somehow that my heart wasn’t in it anymore.

‘I won’t see you on the streets – put it that way,’ Patrick continued. ‘Worst-case scenario, you can bunk up with me for a bit, okay?’

‘Crikey,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t do that. You’d get so sick of me!’

He shrugged. ‘It’s cool,’ he replied. ‘We know we can spend twenty-four hours a day together. The option is there.’

Mum would have a fit if I moved in with Patrick, even if it was temporary. It was one thing coming home with a boyfriend, but living with him? No way.

‘Are yousureyou want to meet my family tomorrow?’ I pressed, for the third time. ‘They’re bonkers. You really don’t have to. I can pick up the dog alone and meet you after.’

He pulled me in close, my night-time nakedness pressed up against his.

‘Are you ashamed of me?’ he asked, jokingly.

‘I’m nervous they’ll spot your cargo shorts in the holiday snaps,’ I quipped back. ‘I’ve got my reputation to think about.’

‘What’s wrong with my cargo shorts?’

I sniggered. ‘Nothing … if you’re planning on joining an All Saints tribute band.’

‘Rude!’ He laughed.

I shrugged, as if the truth couldn’t be denied.

‘Iwantto meet them, anyway,’ he declared. ‘I promise you, parents love me. I’m very wholesome to mums. I’m like boyfriend catnip.’

‘Hmmmm,’ I said, my tummy lurching. ‘Just … don’t take it personally if she doesn’t. It’s me she doesn’t like, remember.’

‘I hate that she makes you feel that way, Annie. I really do.’

‘You’ll love Freddie, though.’ I didn’t want his pity. New Annie wasn’t for pitying, if she could help it. ‘You’ll get on like a house on fire.’

‘I look forward to it,’ he said, and my heart beat in double time at what was to come. I couldn’t hide Patrick away forever though, could I? And anyway. It was time I stood up to Mum, once and for all. Worrying about her was boring, at best, and downright debilitating at worst.

‘Goodnight,’ I said, switching off the light.

In the darkness his voice echoed again: ‘I meant what I said. You really can stay with me if you want.’

I kissed him instead of verbalizing a reply.

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