Page 70 of The Lucky Escape

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I was right about Freddie and Patrick: they got on like Patrick had been part of the family for years. I’d spent a lifetime second-guessing my own judgement, but I’d never for a single moment doubted Freddie’s. She was like a sniffer dog for good intentions. Hearing them talk so easily warmed my heart.

‘And so now,’ Freddie concluded, halfway through an anecdote about a pupil-teacher stand-off she’d spearheaded at school, playing Mum’s hostess-in-training and carefully handing Patrick a beer, ‘they said they’re going to officially review school policy on it. Mum told me that I was making a big fuss out of nothing and not to make a name for myself as a troublemaker, but Dad came into my room and told me not to listen to her and to do what I thought was right. But I obviouslywasright because they’re going to change it. So I hope Mum will say sorry.’

She hadn’t taken a breath since we’d arrived, and Patrick indulged her friendliness fervently.

‘Wow,’ he said, genuinely impressed. ‘That’s … badass.’ He swiftly turned and looked at me. ‘Wait. Can I say badass?’

I nodded. ‘If that’s what it is,’ I answered.

Freddie beamed at him, satisfied at his compliment, and the fact that he’d used a ‘grown-up’ word to articulate it.

‘It really is badass,’ I told her, Carol happily snuggled into my lap, thrilled to be reunited. ‘You’re so brave, Froogle. It’s much easier to keep the status quo than to challenge things, especially in big institutions like schools.’

‘What’s status quo?’

‘Oh, um, where people keep things as they’ve always been, because change can be scary.’

‘Dad says the only constant is change.’

I smiled. ‘He’s not wrong.’

Patrick caught my eye. ‘A lot of good stuff can come from change,’ he noted, and Freddie looked between us as we looked at each other. It was almost painful to sit across the room from him – if I was around him, I wanted to have his hand on my leg or the lower part of my back. I wanted his physicality. Needed it, almost – but I knew it would only confuse things if we were too overt with our affections. I tore my gaze away from his and back to my little sister. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. I ignored the curiosity in her face.

‘Do you want to see the holiday photos?’ I asked.

She realized I wasn’t going to engage.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Go on then. Mum says Australia is too far to go for a family holiday, but Mia’s big sister is in Australia on a gap year and Mia says that we should go when we graduate. She said her sister works in an almond factory and shares a house with eleven other people! She says it’s so good, like one big party, all the time, and they hardly ever go to sleep or even eat a lot of vegetables because nobody tells them what to do.’

The thought of eleven people in a house-share reminded me of my own living situation. When Jo had first moved to London, she’d rented a room in a converted warehouse up near Seven Sisters, and lasted five days before she left for a three-bed with two teachers down the road, a place that she’d originally thought she was too cool for. Turned out the homegrown weed and constant queue for the bathroom weren’t for her. They wouldn’t be for me, either. My anxiety about where to live was increasing. I didn’t want to feel like I was regressing in my life. Not when in so many other ways I’d leapt forwards.

‘Scoot over then,’ I said to Freddie, trying to focus on the moment instead of my impending problem.

Patrick leant over from his spot on the floor to ruffle Carol’s ears, waking her so that she hopped down to accept a doggy tickle from him, instead. He chatted easily with Dad as I pulled out my phone for Freddie. I could hear him asking about winter-flowering heather and if he knew much about what could add some colour to his patio at this time of year. Dad found him easy company, too. I could tell.

I told Freddie: ‘I won’t show you all of the photos, Frou, because that’s boring, but you can get the official highlight selection.’

‘’Kay. I’ll let you know when I’ve zoned out.’

I laughed. ‘Deal.’

We flicked through sunsets and kangaroos and the stuff with the stingray. I told her some of the better, more adventurous stories like the road trip and music festival and she asked lots of questions about what we ate, which I was happy to recall in almost shockingly clear detail. Then she said, as easily as she might enquire as to a new nail colour: ‘So is Patrick your new boyfriend?’

Patrick looked up at the sound of his name, and Mum froze at the doorway where she was carrying a bowl of olives and toothpicks. She’d stayed out of the way under the guise of prepping lunch in the kitchen, but I knew she was put out by Patrick’s presence. I also knew she’d spoken to Fernanda whilst I was away, and was mad Fernanda had known more than she did about my travel companion. I could have gone to see if she was okay, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to walk into her emotional trap of guilt-tripping me in hushed tones, out of the way of others. I didn’t want to give her the chance to ruin my happiness.

Dad squinted at Mum, slyly slipping his eye across to me, knowing my response would shape the mood of our imminent dining experience – which didn’t seem fair, really. If Mum had spent even five minutes with us in the lounge as we’d all chatted, she wouldn’t feel so much like he was a stranger. I could have made her feel more comfortable, and established some more common ground. Shewantedto have an attitude. But this wasn’t about her.

I looked from Patrick, to Dad, to Mum, and then back to Freddie. ‘Yes,’ I said, deciding in an instant that overexplaining would have worse consequences than keeping it simple and direct. ‘He is.’

Patrick shot me a pleased smile with a wink, and carried on with Carol’s belly rub.

‘And I’m very happy about it,’ I added.

‘Good,’ Freddie stated, and she gave me a pleased smile too. She leaned in to whisper, ‘I really like him, Annie-Doo. And Carol does. Look.’

It was true: the dog was putty in his hands.

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