‘But you don’t want to have kids.’
‘Well … probably not. But you never know. If the right girl comes along.’
‘Are you feeling okay?’ I ask. ‘I thought you never wanted to settle down.’
‘Let’s talk business.’ Freddy takes a seat opposite and gives me serious eyes. ‘First, project marriage. I only have one thing to say about that. For fucks’s sake, don’t start seeing Chris again.’
‘I won’t. You know I blocked his number.’
‘Yes, but you sat up late talking to him.’
‘You and I stayed up late talking too,’ I point out. ‘Talking doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s what friends do.’
‘Yeah.’ Freddy looks awkward. ‘But you should still stay away from Chris.’
‘Even if he’s got a job now and is committed to self-improvement?’ I twiddle up a fork of pasta. ‘Can’t we still be friends? We have so much history –’
‘Darling, I’m telling you. He’s bad news.’
‘Are you okay? You’re acting … stressed.’
‘I just want to make sure you get the best outcome as quickly as possible. Chris will mess you around. Throw you off track.’
‘A few months ago, I would have agreed with you,’ I say. ‘But now, Chris does seem different –’
‘IT’S NEVER DIFFERENT WITH MEN LIKE HIM!’ Freddy’s voice booms across the courtyard and three pigeons take flight.
I remain calm. ‘Okay, fine. You’ve made your point. No friendship with Chris. Let’s change the subject. Do you know that Ahmet is taking me on an ecological balloon ride after Frankfurt?’
‘There’s no such thing as an ecological balloon ride,’ says Freddy. ‘A hot-air balloon will be an environmental burden, even if it’s fuelled by pigeon shit.’
‘Well, it isn’t fuelled by pigeon shit,’ I snap. ‘It will be a lovely experience. And you’ve put me right off the tiramisu.’
We eat in silence for a moment. Then Freddy says, ‘Maybe this isn’t the best time to mention the other good news.’
‘Probably not.’
‘But I have to mention it. It’s time specific.’ Freddy sighs. ‘Penguin Random House agreed to meet you at the Frankfurt Book Fair. To talk about a European distribution deal.’
I pause, torn between shovelling delicious lasagne into my mouth and leaving my mouth open for dramatic effect.
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ Freddy gives me a proud smile. ‘You and only you. A multi-millionaire like me isn’t good enough.’
‘When am I meeting them?’
‘The first day. At noon. Just think. You could win a European distribution deal in the morning, and then European Small Press of the Year in the evening.’
‘Life is never that good.’ I grab a piece of focaccia. ‘There’s no way it will be both. But either of those things are fine.’
‘Kat.’ Freddy sounds sad. ‘Life can be everything you want it to be. It really, truly can. But if you aim for mediocre, that’s what you’ll get.’
‘I wouldn’t say I aim for mediocre –’
‘Oh really? Who came up with the nameLittle Voice?’
‘Well … me,’ I admit.