This Could Change Everything(61)

That had been what Belinda had told him anyway. He wasn’t accustomed to coping with teenagers, but under the circumstances it made sense.

Meanwhile, Caz was still waiting for an answer. Conor sighed. ‘Yes, it’s because of Evie.’

‘Knew it.’ Caz took a pack of chewing gum out of her bra and popped a piece into her mouth. ‘Bit of a contraceptive, having her there within earshot. Am I right?’

He nodded.

‘So that’s why she’s sleeping over at my place tonight. It’s all arranged. Let’s hope you’ve got your lucky pants on, eh? Because it’s all going to happen at last!’

‘I . . . you can’t . . .’ spluttered Conor, lost for words.

‘I know, I’m brilliant. First I sorted out your barren wasteland of a love life, and now I’m fixing your sex life too. Just call me your fairy godmother.’

She was a nightmare. But undeniably a practical one. With reluctance, Conor overcame his dismay and realised he needed to give in with good grace. She’d solved their problem for them and he was going to have to be grateful; it was only fair.

‘Thank you,’ he said dutifully.

‘Thank you, Fairy Godmother,’ Caz instructed.

‘Thank you, Fairy Godmother.’

‘Say: “You’re amazing and beautiful and thoughtful and generous.”’

He smiled. ‘That’s stretching it a bit.’

‘OK, well give me a kiss then.’ Caz leaned forward and tapped the side of her face.

Conor kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’re not as bad as you like to make out, are you?’

‘I’d say I was bloody fantastic, seeing as I’ve now got the human contraceptive staying at my place.’ She shook her head. ‘Which means I won’t be taking anyone home with me tonight. On my birthday.’

The rain had stopped, thankfully, by the time they left the pub and made their way back on foot to Limes Avenue. It was almost midnight but that didn’t deter Caz from singing ‘Single Ladies’ and clattering along in her heels, doing her Beyoncé impression.

‘Come on.’ She grabbed Belinda’s hand. ‘You’re still single too. He hasn’t put a ring on it yet.’

As the two of them danced ahead down the road, Evie fell into step beside Conor. ‘I’m staying at Caz’s tonight, did you know?’

‘I think she mentioned it.’ Conor nodded casually.

In the glow of an orange street lamp, Evie tilted her head in order to peer up at his expression. ‘And was she . . . subtle?’

‘Not so you’d notice, no.’

‘Oh well. It was nice of her to think of it, though, wasn’t it?’

‘I . . . suppose so.’ Of all the excruciatingly awkward conversations to be having with a sixteen-year-old. Conor moved sideways to avoid a puddle.

‘Belinda really likes you. It’s been great seeing her this happy these last couple of weeks.’

‘Well, that’s good.’

‘And Caz says even older people like you and Belinda still like to have sex sometimes,’ Evie said brightly. ‘So that’s why I’m staying over at hers.’

In the darkness, the next puddle caught Conor unawares and was deep enough to slosh over the top of his shoe.

The next morning, Conor had set the alarm on his phone to go off at seven. Which was just as well, since at two minutes past, a message arrived on Belinda’s phone, accompanied by a blast of Beyoncé.

Belinda’s eyes were still closed. ‘That’s a text from Caz.’

‘Who’d have thought?’

‘Can you reach my phone?’

It was sitting on the shabby-chic white chest of drawers on his side of the bed. Conor really hadn’t meant to look at the text, but the words on the lit-up screen kind of jumped out at him:

Morning! Marks out of ten?? Hope he doesn’t have a teeny weeny peeny! Xx

‘What’s wrong?’ said Belinda when he spluttered with indignation.

‘I can’t believe you’re friends with her.’ He angled the screen so she could read the text. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll reply to this one.’

He typed:

Best ever. 20/10. Quite the opposite of teeny.

‘I’m not sure I agree,’ said Belinda as he pressed Send.

‘You don’t?’

‘I don’t.’ She curled her arm around his neck and brushed a kiss against his mouth. ‘Twenty-five out of ten, at least. Maybe even thirty.’

He laughed and drew her warm naked body closer. In no time, the phone lit up once more:

Ha, let me guess. Conor wrote that.

‘What did I tell you?’ said Belinda. ‘She’s always right.’

Forty minutes later, he was ready to leave the house. Belinda clung to him. ‘I wish you didn’t have to go. If only we could both take the day off work and just stay here together.’

‘But sadly we have jobs,’ Conor reminded her.

‘I know. And at least it’s Friday, so we’ve got the weekend ahead. I can’t wait for you to meet Annette and Bill on Sunday – you’re going to love them!’

Ah. He’d got distracted last night by Caz’s interrogation in the skittle alley, and then by the subsequent arrangements for the rest of the night. ‘Damn, I forgot to tell you. That call I had to take yesterday at the pub was from Zillah. I’m not going to be able to make it on Sunday after all – she needs me to help her that afternoon.’