Love Your Life(58)

    “Glad you think it’s funny,” I say morosely.

“Sorry,” says Sarika, calming down. “But honestly, Ava, you do get into situations.”

“What about this ex-girlfriend?” says Nell, her eyes narrowing. “Is she an issue?”

“Dunno. There are two ex-girlfriends, actually. Or maybe three. But it’s Genevieve who works for the family company. And his parents love her.”

“Well, sod his parents,” says Nell robustly. “Ignore them. Refuse to engage, if they can’t be more polite.”

But already Sarika’s shaking her head.

“Bad strategy. Ava, you don’t want them complaining about you to Matt, putting a wedge between you. I’d say go the other way. Win his parents over. Go on a charm offensive.”

“Why the hell should Ava have to go on a charm offensive?” says Nell combatively, and Sarika sighs.

“She shouldn’t. I’m just being pragmatic.”

Nell rolls her eyes. “You’re such a bloody lawyer,” she says, and Sarika grins, because she and Nell have some version of this argument about three times a year. (Usually in the context of Nell telling Sarika to leave her job and her shitty bosses and stick it to the man. Whereupon Sarika ignores her advice, stays, and gets a pay rise.)

“Ava, Matt’s parents will love you,” reiterates Sarika, putting a hand on my arm. “They just don’t know you yet. You need to spend time with them. Next time Matt visits his parents, go along too. Bond with them. And don’t take Harold.”

    “Sarika’s right,” chimes in Nell. “Don’t take Harold. I’ll have him.”

“But—”

“If you take Harold, it’s over,” Sarika cuts me off bluntly. “You think ripping the ex’s face in half was bad? Wait till he eats the lunch.”

“Or all the shoes,” says Nell.

“Or the priceless new goose-down pillow.”

They both gaze at me adamantly, and I fold my arms, not wanting to admit they have a point.

“Let’s wait till I get an invitation, shall we?”

“Anyway, I think Matt’s lovely,” says Sarika supportively. “What does he think of us?”

“Oh, he loves you,” I say automatically, then suddenly focus on Matt, who is approaching over the grass. He’s holding about ten bags of crisps in his arms, accompanied by Maud, who is talking very intently at him in a way I recognize.

“Oh God,” I say. “Maud’s got him.”

“Shit,” says Nell.

“Uh-oh,” says Sarika, biting her lip.

“I told him to say no,” I say. “I told him! But look at him, nodding away!”

“Poor love,” says Sarika, laughing. “Didn’t stand a chance.”

Matt is clearly captivated by Maud. I mean, everyone’s captivated by Maud, what with her amazing auburn hair and lustrous eyes and instant way of making you feel you’re special. He’s still nodding, and she’s clutching his arm, and as they get nearer, I hear her saying, “Thank you so much,” in her confident, penetrating voice. “You’re such a star, Matt. So, you’ll phone the storage company, will you?”

    “Er…no problem,” says Matt, sounding a bit startled.

“You’re an angel.” Maud bats her eyelashes at him. “Now, tell me, you don’t know any MPs, do you? Because—”

“Maud!” I cut her off brightly. “Happy birthday!”

“Oh, thank you!” says Maud, blinking at me as though this greeting is a complete surprise. “What a lovely day.”

“Where are the children?” inquires Nell, and Maud looks around vaguely.

“They were here….Now, Matt, that reminds me, you don’t have an electric mower by any chance, do you?”

“No, he doesn’t,” I say quickly. “Matt, a word?”

I drag him away a little distance and say in a stern undertone, “You have to say ‘no’ to Maud, remember? We went over this.”

“I’m not just going to say a flat ‘no’ when someone asks me a favor,” says Matt, frowning. “I’m a decent human being.”

“That’s how she gets to you!” I retort. “She makes you feel like a decent human being, she flutters her eyelashes gratefully…and then boom. You’ve been got. I love Maud, but it’s true.”

Matt laughs and bends to kiss me.

“Thanks for your concern,” he says. “But I can look after myself.”





Fourteen




Famous last words. Sure enough, two hours later, Matt looks utterly beleaguered. God knows what he’s agreed to do for Maud, but she’s been monopolizing him and saying things like “I’ll text you the details” and even handing him Royal Mail notices about parcels. In the last conversation between them, I overheard the phrases “passport office,” and “school run,” and “so kind.”

Well, he’ll learn.

By now we’re all sprawled on the picnic rugs, searching for the last of the cava. Maud’s children were eventually located trying to cadge food from another family picnic and corralled back to ours. Now, having heard that Matt does martial arts, they’re attacking him with “kung fu” punches.