At the bar, Jack was waiting impatiently with two drinks. He took a slug of his aged artisan rum and winced slightly – what was the point in £18 cocktails if Zoe wasn’t there with him? She was never this late usually. And what was the point in living together if they couldn’t come to a party together? A woman heading for the bar bumped into his hip – he drew away, saying, ‘Sorry,’ giving her an apologetic glance.
At which point he had two thoughts that were almost, but not quite, simultaneous: that this woman might just be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, let alone bumped hips with; and that this woman was Zoe.
She was laughing. ‘Hello, roomie.’
‘Whoah. You look nice.’
She laughed even harder. ‘It’s the surprise in your voice which really makes me value that compliment.’
‘No, I mean … you …’
‘It’s fine, it’s fine. God, a woman puts on a little bit of lipstick and a pair of earrings and suddenly it’s like a Hollywood makeover scene. It is literally just some lipstick, you know.’
‘And your hair looks different.’
‘Fine, and I’ve combed my hair out. Hence my ever-so-slight delay.’ She looked pleased. ‘Thank you for noticing.’
‘Well whatever magic your womanly wiles are enchanting me with, it’s really, really nice to see you.’
Zoe smiled at him. ‘You too. It’s really nice to see you. I’ve missed you since this morning.’ She took a sip from his rum glass, and winced too. ‘What is this?’
‘I know. I paid almost twenty quid for that.’
‘Is it artisanal?’
‘You know it is, baby.’ He pursed his lips sexily and took a sip himself, before spitting it back into the glass. ‘God, that really is utterly vile.’
‘What did you get me?’
‘Gin and tonic.’
She took a sip. ‘Oh yeah, that is much better. Here, halves on the gin?’
‘Let’s leave the rum for an unsuspecting stranger.’
‘Don’t you think we have a responsibility to warn them?’
Jack shrugged. ‘You never know. There might be someone out there who loves the taste and scent of wet soil and hot dog fur.’
Zoe retched.
‘Anyway. Let’s go and wish Iffy a happy birthday at least.’
‘Hold on. There’s something …’ Zoe looked thoughtful. ‘I’m forgetting something …’
‘Peanuts? Crisps? Because they probably only have sundried organic beetroot here.’
‘No … it’s … oh yeah. That’s what it is.’ And she pulled Jack into a huge embrace, kissing and kissing and kissing him, and he kissed her back until Iffy came over to greet Zoe, and asked if Jack would now be willing to join in the celebrations. He was getting complaints, he said, and it was his birthday, so really, shouldn’t they actually be kissing him? And he pointed to his cheeks where they both dutifully kissed him too, then he danced with them onto the dancefloor, holding their hands, where they stayed until the bar closed and it was somehow morning.
‘Mum, I know, I know … Well, what can we bring? No, let us bring something. Mum, this is supposed to be a party for you and Dad. Can’t I do something for it? Drinks or food or a cake or something? Mum. Mum. Mum. Mum, I know it’s your anniversary, but no one will think less of you if your son brings the cake. You don’t have to bake for – how many people are you expecting? Seventy? Mum, no one expects you to make a cake for seventy people yourself, particularly not if you won’t even let me help with the food or drinks. Well, what’s Dad doing for the party? No … No, I suppose not. Listen, there’s a cake maker just around the corner from us, I’ll ask him if he’s got space that weekend, ok? And I can send you a picture of some of his other cakes, and you can just tell me what you want doing, alright?’
Jack sighed and Zoe could only wonder at the sudden feeling in her gut that he would be a great father one day. ‘Yes Mum, of course I’ll let you know how much it costs. Alright? Good. Thank you. No, Mum, it’s my pleasure. Alright. Talk to you soon.’
‘Party planning going well, then?’
‘Oh, Zo. A thirtieth-anniversary party seems like the least fun of all the parties.’
‘I hate to break this to you, but we don’t have a cake maker around the corner. Do we?’
‘No, and I won’t ever tell her how much a real cake maker charges in these parts either, but I’m sure I can find one that will meet her exacting standards.’
‘You’re a good son.’
‘Now I just need to hear that from both parents and I can save myself thousands in future therapy bills.’
Zoe rubbed his hair. ‘Are you really dreading it?’
‘I’m not dreading it. I suppose it’s quite nice that they’re still together after all this time. I’m just …’
‘Surprised they are?’
Jack looked surprised himself. ‘No. Why. Are you?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘No, just … It’s never that much fun hanging out with the pair of them, is it? I don’t know if I can bear to watch Dad being steamrollered by Mum for another evening, particularly in front of all their friends.’
Zoe sat beside him on the sofa, and swung her legs up into his lap. ‘I’ll be with you. We can supervise everyone’s behaviour, make sure both your parents are having a nice time—’
‘Are you suggesting we’re the chaperones?’
‘Yes! Exactly. Pulling snogging couples out from the bushes, that kind of thing.’
‘Checking the punch isn’t spiked.’
‘Or spiking it ourselves.’
‘I don’t imagine Dad’s friends will require any additional spiking.’
‘Alright then. And if we have no other job besides getting a cake from our fictional cake-making friend, we can make sure both your mum and your dad have a great time at the party. With or without each other. Ok?’
Jack held her face in his hands, and kissed her mouth, softly. ‘I do love you, you know.’
She beamed at him, and kissed the end of his nose. ‘I know.’