they were talking about after all, not some legal transaction.
‘Weekday. What do you both do? When do you see each other? How often do you get together?’
‘Wow, twenty questions.’
He simply looked at her expectantly, eyebrows raised as if she were a misbehaving toddler, and she spoke quickly before he could admonish her for not taking it seriously. ‘Well, I get up early, of course. Usually about five so I can get to the bakery and sort out the stock for the day. So he rarely stays over on a week-night.’
‘So you don’t see him during the week except in the evening?’
‘Well, no, but he usually rings me every day mid-morning,’ she said brightly. ‘That’s if he’s not in the middle of something at one of the houses.’
Ed was a property developer. Fed up with his job in IT, he’d given it all up three years ago, just before they’d met in fact, and now spent his time buying run-down shacks and doing them up, then selling them on for profit. It wasn’t yet turning out to be the giant money-spinner he always talked it up to be.
Still, early days, she told herself. Give the guy a chance. She liked the fact that he’d thrown himself into building up a business, being his own boss. Taking responsibility for his own success or failure. It was something she could relate to. After all, it had taken heryears of hard graft to build up her cake business. They had a lot in common, and that always made for a good, strong relationship, in her opinion.
Gabriel pressed on. ‘And how much does he actually do around the house?’
‘Plenty.’
‘Not good enough. What’s his house like? Imagine you’re married and living together in this lovely flat.’
She glanced around the perfectly tidy room with satisfaction. She loved her little flat, filled with unusual bits and pieces of furniture that she’d picked up in markets and antique shops. Gabriel had always teased her about it, telling her she was ‘nesting’.
‘Imagine you go away on holiday or business for a week,’ he went on. ‘You leave him alone here. Based on what you know of him, what would the place be like when you got back?’
She pulled a face. ‘Well, he’s not that good on his own, to be honest. He’s not really a cook, so he’d probably have lived on pizza and takeaways. The place would most likely look just like his house. A hovel. You’d feel at home in it!’ She dodged as he threw a cushion at her.
‘I’m not that bad!’
‘Your flat is a pigsty, Gabe. Face facts. The only time there’s been any semblance of order was when I stayed with you and that’s only because I can’t live in your kind of squalor.’
‘You’re not doing yourself any favours here, you know.’ He put on a hurt expression. ‘Anyway, we’re talking about Ed, not me. What else?’
She pursed her mouth, considering. ‘There’d be an overload of washing. I’m not sure he knows how to work the machine.’
‘Pathetic!’
‘And the plants would probably be dead. He never remembers to water them.’
He held up a hand to stop her. ‘I think I’ve heard enough. Basically, Lu, and I’m going to be brutal here…’ She looked at him expectantly. He paused dramatically then announced loudly, ‘You have become Ed’s mother.’
Silence for a moment while this sank in and then she exploded. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous! You’re twisting everything. You make it sound like he’s some layabout slob who doesn’t lift a finger while I do everything!’
‘Sounds about right.’
She stood up, feeling irrationally that itmight somehow give her the advantage to be taller than him. ‘You’re wrong, Gabriel. We’re just very different people with different priorities. There must be millions, zillions of couples just like us.’
‘I’m sure there are,’ he said with calm amusement. ‘But what you
think
you have is the traditional “he hunts it, she cooks it” model of relationship. Only trouble is, unless he changes his ways
you
will hunt