Marry Me Tomorrow: The perfect, feel-good read to curl up with in 2017!

‘So when did you actually become homeless?’

‘Last summer.’ He glanced across at me and away again. I watched him, wanting to ask what had happened but not wanting to sound too nosy. He took another sip of tea and changed channel again. A Pearl Jam video was playing. ‘Ah that’s more like it.’ He placed the remote control back on the armrest. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not at all.’ Chewing my lip, I fought the desire to interrogate him. Was he going to leave it like that? He couldn’t, could he?

‘I love nineties music,’ he said. ‘That whole grunge scene reminds me of being a teenager. Smoking behind the bike sheds, getting drunk in the park and all that shit.’ He sniffed and glanced across at me. ‘I bet you didn’t do all that, did you? I bet you were a right good girl.’

I stiffened, feeling defensive. ‘Is that a bad thing?’

‘Bad?’ He laughed. ‘How can being good be bad?’

‘It’s usually seen that way. Well, more boring than bad, I suppose. Uncool.’

He smiled. ‘I shouldn’t worry about that.’ He yawned again. ‘So, what did you do as a kid, if you didn’t hang around drinking and smoking with your mates?’

I frowned slightly. ‘I had friends that I hung out with. We just didn’t smoke and get pissed. Well, not until we were older. But at school, we went to each other’s houses or went shopping and stuff. Lydia only lived around the corner so we were always together.’

‘So Lydia’s an old school friend, is she?’

‘Yes. We’ve known each other since we were eleven.’

‘Nice one. No wonder she’s so protective of you. Is she single, too?’

‘No, she’s married to Dave.’

He nodded and looked back at the TV. ‘So why aren’t you married, then?’

‘I am,’ I said. ‘To you.’

‘Ha ha, but why aren’t you really married? Or at least have a boyfriend?’

I shrugged. ‘Why do I have to have a man in my life? Is that the only thing that should define me as a woman? I think not. I’m perfectly happy on my own.’

‘Are you gay?’

‘What?’ I gaped at him. ‘So, because I’m over thirty and don’t have a man in my life, I must be gay?’

‘I’m just asking! Don’t get all offended.’ He laughed. ‘I just meant, you’re a very attractive lady, and it’s hard to believe that you’re single.’

‘I have had boyfriends in the past, you know! They’ve just all been crap, useless arseholes. I’d rather be alone than with some annoying man who makes me miserable.’

‘Great. So why didn’t you tell your mum that instead of making up some crappy lie?’

‘I have, repeatedly, but she says that it’s rubbish and I must be lonely.’

‘Are you lonely?’

‘No!’ I said, a bit too aggressively.

‘So what’s her problem?’

‘I don’t know really. It’s probably because of my dad leaving. After he left, she struggled on her own but then she met Alan and her life – our lives – improved so much. We moved to a bigger house, went on nice holidays, had a decent car. She married him when I was five so I think of him as my dad, really. He died when I was eighteen. We were devastated, and I suppose Mum was really sad and lonely with me away at uni. But then she met Mike, who was some big shot businessman and she moved to New York with him. Obviously, he was minted. They split up a couple of years ago, and then she met Len, who she married last Christmas, and she’s all loved up and happy again and thinks the whole world should be loved up and happy with her.’ I shook my head and sighed.

‘Did you go to the wedding?’

‘Yes, it was fabulous.’ I smiled at the memory. ‘Christmas in New York with all the snow. It was really nice. Mum went a bit Bridezilla though. She was different.’ I pulled a face. ‘And Len’s nice but he seemed dead old. Like a grandad or something.’

‘Is he rich?’

‘I think so.’

‘Your mum must be pretty glamorous to pull these rich men?’

‘Yeah…’ My voice trailed off, unenthusiastically. She never used to be that way. I remembered her pegging out the washing in our back garden, or on holidays in the Isle of Wight. Now she went to Len’s holiday home in Hawaii or on Caribbean cruises for weeks on end. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I was happy for her. It just seemed like she was a million miles away from how I remembered the woman who was my mum. ‘I suppose she is now. She’s always in really lovely clothes with nice jewellery and stuff.’

‘Are you jealous?’

‘No!’ I said, too quickly. ‘Well, maybe a little. But not really about that… Ah, it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try.’

I looked at him, slightly annoyed. ‘Do you think you’re my therapist or something?’

Sam laughed and shook his head. ‘No, but you look a little bit upset talking about her.’

‘No I don’t.’ I scratched my face and went back to watching the TV, but I could still feel Sam’s eyes on me. ‘I just feel like she’s not my mum any more,’ I said, eventually. ‘Does that sound silly? I’m a grown woman, with my own life and everything, so I don’t really need her. And actually, I left her to go off to university so it’s not really fair that I feel that way. But it feels like she’s different to the woman who brought me up.’

‘But she isn’t though. Not deep down. And you always need your mum, no matter how old you are.’

‘I know, but…I don’t know.’ I shook my head. ‘Is your mum still around?’

‘No she died a good few years ago.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah. I still miss her.’

‘What about your dad?’

‘He died two years ago.’ Sam’s voice thickened and he looked away. I blinked at the TV, tearing up in response to Sam’s emotions. I wanted to say something to him, but couldn’t find the right words. Sam cleared his throat. ‘He had a heart attack. We were at a football match at the time.’

‘Oh no! You were there? That’s awful.’

Sam didn’t speak for a few minutes. He stared at the TV instead, sipping his tea slowly.

‘Were you United fans?’ I asked after a moment.

Sam threw me an incredulous look. ‘No, fucking City. Fuck off.’