Page 87 of The Next Chapter

‘What if another Colin won’t cut it now?’ I ask Seb, my voice quiet.

‘Then we’d all thank the good lord for that. I had nightmares about his fingernails for months. Colin’s, not God’s.’

‘They were fine, you’re ridiculous.’

‘They were too long! Never trust a man who has long nails, that’s what I always say.’

‘I’ve literally never heard you say that in your life. Anyway, I’ve got to go,’ I say, ‘I need to get the pizza in the oven.’

‘Are you cooking for Noah again?’

I nod. ‘We have a rota.’

‘Okay, and I assume you’ve warned him that your pizza is not actually pizza.’

‘Er, yes it is. And no, I haven’t warned him of anything. He’s eaten everything I’ve cooked so far.’

‘That poor, poor man. That pizza you made for me didn’t even have cheese on it.’

‘It had cauliflower cream.’

‘Exactly. In what realm is cauliflower a cheese? Wasn’t the crust cauliflower too? Why are you obsessed with making cauliflower into pizza?’

‘It’s really good for you!’

Seb’s eyes darken. ‘You haven’t made the cauliflower pizza for Noah, have you?’

‘No.’ I eye the small oven like it’s about to betray me and reveal to Seb what I’ve actually done.

‘Lily…’

‘I added some spelt flour to the base, that’s all!’

‘And…’

‘And a couple of vegetables to the topping.’

My pizza is more vegetable than pizza, but Seb doesn’t need to know that.

‘You know you’re on holiday, right? You can relax a bit.’

‘I’m not on holiday, it’s a working break. Like a sabbatical. And when do I ever relax? I am incapable of relaxation, it’s a fundamental flaw. We’re going out to build a pagoda for Lola after dinner. She needs to make more of her outdoor space.’ There’s a chance my voice has ventured into the realm of ‘shriek’ again.

There’s a knock on the cottage door.

‘Got to go,’ I tell Seb.

‘I see how it is. You just dump me as soon as he comes knocking.’

‘We’ve been on Zoom for an hour and a half!’

‘Fine. Bye. Message later if you want to FaceTime Elton.’

I slam the laptop closed and dash to the door with the enthusiasm of a woman who is doing a terrible job of keeping her wayward feelings in check. At least when I slide the door open to find Noah in a white vest and navy shorts it’s easier to remind myself that it’s an impossible situation. Because people who look like him couldn’t do anything other than leave a trail of broken hearts behind them.

‘Pizza might be a while still,’ I tell Noah. ‘Do you want to sit outside?’

Noah disappears and returns with a glass of wine for me. I leave it on the small counter while I get on with the cooking.