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‘H E’S A GOOD

egg,’ Bella says, sitting on the bench beside me, ‘but he’s not my egg.’

I sigh.

‘No, no, it’s good,’ she says. ‘It was still a really good date. You know when people say “we are better off as friends” and it’s usually bullshit? I actually think we might be friends now. He invited me to see him in an improvised musical version of Love, Actually

.’

‘Are you sure you’re not his enemy, because that sounds terrible.’

She laughs.

‘He wants you to come too,’ she says.

‘He does?’

‘He’s fascinated by you, he said.’

‘It’s the cheetah shirt. It does that to people.’

‘He said he wants one of his own.’

‘I bet he does. But he’ll have to prise it out of my cold, dead hands.’

Bella laughs.

‘Are you all right, though?’ I ask.

‘I’m really good,’ she says, and she is. The words match the smile she’s smiling at me.

‘Good,’ I say.

‘Good,’ she agrees. ‘Oh, and by the way, I have a new job.’