‘Will I have to kiss you and stuff?’ He followed me into the lounge and sat on the edge of the armchair. Placing his coffee on the table, he rested his bowl on his knee with one hand and looked at me. I stared at it, concerned about it falling onto the carpet.
‘No, I shouldn’t think so, seeing as we’re married, ha ha,’ I said, trying to appear laid back. ‘Lydia barely talks to her husband let alone kisses him.’
‘How long have they been married?’
‘Five years or so?’
He grunted. ‘And when did we get married?’
‘Beginning of October.’
‘So, we’re newly-weds? Deeply in love? Unable to keep our hands off each other?’
‘Steady on!’ I blushed, laughing.
‘Get real, Emily. What’s your mum going to think if we act like strangers around each other?’
‘Remember she’s staying in a hotel,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell her you don’t like public displays of affection.’
Sam shook his head. He looked as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘I don’t know why you’re bothering. Really, the whole thing’s ridiculous.’
I sighed. ‘I thought I’d tell her that we’re having marriage difficulties so we can split up after Christmas. That would work, wouldn’t it?’
‘Oh great, so you’re going to make out I’m a bastard, are you? And your mum’s going to hate me?’
‘No, nothing like that. I’ll say we’ve got intimacy issues and it’s not working. I’ll blame myself.’
‘Intimacy issues?’ Sam laughed. ‘Am I missing the whole point of this or what? Surely this whole thing is to make you look better to your mum, not worse?’
‘Not really, I just wanted her to stop nagging. Maybe she’ll give up if she realises I’m useless with men.’
Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘If we’re going to do this, we may as well make it look as real as possible. So, tell me, where did we get married?’
‘The registry office. A spur of the moment thing. Just us.’
‘I think you have to tell them in advance. You can’t just turn up.’ He pulled a face, unimpressed. ‘What did we do after?’
‘Went for a meal.’
‘Where? McDonald’s?’
‘No!’
He laughed. ‘I thought it would tie in with your “no frills” theme.’
‘It was quiet, not cheap!’ I snapped. ‘We went down to the river.’
‘Oh, a picnic then?’ He laughed again and spooned more Weetabix into his mouth.
‘No. In a restaurant. I don’t think I said which one. A picnic would have been romantic though.’
‘In October? You’re crazy.’
‘Then we went on the river afterwards.’
‘Pedalo?’
‘A rowing boat.’ I rolled my eyes, exasperated. ‘It was romantic.’
‘I bet it was, on your own.’ His shoulders shook with laughter and his eyes crinkled. ‘So, why are there no photos? Everyone has to have a photo of their “special day”, don’t they? What are we going to say when your mum asks to see them? And why hasn’t she asked to see them already?’
‘I told her that you don’t like your photo being taken.’
‘What the hell?! What kind of guy refuses to have his photo taken on his wedding day? I sound like a right knob!’
‘What do you suggest then, genius?’ I stared at him, annoyed by how pedantic he was being. ‘Got any bright ideas?’
He shrugged and scratched his chest. ‘Have you got a computer?’
‘I’ve got a laptop.’
‘Can you superimpose our faces onto another couple’s bodies?’
‘No. Can you?’
‘No.’
‘I suppose I could try.’ I sat back against the sofa. ‘Or, maybe we could post them on the Internet and ask someone to help?’
‘Err, Emily, even I know that’s a really bad idea and I haven’t had access to a computer for over a year and a half now.’
‘What do you mean? There are loads of creative types out there.’
‘People will just take the piss. They’ll be putting our faces on all sorts of things. We’ll be riding camels or sky diving or something. How about we get my hair cut then take a selfie outside the registry office.’
‘We can’t. The weather’s wrong.’ I looked out of the window. Black clouds were looming on the horizon. ‘It was a lovely sunny day when we got married.’
‘Was it now?’ Sam voice was dry as he got up and crossed to the window. ‘Seriously, there are so many holes in this plan it’s unbelievable.’ He turned and looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Are you sure your mum actually believes this story? Do you think she might be coming over to check it’s true?’
‘Of course she believes me,’ I said, indignant.
Sam stared at me. ‘I bet she doesn’t, because I’ve just realised something. You can’t lie, can you? You’re completely crap at lying and there’s no way we’re going to pull this off.’
‘No, we can pull this off. It’s going to be fine, honest.’
Sam shook his head and turned back to the window, muttering under his breath. ‘So what does she think I do then? Or rather, what does she think your imaginary husband does?’
‘I just said you were in sales. I was deliberately vague.’
‘What kind?’
I shrugged. ‘I didn’t specify. You can make something up.’
‘And what’s our surname?’
‘I kept my maiden name. I don’t think she asked about yours once I said that.’
Sam shook his head, still staring out of the window. ‘Weird.’
‘I don’t think she’s that interested, to be honest,’ I said. ‘She’s so wrapped up in her new life and her new husband that everything else goes over her head. What’s your surname, anyway?’
‘Mackenzie. What’s yours?’
‘Fielding.’
He grunted. ‘So, her new husband is coming with her, is he?’
‘Yes. Len.’
‘What does he do?’
‘I don’t know. He’s retired, I think.’
‘So, basically, someone I would have nothing in common with.’
‘Pretty much. But that goes for me too.’ I put my coffee down on the table and got to my feet. ‘I’m going to have a shower, then we’ll go shopping if that’s all right with you?’
**
‘Do we have to go into the city centre to shop?’ Sam said, pulling a grey hoody over his head as we were about to leave. ‘I don’t really want to be seen by any of the other homeless people.’
I stopped and blinked at him. ‘Why? What are they going to do?’
He