The Invitation_The perfect laugh-out-loud romantic comedy Page 5

  Piper laughed. ‘I remember that with my parents.’ She bit her lip. She didn’t want to talk about her parents.

  Rob smiled at her, still leaning forward, still staring right at her. ‘It’s nice though, right? Knowing everyone. Don’t get that in London, do you?’

  Piper laughed. ‘No. But where I live is kind of village-y. So I do know people in shops and the postman – well, we have a postwoman, actually – and everything.’

  ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘Stoke Newington. I love it.’ Piper sipped her coffee. ‘What do you do?’

  Rob grinned. ‘I’m a teacher. At Rocklands.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘You didn’t know?’

  ‘No! Connie definitely never told me that. I would’ve remembered. What’s it like?’

  ‘It’s great actually. I love it.’

  ‘What do you teach?’

  ‘Design and Technology.’

  ‘Oh my god. Like Mr Rich?’

  His face broke into a grin and Piper grinned back at him.

  ‘No! Not like Mr Rich.’

  ‘I bet you’re just like him. I bet all the girls are madly in love with you. And some of the boys.’

  Rob dropped his head, shaking it as he laughed. ‘Nah.’

  They would be, Piper knew. They had to be. He was incredibly hot. He’d been gorgeous when they were teens, but now he was… he’d definitely be the teacher everyone fancied.

  ‘What was the name of that teacher…’ Rob started to say, looking up at her, his face screwed up in concentration. ‘Not Mr Rich. The one with the tight trousers?’

  ‘Mr McGrath,’ Piper said, without hesitation. ‘God, he was gorgeous.’

  ‘I saw him in a club once. In Liverpool. His wife looks about half his age.’

  ‘Oh god. He was proper gorgeous though. Like… Mr Rich was teacher gorgeous – best of a bad lot, you know? But Mr McGrath was actually gorgeous.’

  Rob was actually gorgeous too, she knew. She doubted that any of the other teachers looked anything like him.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re a teacher,’ Piper said, reaching for her latte again. ‘You hated school.’

  ‘I didn’t hate it,’ Rob said. ‘I just would have preferred not to be there.’

  Rob had been the typical teen who was always getting told off for messing around and joking and distracting the class. It was one of the things Piper had first liked about him – he made everyone laugh, including, often, the teacher. And he and Piper had the same sense of humour. After not very long, they’d look at each other when someone said something stupid or inappropriate or something that could be a double entendre. Piper had loved that she had someone she could glance at, see smiling back at her – or doing a ‘look to camera’ expression – and be reassured that she wasn’t alone, that someone at school got her.

  ‘How’s Holly doing?’ Rob asked.

  ‘Same as always. Working and working out and going on fancy holidays.’

  ‘She doesn’t come home either?’ Rob asked.

  Piper shook her head and then said, ‘Hey! I come home! I’m here now!’

  ‘You are.’ He smiled. ‘But when are you leaving?’

  ‘Oh shit!’ Piper said, glancing at the time on her phone. ‘I need to go. Connie’ll be wondering where I am and I need to spend a bit more time with her before my train.’

  She stood up, bumping the table with her knees, and tried to detangle Buster’s lead from the table legs.

  ‘So are you coming to the reunion?’ Rob asked, following her out onto the prom.

  ‘What reunion?’

  ‘School reunion. You haven’t seen it on Facebook?’

  Piper shook her head. She tried to avoid everyone from home on Facebook. And everywhere.

  ‘Weekend after next,’ Rob said. ‘At the Floral.’ He pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the Floral Pavilion Theatre.

  Piper’s mouth was dry. She really didn’t want to go. She’d managed to avoid everyone she used to be friends with for the past ten years – why would she voluntarily walk into a room full of them?

  ‘You should definitely come,’ Rob said. ‘You know, if you can. I know everyone would be excited to see you.’

  Piper shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can. But I’ll have a look. Thanks for telling me.’

  She tugged Buster away from the bin he was sniffing and said, ‘So I’d better go. It’s been really good seeing you.’

  ‘You too,’ Rob said.

  He took a step closer and pulled her into a hug. He squeezed and she remembered he’d always been great at hugs too.

  ‘Don’t leave it so long next time, right?’ he said.

  She nodded. ‘I won’t. I promise.’

  But she was lying.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘You should go,’ Matt said. It was Saturday morning and he was sitting on the sofa, legs stretched out across Piper’s lap and feet up on the side. The fibre-optic lamp – the tiny lights Connie had talked about – was in pride of place on the side table, switched on even though you could barely see it in the light. Matt had been delighted with it, calling it ‘a fugly seventies classic’ and taking dozens of photos of it for Instagram.

  But since then they’d barely seen each other all week. Matt had a project on at work that meant he left early and got back late, and even though they’d texted about the reunion, they hadn’t had a chance to properly discuss it until now.

  ‘Fuck off,’ Piper said mildly, pushing his legs away.

  ‘You should,’ he said. ‘Closure. Also…’ He sat up, pushing his face close to hers. ‘You might enjoy it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t enjoy it,’ she said, pushing him back down again. ‘Does anyone enjoy school reunions? They’re always awful on TV.’

  ‘TV isn’t real. I can’t believe I have to keep telling you.’ He gestured at the screen with the remote.

  ‘Some of it is. David Attenborough is.’

  ‘That’s just what they want you to believe. I’m not even sure David Attenborough’s not animatronic. Anyway I went to mine and it was fucking great.’

  ‘Because you got hammered and punched someone and shagged someone else and then… I can’t remember, stole something?’

  ‘Streaked,’ Matt corrected. ‘You’ve missed out the most important details. I punched the twat who bullied me for years and I shagged the girl who wouldn’t even have looked at me at school.’

  ‘Because you were fat,’ Piper said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Matt agreed. ‘And also the hair and the nose and the glasses and spots. But—’

  ‘I’m still fat,’ Piper said. ‘In fact, I’m fatter than I was at school. And they called me lard arse back then.’

  ‘So?’ Matt shrugged. ‘You’re gorgeous. And successful. And confident. With norks for days. Wear that gold sequinned skirt and that black crossover top. And your biker boots.’

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ Piper said. That was actually a really great suggestion. She could see herself in that exact outfit. Maybe with bright pink lipstick and tassel earrings. ‘I’m not going.’

  ‘Robbie wants you to go though. He wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t want to see you.’

  Piper rolled her eyes. ‘He was just being polite.’

  ‘Nah. I can picture it now. He’ll be at the far side of the room. You’ll walk in and the lights’ll be low, dry ice swirling, tinsel hanging from the ceiling—’

  ‘Tinsel?’

  ‘Don’t they have tinsel at these things? You’ll have your twinkle umbrella—’

  ‘That’s Buffy.’

  ‘Or maybe he’ll be on stage with his electric guitar—’

  ‘That’s Back to the Future.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. It’ll be like everyone else in the room has disappeared and—’

  ‘Someone’ll drop a bucket of pig’s blood on my head.’

  ‘If that happens I’ll give you a million quid.’

  ‘You haven’t got a million q
uid.’

  ‘I’ll borrow it. That’s how confident I am that no one’s going to drop a bucket of blood on you.’

  ‘I know. That’s not going to happen. But…’

  Piper leaned back and rested her head on the back of the sofa. Matt sat up and leaned into her side, his head on her shoulder.

  ‘It could be good for you, you know?’

  ‘I know. I mean, I know that’s the theory. But if I’d wanted to keep in touch with any of them, I would’ve done, you know?’

  ‘I know. But you also have a tiny bit of a tendency – and this isn’t a criticism, just an observation and you know I say it with love – to push people away. Particularly when you feel like you’ve fucked up.’

  Piper sighed and turned it into a groan. ‘I know. But I moved away. I don’t live there any more. I’ve got new friends. Why do I have to go back?’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Matt said. ‘But I think it might be a good thing. And where else are you going to wear that skirt?’

  ‘Ugh. I hate it when you’re right.’

  ‘Sucks to be you then since I’m always right.’ Matt nuzzled into her neck and blew a raspberry behind her ear. ‘Want me to come with you?’

  ‘God no,’ Piper said, turning to kiss him on the temple. ‘The only thing more pathetic than turning up alone would be taking my BFF with me.’

  ‘I could pretend to be your boyfriend. Fondle you inappropriately. Tell them all how hot you are in bed. How I can’t keep up with your constant demands for my dick.’

  ‘Please stop talking. I don’t want to bring my cornflakes back up.’

  ‘I will though,’ Matt said. ‘If you want me to.’

  ‘I know you would. That’s why I love you.’

  ‘You’re going to go.’

  Piper opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. ‘I’m going to think about going, yes.’

  ‘You must be intrigued though. About Rob, Robbie, the Robster.’

  ‘Rob is fine. I am, yeah, a bit. It’s just… been a long time.’

  ‘You could sleep with him and break his heart,’ Matt suggested. ‘Would that help?’

  Piper laughed. ‘It wouldn’t hurt.’

  But she didn’t want to break his heart. And she absolutely wanted to see him again. She just didn’t want to have to go home and face all of her old friends in order to do it.

  ‘Ugh,’ she said. ‘I hate being a grown-up.’

  ‘Life is hard and so am I,’ Matt said, as he always did. ‘But you are a badass and you can totally do this.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Now can you take your bad ass to the kitchen and make me a brew? I’m parched.’

  * * *

  ‘I’ve thought about it some more,’ Matt said that afternoon as they wandered down the high street, poking in and out of shops and picking up random bits that they needed for the flat –light bulbs, bin liners, garlic, tomatoes, eggs and chicken for the shakshuka Matt said he was making for dinner. ‘And you definitely have to go.’

  ‘I definitely don’t,’ Piper said. She was holding a bag of kale and wondering if she should get it and google ways to make it not taste like shit or just accept that she was never going to be a person who ate kale.

  ‘Put that back,’ Matt said, taking it out of her hands and dropping it back in the crate. ‘I’ll do spinach. Kale is evil. But listen, I’ll tell you why.’

  ‘I assumed you would.’

  ‘You’re not the same person you were at school,’ Matt said.

  They were in the queue now, Piper standing slightly behind him. ‘I know that.’

  ‘No. I mean it. I know you say you know that, but I’m not sure you do. And that’s why I think you should go home.’

  ‘To prove to myself that I’m not the same person?’

  ‘Yes,’ Matt said. They were at the front now. The guy on the checkout was cute. Skinny with dyed silvery-grey hair and a nose piercing.

  ‘Hey,’ Matt said. ‘How are you?’

  The guy dipped his head and looked up at Matt from under his eyelashes. Seriously?

  ‘You never called,’ he said, his voice low.

  Piper looked at Matt, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘I know,’ Matt said. ‘I’m sorry. Something came up.’

  Piper rolled her eyes. If there’d been aubergines nearby, she would’ve grabbed one and chucked it in the basket as a visual reminder of how obvious they were being, but no, they were on the other side of the shop.

  ‘You’ve still got my number though, right?’ the boy said.

  ‘Of course.’

  Piper couldn’t take any more. ‘I’ll see you outside.’

  In front of the shop, she leaned on the wall and scrolled through her phone. Someone had commented ‘fat bitch’ on her latest Instagram photo – the preview for her blog post – so she deleted that. The rest of the comments were lovely, from ‘slay’ to ‘that lipstick really suits you’ to ‘you did so well!’ and ‘that woman needs a good meal’. She wanted to reply to that one – quite a lot of the comments about the debate had disparaged Naomi’s looks or body or personality and it made Piper feel sick. In fact, she should probably write a blog post about it – a comment wouldn’t be enough. She made a mental note to do that later and flicked over to Facebook.

  Robbie – Rob – had messaged her earlier in the week to say it had been great to see her and he really hoped she’d come to the reunion, but she hadn’t replied. She’d meant to –she’d been trying to think of how to say that it wasn’t going to happen – but then she’d left it too long and to message now would be weird.

  Instead, she tapped the search box and typed in Mel’s name. She’d been her best friend at school. She lived on the next road so they’d walked to and from school together every day and sat together in the classes they’d shared. But she hadn’t been Mel’s best friend, that had been Dawn. Piper had liked Dawn too – she was hilarious. But she’d been loud and disruptive in a way that had made Piper uncomfortable.

  Mel looked pretty much the same. Piper had clicked on her profile enough to know that. She’d also tried to add Piper as a friend more than once, but Piper had always deleted the request. She’d thought when she moved to London that it was going to be a clean slate, that she could leave everything behind and start again, but it hadn’t quite worked out like that. And occasionally she’d felt a little envious thinking that her friendship group might still be friends. Without her. But they probably didn’t miss her at all. Not really.

  ‘What’s your damage?’ Matt said, coming out of the shop and bumping her with his hip.

  ‘Your flirting was upsetting the fruit,’ she said, pushing her phone into the side pocket of her bag.

  ‘You’re just jealous.’

  ‘Sure,’ Piper said, smiling. ‘That’s it exactly. Where did you meet him anyway?’

  Matt frowned. ‘I’ve been trying to remember. Party, I think. He was very bendy, I remember that much.’

  ‘God,’ Piper said. ‘I did not need to know that.’

  ‘Lovely hands,’ Matt added.

  ‘Shut up now.’

  They walked a little further down the high street and Matt said, ‘Would it be ridiculous to get a coffee here when we could just go home?’

  ‘Yes,’ Piper said, but she was already pushing the door open. The coffee shop was through a florists and out in a courtyard and it was one of her favourite places. She found a table and put their bags down, while Matt went to order. She took her phone out again and opened Facebook. She should write a pros and cons list – that’s what she would usually do.

  But she knew she should go home. She should go home, go to the reunion, see her friends, check up on Connie and then come back to London and forget all about it. That would be the sensible thing to do. And she always did the sensible thing.

  She tapped on Rob’s message and typed in Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. Was good to see you too. See you at the reunion!

  Then she
put her phone away and smiled up at Matt as he appeared with their lattes and two ridiculously indulgent-looking cakes.

  ‘Couldn’t resist,’ Matt said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Holly was late. Which wasn’t like her. At all. Piper had sat outside the cafe – even though it wasn’t exactly warm, it was a bright, sunny, day and Piper would always rather be outside if she had the opportunity. Plus Holly’s voice tended to carry so Piper always felt better when there was more space for it.

  She scrolled through her phone for a little while before making herself put it away, tucking it down inside her bra. Rob had replied yesterday with ‘YESSSS!’ and said that he was looking forward to seeing her again – ‘and the girls will be too.’ Every time Piper thought of seeing Mel and Dawn again her stomach fluttered with nerves. And she hadn’t even let herself think about whether Claire, her teen nemesis, would be there.

  She looked up at the blue sky, the wispy white clouds, the tops of the pastel-painted buildings. She was so lucky to be living here. This was exactly what she’d always wanted, what she’d dreamed of. So the path to it hadn’t been what she’d imagined, but that didn’t matter, did it? If it got her to the same place?

  She watched a group of girls sifting through the jewellery outside a store on the opposite corner. They called to each other, holding up necklaces and brooches, laughing and snapping photos on their phones. Piper thought they were maybe Spanish. On holiday or studying? Or maybe they were just pretending to be Spanish. Piper and her friends had done that once, in Liverpool. Getting the ferry over, pretending to be American tourists, all talking in dreadful accents picked up from Friends mostly. She’d told a guy on a market stall on Church Street that she was from Tulsa, Oklahoma, over on a cultural exchange. Mel, of course, said she was from New York – she was a dancer and she’d come over to study at LIPA, the performing arts school. Piper would never have thought of that. Not that anyone would have believed it of her anyway. They believed Melissa.

  ‘Sorry,’ Holly said, dropping into the seat opposite Piper.

  Piper jumped a little. Lost in her own thoughts, she’d half-forgotten she was even expecting anyone.