‘And finally seen what was staring me in the face all this time.’
Lara stared, not sure what to say. ‘Jannes...’
‘I know.’
She softened towards him, knowing how much his grandmother meant to him. ‘You don’t have to lie to your family just because I’m lying to mine. It’s not as if Mormor is going to go to the papers. You can just tell her the truth.’
‘I know. I know that. And I tried to explain that it’s not what it seems but... I don’t know what happened...she somehow just refused to hear it.’
‘Well, you can explain properly when you go to lunch.’
‘We’re going to lunch.’
Lara frowned at him. ‘She’s not my grandmother. She can’t make me.’
‘I’m sorry, are we back in the playground?’ Jannes asked, clearly frustrated. ‘Of course she can’t make you. But she isn’t going to believe me if I go on my own. She’ll convince herself that I’m over-complicating things and I should settle down and produce offspring immediately. Trust me, she already laid the groundwork on the phone. If we’re both there she can’t insist that we’re both wrong about whether we’re together or not.’
She shook her head. How had she ever expected dating Jan
nes—even fake dating him—to be simple? ‘You know this is ridiculous, don’t you?’ she said. ‘I have other friends, Jannes, quite a few of them, and I’ve never had to go for Sunday lunch to convince any of their grandmothers that I’m not sleeping with them.’
He smiled, and somehow that felt like a victory. ‘It’s not my fault you’ve led such a sheltered life, is it?’ he said.
She threw a cushion at him. ‘God. Fine. I’ll come. But only because your grandmother is absurd. I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this.’
He walked over, all fluid and graceful and disgustingly composed, and placed the cushion back beside her. ‘You’re the best,’ he said, nudging her feet so she’d make room for him on the sofa. ‘I told her we’d be leaving in an hour and would get a car straight to hers.’
She sat abruptly upright. ‘Jesus, Jannes. An hour? Straight to hers? I’ve got to go home and change.’
‘No, you don’t.’
‘I’m wearing your T-shirt. I slept in this T-shirt. It’s hardly going to convince her that we’re just good friends.’
He settled further into the corner of the sofa and took her coffee off her, stealing a sip before placing it on the end table. ‘Well, you must have brought other clothes.’
‘I brought getting a cab back home clothes. Not going for lunch with your eccentric grandmother clothes. Jannes, I can’t—’
‘Stop. You’re perfect.’
He cut her off and she stared at him for a moment, not quite sure where her next thought was supposed to come from when her brain had just turned to mush in the space between one word and the next.
‘I mean—I just meant—you’ll be fine. Whatever you wear.’
‘Fine?’
‘Yeah.’
Cool, so they were just going to not talk about the perfect thing. That was a good idea. It was just a slip of the tongue. Or something you just say to a mate. They were on their way to go convince his mormor—the person he was closest to in the world—that they weren’t really together. If she ever needed an ego check, well, there was one ready-made.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m doing this in ratty old jeans,’ Lara said as they climbed the stairs towards Mormor’s apartment. She lived across two floors of an old town house in west London, with a view of the gated garden to the front through the big Georgian windows, and out to a little mews at the back, with Farrow & Ball painted doors and bay trees in tubs outside each house.
‘Should I point out that I’m also wearing jeans?’ Jannes asked. ‘Or will that get me in trouble?’
Lara rolled her eyes. ‘She dotes on you—you can wear what you like. I’m meant to be making a good impression.’
Or at least that was what it felt like. The whole thing had a decidedly meet the parents feel to it. Which was ridiculous, truly, because she had known Mormor for years and they were here to announce that they weren’t a couple. But still.