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‘My… Oh.’

Brilliant. He thinks that Si is my dad. How? He’s not that much older than me. I guess he didn’t really see him, and at a glance maybe he looked older but… wow. This is awkward. I’m so glad he’s not here to hear it.

‘He’ll have a beer, please,’ I say, wondering whether or not to embarrass the poor lad. As he heads off I decide not to because, well, he’d be mortified, right?

‘All done,’ Si announces. ‘You have my full attention now, gorgeous.’

My eyes widen (as much as is possible with these humongous lashes on) as I glance around to make sure the waiter didn’t hear that, seeing as though I’ve basically just left him believing that I’m here with my dad.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks, noticing my strange behaviour.

‘I’m fine. You?’

We are interrupted by the waiter with our drinks.

‘Here you are, sir,’ he says, placing Si’s beer down in front of him.

‘And for the young lady.’ As he sets my glass down on the table he winks at me. Thankfully Si doesn’t see this, but the ‘young lady’ comment didn’t go unnoticed. A few awkward seconds follow.

‘You’re very quiet,’ Si observes, breaking the silence. ‘Is it because I didn’t mention that my brother lived with me too? I didn’t think it would matter…’

I think for a moment.

‘Oh, no, it’s fine, honestly,’ I insist.

‘Really?’ he asks.

‘Really,’ I reply. ‘The more the merrier.’

‘Maybe I should have checked with him. He does seem a bit… strange at the moment,’ Si says, his brow furrowing in thought. ‘But he did say he was happy for me to sort a tenant. Perhaps that’s just because he’s lazy though.’

‘Is he?’ I reply in disbelief. ‘You don’t get a cool job by being lazy, do you?’

‘Yeah, well, I mean, come on, being a radio DJ isn’t really a job, is it? It’s playing a few CDs and chatting.’

CDs? Okay, suddenly the age gap feels like way more than a decade.

‘He’s always had silly dreams,’ Si continues. ‘At school he opted for the easy subjects like media and drama.’

I bite my tongue. It’s probably best not to bring up that I took media at GCSE, or studied marketing at uni. People always think they’re not real subjects. It drives me mad.

‘None of it requires real talent, or a real job,’ he continues. ‘Not like law – I followed in my dad’s footsteps, it made my mum so proud.’

I can appreciate what it must have been like for Adam, growing up with a seemingly perfect brother, because my parents weren’t exactly thrilled with my choices. Neither my mum nor my dad encouraged me to go to university. My mum didn’t want me to move away; instead, she’d hoped I’d find myself a husband, ideally immediately after sixth form, settle down and start popping out grandkids. Maybe that’s why she seems so disappointed in me – the fact I can’t seem to maintain a relationship, have no maternal instincts and was living in their house until a couple of days ago. As for my dad, he wanted me to finish school and go and work at the bank with him. He was the manager of a branch in town so it would have been easy to get in and work my way up like he did, but to be honest I couldn’t think of anything more boring. When I told them I wanted to work in PR they looked at me like I’d suggested going to clown school or something, and now, with me not being able to find work, I can only imagine the conversations they’re having about the money I wasted on a bullshit degree in a pointless industry – or a ‘bad economy’ if it’s my dad speaking.

‘You see, Adam isn’t like you,’ Si continues. ‘You were smart, you got a degree. That already puts you ahead of others when applying for a job.’

I feel like I’m having a Year 11 careers meeting, but it’s nice of him to say. At least he doesn’t think I’m a failure.

‘Let’s hope so,’ I reply. ‘This week I’m going to see what’s out there and start applying.’

‘Anyone would be lucky to have you,’ he reassures me.

‘Thank you,’ I reply with a smile.

We are interrupted again by the waiter. As he takes our order I will him to hurry up. I’m relieved that he isn’t even looking at Si because, thinking about it, if he were looking at him he would probably realise the age gap between us isn’t that large, but the fact that I didn’t correct him in calling Si my dad means I pretty much confirmed it.

‘One more thing,’ the waiter says to me after taking my order, ‘I know this is unprofessional of me but you seem like a really nice girl. Could I have your number?’