I Heart London Read Online Free PDF

thing. And as for going back to England, well. Hmm. I screwed up my face and sighed, eyes tightly closed.
    ‘Man, what is that face for?’
    I jumped a mile out of my skin, splashing white, frothy bubbles all over the bathroom floor and slipping back under the water in surprise.
    ‘Alex,’ I gasped, re-emerging with wet hair and a considerably shortened lifespan. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’
    ‘I’m not surprised.’ My fiancé stretched in the doorway and peeled off his leather jacket, throwing it on the floor on top of my dress. We were a right pair of scruffy bastards. Thank God we had found each other. ‘You looked like you were trying to solve one of life’s great mysteries. Were you trying to work out what I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter is made from again?’
    ‘That was only once,’ I grumbled, adjusting my bubble coverage. ‘And you admitted you didn’t know either.’
    ‘No, I admitted I didn’t care.’ He corrected me with a smile and folded himself into a sitting position beside the bath. ‘So what’s up? Tough day at the office?’
    ‘Actually no.’ I leaned my head over to accept my hello kiss and resisted the urge to splash him. It was a very strong urge. ‘Still just waiting to hear if Bob’s going to let Delia present at the advertisers’ thing. It’s next month, I think, so he’s going to have to make his mind up fairly quickly.’
    ‘He’s gonna say yes,’ Alex assured me with a gentle stroke of my hair. ‘You guys have put so much work in. He would be crazy to turn it down.’
    ‘I know,’ I purred. Stroking was nice. ‘I just want it confirmed, you know?’
    ‘I do know,’ he nodded. ‘So what was that face all about when I came in?’
    Sometimes I hated our full disclosure agreement. Sometimes a girl wanted to sit in the bath and wallow like a mardy, hungry hippo. Now I was going to have to tell him all my ridiculous concerns and let him make me feel better. Stupid, clever, pretty boy.
    ‘Just thinking about this whole going back thing,’ I said, wiggling my toes at myself. ‘Just stressing myself out.’
    ‘Huh.’ He rested his chin on the side of the bath and looked at me with bright green eyes. ‘You know you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I feel like it’s getting to be a thing. What’s up with you and your mom? What’s with the big freak-out?’
    Now there was a question. I thought about it for a moment, waiting for words to come out of my mouth. But they didn’t. For the first time in my entire life.
    ‘I mean, it’s not like I don’t have parental issues of my own,’ Alex went on, filling in the silence for me. ‘But you’re gonna have to help me out. You don’t want to go home or you just don’t want to see her?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ I replied. It didn’t help, but it was honest.
    ‘You guys don’t get along?’
    ‘We actually used to be all right,’ I said, remembering all the Sunday dinners in front of the
EastEnders
omnibus. ‘I mean, she’s my mum. She’s a pain in the arse, but I just − I just feel bad.’
    Alex resumed the hair-stroking. ‘Because?’
    ‘Because I came here. I left her. And I know that, for all her moaning, she misses me, and I feel guilty. As much as she’s a pain in the arse, my mum’s always been there for me.’ I couldn’t help but think about Louisa’s wedding. Who else would put you to bed and tell you everything was going to be all right immediately after you’d split up a ten-year relationship, made something of a scene and broken the groom’s hand with a stiletto? Only your mother.
    ‘The day you don’t feel guilty about your parents will be the day the world stops turning,’ Alex said. ‘I think going back to visit is a good thing. Maybe it’ll remind her you’re still here. You’re not on the moon, you’re just a plane ride away. Maybe she’ll stop guilt-tripping you so much.’
    ‘Yeah, maybe.’ And maybe I’ll wake up to find a bacon