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and I created this profile,’ I tell him, taking a sip of coffee before launching into the whole story.

      ‘Must have an eight-inch cock! Ahahaha!’ Tom cackles, causing an elderly couple enjoying a civilised cup of tea to glance over in shock.

      ‘Shut up, Tom,’ I hiss, but when he catches sight of the couple’s horrified faces, he just starts snickering even more.

      Eventually, when he’s finally calmed down, I manage to get the whole story out and tell him about the date planned for this evening.

      ‘So, you’re actually meeting him tonight?’ Tom asks.

      ‘Yep!’ I glance at my watch. ‘In just under three hours actually!’

      ‘Three hours!’ Tom yelps. ‘That’s nothing! Are you going to get changed? You’ve got to do your hair, make-up, not to mention getting there. Cutting it fine, aren’t you, Sophia?!’

      ‘Oh, I didn’t realise I was that hideous,’ I joke, plucking at my hair. ‘Three hours is enough, isn’t it?’

      Tom pulls a face. ‘Well, If I were meeting my dream m—date, I’d probably spend the whole day getting ready.’

      ‘Oh, shit,’ I groan, meeting Tom’s pointed stare. ‘Maybe I’d better go then.’

      I take a hurried sip of coffee and I’m about to get up from the table, when suddenly it dawns on me that Tom didn’t come all the way from Crystal Palace just for an update on my love life.

      ‘So, err, what did you actually want to meet about?’ I ask.

      ‘I’ll have to give it to you in a nutshell now!’ Tom says. ‘Basically, it’s Mum’s seventy-fifth birthday next month and I thought we could throw her a surprise party!’ Tom grins, his enthusiasm infectious.

      ‘Yes! Let’s do it!’

      ‘I’m thinking a big surprise party. Lots of her friends – Charlie, Marg, Ron – the whole gang. And then family, extended family, you know!’

      I nod, even though I don’t really know the people he’s talking about. Although Lyn often mentions her mates, most of whom are lifelong friends she grew up with, I’ve never actually met any of them.

      ‘But I’m thinking it needs a theme,’ Tom muses. ‘I thought, since Mum loves Come Dine With Me, maybe we could do some kind of Come Dine With Me party?’

      I scrunch up my nose. ‘I’m not sure.’

      ‘Why not?’ Tom looks a little deflated.

      ‘Well, I, for one, can’t cook, and you’re not exactly a pro in the kitchen, either,’ I remind him, thinking back to the many occasions Lyn’s moaned about how he only eats beans on toast and needs a woman to take care of him.

      ‘Hmmm… Good point,’ Tom muses. ‘Although I was planning on brushing up. You know, getting a cookbook or something.’

      ‘Sounds boring!’ I groan, when suddenly a brainwave hits me. ‘How about a karaoke party?’

      ‘Karaoke?’ Tom looks momentarily perplexed, before the idea settles and his face lights up.

      ‘That’s perfect, Sophia!’ he enthuses. ‘Mum loves music. She loves having a good ol’ sing-a-long!’

      ‘And no cooking or cookbooks necessary!’

      ‘Yeah! What was I thinking?!’

      ‘Fuck knows.’ I shrug.

      Tom gazes across The Muffin House, looking spellbound – a little creepily so, actually.

      ‘Err… Tom, are you okay?’

      Startled, he looks back towards me.

      ‘Yeah! I was just picturing the community centre decked out in disco lights, a mirror ball, glow sticks.’

      ‘Glow sticks?! This is a seventy-five-year-old’s birthday party, not a rave!’

      Tom shrugs. ‘It’s as close as I get to raving these days; we’re having glow sticks!’

      I laugh. ‘Okay, fine. Anyway, what’s this about a community centre?’

      ‘Oh yeah, forgot to say. I already booked out Lewisham Community Centre. It was free on the night of Mum’s birthday and I didn’t want to miss out. It’s got a massive hall. Don’t tell me you’re busy the night of the seventeenth, are you?’

      ‘Don’t be silly!’ I tut. ‘As if I’d miss Lyn’s birthday.’

      ‘Good. Even if this Daniel bloke does turn out to be the love of your life, you have to keep that night free, Sophia. I mean it,’ Tom says in his bossy, teacherish way.

      ‘I will,’ I sigh. ‘What do you take me for? Sacking off my dear old neighbour for a man! Pah!’

      Tom raises an eyebrow knowingly.

      ‘Okay, fine!’ I sigh. ‘I promise I won’t!’

      ‘Good!’ Tom nods, satisfied. ‘Right, well there’s a lot to think about,’ he says, tapping his spoon against his saucer. ‘Food, decorations, guest list, getting a karaoke machine. I’m going to have to make a list.’ He reaches for his backpack, which, it being Tom, naturally contains a notepad and pen.

      ‘Do we really need a list?’ I groan.

      ‘Of course, we need a list!’ Tom says, as he pulls the notepad out of his backpack. ‘We need to divide the tasks.’

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