“I hear you’re the ICT teacher at school.” I tear off my chapati and dip it in the sauce.
“Yes, it’s how we met, actually.” He takes hold of Priya’s hand and smiles. It’s nice to see how much he adores her and treats her better than I ever did.
Priya looks at me. “Have you heard anything about your visa, Cal? Steve got his through last week.”
A thump hits me in the stomach, so this is really happening. He’s really going to be living with my girls. I’m actually looking at the guy that will take my place as their dad. While I couldn’t have handpicked a better man myself, my lungs cave as the weight of resentment lays heavy on my chest.
“I’ve not heard anything yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll be joining you. You can put me up until I find somewhere to live, can’t you?” I smirk at Steve, then at Priya. Her eyes are wide at the thought of awkward dinners like this, and I put her out of her misery. “I’m just kidding.”
They both laugh, but the girls don’t get the humour.
“Daddy can live with us, can’t he Mum?” Bethy says.
“Sure he can, boo,” Steve says, using mine and Priya’s nickname for our Bethy-boo. I loosen the collar of my shirt, wishing I’d worn something more casual, but I came here straight from work. I flash a fake grin at Steve as he scoops up the curry onto a folded roti.
The brown curry drips from the flatbread onto his pristine white shirt, leaving a trail of sauce.
My fake grin turns into a genuine smile. “That's gonna stain.”
Priya jumps to her feet. “Take it off. I’ll put it in the wash.”
He whispers to Priya, “I can't sit here in nothing.”
“Yeah Priya. He can't sit here in nothing.” I bite back a laugh.
“I’ll get you a top. I'm sure I have something to fit you.”
“Thanks honey.” Steve sighs heavily, glancing down at the stain over his beefy chest, then runs both hands over his short brown hair.
“I wouldn’t worry, mate. We’ve got kids. She’s used to cleaning up spills. Especially from this one.” I tickle Beth at the side of me to ease the awkward silence.
Priya comes down with a large oversized t-shirt of hers from her campaigning days that says ‘End period poverty’ with a tampon graphic. I quirk a grin and remember her feminist views which I share, of course.
Steve takes one look at the t-shirt with wide eyes. “Don’t you have anything else?”
Please say no. I can’t wait to see him sporting this.
Priya crumples the top up in her hands. “Not in your size. I’m sorry.” She hands it over gingerly with a wince.
Steve takes it into the utility with Priya and returns minutes later, like a good sport, wearing the ensemble. A smile spreads across my face as he slumps into the seat and the t-shirt clings to his body, stretching the tampon over the expanse of his chest.
“Dad, what are you laughing at?”
“Nothing, Beth. Eat your chapati.” I chuckle to myself again and dip the bread in the sauce. “So, when are you moving to Australia, Steve?”
He pushes his glasses up and clears his throat. “I’m applying for jobs at the moment. I have a few interviews lined up on Zoom next week. Hopefully, I’ll be able to secure a job soon, then hand my notice in.”
“So you’re not moving out next week with Priya?” I’m kinda glad, but I also wish she had someone with her.
“Not right away. I also have my house to sell. It’s all happened rather fast.”
Liv reaches over my plate for the yoghurt and knocks Priya’s glass of red wine over in my direction.
“Liv,” I shout. “Why didn’t you just ask me to pass it over?”
She sits back down with the pot of yoghurt in her hand. “Sorry, Dad.”
Priya bursts out laughing, pointing at my shirt. “That’s gonna stain.”