‘It’s, er… nice to meet you too,’ I reply. ‘Sorry, I just… wasn’t expecting… well, anyone at all to be here.’
‘Oh my God, do not apologise, I’ve invaded your space,’ Cordelia says, horrified. ‘I am so, so sorry. I did tell Buzz to warn you.’
‘Buzz?’ I repeat back to her, no idea what that means.
Andy scratches the back of his neck as he winces a little.
‘It’s a long story,’ he says.
‘Buzz is what I’ve been calling him, while we’ve been working away,’ Cordelia explains. ‘He sort of flew across the floor at the office one day.’
‘One evening,’ Andy corrects her. ‘We’d been out for work drinks. I’d had a few too many.’
‘Anyway, he fell, but in like such a stylish way – I guess you had to be there – but I called him Buzz, as in Buzz Lightyear, and it just stuck. It’s funny though, because he got me back by nicknaming me Tink, as in Tinkerbell.’
‘Because…?’
‘Because I’m super cute,’ she replies.
‘Here, let me take the shopping,’ Andy says, noticing the bag. ‘Anything nice?’
‘Just the stuff to make dinner,’ I reply. ‘So, you work with Andy here in London, or you’re from Sydney?’
I can’t help but change the subject back because, honestly, I don’t feel like I understand why she’s here, in our flat.
‘I started at the London office about a week before we jetted off to Sydney,’ Cordelia explains.
‘Tink is the new hire I think I told you about,’ Andy adds.
Oh my God, he really does call her Tink.
‘Well, look, we won’t keep you, if you’ve got dinner plans – we’ve got a reservation, so we’ll be out of your hair,’ Andy says. ‘But before we go, there’s something we need to tell you…’
I feel like I know exactly what he’s going to say, even before Cordelia snakes her arms around his body and hugs him proudly, like she’s holding up a trophy.
‘We’re engaged,’ she sings, beating him to what frankly feels like a punchline.
Okay, so I didn’t know exactly what he was going to say, I thought he was going to say they were dating, not that they were engaged. Jesus Christ.
Cordelia gazes up at Andy, her eyes practically sparkling. He looks back at her with this expression I’ve never seen on his face before. Soft. Smitten even.
The word hangs in the air like a firework that hasn’t decided whether to explode or not – ironic, because it feels like one has just gone off in my face. My ears are ringing, like I’m tuning out of the room.
‘Engaged,’ I repeat, faintly. ‘As in…’
I don’t know why the fuck I’m asking for a definition of the word engaged. I know what engaged means.
‘Yep, we’re getting married,’ Andy says. ‘It all happened so fast, while we were away, so no ring yet.’
‘Well, there’s no rush, is there?’ I say – why am I saying that? I mean, I know why I’m saying it, but it’s not a very normal response, is it?
‘I know, it’s mad,’ Andy continues.
Mad? It’s absolutely unhinged. He’s been away for six weeks. That’s not enough time to get engaged to someone, surely?
‘We wanted to tell you together,’ she says. ‘We’ve been so excited.’
‘It’s been so hard keeping it a secret from you,’ Andy tells me. ‘That’s one of the reasons I’ve been so quiet.’