Pictures of Lily

on the sofa watching television, and sadness washes over me. It’s such a comforting sight. It’s what I’m used to.
    ‘Hey,’ he says, reaching out for me.
    I drop my bags and go around to him, suddenly wanting to be in his arms. I squeeze myself onto the sofa and lay my head on his chest. A split second later I’m fighting back tears. I shut my eyes tightly and force back the sensation.
    ‘This is nice,’ he murmurs into my hair. ‘I feel like I haven’t seen you properly for ages.’
    ‘I know what you mean,’ I reply. ‘My family will be gone soon and you’ll have me all to yourself again.’
    He chuckles and pulls me up to face him. ‘No disrespect to any of them, but that will be nice.’ He leans forward to peck me on the lips. ‘When are they back from the mountains?’
    ‘Tomorrow.’
    ‘Any plans yet for tomorrow night?’
    ‘Probably dinner with them after work if you fancy traipsing into the city. But we’ll need to see them Friday because it’s their last night, so you could wait until then if you prefer.’
    ‘I might do that.’ I rest my head back down on his chest. He lightly runs his fingers over my back. ‘What do you want to eat tonight?’
    ‘I think there’s some of that curry I made a few weeks ago in the freezer.’
    ‘That’d be good.’ He detaches himself from me and gets up from the sofa. I follow him into the open-plan kitchen area and get on with the process of defrosting our dinner in the microwave before hoisting myself up onto the countertop. Richard puts on the rice and comes over to me, standing between my legs and planting a kiss on my lips. ‘What do you want to drink?’
    ‘Cider?’
    ‘Sure.’ He gets to it, pouring cider into two glasses filled with ice and handing one over. My dad told me loads of people drink cider on ice in England now. And to think I thought it would never happen . . .
    ‘Cheers,’ I say, chinking his glass. ‘Hey, the Editor of Marbles magazine asked me to cover for his editorial assistant next week.’
    ‘That’s cool,’ he says, looking impressed. ‘I keep meaning to ask if you get paid extra for it?’
    ‘No, it’s the same day rate. But speaking of money . . .’ I jump down from the counter. ‘I bought something today.’
    ‘Did you? What?’
    I retrieve the plastic bag from the hall. ‘This.’ I smile sheepishly as I pull out the camera box.
    ‘A camera?’ He’s taken aback. ‘How much did it cost?’
    My smile flatlines. ‘I put it on my credit card.’
    He reaches into the bag and pulls out a receipt. ‘Jesus, Lily!’ he exclaims.
    ‘What?’ I’m starting to feel a little sick.
    ‘Can we afford this?’ he demands.
    ‘It’s not what we can afford, it’s what I can afford.’ I’m annoyed now.
    ‘Oh, like that, is it? I thought we were supposed to be saving for a wedding.’ He looks hurt and it immediately pacifies me.
    ‘I put it on my credit card, like I said.’ I actually was planning on telling him Ben came with me to buy it, but now I’m thinking that’s not such a good idea.
    ‘But you still have to pay it back. Don’t you already have a camera?’
    Now I’m annoyed again. ‘Yes, but it’s really old. It’s hopeless. I need something up-to-date if I’m going to be serious about this.’
    ‘And are you going to be serious?’ He looks confused.
    ‘Yes,’ I reply, calmly but firmly. ‘I want to do a course in photography.’
    He stares down at the floor. Then he briskly shakes his head and goes to stir the rice.
    ‘What? Aren’t you going to say anything?’
    ‘What is there to say? You’ve obviously made up your mind.’
    ‘It’s what I want to do.’
    ‘Aren’t you a bit old to have a sudden career change?’ he snaps.
    ‘I’m only twenty-six,’ I counter, but inside, my usual doubts are beginning to swirl around. I try to quash them. ‘Why are you being such an arse about this?’
    ‘I’m not being an arse. I just. Don’t. Get. It.’
    ‘Then you don’t get me.’ I didn’t mean to say that out loud. But it’s there now, between us.
    ‘Fine, if that’s how you feel.’ He stalks out of the kitchen. I stare in dismay as he puts on his coat in the hall.
    ‘Where are you going? What about dinner?’
    ‘I’m not hungry,’ he replies bluntly, opening the door, walking out and shutting it behind him.
    I sit there in stunned silence. The microwave starts to beep and I slide off the counter and open the door, turning off the gas cooking the rice on