28th February 2015
The house smelled of—Ali inhaled deeply at the door—chocolate brownies. Yazid made brownies with dark chocolate and crushed Maltesers, and Ali’s tired end-of-the-week Sunday feeling ebbed away into a warm, pleasant weariness at the prospect.
“I’m back!” he called, plonking his bag on the phone table and locking the door behind him.
The rattling of keys brought Moxie to the open kitchen doorway, and Ali picked her up for a quick cuddle before depositing her back by her food dish and wrapping his arms around Yazid’s waist instead.
“Hey,” Yazid said, offering his cheek. Ali smiled and kissed it obediently before squeezing tight and tucking his head against Yazid’s shoulder. “Shop busy? You took ages.”
“Mm,” Ali said. “Guess who caught me? Mrs Pemberton next door. Would
