I smile. ‘Mainly hung onto my appetite, but more or less.’
‘Last night I said sorry, but only in a defensive way. It was the first time I’d been confronted with how I’ve behaved and my instincts were to deny and deflect. But one thing I didn’t lie about was you being my best friend. The timing of telling you, that had a motive I hadn’t examined, maybe, but it’s true for me. I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, I’d like to still be mates. But with zero grey area or agenda. Equally I’d understand if you don’t want to be.’
‘You articulate sod,’ I say, equal parts embarrassed, gratified, relieved.
‘I did rehearse that for the last hour and drew hard on my school assembly practice.’
‘Of course I want to be friends,’ I say, and we hug each other, with some tears and deep breaths. ‘I think it takes some character to get kicked hard as you did when you were down last night, and be able to say this the following morning.’
‘It took character to tell me the truth.’
I put my hand out for Ed to shake, and he does, after we wipe our eyes.
‘We’ve made up!’ I say to Justin, as we return. I don’t want him having to decode the atmosphere, yet again. ‘Fully and completely. Nothing left unsaid.’
‘Good,’ Justin says. ‘You may celebrate by making the gin and tonic aperitifs. Are you and Hester getting back together?’ he says to Ed.
‘No?’ Ed says. ‘What gave you that idea?’
‘Fatalism,’ Justin says.
‘Give me some credit. Especially after what Hester said to you both yesterday, over is over.’
‘We wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to choose,’ I say.
‘I would,’ Justin says, throwing his tea towel over his shoulder.
Ed lays the table for lunch and we’re pleasantly bladdered by the prawn cocktail starter.
After a vast birthday feast, Ed rings round local taxi companies to get us home: ‘It’s my fault, so I should fix it.’
‘They’re cool with taking Leonard?’ Justin says.
‘They said so.’
An hour later, we find ourselves having a row with a taxi driver:
‘Wrap it in a towel or I will ask for a soiling charge upfront, your choice!’ says Reg from Valley Cars. ‘I’ve had a Doberman shit all over the back seat and the valeting was a hundred and fifty quid.’
‘Does Leonard look like he has a Doberman’s bowel capacity to you?’ Justin says.
‘If I may be candid, he looks like a Muppet that’s done jail time,’ says Reg.
‘Oh man, you’re way over the line there,’ Ed says. ‘He got a suspended sentence.’
‘I have a towel we can use!’ I interject frantically, unzipping my case, before my best chance of a lift home implodes.
40
On the journey, my phone buzzes with a WhatsApp. Finlay Hart?! My stomach does a little somersault of joy and the dopamine floods my body. I’d been planning a polite inquiry, which was more about the fact I somehow can’t resist making contact. I’m almost sure there’s absolutely no significance or synchronicity in this arriving, right when I was drafting the hi so I hope your flight home was OK and everything’s sorted with your dad message. Almost.
Thought I’d let you know: my father’s been assessed now, and the woman from the council thought he’s currently safe to live at home but he’ll be getting regular care worker visits.
Hope you’ve had a good weekend. Was it Derbyshire? Finlay x
I track back and delete my previous typing. Only beady Leonard, shrouded on Justin’s lap like E.T. in the blanket, is watching my hands moving, Justin dozing.
That’s good to hear. Yes, Derbyshire! It’s been quite torrid. Hester, Ed’s fiancée, accused us of an affair, Ed confessed to the Susie fling, Hester and Ed split up, Hester zoomed off into the horizon in our BMW out of here. Ed declared being in love with me, I gave Ed a ton of hard home truths about having cake and eating cake. To his credit, he’s taken it well. Now crammed into a cab, radio blasting David Bowie’s ‘Absolute Beginners’, with a small dog wrapped in a towel, praying he doesn’t defecate. It’s all been strangely cathartic. x
Lot to unpack here, Evelyn: glad of the catharsis, hopes & prayers with you on the defecation. I’ve still got the Merc, I could’ve come and picked you up if you said! x
The initial kiss I wrote off as etiquette, but ongoing kisses? That’s a different matter. Along with offers to do mercy dashes into the Peaks.
Thank you! There’s three of us, luggage and a chihuahua Yorkshire Terrier crossbreed called Leonard, though … wait, you’re still in England? x
Yeah it was going to be such a mad rush otherwise, I put my flight back a week. Three of you, luggage and dogs called Leonard would’ve all been welcome. Any friend of yours, etc. x
That’s really nice of you, Fin, thanks. By the way, I got your dad some shortbread in Edinburgh, I forgot to say. I’m his biscuit dealer. Am I alright to call round with it after work tomorrow? 6ish? x
Yes no problem. I’ve been using the cleaner to facilitate my check ins so I might use that opportunity when you’re there to put my head round the door? x
Yes please, as that was exactly what I was hoping for and conniving, like a rotter.
Sure! See you there. x
Just to be clear, did you tell Ed you were in love with him too? This is what we call ‘fishing,’ etc etc. x
My heart pounds.
No, because I’m not anymore. x
Good for you. x
Yeah, it feels like it is. x
‘You look very … sparkly, all of a sudden?’ Justin says, awake and giving me a sidelong glance. ‘Who’s that then?’ He nods towards my phone. ‘How are you even getting a signal?’
‘A friend.’
‘FINLAY HART?!’ Justin mouths silently, with exaggerated enunciation, and I guilty-grin-blush.
My phone dings with a Justin text.
It’s what Susie would’ve wanted. x
I grin some more and hum along to David Bowie.
If our love song /
Could fly over mountains
41
The pater familial Volvo is reassuringly present in the drive as I walk up to the door of Susie’s former family home the following evening, clutching my tartan presentation tin of shortbread.
‘Hello!’ I say, eagerly but nervously, as Mr Hart answers. ‘Sorry for appearing unannounced again, I got you this up in Edinburgh.’
I proffer the shortbread.
‘Oh, that’s very thoughtful, Eve,’ he says, accepting it. ‘I best start watching my waistline! Would you like a cup of tea? I’ve put the kettle on.’
I say yes please and follow him indoors.
A quick glance around suggests everything is fine. The cleaner has left it immaculate.
He’s put the kettle on and I’ve taken a seat when the doorbell goes again.
‘Someone with you?’ Mr Hart says, getting up to answer it.
‘Oh, Finlay might be joining us,’ I say.
‘Yes, you’re right, it’s your young man,’ Mr Hart calls from the hallway.