Kate thought about this for a moment, thought about how sad it was, and how that was the very first story to spring into his mind.
‘Shall we go and have a look?’ she whispered to him.
They slowly wandered over, trying not to look as though they were deliberately heading in that direction. Kate half hoped that the sketches were bad but, as it turned out, the drawing was brilliant. It was a level of skill Kate had never been close to attaining, and she felt the familiar tiny twinge of jealousy.
‘Damn, he was good,’ Freddie said excitedly once they had moved out of earshot.
‘There are so many amazing artists here. You see them all the time, studying the composition of famous paintings, the tone. Sometimes people come in with these travel easels and actually paint.’
‘Really? Don’t they get embarrassed that people come and watch what they’re doing? I’d get so nervous.’
‘They only do it if they’re already good. I think some of them enjoy showing off.’
‘If I was as good as that kid, I would show off all the time.’
They wandered through one room, and then another, Freddie taking moments to stop and investigate a painting, Kate noticing how his brow furrowed with concentration as he tried to make sense of it all.
‘You like art then?’ Kate asked.
‘Not usually this kind of stuff. Graphic novels, comics. Art that tells stories.’
‘That sounds cool. I’ve never read a comic.’
‘I was just thinking,’ Freddie continued, ‘that this gallery is basically one huge comic book. It’s hard to make sense of the narrative, but you could imagine one painting leading into another, like a sequence. There’s whole multi-strand epics in just one room, if you think about it.’
‘I can see that. You know, there’s a whole bunch of characters in the portrait room that I like to think might have known each other back in their time. Now I’m going to be imagining them with speech bubbles coming out of the frames,’ she grinned.
‘I could lend you some books if you like,’ Freddie said. ‘If you want to try reading comics? I have loads, all different types of stories. I bet I could find something you liked.’
‘That would be nice,’ she replied, genuinely thinking it would be. Then she looked at her watch. ‘Well, that’s me done. Shift’s over.’
Freddie just stood there, a little uncomfortable, clearly not knowing what he was meant to say or do next. And again, Kate felt that pang of recognition for his unhappiness, and that desire to want to help cheer him up.
‘Hey, have you eaten? Do you want to grab some food?’ she asked. If their positions were reversed, if she needed company but didn’t know how to articulate it, she hoped that someone would do the same for her.
‘Sure,’ Freddie replied.
Kate didn’t think he’d be there when she got out, but sure enough, Freddie was standing just outside the staff door, leaning on a railing and playing with his phone. In that moment before he noticed her looking, she found herself admiring his stance, line of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. There was something about the intensity of him, even though he was just looking at his phone, that made him seem cool and a little exciting. A mystery box in human form.
‘Is that him?’ Renee asked, nodding her head in Freddie’s direction, and shaking Kate out of her brief reverie.
‘He’s just a friend,’ Kate hissed in reply.
‘Sure. OK, whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Renee smiled as she hugged Kate goodbye. Then, as she was walking away, she turned and yelled: ‘Nice to meet you, Freddie!’
Kate cringed as she watched Freddie’s confusion.
‘Who was that?’ he asked.
‘Renee. A friend of mine. She thinks she’s being funny. Sorry, I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything?’
‘Oh, no. It’s fine.’ Then, after a beat, ‘What food do you fancy?’
This made Kate nervous. She couldn’t afford much, but all the cheap places around the gallery were supremely tacky and tourist-orientated. But then again, she’d been the one to invite him out, which implied that she should make the decision of where to go.
‘I don’t know. I’m not fussy,’ she replied, hoping that he’d choose for her.
‘Well, what food do you like?’
‘Honestly I’m happy with anything.’
‘Well then, how about McDonald’s?’ he suggested.
‘I haven’t been in a McDonald’s in years! Maybe not since uni?’
‘Shall we go?’
‘Yes! There’s one right around the corner.’
The delight she felt in that moment almost inspired her to take his hand and run. Almost.
There was a quaintness in sitting in a booth, a childlike glee she felt slurping on a strawberry milkshake, the texture of her chips glazed in nostalgia. Freddie seemed just as happy. His shoulders didn’t have that solemn hunched quality any more, and his eyes were bright under the sharp white lights. Today they were blue, Kate noticed, but she wanted to check again once they were back outside to see if they’d changed.
‘This was such a good idea,’ Freddie said.
‘It was your idea!’ Kate laughed.
‘Well, it was a good idea, even if I do say so myself then,’ he laughed.
‘You know, my dad used to sneak me out to McDonald’s sometimes.’ Kate told him. ‘My mum hates this kind of food, so my dad used to say that I was accompanying him on errands on weekends, and we’d go to the drive-through not far from our house. We had to keep it a secret and then clean the car out afterwards, spray it with air freshener so Mum wouldn’t know – although I suspect she always did. But it was so much fun. It felt illicit and dangerous.’
‘Do you get on with your parents?’ Freddie asked.
‘I do. I’m lucky. Don’t think I could cope moving back in with them if I didn’t.’
‘I forgot about that. I don’t think I could do it. Move back in with my parents, I mean. I did it once, after university, and it wasn’t great for me.’
‘Don’t you get on with them?’
‘I do . . . it’s fine, it’s just hard. I put them through a lot, and sometimes I feel like they don’t let me forget it. But they love me. It’s my brother I have a bigger issue with.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘David is . . . David’s perfect. I used to be jealous of him a lot when I was younger, but now, not so much. We’re just different people. And I don’t think he understands me. He tries to help sometimes, but he never seems to get that the way he wants to help can just make things worse. Sometimes, not often but sometimes, it just feels mean.’
‘That’s relatable.’
‘It is?’
‘Sure. I bet he doesn’t even know when he’s coming over as mean. Some people are like that.’ For some reason, India came to mind in her head. ‘It can’t be easy, but at least you don’t have to see him all the time.’
‘I’m going round to dinner with them this weekend. Nothing fancy. David and my sister-in-law, Stella, they want to meet up to organise something for my parents’ anniversary. It’s a big one.’