He doesn’t dramatically spill tea on the floor, or anything.
‘Hi,’ I say, feeling weird because I never say hi to my brother. He’s my brother. Usually we enter a room immediately halfway through a sentence. We don’t need formalities or small talk, we have history.
He smiles tightly and nods for me to follow him in.
I clear my throat and begin as I take in his room. ‘So I think maybe I’m the favourite child now,’ I say, aiming for a light, teasing tone but my voice comes out a bit strained. ‘Mum’s insisting I stay at the house while I’m in Oz. Meanwhile you’re stuck here, in thislame-ass hotel.’
He laughs, and flops down on a sofa at the footof his bed. ‘True enough, but your beloved status is only temporary,’ he says casually as I take a seat next to him. ‘Once the novelty of your reappearance wears off, she’ll be back to worshipping at the feet of her darling only son and heir.’
I snort and then we smile nicely at each other.
Phew. Things are going to beOK.
‘I really ...’ I start and then my phone loudly beeps frommy coat pocket.
We laugh at the interruption.
‘Get it,’ he says, and I reach in my pocket.
It’s a text.
FromLANoah. The producer.
‘Woah!’ I exclaim and Mark leans in, excited. I show him the name. ‘It’s that guy.LANoah! The one who seemed so keen when I was there – texting me every day – but then just never asked me out.’
Mark is nodding, he remembers.
‘I haven’theard from him in ages,’ I muse.
‘For the love of fuck, just open it already,’ he says, exasperated. I click on the message and start reading it silently. It’s long.
‘Out loud,’ he snaps and I clear my throat.
‘So, hi,’ I read. ‘It’s me, Noah, that guy you’ve already forgotten about from your first night inLA. I hope this isn’t too unwelcome a message. I don’t know if you want tohear from me, but – forgive me this cliché – I felt like there was some unfinished business between us.’
Mark interrupts me with a whoop, which I ignore. This is a lengthy message and we’re just getting started.
‘I know my behaviour was kind of weird when you were inLA,’ I continue reading. ‘But I’ll be honest and hope this doesn’t sound like some stupid line; I was in a bad place aftermy divorce. The fact is, I really liked you, I wanted to talk to you all night and I haven’t felt a connection like that in years. And believe me, I kept wanting to ask you out during those next few weeks. I loved our text conversations, they made me laugh so much. But I kept chickening out. I knew my head was in too much of a mess. And you were only there a few weeks. It sounds heavy, but I didn’twant to risk falling for you. It was too much to chance when I was still so fragile.’
Mark lets out a low whistle and I stop to stare at him,open-mouthed. This is so out of the blue. I can’t believe it.
There’s more.
‘Listen Alice, I know this seems ridiculous, and out of nowhere, but things are a lot better with my head these days. I’ve been having therapy (I live inLAso of courseI’ve been having therapy). It’s helped a lot. I feel much more sorted, and I at least wanted to explain myself to you. The cliché applies: It wasn’t you, it was me. And I’m sorry for that. There is one more thing ... I’m coming to theUKfor work in September and I wondered if I could finally take you out on a date?’ He’s finished with a sweet single x.
Mark shrieks. ‘Is that the end ofit? Essay much, Noah?’ I nod, completely flummoxed. He takes the phone off me and silentlyre-reads the text. His eyebrows shoot up as he reaches the end.
‘Phew,’ he says, putting the phone down at last, his perfectly arched brows on the ceiling.
‘So, what do you think?’ he says, before adding, ‘This guy actually sounds pretty on the level to me. The message is a bitOTT, but feels heartfeltand honest, don’t you think? How do you feel?’ He looks at me expectantly and I giggle.
‘Um,’ my head is spinning. ‘I don’t really know. He’s sogood-looking, and we had some great chats on WhatsApp. He makes me laugh, but ...’ I pause. ‘I think he might bore me, to be honest.’
Mark cocks his head at me. ‘Why?’ he says, looking puzzled.
Why? That’s an interesting question. Why doI think Noah might bore me?
Mark continues, not waiting for me to get to the answer myself.
