‘Oh!’ I laugh for no reason.
I suppose the last time I spoke properly to Paul – beyond ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!! Hope all is well!!!!!’ – was whenI was still dating my serious boyfriend, Idris. He was part of why Paul and I drifted. Not that Iddy banned us from hanging out or anything – it just happened, I guess. Paul was dating Celeste, I was all caught up with Idris, and the inevitable drift ended up with us on different friend-continents. I don’t think I’ve even messaged him on his birthday for the last couple of years. I suppose, with both of us taken, it seemed odd to maintain a friendship that was so obviously much more than a friendship.
‘Idris and I are ovahhh!’ I explain. ‘Soover. We broke up a couple of years ago and it couldn’t be more dead and do—’ I stop short, remembering that Idris is still on my list to speak to. Fuck.
‘Ah, right.’ He looks at me sideways and smiles. ‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘And what about you and Celeste?’ I say, sounding a little more tetchy than I meant to. ‘Are you guys still going strong?’
He shakes his head. ‘Celeste didn’t stick around,’ he says with a shrug. ‘I’m verrrrry single.’
‘I’m sorry.’ The nausea is back, and I instinctively reach to stroke my stomach through my coat.
He grins sideways at me. ‘Don’t be sorry. I’m happy.’
‘Oh.’ I swallow some sick. ‘Jolly fine then.’
He stops in his tracks, turning to me. ‘What did you just say?’
‘Nothing.’ I stare into his eyes. So pretty.
He smirks. ‘You saidjolly fine. You can’t say that. It’sjolly goodor – ideally – no jollys at all.’
‘Why wouldn’t jolly fine be acceptable?’ I argue, trying not to laugh. ‘Fine is pretty much a synonym for good, so why wouldn’t jolly fine make sense?’
‘It definitely doesn’t.’ He shakes his head seriously.
‘We found out the other day,’ I begin, ‘that my friend Louise has spent her whole life saying “I’m playing ketchup”, instead of “playing catch-up”.’
He snorts at this. ‘I love that. My brother is still convinced unconscious people are coma-toast, instead of comatose. He reckons it makes sense because we refer to dead people as being toast.’ He squints at me. ‘Like, y’know, you’re toast, buddy! So when you’re halfway there, you’re coma-toast!’
‘You’re coma-toast, dude!’ I yell and a few people look over.
The smile on Paul’s face fades for a second and he takes my hand in his. ‘I was very sad when you stopped messaging me much.’ He sounds it. ‘And then it dried up altogether. I felt a bit like you didn’t want me around once you met your boyfriend.’
I squeeze his hand, feeling desperate and regretful. ‘I felt likeyoustopped messaging as much! Once you started dating Celeste, I felt a bit awkward bothering you with my silly life updates. And then I met Idris and it seemed funny to message you all the time, like we used to. A bit disloyal maybe.’
He smiles shyly. ‘Well, I’m glad we’re messaging again now.’
‘Me too,’ I whisper.
We start walking again, passing a small market full ofhideous-smelling cheeses that waft into our path. ‘Ooh, shall we?’ He raises an eyebrow.
I love cheese. There’s nothing better than a truly stinky, gone-off-looking cheese. But it’s not very romantic, is it? Maybe Paul just wants to be friends after all.
‘They have wine,’ he adds and I nod, very much sold.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
In the room next door, Louise and Sven – for maybe the first time ever – are having some really interesting sex. And as usual, Bibi and I are listening.
‘OK, so now you call me Althea the magic one,’ Louise is telling him in a sultry voice. ‘And I shall call you Ambrose the elf!’
‘Yes, my beloved Althea!’ a muffled voice obediently replies. ‘I come bearing a magical staff to take away your troubles!’
‘Ooh, I love your staff, Ambrose,’ she says. ‘And I need some of your magical potion to help soothe my ails.’
The other side of the thin wall, Bibi and I make eye contact and nearly die. I cover my mouth to stop from laughing too loudly, while Bibi finds an empty pint glass by my bed to press against the wall.
