The three of us took synchronised slurps of wine. I deliberately extended my own so I wouldn’t be the first one to take a breath and, thus, speak. Saskia lost the silent battle.
‘It’s just so great to have you here, isn’t it, Josh?’
‘Mmm, yeah,’ he replied quietly.
Saskia squeezed his knee before jumping to her feet. ‘Right then! I’ll go and start dishing up. It’s going to be a bit of a salady affair – hope that’s all right? Josh, you were right – Mallyishappy to endure a meatless meal!’
Saskia bounded into the kitchen, leaving me and Josh on opposite ends of the corner sofa that framed the window. A potted, living Christmas tree twinkled between us, though if the number of dropped needles that surrounded it was anything to go by, I wasn’t sure the word ‘living’ applied to it any longer. A tiny fragment of the Thames was visible from the balcony beyond if you angled your neck in the right direction.
Of course, it fell to me to address the elephant in the room. After all, wasn’t this the reason I’d been invited here?
‘So, then. Scarnbrook,’ I said, before sipping again.
‘Scarnbrook.’ The echoed word hung in the air for so long you could’ve hung tinsel on it. Neither of us had said it to each other for at least fifteen years.
‘You were there, too?’
He nodded, drinking more wine, his eyes focused on the Christmas tree or the sliver of river beyond, I couldn’t really tell. I sensed I needed to ease my way into this topic, rather than pour it over his head like the ice bucket challenge.
‘Ooh, you’ll never guess who I bumped into at The Star!’ I said, desperate to find common ground.
‘What, you mean beyond that Darren twat?’
‘Ha, yeah. Christian Woods! He’s trying to buy the pub and turn it into flats, believe it or not. It’s the only pub left in the village.’
Josh groaned and rolled his eyes, and I cheered internally. It appeared that I’d stumbled across a rare nugget of mutual disdain.
‘Not his biggest fan either, then?’ I asked.
‘He was always a slimy weasel with a flagrant disregard for the offside rule. He barely spoke to me back then – I don’t think he spoke to any of us who went to state schools – but these days he’s constantly DMing me whenever he’s in London to meet up and discuss “our respective ventures”. Frankly, I’d rather drink my own piss.’
I nearly spat out my wine. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d connected like this. His eyes were lit up in a way that took me back to Saturday nights in Scarnbrook when we were kids, the five of us watchingGladiatorstogether, and us taking the mick out of him for blushing whenever Jet appeared.
‘Yeah, he seemed like a right twat,’ I said. ‘He was trying to shove a new offer to buy the place in the manager’s face – my mate Becky, do you remember her?’
Josh nodded. ‘One of the twins, right?’
‘Yup. Well, I kind of stepped in and got him to take the contract away with him. For now, at least.’
‘Ha. Nice one.’
‘So… how about you? Did you… see anyone while you were there?’ I asked.
He shook his head, the glint in his eye switching off like a streetlamp at dawn.
‘Do you… go there often?’Nice one, Mally: probably one of the most important conversations the two of you will ever have and you’re somehow managing to make it feel like you’re trying out pick-up lines on your own brother. Ick.
Josh sighed, and closed his eyes, his jaw tensing. All of a sudden, he leapt up, his wine sloshing over the glass’s rim as he plonked it down on the wooden pallet coffee table.
His voice crackled as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this.’ He took seven quick strides towards the door at the opposite end of the apartment, entered what I presumed was his bedroom and shut the door loudly behind him. Saskia watched the whole thing open-mouthed through the giant hatch.
‘Josh! Mally, I’msosorry. I’ll be right back; please sit tight.’
I didn’t know what to do. Should I leave? Should I knock on the bedroom door to see if they were okay? Instead, I opted to do what I was told and stay where I was, straining my ears to listen to their intense murmurings, which then escalated into shouting, until Josh yelled, ‘You speak to her, then!’, at which point he emerged, clad in running gear, mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ to me and left the apartment without looking back.Shit.I mean, I hadn’t expected a perfect afternoon, but this was way beyond my wildest worries.
Saskia appeared a minute or so later, blotchy-faced, her eyes red and watery. She looked gutted.
‘Mally, I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe that just happened.’
