phone book it had been scrubbed out furiously â although whether by me or Fran I couldnât say â so I was stuck sitting there, still vainly tidying, till it rang.
âHey there.â Alex spoke softly. The tone of his voice made me soften.
âYouâve moved your stuff,â I said.
âWell, there didnât seem to be any point in hanging about. That flatmate of yours was giving me the evil eye.â
âReally, sheâs cross-eyed. She was really giving me the evil eye.â
âAh.â
There was a pause.
âDid you â¦â
âI got â¦â
We spoke simultaneously.
âI got the flowers. Thank you. Theyâre gorgeous.â
âI wanted to apologize. I didnât mean to hurt your feelings, and I should have phoned you when I stayed at Charlieâs last night. I just donât want to take anything too fast. But, you know, weâve got so much time. To get back together. For everything.â
âI know.â I sighed. âIt would have been daft. Far too quick. Etcetera.â
There was a silence, then he spoke tentatively.
âFriends again?â
âJust friends?â
âOh no. And will you come and visit me in Fulham?â
âNope.â
âNot even if I beg?â
âNo, but you can try a bit of begging if you like.â
âPlease!â he yelled. âMy darling Melanie, pearl and pumpkin of my life, take the immortal trip on the District Line and enter my realm of joy.â
I giggled.
âNope.â
âTonight?â
âNope.â
âSo Iâll see you around six?â
âNope.â
âExcellent. See you later then. Bring wine.â
He put the phone down and I smiled to myself.
ââOoâs that, your lesbian lover?â said Cockney Boy.
âYeah. Actually, itâs your mum.â
âFuck off.â
There was still Fran to deal with. I caught her at her house, or rather her bedsit. She lived sparsely, not far away from me in Kennington.
âFranster?â
âYouâve got your ingratiating tone on. Let me see: you want me to sponsor you on a round-the-world bike ride for badgers? You need me to donate some bone marrow? Or has Alex moved in with that creep Charlie and you havenât done anything about it?â
âEhmm ⦠are those all the options?â
âYup.â
âIâm sorry! I couldnât, not for that! He wouldnât understand! Oh, Fran, donât make me â¦â
âGod, what is this, Sophieâs Choice ? OK, fine. You want to go out with a wanker that lives with another wanker, then fuck it, thatâs how it is, flowers or no flowers.â
âYou know about the flowers?â
âWhat? Yeah, I got a big bunch, from Charlie. Odious little creep.â
âOhhh. I got flowers from Alex.â
âHow nice. They obviously bought them in a job lot.â
âHmm. How big was your bouquet?â
âENORMOUS. What about yours?â
âAverage. Average to good.â
âHa ha ha. Listen, bloody Amanda phoned me again.â
âWow, now sheâs falling in love with you.â
âShe just wanted the gossip on Charlie. And she wants to know if weâll help her pick out a tiara.â
âIâd rather eat my feet with a spoon.â
âMe too.â
Seven
We were sitting in an All Bar One, after spending six hours with Amanda trying to choose a fucking tiara because her mother was in the Priory, a drying-out clinic so exclusive that Amanda managed to make it sound like an absolute honour to end up there, and her bridesmaids were all in Barbados or somewhere. Not only had I been forced to make admiring noises in Amandaâs direction as she tried on four thousand identical filigree things that cost more than I make in three months, Iâd had to stop Fran from shoplifting out of delirious boredom. It had been a tiring day.
âSo,
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson