said.’
‘What’s it about?’
‘Love. Endless, yearning, aching love. The kind of love only a man in a videogame shop can have for a Polish waitress called Pamela. What you been up to?’
‘Gary came round.’
Dev’s face fell. But secretly, he loves stuff like this.
‘What did he want?’
‘To sort things out. Make sure there’s no bad blood. Call me buddy.’
‘He’s
brilliant
, is Gary. Enigmatic.’
‘But also – I think – to unnerve me.’
‘How so?’
‘He paused.’
‘He paused?’
‘He paused. On purpose. Started to tell me something. Then paused. Then didn’t tell me.’
‘Sometimes people pause. Sometimes I pause.’
‘You
press
pause. And this wasn’t just a pause. It was a notable pause.’
‘Sometimes I pause notably. I paused notably just the other night. People took note as I paused. I wouldn’t worry about it.’
‘I just think—’
‘Don’t think. If you think, you’ll never truly get over her. Thinking just extends things.’
So I decided not to think.
Upstairs, I finished my Bob & Alex review (3 out of 5) and stared at the screen.
Enigmash-up: A Journey through the Ego to the Id via You, Me & They
.
The cursor blinked at me, as surprised by the sentence as I’d been.
What the hell was I going to write about?
I studied the leaflet. Lots of inappropriate words were in bold and there were too many exclamation marks.
‘Kaiko Kakamara is one of Britain’s most surprising new artists!! His vision and tenacity have set the scene on fire, and his fans include …’
I suddenly lost the will to live and exhaled, heavily. Art is subjective, no? So my opinion is valid whatever. But is it valid even if I haven’t seen the exhibition?
Yes, I think it is. I began to type.
With fans including …
And ten minutes later, I emailed it off.
I sat back in my chair and thought about Gary. Why had he paused? And what would he have thought if he’d known I’d had a stranger’s photos?
And then my phone rang. It was Zoe.
‘Hello, dickhead. How are the words coming on?’
‘Emailed them off a moment ago.’
‘What did you think?’
‘You’ll find out!’
‘Of the exhibition, I mean.’
I picked up the leaflet.
‘Oh, you know. Surprising. Full of vision, and … tenacity.’
‘Gosh, it sounds amazing. And there was me, never taking you for an arty one.’
‘Well, it turns out I am.’
‘Do you remember at uni when we were in that house on Narborough Road with that French art girl and Dev and she asked you to do that life modelling thing and you nearly moved out because you thought she meant naked?’
I laughed.
‘She just wanted you to sit on a bench and hold an apple!’
Now she was laughing, that familiar, smoky laugh. We’d come close to being together, me and Zo, if you know what I mean. Just once at uni, after one of those fashionable School Disco parties. Her cousin had been in town and was being violently ill in her room so she’d snuck into mine and we’d watched
The Goonies
‘til dawn. So I knew she’d liked me once. Maybe she still did. Maybe that suited me, after everything.
‘So anyway, I didn’t see you there.’
‘Hmm?’
‘I didn’t see you at the gallery.’
I froze. Was she joking?
‘What do you mean?’
‘At the exhibition. I went along in the end.’
Was this a bluff? Or had I been found out?
‘You were there, were you?’ I said, with what I hoped was a light and jokey undertone, but which may very well have sounded like fear.
‘I was. I thought I’d stop by. Whereabouts were you?’
‘I must’ve been … in the other part.’
‘Which other part?’
‘The part just off the main part.’
‘There was no other part. There was hardly even a
main
part.’
‘Well, I only popped in, and it was so busy, so I just—’
‘It was half-empty. You didn’t pop in.’
In the background, I heard her computer ping. Shit. My email. My email had arrived.
‘I popped in! I popped my head round the
‘What’s it about?’
‘Love. Endless, yearning, aching love. The kind of love only a man in a videogame shop can have for a Polish waitress called Pamela. What you been up to?’
‘Gary came round.’
Dev’s face fell. But secretly, he loves stuff like this.
‘What did he want?’
‘To sort things out. Make sure there’s no bad blood. Call me buddy.’
‘He’s
brilliant
, is Gary. Enigmatic.’
‘But also – I think – to unnerve me.’
‘How so?’
‘He paused.’
‘He paused?’
‘He paused. On purpose. Started to tell me something. Then paused. Then didn’t tell me.’
‘Sometimes people pause. Sometimes I pause.’
‘You
press
pause. And this wasn’t just a pause. It was a notable pause.’
‘Sometimes I pause notably. I paused notably just the other night. People took note as I paused. I wouldn’t worry about it.’
‘I just think—’
‘Don’t think. If you think, you’ll never truly get over her. Thinking just extends things.’
So I decided not to think.
Upstairs, I finished my Bob & Alex review (3 out of 5) and stared at the screen.
Enigmash-up: A Journey through the Ego to the Id via You, Me & They
.
The cursor blinked at me, as surprised by the sentence as I’d been.
What the hell was I going to write about?
I studied the leaflet. Lots of inappropriate words were in bold and there were too many exclamation marks.
‘Kaiko Kakamara is one of Britain’s most surprising new artists!! His vision and tenacity have set the scene on fire, and his fans include …’
I suddenly lost the will to live and exhaled, heavily. Art is subjective, no? So my opinion is valid whatever. But is it valid even if I haven’t seen the exhibition?
Yes, I think it is. I began to type.
With fans including …
And ten minutes later, I emailed it off.
I sat back in my chair and thought about Gary. Why had he paused? And what would he have thought if he’d known I’d had a stranger’s photos?
And then my phone rang. It was Zoe.
‘Hello, dickhead. How are the words coming on?’
‘Emailed them off a moment ago.’
‘What did you think?’
‘You’ll find out!’
‘Of the exhibition, I mean.’
I picked up the leaflet.
‘Oh, you know. Surprising. Full of vision, and … tenacity.’
‘Gosh, it sounds amazing. And there was me, never taking you for an arty one.’
‘Well, it turns out I am.’
‘Do you remember at uni when we were in that house on Narborough Road with that French art girl and Dev and she asked you to do that life modelling thing and you nearly moved out because you thought she meant naked?’
I laughed.
‘She just wanted you to sit on a bench and hold an apple!’
Now she was laughing, that familiar, smoky laugh. We’d come close to being together, me and Zo, if you know what I mean. Just once at uni, after one of those fashionable School Disco parties. Her cousin had been in town and was being violently ill in her room so she’d snuck into mine and we’d watched
The Goonies
‘til dawn. So I knew she’d liked me once. Maybe she still did. Maybe that suited me, after everything.
‘So anyway, I didn’t see you there.’
‘Hmm?’
‘I didn’t see you at the gallery.’
I froze. Was she joking?
‘What do you mean?’
‘At the exhibition. I went along in the end.’
Was this a bluff? Or had I been found out?
‘You were there, were you?’ I said, with what I hoped was a light and jokey undertone, but which may very well have sounded like fear.
‘I was. I thought I’d stop by. Whereabouts were you?’
‘I must’ve been … in the other part.’
‘Which other part?’
‘The part just off the main part.’
‘There was no other part. There was hardly even a
main
part.’
‘Well, I only popped in, and it was so busy, so I just—’
‘It was half-empty. You didn’t pop in.’
In the background, I heard her computer ping. Shit. My email. My email had arrived.
‘I popped in! I popped my head round the
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