Love Is... by Haley Hill Page B

Matthew chipped in, ‘or you might come back as a cockroach.’ He leaned in towards Kat and whispered, ‘One spelt with a “k” of course.’
    Kat smirked. Then when Klive was out of sight, she swiped Matthew’s burger and took a huge bite.
    It was nearing ten o’clock when the waiter began hovering around us, insisting he clear our plates. However, Matthew, whose belligerence appeared to be escalating with each drink, had deliberately ordered more food and another round of cocktails in an attempt to delay our departure.
    And Kat, who had been a teetotal fruitarian for the past three months, was now on her second burger and her fifth cocktail.
    â€˜Don’t leave us, Ellie,’ she said. ‘What will become of me if you go?’
    Matthew turned to her. ‘You’re wearing a saffron robe and have shaved your head. What else could go wrong?’
    Kat burst out laughing. Then started slamming her hand on the table. ‘Saffron,’ she said, her laugh escalating, ‘that’s so funny. Peshwari naan. Hilarious. Can we have another burger?’
    Victoria, who had been quietly consuming a Burgundian Chardonnay for the past few hours, sniffed and blinked repeatedly.
    â€˜I just don’t understand why you’re going to that ridiculous country,’ she said. ‘You have everything here.’
    Matthew held his hand up to stop her. ‘At least Ellie is trying to find happiness rather than just waiting to die in South West London, like you.’
    Victoria sat up and poured herself a glass. ‘I’m very happy thank you, Matthew. Just because I’m living a grown-up life, doesn’t mean it’s boring.’
    He laughed. ‘Your life is so boring, I can’t even bring myself to describe it. It’s all PTA and tennis club and: “how else can I spend my husband’s money?” You want Ellie to have the same pointless life as you, just to validate your own uninspiring choices.’
    I tried to interrupt but Matthew was in full flow.
    â€˜Ellie’s miserable. Just look at her.’
    I glared at him. ‘No, I’m not.’
    â€˜She has a business that’s failing.’
    â€˜It’s not failing,’ I interrupted.
    â€˜Oh, come on, Ellie. Record sales does not a successful business make. Your clients are deeply unhappy, they’re all getting divorced.’
    I put my hand up to speak but Matthew rattled on. ‘Your house is falling into disrepair and your marriage is in crisis.’
    â€˜Hang on a second.’ I put my hand up higher this time. ‘You’re the one with the crisis of a marriage. Not me.’
    Victoria and Kat turned to Matthew.
    He closed his mouth and his shoulders slumped.
    The waiter, who had resumed his hovering, leaned in. ‘Excuse me, sir, we need the table. The next guests are waiting.’
    Matthew looked up at him, gripping his steak knife. His knuckles whitened.
    Immediately, I imagined the scene culminating in a Peaky Blinders –style bar brawl and a ‘Bloodbath at Blood Burger’ morning headline, with a caption under Matthew’s mugshot: ‘Red meat binge sends patron into murderous rage’. There might even be a comment from Klive along with a link to the enrolment form on Swami P.’s website.
    â€˜If they want the table so badly,’ Matthew said, jaw tensed, ‘tell them to come and get it.’
    The waiter raised his eyebrows and then wandered off muttering something about another five minutes not being a problem.
    I leaned back in my chair. ‘This is the reason I’m going away,’ I said.
    Kat frowned. ‘Because there’s only a two-hour sitting for restaurants in London?’
    I looked at her and then around at the diners in the restaurant. I couldn’t see a genuine, non-alcohol-induced smile in the room.
    â€˜Because none of us have really figured it out,’ I said, downing the last of my