Читать книгу Jenny Colgan 3-Book Collection: Amanda’s Wedding, Do You Remember the First Time?, Looking For Andrew McCarthy - Jenny Colgan - Страница 18

We sat in my sitting room giggling and trying to play the tape. I was terrified about noise, as Linda had put a big sign up on my door that said, ‘Please don’t make nois!!’ [sic], so I felt a bit in the last-chance saloon.

The tape crackled and spat through a lot of rustling – and a fair bit of chewing on Fran’s part – and eventually cut into the conversation:

‘You know, I’m only telling you this for your own good, but you can be incredibly naïve, Melanie.’

The familiar tinkle. I cringed.

‘Why do I let her say this stuff?’

‘Because you have no self-esteem,’ observed Fran. ‘If she said anything nice, you’d think she wasn’t good enough for you, and you’d never see her.’

I tried to work this out as the tape ran on, but the tape took over. It was unbearable. By the time it got to my famous ‘I do believe in all that crap’ speech, I was rolling on the floor in embarrassment – first, at my Estuary tones, and second, at the whole ghastly situation of hearing yourself talk bollocks when pissed, which in most of life is fortunately never repeated.

I leaned over and switched the tape recorder off.

‘Well, that’s it then,’ I said.

‘What?’ Fran grabbed the recorder back fiercely.

‘You’re not playing that to Angus. Or Fraser. Or anyone. I’m throwing it out right now.’

‘But, Mel,’ said Fran innocently, ‘I believe!’

‘Shut up!’

‘No! No, I do now truly believe in the power of love, thanks to your moving words.’

‘Fuck off!’ I leapt at her to try and grab the tape. She grabbed my arms and we rolled about on the carpet, knocking over a frilly lamp with a paisley shade. It crashed off the coffee table.

‘Oh God.’ I sat up, while Fran held the tape out of my reach. ‘SHH!’ From next door there came the almost imperceptible sound of a long sigh. Come on, I beckoned Fran quietly, and we went into my bedroom, which was the other side of the flat at least, and you could shut the door properly.

‘You definitely can’t play that bit,’ I hissed. ‘It makes me sound like fucking Barbara Cartland. Fraser will think I’m in love with him.’

Fran wasn’t listening, instead gently crooning ‘The Power of Love’ to herself. I kicked her.

‘Wind it on. Wind it on to that bit with Mookie in the limousine.’

Unfortunately, Mookie in the limousine sounded exactly like Bagpuss, only with less distinctive vowel sounds.

‘What’s she saying?’ I leaned close to it. ‘“I agwee?” What does she agwee with? Jesus, that’s dreadful.’ The tape filled up with traffic noises.

‘This is pointless,’ I said.

Fran looked at me. ‘It’s not pointless. You’re only going to have to play the first bit to the boys. So what if they think you’re an over-romanticized idiot?’

‘I think there are enough people in the world already who think I’m an idiot,’ I grumbled sulkily. ‘I don’t want you to play that stupid tape. Let them get married. I don’t care.’

‘Fine. I don’t care either.’

‘Fine.’

‘Fine.’

‘Oh God.’

Fran’s lip curled.

‘OK, play the damn thing. Can you tell them it’s not me?’

‘That’s right, it could be almost anyone of a million friends I had at that hen night. With a Woking accent.’

‘I’ve got it! Stop it immediately before that bit. Then you just hear the Amanda being a cow bit and nobody gets to hear my speech.’

Fran pulled the spare mattress from under my bed and put the tape recorder under the pillow.

‘But that would be no fun,’ she protested.

‘Hey, nobody said a detective’s life is easy, schweetheart.’

Alex and I met up the next day. He’d been out with some of his pseudo rock-star mates, and looked pretty wasted. I wanted to do some early Christmas shopping, but knew there wouldn’t be much point in suggesting it, so we were lazing around in Charlie’s house, nursing our hangovers.

I’d told him about the invites, and he’d offered to phone up and get me into the wedding if it meant that much to me, then I’d had to explain that that wasn’t the point, then he’d said, well, what was the problem then, and I’d looked at him like he was a moron and he’d shrugged his shoulders and said what did I want him to do, go read Men Are from Mars and Women Are from Venus? and I said no, forget it, I was having my period.

But I couldn’t stay in a strop, because I had to tell him about the night before – in a highly edited version of course, centring around the idea that I might have some ethical concerns about the whole business. He couldn’t believe we’d actually gone so far as to wire ourselves up, and thought it was pretty cool.

‘Shall we join the FBI when we grow up?’ I asked him dreamily.

‘Yes, I think so. Do you think they get a million morons a day asking to join their alien division?’

‘I don’t know. Let’s phone them up, ask to join, and measure how pissed off the person’s voice is. Those are the kind of forensic detective skills you need to join.’

Alex nodded sagely. ‘So what are you going to do with the tape?’

‘I don’t know. Fran thinks we should play it to Fraser. I’m not so sure.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well … it’s illegal, isn’t it?’

‘So, you think Fraser might report you to the police?’

‘No … although I couldn’t join the FBI with a record.’

‘Or without American citizenship. Come on, do you really think it’s criminal?’

‘No-o-o … I just think it was a bit embarrassing and I kind of wish we hadn’t done it now. I mean, what if Fraser just shrugs his shoulders and never talks to us again?’

‘Well, you know me, I don’t really give a shit about this wedding … or any wedding for that matter …’

Point taken.

‘… but if you think it’s such a horrendous idea, well, then don’t you want to stop it? Like you won’t let your friends drive drunk, will you?’

‘Oh God, not that damn crocodile again.’

‘What?’

‘Never mind. I do want to stop it. I just didn’t think I’d actually, you know, have to do hard things.’

‘That’s why people tell other people to mind their own business.’

‘I know.’

‘But if they insist on interfering, pumpkin … they should carry it through. Can I hear it?’

‘No.’

‘Why not? What does it say on it? Does Amanda renounce Fraser because she’s desperate for my body?’

‘You wish.’

Alex shrugged.

‘Really? Would you really wish?’

‘No, my darling, I prefer my women more … Rubenesque.’

‘Fuck off! I can’t believe it. If she walked in here naked right now and offered it to you, would you take it?’

‘Are you still here at this point?’

‘No. Say I don’t even exist.’

‘Well, maybe.’

‘Maybe?’

He grinned. ‘Well, you know …’

‘But she’s evil!’

‘So you say.’

‘You’ve seen her be evil!’

‘When?’

He was right. I couldn’t remember a single occasion. God, she hid it well in front of men.

‘You have the morals of a lobster,’ I grumbled.

‘Oh, come on. You asked.’

‘Yes, and you’re supposed to say “no”. Always. Even if it’s like a whole Helena Christensen/Naomi Campbell lesbian-type thing. You’re always supposed to say no, you’d prefer me.’

‘But you don’t exist.’

‘Yes, well, apart from that.’

Charlie wandered in. When he saw me, he looked slightly embarrassed. I didn’t say anything.

‘Hey,’ said Alex.

‘Hey,’ said Charlie. Then he took a deep breath.

‘Urm … Melanie.’

I looked up, surprised.

‘I’m terribly sorry about last week.’

‘Oh, I’d forgotten all about it,’ I lied.

‘Huh. Right-oh. Erm, how’s that friend of yours?’

‘Which one?’ I asked him deliberately.

‘Yas, you know, erm … Fran.’

I smiled, and decided to embellish it a bit. ‘Oh, she’s doing absolutely great! Ever since she started seeing Angus …’

‘She’s seeing Angus?’ cut in Alex abruptly. ‘Since when?’

‘Since that night, actually.’

Charlie looked utterly crestfallen. ‘Gosh, I rather buggered that up then.’

‘What?’ said Alex. ‘She had her tongue down that other guy’s throat when we left.’

‘Well, you know Fran. Always up for a bit of adventure.’

Charlie perked up a bit. ‘Really?’

‘Only with Scottish people though,’ I said sympathetically. His crest fell again and he turned and left the room.

‘Damn gorgeous totty,’ he muttered as he went.

Ooh, it was working.

I studied Alex. ‘You looked utterly dumbfounded that Fran might have a boyfriend.’

He made a hangdog face. ‘Not really. It’s just I’d never have put those two together. Mind you, they’re both pretty fierce.’

‘No they’re not!’ I said indignantly. ‘OK, Fran is pretty fierce. But Angus is a big pet. He’s really sweet.’

‘So, it won’t last long then. D’ya want tea?’ Alex went through to put the kettle on.

Actually, it’s already finished, I thought to myself, slightly embarrassed for having fibbed about something so pointless.

‘You told them WHAT!?’ said Fran.

‘I thought it would be funny. Wind Charlie up a bit.’

‘I decide when I want to wind Charlie up.’

‘Oh yeah, NEW RULE!’

‘Oh, forget it. You really have a big mouth, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, you mentioned that.’

Hurt and annoyed, I slumped back in my chair. We were in a greasy caff in North London waiting for Angus, who had been pestering us to know what had happened to the tape. I fiddled disconsolately with the grubby sauce bottle and drank my slightly suspect tea.

‘Angus!’ she said in a pleased tone as he popped into our booth, shaking the rain off like a dog.

‘Angus!’ I mimicked under my breath, then gave up and grinned at him. He grinned back and sat down opposite me and next to Fran, his heavy ribbed grey jumper taking up more than half his side. He pushed back his dark red hair.

‘Well?’ he said heartily.

I looked at Fran. ‘Breakfast first!’ she said, and we trooped up and ordered bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, beans, eggs, and white bread and butter, with a cholesterol seizure to follow.

‘I am honour bound to say,’ began Fran, once we were all tucking in, ‘Mel doesn’t want me to play this tape.’

‘Why not?’ said Angus, looking at me intently.

‘Well, you know, there was this big bunch of free champagne, and Amanda says lots of incriminating things, and I say, you know, lots of moronic things,’ I said quickly.

He smiled and his eyes went all crinkly. ‘Och, I never say anything stupid when I’m drunk.’

I smiled back. ‘Actually, normally I make trenchant political speeches about the European monetary system. I do not know what came over me on Friday.’

‘Must have been a bad pint … of champagne.’

‘OK, you two, have you got a sec?’

‘Yes,’ said Angus. ‘Bravery of the officer noted.’

Fran brought the recorder out. I cringed, and paid very close attention to my sausage. Angus watched me quizzically.

The mannered tones came across clearly:

‘You know, I’m only telling you this for your own good, but you can be incredibly naïve, Melanie. This … I mean, hell, it’s a great excuse to have a party, but it’s also a bloody practical affair. That castle needs sorting out, and Daddy’s happy to put up the loot to do it with.’

Angus’s face went red. ‘Bloody cow,’ he said vehemently.

‘Don’t you love him?’ That was me, and I winced.

‘He’s a nice chap. It’s a good situation. It’ll be a fabulous wedding.’

She went on to talk about Fraser being all right, and someone who would have no objections to her living her life.

‘Does Fraser think that?’ I whispered to Angus.

‘Of course he fucking doesn’t.’ His fried egg was all but forgotten.

Here came my big set speech.

‘I don’t care,’ I heard myself howl petulantly. ‘I do believe in all that crap.’ On and on and on. ‘So, I think you lose!’ My voice cracked at this bit, as I got ready for stomping off. My entire body cringed.

Fran switched the tape off after that.

‘Thanks,’ I grimaced at her. ‘You could have switched it off before.’

‘Could I?’

Then we just sat there in silence for a bit. Angus looked cross. ‘He’s so stupid,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe he’s a year older than me but so completely stupid.’ Then he looked at me across the grimy table.

‘Do you really think all that stuff you said?’ he asked suddenly.

I shrugged. ‘Maybe. I’m sorry about the castle bit.’

‘Well, I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all. And the castle is complete crap. I think you were quite right,’ he said. ‘And so does Fraser. That’s why we’ve got to stop him getting into this mess.’

‘Are you going to play it to him?’ asked Fran.

Angus heaved a sigh.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Gus!’ I implored him. ‘After what I went through?’

‘Oh yes, I only did the taping and wore the wire and sorted it all out and switched it on and off inconspicuously,’ huffed Fran.

Angus looked at the remains of his breakfast. ‘Oh God, it’s just so embarrassing. And so wrong.’

We nodded our heads.

‘But I suppose I have to.’

We nodded our heads again.

Fran got up to refill her coffee cup.

‘Mel,’ Angus whispered urgently, ‘would you … would you come with me when I play the tape?’

I was touched.

‘Well, yeah … Why did you ask me?’

‘Ehm … in case it gets a bit messy and he tries to punch me or something. And you and Fran are the only women I know down here.’

‘Oh, right. Why don’t you ask her?’

‘I will if you like. But you know Fraser and … and, well, I’d rather have you.’

‘Cool. OK.’

‘OK what?’ said Fran, rejoining us.

‘OK, that is definitely the best way to lift scum off a cup of tea,’ I said, picking up my cup.

‘Fascinating,’ said Fran. ‘Do you know, I think you two are made for each other.’

We had to pick a night Amanda would be out. Fortunately, that was every night, so it wasn’t too difficult. She’d moved Fraser into her little pied-à-terre, after complaining too vehemently about his shared boy-tip in Finsbury Park and the copies of FHM left wrinkled up by the toilet for use in emergencies. They were only there temporarily: her father was scouring London for a large townhouse suitable for his noble offspring.

Where they lived at the moment turned out to be a small but immaculate apartment in a mansion block in St John’s Wood, next to Regent’s Park. Angus and I met up beforehand, to plan, and for moral support. The November wind was freezing as we walked across the park. Angus betrayed his nerves by constantly kicking leaves out of the way.

‘Right,’ said Angus, ‘how are we going to do this?’

‘Have you got the tape?’

‘OK, let’s start a little later than that bit.’

‘Ehm … really, I think we should just go in and not be nice at all. Just push past him with stern faces and say, “Look Fraser, there’s something we have to tell you.’”

‘In a deep American voice?’

‘Yeah.’

I wrapped my arms around me.

‘Are you cold?’

‘Nervous. And cold.’

He clapped his arm round me briefly, which did the trick, as I blushed incredibly red and got warm almost immediately.

‘We’re nearly there.’

‘We have to be brutal about this, Gus. We’ve got to walk in, just tell him, put the tape on and get out of there. He’ll forgive you in – oh, four or five years.’

Angus didn’t say anything.

‘What? Are you wishing you had brought Fran after all?’

‘No … I was just thinking.’

‘What?’

He looked around.

‘That it’s a nice night for a walk. It feels such a shame that we’re going to, well, you know …’

‘Do a nasty thing.’

‘Yes.’

We walked on.

‘Actually, it’s a freezing cold and miserable night for a walk,’ I said.

‘Yes. I suppose it is.’

‘Shall we go and do a nasty thing then?’

‘Yeah, all right.’

My mysterious and stone-faced FBI persona lasted about ten seconds after Fraser answered the door.

‘Hi! Come in, great to see you! Hello, Mel dear.’ He kissed me on the cheek. Every time I saw him, I remembered how lovely he was.

This was not going to be easy.

‘Did you survive the hen night all right? ‘manda told me it was amazing.’

‘Yeah, yeah, it was.’

‘Hello, Gustard.’ He playfully punched Angus on the stomach. Angus was doing better than me, and gave a quiet half-smile.

‘Come in, come in. What do you want? Beer, wine …?’

He split off into the kitchen and we trooped into the tiny but tasteful living room. The carpet and the sofas were white, which made me extremely nervous. There was a leopardskin bean bag in the corner and some expensive-looking candlesticks dotted around. Fraser had put out little bowls of peanuts and crisps, obviously in anticipation of our visit. They gazed at me pitifully, so I ate a few for luck.

‘Amanda doesn’t like people coming round usually – she worries about the carpet,’ said Fraser, emerging from the kitchen with three glasses and an open bottle of red wine. I gulped.

‘Really? Where is she tonight then?’ I asked.

Angus shot me a dirty look and I realized this was not the time for small talk.

Fraser motioned for us to sit down and make ourselves comfortable. The sofa was squashier than it looked and, as I sank into it, a dribble from the wine glass made its way over the side. Fortunately, it dropped on to my trousers. Angus stayed standing up.

‘Oh, God knows. She’s always disappearing to some do or other.’ He laughed. ‘I can’t keep up.’

‘Don’t you go?’

‘No chance. Totally BORING.’

I nodded, and took some more crisps. ‘Actually, the hen night …’

Angus cleared his throat overdramatically and we both looked up at him. He pulled the tape recorder out and sat down next to me. I covered my glass with my hand.

‘Fraser,’ he said seriously, ‘Melanie and I …’

Fraser smiled at the sombreness of the tone, but leaned forward to hear.

‘We have something to say to you about your wedding.’

We did? I didn’t remember agreeing this.

‘Well, really, I’m more here for moral support …’ I said.

Angus ignored me, continuing: ‘Fraser, Ah hate to have to tell you this, but … Ah don’t think you should marry Amanda.’

Fraser sighed and gulped his wine. ‘I don’t believe it. I mean, you have actually told me that before. In fact, nearly every day since I met her. Please don’t say that’s what you came here for. God, and I thought you were coming round to visit me.’

‘Aye, well. And Mel agrees with me.’

Fraser looked at me, wounded.

‘But I thought …’

I gazed back at his stricken face, feeling horribly guilty and embarrassed.

Angus ploughed on regardless: ‘And we’ve got some proof … I’m sorry.’ He put the tape recorder down on the table. One of the wrought-iron candlesticks fell over.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Fraser. ‘Are you forming some Moonie-type cult which aims to outlaw marriage for brothers?’

‘No.’

‘Then why the fuck don’t you just keep your nose out of it?’

‘Because your ma brother, for fuck’s sake.’

‘What’s on that tape?’

‘Melanie talked to her. She doesn’t love you, you idiot. She just wants to have some kind of title and swank about and get in Hello! magazine and have posh people for friends because she’s actually a completely shallow cow.’

Fraser looked at the tape as if it was a snake.

‘Is that what she says?’ he asked me.

‘Not exactly,’ I whispered. My voice sounded shaky. I felt absolutely terrible.

He stalked to the other side of the room – which, given the size of it, took two seconds – grabbed the sill and stared out of the sash windows.

‘Play the damn thing then.’

Angus was looking at me, but I couldn’t look back. This was much much worse than I ever thought it would be. I’d had visions of him even thanking us. Angus leaned over and clicked the switch, and there it came again:

‘You’re so naïve, Melanie.’

It echoed in my brain like a special effect.

‘You’re so naïve, Melanie.’

Of course I was, otherwise what was I doing in this tiny, pristine, overheated room, betraying one friend and losing another?

‘You’re so naïve, Melanie.’

Who did I think I was, Mystic Meg? What had I done this for? Silently, I began to cry. This lovely, gorgeous bloke was still going to get married, and he was going to hate me into the bargain.

Fraser stood stock-still, looking out into the rain and the heavy traffic. Fortunately, Angus managed to stop the tape before my big speech, so at least we were spared that.

Nobody spoke for what seemed like a long time. I was trying to dry my tears without anyone noticing. Unfortunately, to maintain the silence, I had to let some snot drop out of my nose so I didn’t have to sniff. It plopped quietly on to the white rug, and I rubbed it with my foot.

Finally, Fraser turned round.

‘So, actually, she didn’t say any of those things you mentioned, about the title and the magazines and all that shit.’

I could feel Angus looking at me, but I couldn’t return his gaze. Fraser’s voice was furious.

‘In fact, she spoke for ten seconds about keeping her individuality after she gets married and having thought the damn thing through beforehand, and you take that as proof that she’s some kind of social-climbing bitch. Like you know anything about my wedding, or about my girlfriend or my own fucking life. Not only that, you manage to draft some of my friends into this idiotic scheme … Melanie, are you crying?’

‘Nooo,’ I whimpered.

He came and stood beside me and patted me on the arm – which of course made it worse – without stopping talking.

‘I mean, Gus, what the fuck do you want? What do you really want? Do you want the damn title? Because you’re making so much bloody fuss about it, you might as well have it. It doesn’t matter to me, but it looks like it matters to you.’

‘Of course it doesn’t matter to me,’ growled Angus, who looked sullen and red.

‘Well, what then? What the hell is it? Why won’t you leave this damn thing alone? You’re trying to sabotage this whole thing, and I don’t even know why.’

His face was a mixture of anger and misery, and genuine miscomprehension.

Angus bowed his head low. ‘I’m sorry we came.’

‘I’m sorry you came. And why are you dragging Melanie into it, for God’s sake?’

I snuffled.

‘I’m sorry I did that too,’ said Angus. ‘I meant well. I’m sorry.’

‘Please,’ said Fraser. ‘Please, just … leave it alone. You’re like a dog with something between its teeth, Gus. Always have been. You won’t let things fucking well alone.’

‘I’d better be going.’

‘You better had.’

I stood up awkwardly to follow him.

Fraser took my arm and looked at me with some concern.

‘Are you going to be OK?’

‘Do you hate me?’ I choked.

He smiled sadly. ‘No, of course not. Gus, are you going to take her home?’

Angus nodded. Fraser turned away from us.

‘Bye then.’ It was a dismissal.

We trooped through the corridor. As we got to the door, Angus turned round and went back to the sitting room. Blindly, I followed him.

‘Do you …’ he began, as he stepped through the door.

Fraser was sitting there, staring at the tape recorder in his hands. He looked up at his brother, his eyes damp.

‘What?’ he growled, caught off guard.

Angus blushed furiously. ‘Nothin’. Just wondering about cabs. Bye.’

That time we left for good.

Angus strode fiercely through the park, the rain blowing back his hair and coat, all mention of a cab apparently forgotten. I trotted along beside him, ashamed of myself, and terrified of what he was going to say. I felt like such a stupid girl. He didn’t speak for what seemed like miles. I was tempted to slip quietly behind him and go the other way, but I didn’t dare. Suddenly, in the dark, I tripped over something or other and let out a strangled yell. Angus whipped back and immediately his stony face softened.

‘Are you OK?’ he yelled across the wind.

‘I’m … fine,’ I croaked, although I didn’t feel fine at all. I tried to stand up, and it was agonizing. Angus caught me keeling over.

‘What’ve you done?’

‘I … I think I’ve twisted my ankle.’ I leaned on him heavily, feeling a bit green.

‘Are you going to be sick?’

‘I wouldn’t …’ I tried to take a step forward, ‘rule it out as a possibility.’

‘Great,’ he said gloomily, supporting my elbow. ‘Is this the best evening out you’ve ever had?’

I managed another step, wincing. ‘Well, it’s the best freezing cold family feud twisted ankle evening out I’ve ever had.’

‘That’s something, I suppose.’

He indicated a park bench, but I could see the lights of Camden in the distance and pointed to them.

‘Can you make it?’

‘Can you carry me?’

‘I could try.’

I giggled. ‘Only kidding. I’d kill you. Just let me lean on you for a bit.’

The next ten minutes were agony, but finally we collapsed in the first pub we came to. It was so good to be out of the cold and the wet, I felt better already. The pub was quiet and old-fashioned. It actually had a fire lit in the grate, and we sat beside it to dry off.

Angus got up to fetch me a whisky. I’d rather have had a glass of white wine, but I stuck to his judgement in situations like this.

Angus returned with two large glasses. ‘Thank God for civilization,’ he said.

‘Can I have some ice in mine?’

‘No, you bloody well can’t.’

‘That’s not very civilized, telling people what to do.’

We both stared into the fire for a bit.

‘What do you think will happen?’ I ventured finally. Angus heaved a sigh.

‘I wish I knew,’ he said. ‘I felt like such a bloody fool. Tell me it had to be done, Mel.’

I thought of Fraser’s face – so pained and miserable.

‘Ehm … I suppose so.’

Angus rubbed his eyes. ‘It’s the rest of his life. Every day, having to wake up next to someone who thinks he’s an idiot. Oh God, I don’t know. I just hate her so much. And, you know, I’ve only got one brother. Since Dad died … we’ve been really close. Well, I thought we were.’

‘Have you fallen out before?’

‘Not like this. Apart from the whole Star Wars figures thing. But that was a long time ago. Normally, when I speak to him about the wedding he treats it as a joke … but it’s getting so close.’

‘God, yes … it’s soon, isn’t it?’

‘Three weeks’ time. Pyrford village church. Good Protestant vicar and four hundred guests to a five-course meal.’

‘Not for me.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry …’

‘Nope, I don’t care.’

‘You may not have to. Did you see the way he was holding that tape recorder?’

‘Yes, because he was so pissed off with you.’

‘Did you think so? I thought he was pissed off with her.’

I sipped my drink.

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Mel, can I ask you a question?’

I hate it when someone says that. What they usually mean is: Mel, can I insult you and get away with it, having warned you in advance?

‘Uh-huh?’

‘Why did you start crying?’

‘That’s, umm, a very good question.’

‘Sorry. I don’t mean to intrude.’

‘It’s OK. I’m really sorry, actually. I got upset about things – it seemed so rotten. Why can’t everyone just be nice and end up with nice people? … That sounds pathetic.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ he said gently. ‘Do you include yourself in “everyone”?’

‘That’s the standard definition, isn’t it? I’m sorry. About all of it.’

‘Oh, it’s my fault. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll recover. We are brothers, after all. Blood and stuff. I think I’ll give him a wee ring in the morning, once it’s all blown over a bit.’

Phew, at least I didn’t have to do that. I finished my whisky and suddenly felt enormously sleepy.

‘How are you going to get home?’ asked Angus.

I realized to my surprise that, actually, I didn’t want to go home; I wanted to curl up in front of this big fire and put my head on his shoulder. But I didn’t say that.

‘I can’t get a cab; it’ll cost a fortune,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll phone Alex. He can drive Charlie’s car and come and pick me up.’

Angus lent me his phone.

‘Does this work in underwater pipes?’ I asked, picking up the big thing with a huge fluorescent stripe down it.

‘Maybe,’ he grinned.

Charlie answered.

‘Is Alex there?’

‘Erhm – what?’

‘Charlie, it’s Mel.’ Brain of dough. ‘Is Alex there?’

‘Ehrr, um, I’ve just got in … Ehm, I’ll go and check.’

I shot Angus a look. ‘That boy gets more moronic every day.’

‘It’s the inbreeding.’

I nodded. There was a lot of scuffling in the background, and some whispering going on.

‘Hello?’ asked Alex doubtfully.

‘Alex? Hi, it’s me.’

‘Oh, hello, pumpkin. I, ehm, thought you were out tonight.’

‘I am. Was. Look, I’ve twisted my ankle, pretty badly. Do you think you could come and pick me up?’

‘Ehm … where are you?’

‘Camden.’

‘Camden. Jesus, that’s miles away! Can’t you get a cab?’

‘If I made twice the salary I do now, I would get a cab. Look, I’d rather not, I don’t feel well and I’ve really hurt myself.’ I started to get upset again. ‘Can’t you come and get me?’

‘Look, Mel, sweetheart, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.’

‘What? What the hell is it? Why do I have to plead with you to come and pick me up?’

‘Ehm, some of the lads are round and I’ve really had too much to drink to drive.’

‘I don’t believe you. I think you just don’t want to come and get me.’

‘Pumpkin, I would if I could, honest. Trust me, it’s just impossible. Why don’t you just take a cab home and I’ll see you tomorrow?’

There was a pause. I didn’t know what to say, so I hung up the phone.

Angus looked away, embarrassed. I waited till the urge to cry had passed and swallowed hard.

‘Bastard,’ I said.

‘Sounds like one,’ said Angus. ‘I’d carry you home.’

I looked at him. ‘You would too.’

‘Damsel in distress. My speciality.’

I laughed. ‘I’m tempted.’

‘Be tempted.’ His voice suddenly turned serious. He looked at me face on, with that direct gaze of his, and my heart started beating extremely fast. We looked at each other for what seemed like a long time. Our faces began to come a little closer. Then I moved slightly, and jarred my ankle really, really hard against the chair.

‘AAAYICK!’ I yelled, bending over. The whole sleepy bar looked over to see who was being murdered. I put my hands on my ankle, trying to make it better, but it was agony. Shockwaves of pain careered up my legs.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow.’

‘Oh, you poor thing.’ Angus got up with me, as I started hopping about on one leg.

‘Ow ow ow. God, my fucking ankle! It really fucking hurts.’

‘Do you want to lean on me? Go to Casualty?’

‘No, no no. Jesus! This has happened before. Ehm, the best thing I could do really is just go home and take some aspirin. Arsing hell.’

A look passed between us. The moment when whatever might have happened was going to happen had gone.

Angus went to the bar and called a cab. I was escorted out by him and the barman, and an hour later I was safely tucked up in bed with four Nurofen and the comfort of a guaranteed sickie in the morning.