Page 27 of Meet Me in Berlin

‘Why don’t you stop at your own ma and da’s for a fry-up?’

‘’Cause your parents have the best black pudding in all of East London.’

This is true. Mum and Dad own and run Stratford Meats, a local butcher that’s been in Mum’s family since her dad was a child. Customers queue every Saturday morning just for the black pudding.

A sudden craving gnaws at my belly. ‘God, that sounds good.’

‘Oh, come! We’ll stuff our faces with greasy food and slob on the couch for the afternoon.’

I consider it, questioning whether it’s worth the earache I’ll cop from Eva. ‘I’ll never hear the end of it if I leave now. Not that what I have to say matters much.’

‘No, because you’re just her fucking lapdog.’ Jaz’s voice rises over the rumble of a train.

‘I’m not totally her lapdog,’ I say, fiddling with the stem of my wine glass. ‘I stood up to her this morning. Told her I wasn’t coming here today.’

‘And yet, you’re there.’

I hear the train doors slide open. ‘She kind of … persuaded me.’

‘How?’ Jaz says, and then she laughs. ‘Oh my God. You are like, proper pussy-whipped.’

‘Well, she was naked, and it was in my face. How do you say no to that?’

‘Hmm. True. I know she’s your fiancée and all, but she’s well fit, so I don’t reckon I’d say no in that situation either.’

I laugh. ‘Nice, Jazzy. Glad I can trust my best mate.’

Jaz snorts.

I lower my voice. ‘Seriously, though. I don’t think I can do this. Each day my feet get colder. Look what I did last night – I was so close to snogging that woman. Why would I do that?’

‘Don’t beat yourself up. You were flirting a bit. Chill, yeah.’

‘Still. It’s a sign something’s up, innit? I can’t work out if it’s wedding nerves or the relationship. I’m so confused. Eva’s in there talking about top chefs and I’m just like, fuck, what am I doing? It’s just … really overwhelming.’ My breathing becomes laboured.

‘Jesus, mate, don’t hyperventilate. If this is how you feel, then you’re going to have to deal with this – and soon.’

‘I do love her, though. Like, I think I do.’

Jaz sighs. ‘Course you do. You have a good life. She’s a beautiful woman. And you were good together, for a while. But you’re not happy. Look, if you’re a spare part there, come and meet me at your parents’. We’ll have a nice fry-up. Chill for the afternoon. Go and meet my dad at the King’s Arms for a pint when he finishes work. Give yourself some space to think about what you want.’

‘I just feel bad, guilty like. I don’t want to hurt her. Her parents have put so much effort into the wedding and I feel like I’ll hurt them too.’

‘But this is your problem, Case. You never want to hurt anyone. It’s sweet, but you make it worse in the end. You can’t get married just because you don’t want to hurt her or her parents.’

‘I know, I know.’ I press my fingertips to my temple and massage, an attempt to ward off the throb that’s intensifying. ‘I’d better go. Oh, before I forget, Leila says hi.’

‘Leila? Who the fuck is Leila? Have I slept with her yet?’

‘I have no idea. She’s Eva’s friend. Small, long brown hair. Well pretty. She filmed the proposal, and you met at our place again a few weeks back.’

‘Hmm…’ She pauses. ‘Ohh. Leila. Amazing boobs.’

‘Erm … I guess. She’s quite friendly as well.’

‘Oh yeah, that too. Well, hel-lo, Leila. Tell her I said hi right back.’

I shake my head at her womanising. ‘Later, Jazzy.’

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