Page 9 of Textbook Romance

‘Did anyone else gift you a tree?’

‘No. Mia’s sister, who is not entirely pleasant, gave us a CD rack though.’

I laugh under my breath. ‘Retro.’

‘Who’s retro?’ a voice pipes in. Mia reaches out to greet me with a warm embrace and then puts her husband’s arm around her shoulder.

‘The music choice,’ I say. We all stop for a moment. It’s Riptide by Vance Joy which Sarah played on repeat at university.

‘I once had a boyfriend who used to play this on guitar to me. He’d serenade me after sex,’ Mia reminisces.

Ed looks at her strangely. ‘And this was something you enjoyed? Do I need to sing to you after sex now?’

‘Christ, no. It was desperately cringe. Just roll over and sleep, you twat. He thought he was a bit special, spliff hanging out of his mouth, a guitar covering his junk. It was not a special moment.’

There’s good energy between Ed and Mia, the way the conversation flows, the humour. Sarah appears next to us with a tray of canapés. ‘I MADE THESE!’ she announces, excitedly. And even though I joke about this house and this life she has, it is hugely endearing to see her so enthusiastic about it all.

‘What are they, lovely?’ I ask.

‘They’re cucumber sushi roll thingies,’ she tells us, and we all take one and bite into them, politely. I nod at her to indicate my approval and she links an arm through mine. That’s the one thing about Sarah. I tease her mercilessly, but she’s always held me close and looked out for me.

‘I thought you were bringing your new girlfriend today,’ she moans at me.

‘New?’ I say, a little confused. Ed and Mia lean in to find out more.

‘Imogen?’ Sarah says. ‘The girl with the ring in her nose.’

‘You make her sound like a bull,’ I tell Sarah, nabbing another of her canapés. ‘Sarah, we kinda called that quits in February. I saw you at Ed’s wedding anyway. I was there alone. Keep up, love…’

‘Well, you know. It’s hard to keep up,’ she jokes and Ed smirks.

Ed knows the reason I broke it off with Imogen was because I didn’t get her twelve red roses for Valentine’s Day, and she wrote me a very long WhatsApp message voicing her disappointment and outlining her future expectations on days of note in the calendar. One of the bullet points in her outline told me that one of those expectations involved me taking a week off on and around her birthday in October so I could dedicate my time to her.

‘Well, my dear, we can’t all be as lucky as you in love and life.’

‘Any other prospects on the horizon?’ she asks me. Sarah does this a lot. I don’t think she does it to be cruel but rather out of concern. It’s an all-encompassing question meant to enquire about my life in general.

‘I’ve met a contortionist called Phoenix and we’ve joined a Hungarian travelling circus.’

She looks at me and shakes her head. ‘And what will you do in this circus?’ she asks.

‘Lion taming, bit of juggling.’

Sarah huddles into me, rolling her eyes. ‘More the clown.’ We were both botanists at university and she left and went straight into a job in academia. I abandoned plants for family. It led to a variety of jobs, a house share and a string of makeshift relationships. I think she worried about me in that way, that I was off course, which meant I hadn’t worked out what life was yet. I worried less and just lived life my way. It wasn’t a linear journey, but I was fine.

‘I mean, you’ll get us in for free though, right? I love a circus,’ Ed enquires.

‘For sure.’

‘Are you still in your house share?’ Sarah asks. ‘Last time I went there, there was a DJ mixing desk in the bathroom.’

‘I am. I live with Ben and Frank, and we like a bit of techno when we’re taking a…’

Sarah puts a hand to the air.

‘BATH! When I’m taking a bath. You really think I’m quite uncouth, don’t you?’

She shakes her head at me, laughing. ‘But seriously, where are you working at the moment?’ Sarah asks. ‘Are you still an escort?’

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