Page 44 of Textbook Romance

I maybe won’t tell her about my cosmic algae pubes.

Look, Ed and I are just grabbing dinner at the hotel restaurant. Do you want to join us for a drink in the bar in a bit? Say an hour?

Least I could do for the joy of this room. See you in a bit xx

Jack

‘Can you believe that’s what he did? It’s not hard, you know? It’s a decision we should make together but he just goes and does that without my input. And I was like, no. And he says I’m overreacting and I’m like, “Overreacting? You ain’t seen overreacting!”’

Oh, the Tube on Friday nights in London. Sometimes I wish I could bank half the things I’ve seen on here (I once saw someone with a pig on a leash) and some of the snippets of conversations. The two girls in the seats opposite me continue.

‘I can’t believe he did that, hon…’

‘Right, he can eat his poxy pizza on his own as far as I’m concerned. If you don’t ask me what toppings we’re getting, then you can piss right off.’

I look down and smile to myself as one of them goes into her clutch to retrieve some mascara and re-applies it using her phone camera. It’s a packed carriage tonight filled with the last of the work commuters and others headed out for the night, some hiding tins of alcohol in their pockets, full of energy and optimism for the night ahead. I know those nights out. It starts with the best of intentions where you head for dim sum and a bar but usually ends with you rolling out of a nightclub at least one hundred quid lighter, studying the night bus schedule because you’re worried a taxi will bankrupt you. London really needs to sort out its capacity to look after its inhabitants past midnight because seriously, it’s just kebabs and random buses getting us through.

I look back up and the girl opposite is smiling at me. Oh dear. I wasn’t smiling at you with your big fur coat and platform shoes. I was smirking at the ridiculous notion that you’ve had a row with your boyfriend over pizza. Row over the important things in life, not a bit of pepperoni. Do I smile back? I can’t. It’ll lead her on. Instead, I squint my eyes and pretend to read the ad above her about bleeding gums and the importance of mouthwash.

Next stop: South Kensington

You see girls, I’m quite grown up now. I’m headed to a hotel. These days I frequent hotels with bars, with drinks that may have fancy garnishes. I’m going to lean against a bar and delight in conversation against the backdrop of alternative trip-hop. There will also be free nuts. It feels very mature and I’m suddenly grateful to Mia and Ed for the invitation. Maybe the two of them have elevated my social standing. I’m now a pseudo-teacher, I’m going to establishments that have dress codes about trainers. With my thirties knocking on the door, this all feels very grown up for a change. I wait for the Tube to lurch forward before rolling to a stop and skip off, headed towards the escalators.

My phone pings as soon as I’m at ground level.

Are you nearby?

I exit through the barriers before replying.

Yeah, just round the corner. You got a table?

Kind of.

So we’ll be propping the bar up instead. Must mean the bar is packed but sign of a decent evening ahead if a good crowd is in there. As I approach it, I know we’re in different territory as there is a doorman, a reception full of people sat on velveteen sofas, a smooth marble floor with modern mood lighting. My phone still in my hand, I go to ring Ed.

‘Hello?’ There’s an interference on his phone that doesn’t quite sound like he’s in a bar.

‘Ed, mate. I’m in reception. You here?’

‘Oh… Look…’ The noise continues but I hear a siren in the background. He’s not here, is he?

‘Ed, are you driving? Have you guys left?’ I say, my disappointment palpable. That’s worse than being stood up and not a matey thing to do. I don’t know whether to be angry or not.

‘Look, this wasn’t my idea. It was Mia’s so blame her…’

‘You were the one who suggested the hotel.’ I hear Mia’s voice over the hands-free.

‘I really don’t know what’s going on, guys, but I’m here. Are you coming back?’

‘No. Look, can you see the signs for the bar? Just head there,’ Ed tells me. ‘I want to say trust us.’

‘Ed…?’

‘I’m sorry, mate.’

And with that he hangs up. What the hell, Ed? If anything, I’m more surprised that this is coming from Ed, who’s normally more reliable than this. I look at my watch. I wasn’t late. Did they maybe get so randy that they had to head home for a shag? I mean, we’re in a hotel if that was the case. I poke my head around the corner to look at said bar. Is it a vibe? It’s a bit generic. Cushioned cubicles, low lighting, a man on a piano. It’s the sort of place a travelling businessman comes to have an overpriced whisky. Well, I guess that person is me now. One drink to at least make the journey worthwhile. But as I head over to the bar, I see a person walking this way, weaving around tables searching for someone until her eyes land on me. She pauses for a moment before realising what’s happening, a large smile creeping across her face. She heads towards me.

‘Were you looking for Mia and Ed, too?’ I ask her.

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