Page 19 of Taste

“According to legend, she makes the air go stale and then she comes and sits on the edge of the bed and blows on your feet. Wearing a cardigan.”

“Bullshit!” he said. “There’s no carpet here ’cause some twat brought a camping stove to cook his dinner on and nearly set fire to the room.”

“Seriously?” I laughed, silently congratulating myself for steering the two of us into a nice, civilised conversation.

“And the curtains?”

“Out of stock with the supplier, and there’s a part on order to fix the bloody loo. Happy? Any more annoying questions? No? Then go to sleep.”

“You said we had history,” I continued, undeterred by his gruff dismissal and the way he hoisted the duvet over his shoulder. His relentless tugging at the sheets left me with a bare back, and now I was getting cold.

“Forget about it.”

I was grateful for the darkness, because at least I couldn’t see his face or his disapproval, though I could almost smell it in the air as he spoke. Still, I went on.

“The first time I met you was here in this building, when I came for my interview. Did something happen then? I’m sorry if I said something to upset you, but you know me. I’m always blurting out things that come out wrong. I still got the job, so it can’t have been that bad?”

“You’re so full of shit. Even when I think you’re going to be reasonable and…normal…you still churn out bollocks like that. It’s not all aboutyou, Mark.”

“Sorry.” That was all I could think of to say. “I know I’m a self-centred prick, and I know I’m a lot to deal with.”

“Hence you’re single and stupid. Maybe you should think about that. Good night.”

“We’re not finished,” I said, getting up on my elbow. “You and I are in no way done here.”

“I, for one, will be downstairs at six o’clock sharp, and before that, I need to sleep. So, we are done.Godfrey.”

“I love that you call me that. Nobody ever has before. It’s kind of a cool name, you know? Imagine if I had grown up in the thirties or something and found myself a hot man who would have to pant outGodfrey! Oh, Godfrey!as I sucked him off through his pantaloons.” Giggling at my own words, I lay back down and tucked the duvet under my chin.

“Thank God I don’t have to share a bed with you ever again. Can you keep still? And shut the fuck up, mate.”

I couldn’t let it go. “Godfrey. Such a cool name. I might change it permanently. Godfrey Quinton sounds awfully posh for a restaurateur.”

“Mark.” He turned around, the light from the window glittering alluringly in his curls.

“Yes?” I whispered like a naughty child. He was about to tell me off. Sternly.

“Please stop.Please. Whatever you think is happening here, is not happening. You and I will never be anything. We will never do any of this shit again, and that thing that happened up in the pool? Nope. Mistake. Huge mistake. All this stops here. Don’t talk to me. Don’t rile me up. From now on, you and I will stick to strictly professional conversations with yes or no answers. Will that work for you?”

“Absolutely.” I snuffled. “Pass me a bit more of the duvet, will you? You thief.”

“Professional conversations. Yes or no answers only. Nothing else.” There was something in his voice I couldn’t quite interpret.

“Can I have one of your pillows? I only have one. There should be four in this bed, which means you have three stuffed under that pig-head of yours.”

“No.” And there it was. A muffled giggle.

“Pass us a pillow,mate.”

“Fuck off.”

“Okay, small proposal. Hear me out.” And here I went again. But I did have a plan. A stupid one, but a plan, nonetheless. “Neither of us are young and pretty anymore, but at the rate we’re going, we’ll both end up goddamn miserable bastards, two queens sat on the leftover shelf, flirting with the pretty young twinks as they heckle and laugh at the pathetic oldies who have no chance of ever getting lucky again. That’s our future, Finn. You get that, don’t you? But we have the chance to make something good here, you and me. We could spend the rest of our time on this earth growing old ungracefully, but we could do it together as friends. We’d have someone to laugh with, someone to love us back. Wouldn’t that be worth it? Taking down some of those fences you’ve built for a small patch of happiness? With me?”

He shuffled around violently, suddenly half sat up in bed, the air vibrating. I had got to him, good and proper.

“I knew you were deluded, but that is weird shit, even coming from you. Why the hell would you even think that would be on the cards? Go the fuck to sleep and leave me alone. End of conversation. Period. Stop.”

“Come on, Finn. Even you have to admit it can’t get worse than this. Is it really such a fabulous existence living in this bloody cloud of hate? Is it so important for you to hate me, every bloody second of the day, that you can’t even contemplate a reality where you don’t? Why can’t we just stop? Why can’t you at least try to like me? Just a little bit.”

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