Page 36 of A Face in the Crowd
I havegotto stop spending. I have no job and, wherever this money came from, it has got to last me until I figure out something else.
My buzzing phone is a welcome distraction: a text from Harry.
Hey! Just checking we’re still on for later? Looking forward to it! X
It takes me a few seconds to remember what he’s on about. With the memorial, the news of Jade, the money in Karen’s drawer and my own firing, things have passed me by. I scroll up and see our previous messages. I invited him over for seven. He’s bringing dessert and, possibly, wine – despite our joking about ‘wine people’ at The Garden Café. That means I’m supposed to provide a meal, even though there’s barely anything in the flat. I type out a reply, asking if we can do another time and hover a thumb over ‘send’.
There’s an M&S Food down the road that does pre-packed cooking bundles. Everything is ready for the oven and, voila, even the worst of cooks can pull off an apparently gourmet meal in an hour or so. I’ve never bought a single thing from that shop, largely because everything is more expensive than at Crosstown. Shopping there is a class thing, not a necessity. That’s what I tell myself, but I’m taunted by the stacks of cash still on the table.
I’m immediately going against the pledge I made myself barely minutes before. The bundle of food will be more expensive than individual items – and there would be cheaper places to stock up. It’s unnecessary spending, more waste. More money gone. One more step to oblivion.
I delete my first attempt at a reply and send a different response instead.
Deffo! See you then!
It’s not who I am. ‘Deffo’? What’s wrong with me? His reply doesn’t take long:
Fab! Am bringing chocolate volcano cakes!
I’m not sure if we’re going to get along, after all. Not only is he mad for exclamation marks but he’s drawn me into it. I tap out a wimpy ‘OK’ – no punctuation – and then turn to Billy. He’s still in his bed, watching me through half-closed eyelids.
‘Are you going to clean up or do I have to do it?’ I ask him.
He yawns and then puts his head down.
‘Fine,’ I reply. ‘I’ll do it.’
There is a knock on my door at precisely seven o’clock. I make sure all the M&S packaging is crammed down to the bottom of the kitchen bin, cover it with a piece of kitchen roll and then check myself over in the mirror to ensure I don’t look like a complete bag lady.
That done, I open the door to see Harry leaning against the frame as if he’s on the poster of a terrible romcom.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he says.
I look him up and down. ‘Jeans and a jacket again? Don’t you own anything else?’
He laughs as he comes in, pecking me on one cheek. It happens so quickly that I don’t have time to decide whether or not it’s fine. He crosses to the kitchen and puts two large carrier bags down on the counter, then crouches and turns towards Billy.
‘So you’re the cute little thing I’ve heard so much about.’
Billy raises his head and opens his eyes wider, then pulls himself up and out of his bed. He crosses a few steps to Harry and sniffs his hand. Harry rubs behind his ears, but Billy’s seen enough. He turns his tail and shuffles back to his bed.
Harry stands. ‘Does this mean he doesn’t like me?’
‘I think it means he’s indifferent to you.’
The two eye each other and then Harry spins back and opens up the bag on the counter. He doesn’t appear to have a problem with my meagre flat. ‘I didn’t know what you liked to drink,’ he says. ‘I got a bottle of red, one of white; miniatures of vodka, whisky, gin and rum; plus a four-pack of ale.’
I look at his unveiled haul and then at him. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’
He mock slams a fist on the counter. ‘Damn! You’ve figured me out.’ He straightens himself and then adds: ‘I figured we can have whatever you want and then there’ll be plenty left for next time…’
There’s a twinkle in his eye, but I don’t take the bait. The grin is fixed anyway as he carefully removes two small ceramic pots covered with foil.
‘These are the volcano cakes,’ he says. ‘My gran’s recipe. They only need to be warmed in the oven.’
‘Everyone wants to be aBake-Offcontestant nowadays.’
He laughs: ‘Better than anX Factorwannabe.’
