Page 35 of Alice Carver Manifests Her Perfect Life
‘Jesus. Give it a rest, Mum,’ I said. ‘He said she’s not his girlfriend. I don’t see you asking to meet whoever I’m shagging.’
‘And with good reason, Alice,’ said Mum. ‘Plus it’s quite obvious to all you’re having an extended dry patch on that front.’
‘Ironic, given London’s great waters,’ remarked Matthew.
‘Yes, well, I’ll be swimming in sex later, Matthew,’ I said sarcastically. ‘Dripping wet.’
God. Why did I say that?
‘I just can’t understand why you’re single, Alice,’ said Matthew, his eyes glinting.
‘Fuck off! You’re single too.’
‘Bit different though, isn’t it,’ said Arrie. ‘When he’s shagging a Swedish model.’
‘Is Ebba into this furry sex business like Alice?’ said Dad conversationally.
There we go – no wonder I’m unattached when I’ve grown up with parents like these.
‘No, Ken,’ said Matthew. ‘Funnily enough, she’s not.’
‘Are we eating soon?’ interrupted Roger. ‘Only it’s nearly eight and we’ve been up since the crack of dawn with the boys, and… ’
‘Yes, sorry,’ said Astrid, checking in the oven. ‘As soon as Aziz comes back down… ’
‘He said he wouldn’t be long.’ Matthew glanced at his watch. ‘Do you want me to go and fetch him?’
‘No,’ said Astrid. ‘Thanks.’
‘He’s probably still upset,’ said Arrie. ‘With Astrid… ’
Mum shook her head. ‘What do you think of Astrid throwing it all away, Matthew? Surely she can’treallybe serious about becoming a doctor?’
‘Hmm,’ said Matthew. ‘Astrid, what kind of salary drop would you take if you retrained?’
‘About eighty per cent.’
‘Could you still cover the mortgage? Bills?’
‘No. We’d have to downsize. Lose the holidays. But I’d barely be home anyway with the course and the hours in hospital.’
‘Okay,’ said Matthew. ‘Well, if she’s considered moving and is willing to sacrifice her house and life, then it sounds like she’s pretty serious about it.’
By the time supper was done, I was done too. And quite pissed, as was everyone else. It was usual Astrid-style food (lean) and Astrid-sized portions (stingy): i.e., completely inadequate in terms of soaking up the alcohol. So, at half nine, having bid everyone goodbye (not that Arrie and Roger answered because they were too busy having a drunken, loud row about whose responsibility it was to have ordered an Uber in advance given that it was New Year’s Eve and there was now limited availability and surge pricing), I’d weaved my way to the dimly lit front hallway and was struggling to get into my boots. I was also wondering if I was going to puke on the off-puttingly long tube journey from here to Stratford. I took a risk and bent forward properly to lever my heel into place, and it took an age, so when I stood up, my head reeled and my vision went blurry, and I felt myself stumbling. Right into a wall of warm solid muscle.
‘Shit.’ I put my hands against his chest in an attempt to get myself stable. ‘What are you doing here? And why is your chest so hard?’
‘Catching you, it seems,’ said Matthew, as I swayed again. ‘How pissed are you?’ He frowned down at me.
‘Not that pissed.’ I waited for my balance to steady. His eyes were so dark in this light I couldn’t tell what was iris and what was pupil.
‘Alice?’
‘I was just bending down. And everything went black at the edges. I feel a bit sick.’
‘Well, that bodes well for all your seedy sexual activities later,’ said Matthew drily.
‘What have you done to your chest? I remember when you used to be all skinny. Have you had implants?’
