Page 66 of Statistically Speaking
“Maybe.”
“Can I come in?” He is silent for a moment, the roar of “Best of You” sweeping out toward us, and for a split second I think he will say no. That he will turn me away. That I won’t even get the chance to say what I have come here to say.
“All right,” he replies eventually, moving to one side and ushering me in. He goes over to his phone and speakers, turns the music down. My ears feel relieved, even if nothing else does.
Karim’s flat is bigger than mine and, apart from the location, frankly, nicer. It is untidy in a controlled way, filled with sports gear and books and electronics. It is very manlike, apart from the shelf that is covered in framed school pictures of his niece and nephews, all smiling out at us with gapped teeth and smart uniforms. I gaze at the walls we have been painting and see that he has made some progress—if he meant to cover half the floor, that is. He kicks the plastic sheeting he’s haphazardly laid down with one foot, actually manages a wry smile as he sees me looking.
“Yeah, well—I was sick of that carpet anyway... I’ll clear all of that up later. Do you want a drink?”
I don’t, but I think we both need something to do to deflate the wall of tension that I can feel between us. I hate it, this new sense of distance. Or maybe I’m just being hypocritical—what I mean is that I hate when the distance is enforced from the other side. I spent long enough keeping him at arm’s length, for sure.
“Diet Coke?” I say hopefully. He nods and strides into his kitchen. He comes back with two, and we both pop them open. It is awkward, and nervy, and neither of us seems to know quite what to say. Which is excusable on his part, as I’m the one who turned up unannounced. Not so much for me.
“I spoke to the school in Norwich,” I say, deciding to plunge right in.
“Right,” he replies, leaving it at that. It seems that he has no intention of making this easy for me.
“And I told them I was no longer interested in the job and they should remove me from the list of candidates.” His eyes widen slightly, but still he doesn’t speak. I’m going to have to earn this Diet Coke. “I never intended to take it, Karim, honestly,” I explain. “It was just—well, a moment of madness, I suppose you might call it. The details came through on the day Katie turned eighteen, and—well, I was a mess. You know I was that day. The recruitment agency asked if I’d be interested, and it all seemed theoretical, and it was for a head-of-department job so maybe I even thought it’d be a good ego boost if they were interested in me...”
“And how did that work out for you? The ego boost?” he asks, the words sharp but his tone slightly more mellow.
“Not so well, to be honest. This guy I’ve been seeing got in a total strop and walked out on me, and then my neighbor told me I was being a wuss and I needed to fight for you.”
It is a gamble, trying for light when I can see he still feels dark, but his lips quirk upward in response, almost against his will.
“Well, maybe your neighbor had a point. And this guy, maybe he felt upset,” he answers. “Maybe he’d been thinking things weregoing well. Even imagining a future together. And maybe you’re not the only one with insecurities—maybe this guy, despite being a complete Adonis and having amazing skills in every department, felt... vulnerable. Perhaps he was hurt at the thought of you being willing to just give it all up and jog off to the other side of the country, without even discussing it with him first.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say, smiling. “And maybe I’m a complete dick. I’m sorry, Karim—not just for the job thing but for not being able to explain it properly to you this morning. I just felt all tangled up and tongue-tied and shocked. When you went and took your coat I was devastated.”
“My coat?”
“Yeah. The one that you leave at mine. It felt... so final.”
“Ah,” he says, shaking his head. “I see. You read too much into the coat, you know. I just needed time to think. And head of department... that would have been a good step for you. I think, if I’d known, if you’d told me, I’d have understood. I just felt like a fool, like I’d been investing way too much in all of this. Like it’s always me who’s pushing for more, you know? And it’s always you who’s rationing things out.”
I reach up, try to wipe paint off his cheek but end up just smearing blue across his skin.
“I hate that I’ve made you feel that way. And you haven’t been investing too much in all of this. You have been investing exactly the right amount—I’m just not sure you’re getting enough interest in return.”
“Can we stop with the financial analogies? You’ll end up doing your human abacus routine and adding up emotional savings rates in your mind if we carry on.”
He is, of course, not wrong. I nod.
“I’m not going to Norwich, Karim. I was never going to Norwich, then or now. I’m not going anywhere—and if ever I do plan to, I’ll talk to you about it first.”
He takes my Diet Coke from my hand and puts both our cans down on the coffee table. Suddenly he grabs hold of me, lifts me off my feet, and hoists me into the air. I let out a scream, and both of us tumble onto the sofa. He tugs me onto his lap, and we end up a laughing heap of limbs. I squirm about and settle, my head resting against his shoulder, his arms around me.
“I mean,” he says softly, “Norwich? It’s insulting!”
“No, it’s not. Norwich is a very interesting place. Boudica was almost from Norwich. It has a fine cathedral dating back to the late eleventh century, and—”
He shuts me up with a kiss, and when finally we pull apart, I am breathless for all the right reasons.
“Ha!” he says, pleased with himself. “I bet an eleventh-century cathedral can’t kiss like that!”
“You know that makes no sense, don’t you?”
“It makes sense to me, and that’s what matters. Look. I overreacted. I know I did. But I also know that this thing, this unexpected thing that’s happening with us... it’s happening fast. Even for me. So maybe I’m a bit unsteady too.”
