Page 31 of Wish You Weren't Here
‘Oh, wow,’ I blurt as I stare at the two glasses, one filled with a bright blue liquid and one that is green. There is something fancy going on with the glasses – I think they must have an LED in the bottom, that makes the drinks glow.
‘What flavour are they?’ I ask Joseph.
‘Blue and green,’ he tells me vaguely. ‘Enjoy.’
It is the blue one that has been placed down in front of me so I take a sip. Oh, boy, that is sweet and sour and it tastes of absolutely nothing specific, as though the flavour truly is just blue.
Joseph pulls a face at his green drink.
‘Actually, no, this isn’t what I want,’ he says. ‘Can we swap?’
‘Can we swap drinks?’ I reply, like I may have misheard him.
He nods, holding out his hand.
‘Erm… sure,’ I say, because I don’t really know what else to say.
I slide my drink his way and he pushes his back to me.
He takes a sip and pulls a face.
‘I know – why don’t we see if the table next to us wants to swap drinks,’ he suggests, his eyes wide.
‘Wait, what?’ I reply.
I’m not sure I can go with the flow for much longer because, seriously, something is up.
‘Actually, why don’t we order every drink on the menu,’ he continues. ‘We could keep sending them back. I saw this prank video, on YouTube…’
Joseph throws his arms out wildly and accidentally hits a woman walking past us.
‘Oh, my goodness, miss, I’m terribly sorry,’ he tells her. ‘My sincerest apologies.’
‘That’s okay,’ she tells him.
‘Anyway, as I was saying, there’s this guy on YouTube, who does pranks…’
As he continues, something occurs to me. Oh my God – he’s faking it. Joseph isn’t a bad boy at all. He’s doing this for the free holiday!
Oh, suddenly it all makes sense. The odd behaviour, the ugly shirt – telling people it’s my eightieth birthday.
I narrow my eyes at him.
‘Is this all an act?’ I ask him.
‘What do you mean?’ he says, clearly feigning innocence.
‘Are you faking?’ I reply. ‘Are you pretending to be undateable?’
‘No,’ he insists. ‘Of course not!’
‘Oh, you are such a terrible liar,’ I reply – it’s hard not to find this amusing.
Joseph exhales heavily.
‘Okay, yeah, fine, I am… exaggerating, shall we say, just a little – but there’s a free holiday on the line,’ he reminds me – as though I could forget.
‘I appreciate the effort,’ I reply. ‘I’m guessing you went out and bought that ugly shirt for the occasion?’
