Page 33 of The Price of Love
‘Well,yes, obviously. He’s put the deposit down on the flat and he’ll be contributing to the wedding. The house of Cal’s, that’s private, that’s mine.’
‘I thought you already gave him some more money for the deposit on the flat.’ Jazz was still turning the key over and over. ‘And for his business.’
‘Yes, I did. It was only another sixteen thousand, we had to get the deposit down before someone else did. But, come on, what is this? Luke and I will sort it all out between us. At the moment I’m the one with the big cash income and he’s still setting up the business, but in the future’ — like when I’ve stopped work to have babies and to wander through orchards in flowery dresses — ‘thenhe’llbe the one with the money. Things work out, Jazz, in relationships. Not that you’d know, of course.’
There was a communal in-suck of breath. ‘Bit near the mark there, Wills,’ Katie said.
‘How come my love life is fair game for the two of you and yet I’m not even allowed to mention Jazz’s total lack of success with anything female. Hell, even the cat left him after a week.’ I rounded on Jazz, jumping to my feet and catching my knees on the underside of the table so that drinks slopped about all over the surface.
‘We worry about you. Jazz is quite capable of looking after himself.’
‘And by implication I’m not?’
‘The difference between us is that I know what I want.’ Jazz mopped at his spilt beer with the sleeve of his jacket.
‘Oh, great. So now I’m incapable of looking after myselfandindecisive?’ I gathered my things together. ‘Thanks very much, guys.’
Katie caught my arm. ‘Will, sit down. We’re not having a go at you, we’re just telling as we see it. From our perspective things seem to have moved incredibly quickly and, yeah, it’s a fantasticcoincidence that you met Luke again, and it’s wonderful that you’ve come into this money and everything, but we want you to be sure that you’re doing the right thing.’
‘Bullshit. You think he’s after my money. Look, how many times do I have to point out that Luke didn’t know Ihadany money when we met. Hell,Ididn’t know I had any money. Luke isn’t like that anyway. He’s sweet and he loves me and we’re going to get married and we’ve set a date and I was going to tell you, but now I’m not even sure that I’m going to invite either of you because you’re horrible to me and I’m going.’ The three of us eyeballed each other for a moment, or at least Katie and I eyeballed. Jazz raised his eyes ceilingward and mouthed ‘bloody women’, then we all burst out laughing.
‘You can’t not invite me,’ Katie said. ‘I have to be the one in the pictures who makes you look all thin and gorgeous.’
‘What, you mean like I was at your wedding?’
‘Yep. I have to wear something so bright that it strobes, and have a fat face with a horrid headpiece which makes me look like a hamster in a wig. ’S obligatory.’
Jazz grinned. ‘And I have to look sensationally shaggable so your new husband gets all jealous and punches me.’
‘Gosh.’
‘Yeah. He has to break my nose or it’s not a proper wedding, apparently.’
‘Ooh, ooh!’ Katie bounced and squeaked. ‘And I have to be caught in a compromising position with the best man. So if you could steer Luke to pick someone who’s good-looking, or at least doesn’t smell, I’ll be grateful.’
‘Ididn’t get caught in a compromising position at your wedding.’
‘No, but you did get my grandma stuck in the toilet. That counts.’
‘Oh, yes.’ I collected my bag and jacket. ‘I’m glad we got that sorted out. Now I really am off home. Luke and I are going to Cornwall this weekend and I want to pack.’
It was a tiny fib, not even that, more a fibbette. Ididwant to get home and pack, but first I wanted to go and investigate the new flat. The key shone virgin in the evening sunshine as I fitted it into the lock and pushed the door open. Inside, the late light sliced in over the balcony and fell justsoon the spot where I planned to put the intended Italian leather sofa. Mocha, a nice practical colour I could liven up with throws. I wandered around the rooms, much as an artist might walk around a blank canvas — potentially, an iron-framed bedstead justhereand some light gauzy curtains overthesewindows. Then I went out to stand on the balcony to watch the last of the natural light drain from the sky. Luke was right. It was a fantastically central, wonderfully appointed, fabulous investment. It just didn’t feel as though it would ever be myhome.
* * *
As I walked back across the river, I felt a familiar sense of potential hanging over my head. This usually meant the return of my twin — I’ve explained to you already, haven’t I, that Ash and I have the twin-unspoken-communication thing, although neither of us wants it — and, sure enough, there was the red Yamaha slouched in the front garden as though it had never been away. Proving, however, that away had very much been the case, was the rucksack left pointedly by the washing machine. One undone strap gave us a view of grey Lycra, like an overweight and grubby stripper flashing her underwear. Farther into the house, Ash was sitting on the kitchen table with his feet on a chair, holding forth to Flint on the beauty of Slovakian architecture, smoking a joint and spinning a beer bottle top in a saucer.
‘How long have you been back?’
‘Nice to see you, too.’
‘Sorry. Hello, brother dear. How was your trip and how fucking long have you been back?’
‘That’s better. Just since this morning. Flint tells me you’re going away? With aman? God, I can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I? Who is he, then? Anyone I know?’ He looked at me through a cloud of blue smoke, eyes narrowed, doing Lauren Bacall for all he was worth.
‘No. His name’s Luke.’ This was as much information as Flint had and I didn’t feel up to giving them any more. ‘Why did you tell me Cal was gay?’
‘And who the hell’s he?’ Flint asked.
