Page 71 of The Price of Love
‘Good,’ Katie said tightly.
‘Stop victim blaming, Jazz. It’s the way hedid it. Even if the women could afford it, even if they were fuckingmillionaires, no one deserves to be treated the way he treats women. Do you know, I don’t think he evenlikeswomen very much?’
‘Gift to Ash then.’ Jazz arched his eyebrows.
‘Ash has got more sense. Anyway, I didn’t mean he prefers men. I just think he sees women as glorified cashpoint machines.’
‘Holes in the wall.’ Jazz guffawed and then choked. His pint might have gone down the wrong way, or Katie mighthave grabbed him under the table. I couldn’t tell, but his face blanched and his voice was a little higher when he said, ‘Sorry.’
‘You do know’ — Katie laid a hand on my arm — ‘that it’s not your fault, don’t you?’
‘What, Jazz being a tactless prick? Yeah, I know. Twenty-three years I’ve been trying to civilise him, but he’s still convinced that being diplomatic is having a qualification in watch repair.’
‘Falling in love with Luke, you dipstick.’
‘Oh. Do you know, I’m not sure that I really did?’
‘But you were going to marry him.’ Both Katie and Jazz looked shocked.
‘Yeah, well, when I was twelve I was going to marry Simon Le Bon and look what happened there.’ I sighed, remembering my adolescent fixations for any man in eyeliner.
‘He had stupid hair,’ Katie said as she collected her things together and picked up her bag.
‘Yes, lucky escape for me.’
‘Anyway, guys, much as I’d love to sit around and discuss Will’s appalling taste in men, I must be off. The boys have gone to the park with Dan, so I’d better go home and tame the mess while they’re out.’ Katie got to her feet. ‘See you on Monday, Will. Later, Jazz.’
After she’d gone, Jazz and I stared into our respective drinks. ‘So, you’ll be up for singing on Sunday?’ Jazz said, continuing a conversation we’d started when I’d first arrived at the Grape and Sprout, as though the last ten minutes had never happened. ‘It’s kind of a one-off. A special. Just the band and us, down by the river, near the Millennium Bridge?’
‘Oh, right. Open-air thing? For passers-by?’ I didn’t mind that so much. Singing outdoors made everything a bit less intense and the weather at the moment was fabulous. ‘Yeah, why not. Count me in.’
‘Good.’
I sipped my wine and looked at him. Over the past few weeks, Jazz had changed enormously. Gone were the towering boots, the funereal clothing and the tatty goatee. Although his hair was still long, it had returned to its natural dirty blond colour. Jazz now wore smart casual clothes, jeans and T-shirts and trainers. From Goth to Gap in months. ‘You really like Bree, don’t you?’ I asked. It was the only reason I could think of for the radical self-redesign.
He nodded, almost miserably. ‘When Grace was born and I was there, it was . . .’ Horrifyingly, there were tears in his eyes. Jazz, who’d not even cried when he’d trodden on his signed Green Day album in stiletto-heeled boots. (It was a party and he’d not noticed, walked around with the CD spiked on his heel for three hours.)
I quickly looked around, in case I’d fallen into a parallel dimension. ‘I think she’s very fond of you, too. You’ve been terrific, helping out with the dogs and all that.’
‘Yeah. Mr Terrific, that’s me.’ It really wasn’t like Jazz to look glum. He looked as uneasy with the expression as Santa Claus would look with a machete. ‘Do you really think she likes me, Will? I mean,you know, like a proper bloke?’
Another crowd of people entered The Grape and the diverting noise prevented me from having to answer. There wasn’t much I could say, really. How should I know how Bree felt about Jazz? Her husband had only just dumped her and now she’d got a new baby. She did seem pretty smitten with him, and I’d babysat my niece on a couple of occasions when she and Jazz had gone out ‘to get her out of the house’, but I wasn’t privy to her inner thoughts about the boy she’d known almost as long as I had.
‘Jazz.’ I took his hand, charitably. ‘You are a fabulous man and any woman would be lucky to have you.’
Jazz looked me in the eyes, searching my face. ‘But maybe the one I want just doesn’t know she’s lucky yet,’ he said softly.
‘Oh,Jazz.’ My heart contorted a little and I squeezed his hand. ‘Honestly, everything will work out.’
Thwack.
My first thought was ‘gosh, exactly like in the comics’, as a fist shot out from behind my shoulder, catching Jazz a blow under his chin, in classic He-Man-punch style. My second thought, of course, was ‘what thehell?’ and I whipped around to find Luke standing there, with a gleam in his eye.
‘Was he trying to get you back?’
Would I be horribly shallow if I admitted to a moment’s quiet pride? No man hadeverpunched another guy for me. I was a fist-fight virgin! And now, here was Luke, defending my honour, or at least defending his woman from the predatory advances of her supposed ex-boyfriend.
‘No, we were talking.’
