Page 29 of Be With Us: An Urban Foursome Love Story

The restaurant was a fifteen minute walk from the escape room, but it felt like further after what they had all been through. Emilia was edgier than usual and was clinging to Cassian’s arm as they walked up to the entrance of Picollito’s, a small Italian pizzeria that Mark had chosen and booked for them.

A pretty young waitress greeted them at the door and led them to a circular table overlooking the plaza outside. Cassian pulled out two chairs for the two girls and then he and Mark settled down next to them.

‘Mark, I have no idea how you managed to not drop-kick that little-shit puppet, Annie out of the fucking shop? I mean what kind of bodyguard are you if you can’t keep me safe from a possessed porcelain doll?’

The waitress raised her eyebrows in confusion and left the table swiftly, leaving them with one less menu than intended, resulting in Amy and Emilia having to share.

‘So where do you guys live?’ said Amy as she perused the menu.

‘South of the city, on the new estate.’

‘The one near the motorway?’

‘That’s the one,’ said Emilia, smiling.

‘You’re a physiotherapist and he’s in marketing? You guys must be raking it in.’

‘We’re saving,’ said Cassian.

‘For kids?’

Emilia nodded. ’So how did you get started making shit art?’

Amy laughed hard, throwing her head back. Emilia watched as her long red hair fell gracefully around her neck.

‘You’re such a bitch,’ she said. ‘Honestly? It was an accident. I was working at a gallery in Switzerland, eight years ago. There was an exhibition on about mundanity, all that rubbish about focusing on the mundane objects that surround us and elevating them to be observed thereby creating some sort of paradox. Well I was told to go mop the gallery floor one night by our manager. As they were closing up, one of the last tourists had shit their pants. I don’t know the full story, but next thing I knew, I was given a mop and bucket and told to go clean up. As I was walking through this gallery of shit art, I decided right then and there, that I was done. I kicked the bucket of water onto the poo, threw the mop on top, went and found a marker pen and wrote “The Life of Amy Hamilton” on the floor and threw the pen aside. The next day it was in the newspaper. One of the local press critics had a late night viewing and the curator just assumed I’d cleaned up the turd, but the critic loved it. So to answer your question, I got started making shit art, by making shit art.’

‘That is amazing,’ said Emilia. ‘If you ever write a biography, that should be your opening paragraph.’

Amy raised her middle finger at Emilia as they laughed.

’So now you know my dark past, and that I’m literally full of shit,’ said Amy. ‘Tell me about you guys. Every time I’ve asked, you’ve managed to avoid the question, I’m starting to wonder if you’re fugitives, or spies or in witness protection or something.’

‘You’re right, we should tell them the truth, Emilia,’ said Cassian, feigning suspicion and looking around nervously.

‘No, you promised me you wouldn’t,’ laughed his wife, pretending to admonish him. ‘We can’t tell them, their lives would be in danger.’

‘Not with me around,’ said Mark, calmly. Cassian had noticed that he had positioned himself facing the door and his chair was angled slightly toward the fire exit. He had also shifted the table a few inches when they sat down. He had wondered if this was conscious or just such an ingrained part of Mark’s life that he did it everywhere he went.

‘You have no excuse now,’ said Amy, drumming the table with her fingers. ‘Spill, what’s the dark secret?’

Emilia glanced over at Cassian who nodded.

‘It’s nothing exciting I’m afraid, we just met at school.’

‘How old are you guys?’ said Amy.

Mark frowned and coughed. ‘As I’m sure you’re aware by now, Amy doesn’t know how to ask polite questions.’

‘So you’ve been together since you were teenagers?’ said Amy.

Emilia nodded, a little nervously. She hadn’t really wanted this to come up.

‘That’s so lovely,’ said Amy.

Cassian squeezed Emilia’s hand across the table.

‘So have you ever been with anyone else?’ said Amy.

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