‘Nope, co-sharing. My buddies and me got a place. I’m moving out in a week though. Enlisted. Yes, ma’am.’
‘Hooyah,’ Ria says, offering a smile that Derek returns slowly. ‘I mean, that’s great! Wow, I’m, like, so impressed and, like . . . totally impressed. So you ran track?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Hundred metres, relay . . . I can bench, like, two hundred and twenty pounds too.’
‘Wow,’ Ria says again. ‘Er, this is my van. We can just pop it in the side bit . . .’ She unlocks the sliding door and pulls it back along the runners.
‘Damn,’ Derek says, ‘you got curtains?’
‘Just to keep the light from the back when my aunt is sleeping. So wow, two hundred and twenty pounds is so much. You must be so strong.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Derek says, hefting the white, shabby-chic low chest into the van.
‘Wish I was fit and healthy,’ Ria says, watching his arms bulge as he pushes it in.
‘Y’all look fine to me,’ Derek says, going slow to give her the gun show.
‘Ah,’ Ria says, looking down at her chest. ‘If you like big boobs.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Derek says, now looking at Ria’s boobs instead of the black curtain that pulled back a bit to reveal a glowing blue light. Ria leans in, brushing her breasts over his arm and plucks the curtain back.
‘So,’ she says as he swallows. ‘Where’s this bar?’
Thirty
‘Brilliant,’ Harry booms as the movie ends. His white teeth flashing through his black beard in the darkened room. ‘Aye,’ he adds. ‘Brilliant.’
‘You liked it then?’ Emily asks.
‘Ach, brilliant,’ he says.
‘Was great,’ Ben says. ‘Even Safa sat still for more than an hour.’
‘Blah, blah,’ Safa says, groaning as she stretches out on the big sofa. ‘Keep rubbing my feet.’
‘I’ve been rubbing them.’
‘Well, keep going then,’ Safa laughs, trying to sound aggressive and nice at the same time.
‘You ticklish?’
‘Try it and die, Ryder.’
‘You don’t scare me, Patel.’
‘Try it then.’
‘Er . . . nah,’ he says as she chuckles.
Emily looks over at them and thinks they should just get a room and get over it. The amount they touch each other is ridiculous. Her feet on his lap. His hands rubbing her feet. Shoulder-brushing, hip-bumping, pushing and shoving each other all the time, and Safa literally walking past him in her underwear every chance she gets. He puts his hands on her hips now to move her out the way too, and she either grins like an idiot or play-fights him. It’s increasing too. Safa was pretty much pissing around Ben when Emily first arrived, and that reaction seems to have opened a door for her. Like a teenager starting to accept there are emotions other than anger and happiness. It’s almost like Safa is testing him and constantly pushing the boundaries, while he remains entirely passive and casual about it.
‘Where’s Bertie?’ Harry asks, looking round the room.
‘Went back to the island,’ Emily says. ‘He told you he was going. He said Dumbledore gave him an idea and rushed off.’
‘Did he?’ Harry asks. ‘Brew?’
‘Aye,’ Emily says deeply. ‘Want me to make it, old man?’
‘Old,’ Harry tuts, rising to his feet.
‘You are an old man,’ Emily says, watching him walk over to the big table. ‘You’re almost a hundred and thirty years older than me.’
‘Three years,’ Harry says.
‘Where you going, beardy?’ Safa asks as Harry changes direction and walks towards the door.
‘Ask ma’am if she wants a brew.’
‘Arse-licker.’
‘Aye,’ Harry says, pushing the door open and flicking the light on at the same time to a chorus of groans at the others getting blinded. He chuckles and calls through, ‘Brew, ma’am?’
‘Yes. Movie finished?’
‘Aye, has,’ Harry calls back.
Miri checks her watch. The movie is just over two and a half hours long, and given the comfort break taken for Harry to have a smoke it means Ria is due back now. She folds the newspaper she was reading and moves from her desk to place it on top of the end stack. She’s working year by year. Reading paper editions from English-speaking countries to gain an insight into the world as it moved on after her period. Emily said she can download and access them all on a single tablet, but she likes the act of reading newspapers and she knows the others keep taking them out to read too. Apart from Safa, who just moans when everyone is reading.
She walks from her office into the corridor and stares into the portal room, then checks her watch again. She’ll wait another ten minutes. She moves up to the door and into the main room to see Safa stretched out on a sofa with her feet being rubbed by Ben, and thinks the two should just get a room and get over it.
‘Movie good?’ she asks Harry.
‘Aye.’
‘Good.’
‘Seen it?’
‘No.’
‘Should.’
‘Will.’
‘You two have the shortest conversations ever.’
‘Thank you for your observations, Miss Patel.’
‘You got Miss Pateled,’ Ben says.
‘Thank you, Mr Ryder.’
‘Haha! Rub, you bellend, don’t fucking tickle.’
‘Rub your bellend? Something you want to tell me, Safa?’
‘Twat.’
‘Sorry, that was childish,’ Ben says to the room at large.
‘S’fine,’ Emily chuckles, taking advantage of Harry being off the sofa to stretch out. ‘Was funny.’
‘Miri? You okay?’ Ben asks. ‘You’ve checked your watch twice since you’ve come in.’
‘Ria is late.’
‘By how long?’ Emily asks.
‘Two minutes.’
‘I’m sure she is fine,’ Emily says.
‘You worried?’ Ben asks.
‘Not worried. Concerned.’
‘Same thing,’ Safa says.
‘It is not the same thing, Miss Patel.’
‘She’ll be fine – she’s twenty-two,’ Ben says.
‘Young twenty-two though,’ Safa says.
‘Only by your standards,’ Ben says.
‘Meaning?’ Emily asks, lifting her head to look at Ben.
‘Both of you were doing serious stuff at that age. Ria hasn’t, but that doesn’t mean she is less than . . .’
‘Safa never said that,’ Emily says.
‘Yeah, I know, but . . . What I mean is, Ria is young by your standards of not being professionally trained and disciplined, but by normal standards she’s probably fine. You two are the rare ones. Ria is normal for that age . . . or at least what people that age were like in my time.’
‘Makes sense actually,’ Emily says thoughtfully.
‘The egghead has spoken,’ Safa says. ‘Where were you at that age, Emily?’
‘Israel.’
‘What about you?’ Ben asks, looking to Safa.
‘Dunno, rub my feet.’
‘I am.’
‘Awesome. I joined the police because of you, then joined the Diplomatic Protection Team because of you, and now I’m on a sofa having my feet rubbed by you. Fucked up, but it is what it is. Rub my feet.’
The brutal, raw honesty brings a sudden silence to the room that even Safa detects. She lifts her head, looking round at them.
‘Would you rub my feet?’ Ben asks.
‘Will I fuck! That’s disgusting. I’d literally puke on you.’
‘Other people in the room,’ Emily says, holding her hand up.
‘Twats,’ Safa laughs. ‘Cheers, beardy,’ she adds, sitting up swiftly to take the mug held out by Harry.