I knew the night was going to turn into a nightmare when thirty seconds after we’d walked into Hel & Ru’s flat James pointed at a Formula One framed print on the sideboard and said, ‘Only twats are into Formula One. Only a dull mind could watch a car go round and round a track ad infinitum.’
‘I think you’ll find,’ Rupert said, turning back, ‘that the number of laps depends on the track and that the sport demands a finite number of laps otherwise there’d be no winner.’
‘A blah blah blah blah blah.’ James waved a hand in his direction then, just as Rupert disappeared into the living room. ‘Posh twat.’
I angled him into the bathroom and closed the door. He stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the (lid closed, thankfully) toilet. ‘If you keep this up we’re leaving.’
He grinned. ‘So we don’t have to have dinner with Twattle Dum and Twattle Dumber and two other Mad Twatters? Excellent.’ He tried to stand. ‘Let’s go!’
‘Not me.’ I pushed him back down again. ‘You.’
‘No Suzy,’ he pulled a face, ‘please let me spend the evening with Fat Arse and Dull Face.’
‘That’s it.’ I yanked on his hand so he was upright. ‘You’re going home. I’m calling you a cab.’
‘Noooo!’ He wrapped his arms around me and, using his weight advantage, pinned me against the tiled wall. He pressed his lips to my neck. ‘Don’t leave me. Don’t make me go. I promise to be a good boy. Suzy, I want to wake up with you tomorrow morning. Don’t send me home to my bitch of a mother. I’m only being silly because it winds you up. I know how much you love Gingerpubes and her Fat Bear.’
‘James!’
‘See!’ He mimed someone pushing a button. ‘It’s too easy. Please, Suzy. I promise to be good. I’ll make polite conversation over dinner and everything. I just need something to eat. I’ve only had a bowl of cereal all day.’
‘James! That’s not good for you.’
‘See,’ he nestled his head into the crook of my neck, ‘I knew you still loved me. You care that I’m starving to death.’
‘Of course I love you, you idiot.’ I stroked the back of his head, relishing the feeling of his hair under my fingers. ‘Even when you do behave like this.’
True to his word he did behave, even if his contribution to the conversation around the dinner table was more sarcastic than enthusiastic, but he barely said a word on the tube on the way home. I was grateful for the silence. James didn’t have to spell it out but I could tell from his behaviour over dinner that he didn’t like my friends, and not just because I’d slept with one of them.
By the time we finally walked into James’ living room I couldn’t bear the silence a second longer and asked if he was okay.
He ignored me and crossed the room to pull the heavy velvet curtains closed, taking the time to arrange the folds of material so they hung evenly spaced. When he was satisfied they were straight he strode over to the mantelpiece and wound the brass carriage clock. His face was expressionless, his mouth a thin line, his pale grey eyes dull. Only the tension in his jaw gave his mood away. I stayed by the door, shuffling my weight from foot to foot. The air was electrified, like a dark cloud was hovering overhead, threatening a storm.
‘James?’ I said again.
‘Would you keep your fucking voice down?’ He spun around to face me. ‘Mother’s asleep upstairs or have you forgotten?’
‘Sorry.’ I lowered my voice to a whisper. ‘I just wanted to check that you’re okay. You’ve seemed a bit …’ I chose my words carefully, ‘… unhappy ever since we left Hels’ house.’
‘Unhappy?’ James stepped closer, towering over me. ‘Why would I be unhappy, Suzy-Sue?’
I wracked my brain, analyzing the conversations we’d had over dinner. Nothing controversial, nothing that referenced my ex-boyfriends (Hels knows not to mention them in front of James) and nothing about my past that he might have found objectionable.
‘Nothing?’ James took another step closer and tapped me on the forehead with his index finger. ‘Really? You can’t think of a single thing you might have done to upset me?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I can’t. I thought we had a lovely even—’
‘Liar!’ His face was inches from mine, his breath hot and scented with the spices Hels used in the curry we ate.
‘I’m not—’
‘You are a lying bitch.’
‘I’m not, James. I didn’t say—’
‘Want a cig, Suz?’ He said it in a high sing-song voice and I immediately knew what he was getting at. He was imitating Helen, post-dinner, as she leaned across the table and offered me a Marlboro Light before sparking one up herself. My face suddenly felt hot as the blood rushed to my cheeks.
‘Hels!’ James continued in the same voice, his face bobbing from side to side in front of mine. ‘You know I don’t smoke anymore. I gave up weeks ago. Remember?’
‘She just forgot, James. We used to share cigs all the time at work and it’s a habit. She forgot that I gave—’
‘FILTHY FUCKING HABIT!’
I took a step back and wiped the spit from my eye.
‘My father died from smoking, Suzy. He DIED. A long, painful death. I held him in my arms when he rasped and rattled his way into the next world, gasping for breath that wouldn’t come.’
‘But your mum said that—’
James crouched down so his face was just millimetres from mine. ‘What did my “mum” say?’
‘She said …’ I rubbed my palms against my skirt, ‘… that your dad killed himself. You were in the kitchen, talking, and I heard her say that. I wasn’t snooping, I promise. But you’d been gone so long that I just wanted to check that—’
‘Bullshit!’ His breath is hot in my face. ‘You were sneaking around, listening at keyholes, looking for secrets.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘Isn’t it?’