friends to do the most amazing shadow acrobatics in the courtyard to say sorry.’
‘Sorry.’ I hear a rustling in the background. ‘I had to put down my packet of crisps. I thought you said he put on shadow acrobatics.’
‘Yep, he did.’
‘Oh my gosh, Soph, this guy is a keeper.’ She lowers her voice. ‘Even Zach has never done anything like that, though he can be pretty thoughtful. Although wait a minute.’ Jess snaps back to her usual whippet sharpness. ‘You said it was to say sorry. What did he have to apologise for?’
I sigh. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘I have plenty of time.’
‘Well it’s nothing really. He just forgot to tell me he’s still married.’
‘Oh.’ Her tone becomes serious. ‘That’s not good. Why didn’t he mention it before?’
‘He didn’t want to talk about it. Anyway, we’re only friends so why would it matter?’
‘Because friends don’t keep things from each other.’ Annoyingly, she has voiced the anxieties I had thought I had put to bed. ‘Hmm he sounds immature to me. You had enough problems with Ryan being unsure of what he wanted in life. Sounds like you’ve found another one.’
‘Maybe.’ I try not to feel disappointed at Jess’s words. ‘It doesn’t matter in any case, I’ve forgiven him as a friend and that’s all he is.’
‘But …’
‘Sorry, I’ve just arrived back at the flat. Speak to you later, bye, bye …’
And with that, I flick the red button. Ha, I’m quite proud of myself. For the first time ever, I have managed to stop Jess’s inquisition. Besides I don’t want to think about exactly how I feel about Jack right now; it’s easier not to.
Later that evening, I’m sitting on my balcony sipping a rose lemon spritzer mocktail. It’s one of Jack’s latest creations. ‘This is delicious. You have totally nailed it … this time,’ I tease.
‘Uh-huh,’ he agrees from above. ‘I have to say this is one of my better ones.’
‘Hope you’ve made a note of the recipe?’
‘Of course, it’s all in my little book.’
‘Not your little black book?’ I joke. Oops, where the heck did that come from? I’m not drinking alcohol so I don’t even have that as an excuse.
‘Nope, I don’t have one of those. It’s an old scrappy notebook that I’ve had for about a hundred years. It’s embarrassing-looking really.’
‘I’ll have to order you another one,’ I say making a mental note although I’ve already ordered a few too many things online lately. It’s far too easy to do, even if the delivery times are longer due to priority quite rightly being given to essentials, and there’s loads of things you still can’t get. Like disinfectant wipes – apparently they’ve been requisitioned or something.
‘So are we ready for the Balcony Ensemble?’ asks Greg.
‘Yes it is that time I think,’ Jack says. ‘Thanks for the interview help, Soph, I think it hopefully went quite well.’
I smile at his use of the abbreviation of my name. Only my close friends and family call me that. It sounds perfect and somewhere inside there’s a warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach, a feeling I thought I’d forgotten.
I lean out over the balcony as slowly the courtyard begins to show signs of life. Mavis arrives with her cavernous bag of stuff, the one she’s never seen without, from which she unpacks a mac and an unfolding chair. Bertie comes round the corner with his usual precise small steps and on the balconies opposite, usually deserted except for during the clap, faces start appearing.
‘Okay,’ calls Jack, after a pause whilst he waits for everyone to settle. It’s hard for everyone to hear as the courtyard is echoey and Bertie puts his hand to his ear.
‘Are you all ready?’ shouts Jack loudly.
Bertie and Mavis give the thumbs up and the couple with a young child in the flat opposite smile and wave.
‘Right, “I’m Still Standing”, we’ll have a run-through from the start and see how we go. Apologies in advance for the sound quality but this speaker is as good as we’ve got at the moment and it will be on high volume.’
I hear Jack moving about above.
‘Bear with me a second, there’s a problem with the wire.’
‘Just a minute, Jack?’ I call.
‘Yeah?’ he replies.
‘Mavis is trying to get your attention.’
She is, she’s waving her mac and what looks like a shoe in the air.
‘What is it, Mavis?’
‘Anyone lost a sandal?’ she asks, waving a blue shoe, which looks a bit worse for wear, in the air. It’s muddy and has a half-broken