get all teary over Call the bloody Midwife when all I wanna do is sit in me own chair, in me own house, drinking me own ale.’
Snowy slams his hand down again.
‘Have you finished, Michael?’
‘He’s never finished,’ Griffo laughs.
‘Fuck off, Griffo.’
Then, my three mates turn their entire focus onto me. I’ve got two choices here. One; tell them to shut up and mind their own sorry business. Or two; tell them the truth.
‘Zara is …’ I begin. This is awkward. I should just change the subject. ‘Lovely.’
‘Ahhhh,’ they all sigh, to my surprise.
‘Fit?’ Mikey adds.
‘Mikey. Shut up,’ Griffo and Snowy both say.
I swig my pint. ‘She’s about this tall, or should I say, short? Fits under me arm, like. Never stops gabbing, in this not quite American, but definitely not English accent.’
‘Sound.’
‘Boss.’
‘Boss.’
‘She’s seen the whole world. Well, not the whole world, but you know what I mean. She’s one of them expats. Travelled, moved around, got a shit load of stamps in her passport.’
‘Come on, mate,’ Mikey sulks. ‘More juice.’
This feels so pointless, such a waste of my – and their – time. And yet my best friends look like puppy dogs, eager for a bone. The last thing I want to do is piss on their chips.
‘She’s got a nice tan,’ I say, trying to jazz up my description. Christ, for someone who prides themselves on reading a lot, it seems I’ve dumped any eloquent vocabulary I know in a nearby wheelie bin. ‘And sort of dark hair with loads of them highlights, and she winds it up into a little knot on her head when she’s in the middle of talking, then pulls it out again. I wonder how her arms don’t get tired.’
‘Long hair? Sweet.’
‘Boss.’
‘Sound.’
‘And you know what? She’s kind. Like, she tries so hard to be nice and be good that it seems to backfire, like she’s just a bit too soft for this world. But, I don’t mean soft … ’cause she’s strong, stronger than she thinks. She’s brave. Yeah. That’s it. She’s brave.’
‘In what way?’ Snowy asks.
‘She just – I dunno – jumps. Goes for stuff. Almost without thinking.’ I laugh inwardly, enjoying how much I know about Zara Khoury. ‘She follows her heart, which is big, fellas. It’s one big old heart and she follows it. Hasn’t brought her much luck, though.’
Mikey groans. ‘Look, lad, this is all getting a bit, like, fucking mushy. Get to the good stuff.’
‘Michael,’ Snowy says. ‘You are a pervert. End of.’
Griffo leans in, lowers his voice. ‘Jimbo, this is the closest you’ve got to a girl in years.’
‘Eh, I’m not a prude, lad,’ I say, in my defence.
‘One night stands don’t count,’ Snowy says. ‘So, come ’ead. Dish!’
I shrug. They want more, but I don’t have more to give.
‘That’s it,’ I admit. ‘Sorry, lads.’
‘That’s it?’ Mikey asks, almost crying in pain.
‘Well, she lives in Dubai. I’m not likely to ever see her again, am I?’
‘Why not?’ Griffo asks, but I shoot him a filthy look. Money is no object to Phil bloody Griffin. Mikey takes out his phone and starts messing about on Facebook. ‘Does she like you?’
‘Dunno,’ I say. The Zara I’d gotten to know seems to like everyone. ‘At first, her positivity made me think she was nuts. But, as the day went on, I found it admirable, you know, a better way to get on with the daily grind of life, that’s for sure. You should’ve seen the way she enjoyed every bite of this tuna butty in the minibus, and her sheer joy in forcing me to sing—’
‘Ah, mate, I miss you singing,’ Griffo butts in.
‘Shh,’ Snowy says, gesturing me to continue.
‘We talked a lot,’ I say. ‘Well, I’ll be honest, she talked a lot. It actually made me sad to hear her sadness, like it should be against the law for someone who tries so bloody hard to be happy. She was fucked in so many ways, and yet she kept smiling, unlike yours truly.’ The lads nod, groaning in solidarity. ‘So yeah, I’m confident she liked me. You happy now? You mad sods. You’ve bled me dry and that’s it.’
Except that’s not it. Zara also thinks I’m a great many things that I’m absolutely not. How could I have told her I wasn’t successful? That failure’s all I know, laced with lost drive. How? If I were to ever see her again (which is absurd), I’d have to tell her the ugly truth. And it’s so very ugly.
‘That’s it?’ Mikey checks.
‘Yep,’