in the pub corridor last night in my sleeping life … I’ve been trying not to think about it until now. After all, it doesn’t apply here. Well, not really. Does it? He didn’t say anything explicit or cross any boundaries, but he walked pretty damn close to the line; close enough for me to hear his unspoken words. I sigh and close my eyes, leaning my head back against the sofa cushions. Why does everything have to be so bloody complicated? Perhaps I misinterpreted what Jonah said. It’s possible. But in my heart, no, I’m not wrong. There was tension in the air between us, something in his dark gaze that asked questions I didn’t have easy answers to. Here in my waking world he would never have spoken so boldly, and now it’s going to make things decidedly awkward in my sleeping life.
Maybe he’ll suddenly need to be somewhere else on our big day. After what he said last night, it’d be easier if he wasn’t there, for me at least. But not for Freddie, who deserves to have his best friend beside him on his wedding day. I can’t see any way around it but to try to do as Jonah suggested – forget he said it at all.
I’m more asleep than awake when my phone buzzes a little after five. I made it as far as the shower a while ago and now I’m back on the sofa in my PJs, clean at least, pretending to watch some movie so awful I haven’t even registered the main character’s name. I dig my mobile out from amongst the cushions under my head, and my screen informs me I have one new message – it’s Kris. We’ve texted a bit recently, but I haven’t seen him since our first date. Even though I’ve wanted to, it hasn’t felt right.
Fancy a coffee? Could really use a friend if you’re around. K x
My thumbs move to tell a white lie so as not to offend him.
I’m at my mum’s, a family party thing, will give you a bell tomor
I pause and delete. Kris is the one person who plays no dual role in my complicated double life and he sounds as if he’s having a rough day. Surely I can find it in myself to offer something kinder than a brush-off?
Hey you. Everything okay? I’m mega hung-over at home. You sound low, call me if you want. L x
He replies straight away.
Would it be totally weird if I come to see you for an hour? Could really do with getting out of the house.
Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. I’ve already played my hand by saying I’m around to chat, so I hesitate, and before I can compose my thoughts another text pings in.
Sorry. Ignore that. Crapshoot of a day, you know how it goes sometimes.
And because I do know exactly how it goes sometimes, I tell him no, it’s not weird, and yes, he can come over. And then I panic like hell and throw some actual daytime clothes on.
We sit at my kitchen table and drink coffee, and he tells me that his wife appeared out of the blue this morning. She let herself in with the key she hadn’t bothered returning, stayed just long enough to fill an Ikea blue bag with things she wanted, then as she was leaving she told him she’s three months pregnant with twins.
‘God, I don’t know what to say.’ I’m horrified for him. He looks like a kicked dog. ‘Shall I call her some terrible names?’
‘Already did that, right after she left,’ he says. ‘Didn’t help very much. And she took the kettle.’ He drains his coffee. ‘Who does that, Lydia? Takes the kettle?’
I shake my head. ‘Was it a special kettle?’
He shrugs. ‘It matched the toaster.’
‘Did she take the toaster as well?’
He nods ruefully. ‘No tea, no toast.’
I hold his gaze, glad to see the beginnings of amusement there.
‘You can probably get a new set for twenty quid from the supermarket,’ I say.
‘I don’t even like bloody toast,’ he says. ‘And I don’t drink tea, either.’
I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it because what a ridiculous thing to do, really, turn up and take the kitchen appliances.
‘I’ve been offered a new job,’ he says, changing the subject. ‘Or a partnership, actually.’
‘That’s good,’ I say. ‘Isn’t it? It sounds good.’
He nods, but his face is conflicted. ‘It’s in London.’
Ah. ‘Will you take it, do you think?’ I say tentatively.
‘Probably,’