Merry Measure - Lily Morton Page 0,3
shared my news.”
Oh my God, he’s engaged. I stare at him, aware that I must look like I’ve inhaled cat sick, but I can’t stop myself.
“You okay?” he asks, looking torn between patting me on the back or performing the Heimlich manoeuvre. He’s had to do both for me over the years.
“Fine, fine,” I say heartily. “Erm, what news?”
He grimaces. “Steven and I split up.”
“Really? That’s amazing.” I say this way too loudly, and the couple next to us immediately look up. I frown at them repressively while getting my jubilation under control. When I’m satisfied that I’ve done it, I pat his arm. “I’m so sorry. How awful for you both.”
“Really?” The incredulity is loud in his voice. “You couldn’t stand him.”
“That’s just not true. Where on earth did you get that idea from?” I ask heartily.
“Erm, you told me.”
“Really?” I wrack my brain. “When did I do that?”
“When you were drunk last Christmas.”
“Oh. Oh dear, I’m so sorry.”
He laughs. “Why? You were being honest. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
“Really?” I sound as breathy as Marilyn Monroe in her heyday. I really want to know what other things he likes about me, but I settle for asking, slightly uneasily, “And what else did I say? Because I have no memory of this conversation at all.”
“That’s because you finished your dad’s eggnog off.” We both shudder at the thought, because that stuff is heinous, and then he carries on talking. “You ranted about private school parents and how demonic small children are and then told me very seriously that Steven was a complete wanker, and I could do better.”
“Oh,” I say faintly. “Well, I wasn’t wrong. Although my delivery sounds less than ideal.”
He stares out of the window, and I watch him, rather than the planes. “You weren’t,” he says. “You actually made me think about what I was doing, Arlo.”
“Obviously, I didn’t make you think very hard. You lasted another year.”
He shrugs. “Only because Steven’s been out of the country on a job for six months.”
“What exactly is it that he does?” I ask sweetly. “Contract assassin?”
“Telecommunications.”
“Well, bless him, he’s never lacked the ability to get his thoughts across,” I say with a shudder.
“I should say thank you, Arlo.” He throws his arm over my shoulder. It’s warm and heavy, and being this close I can smell his woody Guerlain cologne. It always makes me want to sniff him.
I swallow hard. “I must say I’m a little concerned about that,” I say honestly. “What if in twenty years you’re still bemoaning your lost love and howling my name in anguish?”
He blinks. “Wasn’t that Miss Haversham? I don’t think I’m temperamentally suited to wearing the same clothes for twenty years.”
I laugh. “There is that. How did your parents take it?”
He grimaces. “As you’d expect.”
“I try not to have expectations of your parents,” I say earnestly. “Other than not to move too quickly near them, lest it activate their hunt and kill settings.”
He laughs, but it fades quickly, leaving him looking a bit sad. “They were very disappointed in me, actually.”
“Really?” I ask, startled. “I thought they viewed the male part of your bisexuality as something to be hidden in the attic with all the pesky dust collectors like books and art.”
He smiles. “Ah well, they liked Steven. He appealed to them because he was so focused and goal-driven.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I say sourly. “As soon as they met, I bet they all got their calculators out and worked out their capital allowances for the year.”
Steven was far too driven for Jack. In my opinion, Jack needs someone a lot more relaxed. Someone who will make him feel comfortable rather than trying to wind him up even tighter the way Steven did. I steer my mind away from the thought that I’d be good for him, but it’s a damn truth that he’s more relaxed with me.
He laughs. “Well, they liked him.” He looks thoughtful. “Which really, when you look at it, should have been a warning for me. The equivalent of a code red in a nuclear reactor.”
“Steven hated me, anyway,” I say. “He always treated me like I was five years old, and at the last barbeque, he told me I was flippant in the same tone that most people use to call someone a cunt.”
Jack bites his lip but doesn’t correct me. I knew it.
He changes the subject adroitly. “Anyway, I stayed the night and thought I’d fly with you.”