this earth. There were other people like his Nancy.
9
Keisha
There are very few things that make me more nervous than what Lucy is currently offering.
‘We’ve got time for once. It’s not often you get to enjoy my cooking.’
‘I’m happy to have Shredded Wheat. Save you the bother.’ I can see that my attempts to get out of this are going to be futile.
‘I’ll just do you an omelette. That’s healthy because the eggs don’t absorb the fats like other foods.’
‘Okay,’ I concede. I wonder how long it’ll be before I need to check my pulse. There’s yet to have been an occasion involving watching Lucy’s culinary skills (or lack of) when my nerves haven’t deserted me. I already know as she bashes the frying pan on the side that this will be one of those occasions.
‘Great. It’s such a shame we don’t have breakfast together more often.’
‘It’s probably for the best,’ I say, picturing what this scene of harmony that Lucy is imagining would actually be like.
There are four of us in our houseshare. The communal areas are pretty basic and everything in the kitchen and dining area is white: tiles, walls, appliances, table and chairs. We’ve lived like this for too many years and it’s become too comfortable. It’s the kind of existence usually reserved for students and young professionals. We’re slightly older professionals now, but I don’t see the point of living any other way when this is perfectly functional. My only ongoing concern is Lucy in the kitchen, but at least she tries and she always cleans up after herself.
We live with Rob, Lucy’s long-term boyfriend. He’s the one she’s usually cooking for and the reason I don’t join them is more down to not wanting to be the perpetual gooseberry. That and the painful nature of watching what unfolds when Lucy cooks.
Rob and Lucy are one of those couples who are made for each other. They met in the first year of their undergraduate course in biology and have been biologically matched ever since. Perhaps my closeness to such a relationship is what has made me reluctantly take up Tess’s hundred-date challenge. From the outside I would say they are made for each other. But I have no idea what it is to be on the inside of such a matching.
They both, much to my annoyance, frequently want to set me up with our other housemate, Hiro. Now the problem with that is, Hiro talks to no one. He leaves early, gets back late and cooks in his room with a rice cooker, which is the only feature in his bedroom that I lust after. He has an en suite so it’s not even like we pass him in the corridor. I know I can be a bit odd, but that doesn’t make me an automatic match to someone who is on par with an invisibility cloak.
On the other hand, Hiro does make the perfect housemate. No mess. No fuss. No noise. There’s no need to worry about the usual social graces that a houseshare has to endure. Not when he’s absent so much of the time.
Lucy cracks the first egg and, without doubt, there are at least three pieces of shell in there. I say nothing as she tries to clear them away using her (thankfully clean) fingers. I’ve tried explaining the easiest way to gather the shell is using the remaining shell to scoop it up, but when it comes to culinary advice, Lucy likes to do things her way.
When the dish is finally delivered, it looks like a Jackson Pollock gone wrong. I try to appreciate the gesture, even though with every bite I’m expecting to hit the crunchy bits.
‘It’s nice this, isn’t it? Not having to rush into work like usual.’
‘I guess it does make a break from routine.’ Not that I’m keen on breaking the routine forever. If it hadn’t been for case study five escaping from his monitors this wouldn’t be necessary.
I don’t need to admit any of my concerns to Lucy. That’s the good thing about our friendship. She is the yin to my yang. When I have concerns, she helps me relax. Where she is messy, I am neat. Whereas I like to stick with proceedings, she shows me that sometimes chaos is okay. In theory we are so broadly different, we shouldn’t get along. But that’s not true in any way. Instead we bring to each other a level of functionality that wouldn’t exist if we’d never met.