ever happen. ‘What star sign is Fabian, anyway?’
‘Aries, of course. I didn’t ask him directly, though. I just kind of quizzed him about when his last birthday was. But he’s totally textbook. Driven, fiery, ambitious, stubborn.’
‘He must spend shedloads of time at work,’ I said, ‘with all his start-ups and everything.’
Dani sighed and ate the rest of her cupcake in one enormous bite. ‘You know what, I almost envy you, Jude being there every night. You’re right, Fabian’s so busy. Last week he was in Bermuda and the week before he was in Malta, and he’s constantly having these business meetings that go on until, like, ten at night. He wants to see me – I know he does; he says so all the time – but there’s no point me hanging around at his waiting for him to get home, because there’d be nothing for me to do except mess around on my phone.’
‘Of course not. Jude doesn’t spend much time round mine, either, when I’m not there. He’s got other stuff to do, working late and meetings and stuff. Which is just as well, because we’re crazy busy and I’m on split shifts most days. So we only really see each other in the mornings and last thing at night.’
‘I see Fabian at the gym, though.’ Dani brightened. She had changed the time of her workouts to coincide with Fabian’s rather than with mine. I missed her company, but at least it meant we got to do other things together instead.
‘He’s there a lot, isn’t he?’
‘Yeah, just about every day. It takes hard work to get a body like his. He says it takes hard work to succeed in any avenue in life, and he’s right, of course. Maybe if I’d worked harder at uni I wouldn’t be stuck in a dead-end job I hate. But sometimes I wish he’d be just a bit less bloody driven, so we could do normal stuff together like watch Love Island and go to the pub and stuff. When we do go out it’s always to these flash restaurants and I never know what to wear or what to order or what knife to use. And his mates are always there and they talk across me about business and I feel like a right twat.’
Her words had come out in a massive rush.
I said, ‘On my last night off, Jude and I were meant to go out for a curry. Only there was this homeless guy sitting outside the restaurant, and Jude stopped to chat to him, and by the time he’d sorted out a hot meal for him and a bed for the night in a shelter, and somewhere for his dog to stay, it was too late, so we just went home and had toast.’
I remembered how respectfully Jude had spoken to Andrei, how he’d squatted down and shaken his hand and asked what his dog was called, and known exactly what he needed to do to help him. I’d felt the hugest rush of admiration for him then, and wished that I could be as capable and compassionate as him, as willing to abandon my plans when I saw someone in need. Never mind being able to speak a few words of Romanian. And how not being able to have the pea and potato samosas I’d been craving had faded into insignificance when I considered how fortunate I was to have a home and a toaster.
I remembered how, afterwards, Jude and I had gone back to mine, and he’d told me he loved me, and it had felt quite natural to say that I loved him too, and we’d had sex and it had lasted much longer that time. Although it hadn’t been quite there, not for me, the closeness to Jude had felt so precious and important that my lack of an orgasm had mattered about as much as my lack of samosas. We loved each other. It would get even better – we just needed practice.
I ate the last of my cupcake in one, enormous bite, and Dani finished her cappuccino.
‘Isn’t it amazing, having a boyfriend?’ she said. ‘Mum sent me a load of photos of my ex Jamie’s wedding the other day. I know she meant me to feel gutted that he’d got someone else and now he’ll never marry me, but I didn’t feel even a bit sad. I mean, I felt sad about her wanting to do that to me, but not about