eating pizza again.’ Jess leans forward, taking a slice of Hawaiian from the cardboard box. ‘After this bit, I mean. This is my last hurrah.’
‘Pineapple on pizza is beyond disgusting,’ says Emma, looking at Becky for back-up.
Jess sits back and takes an extra big mouthful to prove that she’s wrong, making us all laugh. I watch as she curls her long legs underneath her, sitting tailor-style on the huge soft sofa cushions. And then – realising what I’m doing – I look away. She looks at the pizza, thoughtfully.
‘Pineapple’s the best bit.’
‘You are so disgusting,’ says Emma, walking across the room to get another bottle of red wine. ‘Drink, anyone?’
‘I’m with Jess. Team Pineapple forever.’
I take a piece of pizza in solidarity with Jess. Reaching across, she holds out her hand for a high five and then flashes me a beam of gratitude.
There’s a general groan of disgust from the other two. Jess gives me a sideways look and a cheeky, conspiratorial grin, before taking the hairband from her wrist and – as I’ve seen her do so many times before out of habit as we’ve been walking around London on our exploring trips – twists up her long, dark hair into a messy knot at the top of her head. I’d half expected to get back and find she wasn’t here this evening, after what happened yesterday.
I’d got home from a long shift at the hospital, and found Jess sitting at the kitchen table with a couple of friends. They’d been screaming with laughter over photographs on Tinder, with – incongruously – a pile of open Bride magazines spread all over the table.
Jess had looked from me, to the table, to and back, to meet my look of confusion.
‘Alex, this is my friend Gen I told you about, and this—’ she motioned to both of them, but I’d already recognised them from Jess’s descriptions ‘—this is Sophie.’
Sophie was blonde and very pretty, with her hair tied back from her face in a ponytail. I’m not sure how but she somehow managed to look as organised as Jess has told me she is. I think it was just because she seemed so neat. She looked like she’d never had a scruffy day in her life. Meanwhile, Gen was in a pair of rainbow-coloured trousers with a black vest top, and her wild red curls were pushed back from her face with a navy blue fisherman’s cap. The look shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. She looked exactly like you’d imagine someone in the theatre should look.
‘We’re trying to find a nice young chap for Jess,’ Gen said, looking at me with huge, very direct blue eyes. She had a mischievous look on her face, as if she knew something I didn’t. It made me feel slightly unnerved. I went to the fridge, opened a bottle of orange juice, and poured myself a glass.
I looked down at the wedding magazines and then at Jess, who rolled her eyes.
‘And you’re moving straight from choosing someone on Tinder to planning the wedding?’ I took a long drink of juice, then put the glass down on the kitchen counter.
‘I’m not planning on marrying anyone right now,’ Jess said, laughing. She gathered up the magazines and put them in a neat stack. ‘These are for Soph. She is getting married.’
‘And these two are terrified in case I’m going to force them to wear some sort of hideous meringue dress as bridesmaids,’ Sophie said.
‘Please, God, no,’ said Gen, raising her eyes heavenward.
‘He’s quite nice,’ Sophie said, leaning over Gen’s shoulder and looking at her phone screen. ‘Wonky nose, though.’
‘Oh my God, this is hideous.’ Jess hit the home button on the phone and the screen went blank.
I felt a bit weird. Maybe it was just the excess of female energy in the room or something, or the way Gen was looking at me as if she was sizing me up, but I didn’t like the idea of Jess on Tinder. There are loads of really dodgy characters out there.
The truth was there’s something inside me that feels slightly discomfited by the idea of Jess – London walking buddy, housemate, fan of midnight toast-and-Marmite snacks and chats over the kitchen table – dating anyone. I have absolutely no right to feel like that for about eight million reasons. One, because I’d made an executive decision at the beginning of this year that I wasn’t getting involved with anyone. And two, because of the whole Emma thing.