why it got to me. Maybe just that moment of realising that the old cliché about life being short really is true?
Back home, hours later, dead on my feet and bleary-eyed, I’m in the kitchen ripping off the plastic on a microwave meal for two, tipping it onto a plate, when Rob comes in with a couple of dirty mugs.
‘That crap’s no good for you, man,’ he says. He shoves the mugs in the dishwasher and turns to look at me. ‘You need some decent food inside you when you’re working those long shifts. Believe me, I know.’
‘It’s better than Becky’s Cock Soup,’ I say.
There are still about fifteen packets of the stuff in the cupboard. It’s become a standing joke. We’ve tried adding vegetables, throwing in noodles, even mixing it with a tin of sweetcorn. It’s still absolutely disgusting, but come the week before payday, we’re not too proud to give it another go.
The microwave curry tastes pretty grim. The chicken’s somehow spongy and rubbery, and the rice has dried up in parts and is rock hard. But I’m exhausted and starving hungry and there’s nothing else to eat, so it’ll have to do. Once I’ve had a sleep I’ll nip out and get some shopping.
‘You working tonight?’ I say, looking at Rob.
‘Night off. Thought I might go and see that new Marvel film at the cinema if you fancy it.’
‘I’d love to, but I can guarantee you that within five minutes of the opening credits, I’d be fast asleep. I feel like I haven’t stopped for days.’
‘I’ve been meaning to ask what the story is. You sort things out with that Alice lassie?’ He grins. ‘Wee bit awkward getting home to find your ex standing in the kitchen.’
‘Just a bit.’ I nod. ‘Anyway, I’ve cleared the air with her, at least.’
‘So you’re just friends now?’ Rob asks.
‘Well, as much as you can ever be. Civil, I think, is probably as good as we’re going to get. She’s still not over me giving up law for nursing, no matter how much she’s tried to convince herself it didn’t matter.’
‘Aye,’ says Rob, sagely. ‘Not easy to get your head round something like that. My ex-wife couldn’t cope with my long hours working in the restaurant. Not many can. It’s a killer, but I couldn’t give it up.’
‘Did she give you an ultimatum?’ I ask, looking up with interest. I had no idea he’d been married. I don’t know much about him at all, really. Rob doesn’t talk about himself much, although I’ve found him chatting away to Becky a few times in the kitchen when I’ve got in from work. But Becky’s like that – she could strike up a conversation in a room full of statues. Probably has, knowing her.
‘No, but if she had … I cannae tell you which I’d have chosen. I bloody love my job. I spent years working in construction, and paid a fortune to retrain. You’ve got to follow your heart, haven’t you?’
These words, coming from the stocky, gruff Scotsman make me smile. He’s right, though.
Of course, what I’ve not mentioned to him, or to Becky, or to anyone – and I’m not sure why – is that it turns out that after we split, Alice had had a semi-serious fling with Paul, who I used to work with. I think it was them splitting up that was the catalyst for her getting back in touch. It’s weird because he was one of the ones from the office who’d sort of kept in touch – for a bit, at least. We’d been out for drinks a few times since leaving, and yet he’d never mentioned it. Not that I’m in any position to comment, given what happened with Emma.
God, relationships are complicated. I head upstairs, pull the curtains, and climb under the covers. Sleeping after night shifts is a killer in the summer. It’s so hot that I’ve got to leave the window open, but there’s music blaring and car horns beeping and kids off school yelling at each other in the gardens, and there’s no way I can possibly sleep with all that going on …
Weird thing is it’s not Emma or Alice who get caught up in my daytime dreams when I’m tangled in the sheets, dozing, trying to catch up after night shifts. It’s Jess. My subconscious is an awkward bugger.
When it becomes clear I’m not falling asleep any time soon, I shove off the sheet and climb out of bed,