‘That would bugger up my Samsung weekend,’ Rob said. ‘Not that I’d really mind. I’d much rather stay here with you.’
I didn’t have time to think up a reply that wouldn’t sound like a lie, so instead I winked at him and offered to make him a cup of tea.
But the week eventually came to a close, and though Italy had decreed a kind of quarantine where everyone had to stay at home, and though the TV screen was filled with images of the deserted streets of Venice, life at home, for the time being, carried on.
Shelley came round on Friday night, bringing the gift of face masks. Ange had got their mother’s sewing machine out and had churned out just over thirty masks made of children’s curtain material.
‘I’m not sure if they’re virus-proof,’ Shelley said, handing me two – one for Rob and one for me – ‘but I s’pose it’s got to be better than nothing.’
‘Rob will never wear this,’ I said.
‘No,’ Shelley said. ‘Gav, neither. He says the day he wears a mask will be the day Corbyn wins an election.’
So we chatted about Covid-19 for a while, and then she told me some terrifying facts about the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918. She said that Gav’s sister thought the whole ‘Covid thing’ was a hoax, like the moon landing, and then, because I had no idea what she was talking about, had to explain to me that there were people – fairly normal, clever people, she said – who believed the whole ‘moon thing’ had been staged in a film set out in Nevada.
When, eventually, that subject had run its course, Shelley swigged her beer and asked, ‘So are you actually going to do The Deed this weekend?’
I pretended to be shocked. ‘Of course not!’ I told her.
Shelley pushed her tongue into her cheek and raised one eyebrow.
‘Though I might have waxed,’ I admitted. ‘I’d forgotten how bloody painful it is. So maybe my subconscious has other ideas.’
‘So it was your subconscious what did the waxing then, was it?’ Shelley asked laughing so much beer went up her nose. ‘You crack me up, you do.’
* * *
I left the next morning at six.
Google Maps was telling me that the journey to East Portlemouth would take just under six hours, but I left eight so I’d have time to take breaks.
It was such a crazy undertaking, and I had so much time to think aboutwhyI was driving there, that there was no option really than to accept the fact that there was nothing casual about this journey at all.
By the time I’d joined the M3, I’d accepted the idea that I was probably going to sleep with Billy – at least, if the possibility occurred. This might be the last chance I’d get to do so, and it could even be the last chance I’d get to sleep withanyoneever again. In a way, it simply had to be done.
Around Ilminster my phone rang with an incoming call from Rob, so I had a major wobble there. I didn’t pick up, obviously. What on Earth could I have said to him?
Following the beep indicating he’d left me a voicemail, I started to feel so bad about what I’d been planning that I seriously thought I might puke. I pulled into a service station and ate half a sandwich and drank a can of Coke in the hope that the combination might calm my stomach and when it didn’t, when I continued to feel sick, I started looking at the map and considering whether or not I should turn back.
But then my phone rang again. This time it was Billy.
‘Just checking you’re really coming,’ he said. ‘It’s OK if you’re not, but I’d rather you just told me.’
I admitted I’d been having second thoughts, and was thinking about turning back.
‘Why would you do that?’ Billy asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I suppose I’m just worried this might be a really bad idea.’
‘Either it’s nothing, or it’s something,’ Billy said. ‘It’s a bad idea, or a really really good one. But either way, don’t you think it’s better to know?’
‘Maybe,’ I said.
‘Where are you now,’ he asked, ‘exactly?’
When I told him, he laughed. ‘You’re almost here,’ he said. ‘That’s less than two hours away. Come on! What have you got to lose?’
So, pumped up with caffeine and sugar from the Coke, I drove on, still trying to get my brain to settle on some definitive narrative about what was happening here.
