“I’m not sure what you have to thank me for,” replied Audrey, who genuinely wasn’t.
“Just for helping her out. It was—look don’t take this the wrong way, but I know you think I’m a prick.”
“I don’t,” Audrey protested, subconsciously kicking herself at the insincerity in her voice.
“Yeah you do. So do most people. And I get it. But this”—he indicated himself, but with particular emphasis on the trilby/goatee/slightly retro shirt combo—“isn’t an act. People think I’m really tryhard because I’m really trying.”
Not sure what to say to that, Audrey made a kind of encouraginguh-huh?
“So, yeah I guess I was glad that even though you don’t like me you didn’t, like, trash me to her or anything. But you still had her back. And, like, I know that’s a tough line to walk so, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it?” Audrey tried. Partly because she was beginning to wish he hadn’t.
Joshua nodded. “Bye, Audrey.”
“Goodbye, Joshua.” Then after a moment’s pause she added, “Umm, do we hug?”
“Maybe not?”
“Yeah, good call.”
She watched Joshua walk away, out of the competition and in all likelihood out of her life. And felt the mildest pang of guilt at the fact she still thought he was a prick.
Unable to put off telling Doris the bad news any longer, Audrey made her way over to the steps, where she was still giving her obligatory just-glad-to-have-a-win-at-last interview. In as little of a hurry as ever, Doris said a polite goodbye to the camera operator and ambled over to where Audrey was waiting.
“Congratulations,” Audrey began, pushing aside any doubts she was still harbouring about the fairness of the whole arrangement. “It was about time you won a week.”
“Because of the story, you mean?” asked Doris with a playful smile.
“Because you’re good. You’ve done well every time, and this week you did best.”
Doris gave Audrey an askance look. “You think? Or you think it was just my turn?”
The honest answer was that it was difficult for Audrey to judge. “The problem is I know why you went with the bread. And that makes me a bit biased.”
“Bit pathetic really, isn’t it,” replied Doris. “Still thinking about that one day after all these years.”
“It’s not pathetic.” Audrey’s instinct would have been to say the nice thing anyway, but this time it really did have the virtue of being true. “We all have days like that, I think—ones we keep living in even when we shouldn’t. And if you’re going to have those sorts of days, better that they be the good ones than the ones that, well, that aren’t so good.”
Doris nodded a gentle agreement. “I’ve had a lot of good days.”
“And you’ll have a lot more.”
That made Doris laugh. “Leave it out. I know I’m old. You don’t have to pretend I ain’t.”
“I’m not pretending, I just mean—you know, life is still good. In general.”
Doris had stopped laughing. “She’s not coming, is she? You’d’ve said by now if she was.”
“Sorry.” Audrey tried not to squirm. On balance, she still thought going to see Emily had been the right thing to do. But it did mean she was now having to give shit news to a nice old lady. “And I would have told you sooner, but I’d had a long trip and I didn’t want to ruin your weekend and it seemed really insensitive to just come straight out with it after you’d won and—”
With the impeccable instincts of somebody who’d been grandmothering longer than Audrey had been alive, Doris came forward and folded her into a hug. “Hush now. It’s no matter. You tried your best and—was she okay? Was she happy, like?”
And Audrey wasn’t at all sure what to say to that either. “She was—she was exactly like you described her.”
“Not sure that answers my question.”
“Was she happy when you knew her?”
