Shit, we’re gonna have to get a dog at some point. Look how much he wants this.
Instead of answering the question, Pi reaches into his shorts, removes his phone, and brings something up on the screen. It’s a news article from yesterday, featured on some independent sports website. There’s a photo of Eggo with his arm over the shoulders of the woman who accompanied him to Mr B’s wedding. I barely have time to read the heading before Pi shoves the device back in his pocket.
“Cents’ lock Finn Eggington splits with long-term girlfriend ahead of off-season break.”
“I’m going to Cornwall with Eggo for a few weeks instead. He’s taking it pretty hard. You’ll still have Trekkie, though, yeah? We’re not sure what we’re doing yet, or where we’ll be, and Eggs’s folks live in a tiny cottage by the sea, and well, Trekkie’s a bit of a terrorist.”
Great.
“Thank fuck!” Harry says, on his knees once again, wrapping his hands around the beast as though Pi might change his mind any second and take thedog with him. “I mean, that sucks for Eggs, but at least he’s got you annoying the bejesus out of him for four weeks.”
“Yeah, we’ll be able to do a lot of captain planning shit together.”
“Of course, captain planning shit.” Then Harry turns to me and . . . winks. He fucking winks, panto style. I thought he was clueless, but I guess I was wrong. I’m too shell-shocked to look at Pi for confirmation, but he can’t have missed that wink. Harry is not a subtle guy.
“We’ll be off, then,” Eggo says, returning to the kitchen doorway. “Leave you two lovebirds in peace.”
Harry gets to his feet, and Pi grabs his forearm, giving him the slightest of head shakes. It’s clear he doesn’t want my boyfriend opening his big mouth and spoiling whatever he and Eggo have together.
“Okay!” Harry calls out with lashings of affected nonchalance. He glances at me again, and I want to facepalm. “If I don’t see you before September, have a great summer,” he says, forgetting we’ll in fact see them in only a couple of hours.
“We’ll take good care of Trekkie,” I tell Pi, walking the teammates out of our new apartment.
“They’re fucking,” Harry says as soon as the front door closes.
“Yeah. I’m eighty per cent certain that’s what’s happening. How long have you known?” I ask.
“Hmm . . . ’bout four minutes.”
I laugh. Okay, maybe Harry’s not that astute after all. “We should get ready for Daisy’s leaving party.”
Mr B’s pub is heaving. Everybody has turned up to bid Daisy and Serasi farewell before their trip to Scotland tomorrow afternoon. All the Mudford-upon-Hooke villagers, all the Cents lads, and a lot of Serasi’s family and friends too, including her mad as fuck stepbrother, Henry. Pi and Eggo werebriefly in attendance, but they seem to have vanished into the night, probably together, and Harry and I have done nothing but pile conspiracy theory on top of conspiracy theory about their alleged involvement.
Daisy’s been crying all evening. Now I believe she’s too drunk to cry, but she’d ducked out to the bathroom about half an hour ago and hasn’t returned yet.
“I love your top,” Serasi says, stumbling over to me after a few dozen people have left and thinned the pub crowds out. She manhandles my chiffon Loewe blouse, dragging her fingers over the hem. “Where’s it from?”
“Thank you. He’s from Wrigsham, I think,” I reply.
She rolls her eyes, and we both look over at Harry, who’s standing beside the bar having a very animated discussion with Mathias Jones of all people. I’ve been keeping a close eye on the pair in case Harry starts kicking off for no reason, but it seems they’ve taken to loudly debating whether Jaffa Cakes should be classified as a biscuit or a cake.
“I don’t fucking care about VAT or lawsuits or any of that legal shit,” Harry yells. “It’s about what I know in my heart.”
“Daisy wants to see you, by the way,” Serasi says, still focusing on the boys. “She’s upstairs.”
“You’ll keep your eye on those two for me?”
Serasi rubs my shoulders. “Of course.”
“I’m happy she has you,” I say, still looking at Harry and Mathias because I can’t quite make myself meet Serasi’s eyes. “Even though you’re stealing her from me.” It was meant to be a joke, but I didn’t manage the delivery. I finally turn to her. “If anyone should take her away from me, I’m glad it’s you. You’re a wonderful person, and you make her insufferable, and you both deserve to be happy forevermore.”
“You know, Daze said the same about Abs. That he makes you excruciating to be around. She said you never stop talking about him and his freckly penis—”
I slap a hand over my mouth. “Oh,shit. I’m sorry.”
“And how warm and funny and kind and grumpy he is. He loves you so much,” she says. “Even I can see that he loves you with literally every fibre of his being and not a millimetre less. ”
“Serasi, shut up,” I whisper. “I’ll cry.” It’s too late, I’m already crying.
