“No,” I said.
“Do you want a hug?” he asked then.
I nodded. And he pulled himself up from the sofa and hugged me, and I said, “I’m sorry,” into his neck.
Neither of us mentioned Joe.
We knew Lynn had won within about fifteen minutes of wetting our lips on the first pint of the night. The results came in unofficially at first. Lynn knew someone at the office who was pulling together the final figures, and sent Lynn a text message that said:
You’ve won in a Lynn-slide.
Lynn burst into tears, and we all shared hugs. Ryan and Samira had several hugs, I noticed.
A few of the regulars came over to cheer our success, and Eddie, the world’s least interested barman, even offered up a free round.
By about 6 p.m., we heard of a concession speech at the working man’s club, and Ryan said Gerry was absolutely fuming. I stumbled back home at around 9 p.m., to find the house empty, much to my relief. It was too much to face Ash after the excitement of the evening.
•••
Over the followingdays, I went through the final motions of party preparation. I knew how it looked to Ash, the way I kept a distance. It looked like I was hedging my bets by running down the clock in case Joe was coming. But in truth I was trying to unpick the feelings I had. This feeling that Ash was the one I’d waited my whole life to meet, but that I was a fool for walking away from the destiny that I’d believed in for all this time.
We fell back into the routine we had those first few weeks after he moved in. The one where I stayed in my room when I knew he was home, and where he left for work early. When we do see each other, he grabs my hand gently, or rubs my shoulder, and I stiffen at his touch. We discuss practical things about the impending housewarming party. Bills. Where to put the BBQ.
When Friday arrives, Lynn comes down to the lido to discuss next steps. None of us are sure how Gerry is going to react and what is to happen next, so we want to get our ducks in a row. Lynn pulls the end of a party popper as soon as she enters the foyer,defying both her firing and, now, the ban Gerry placed on her entering the building.
“You did it,” we all say, cheering again.
“By a Lynn-slide!” says Lynn, shaking her fist to the sky.
“Lynn-slide sounds like a sex move,” says Samira, handing her a coffee.
“Well, I’m thrilled,” she replies, shrugging. “I’ve never won anything in my life. Not even a scratch card.”
And now that Samira has said it, all I can think of is sex.
“Gerry apparently looked like he might explode,” says Ryan.
“Well, there’s still a mountain to climb,” says Lynn, wandering around the 3-D model of the lido that Ash’s cousin delivered here yesterday. “Now the real work begins.”
“I love the tiny little people,” says Ryan, bending down to inspect the pool. “That’s me, isn’t it? With the board shorts and the bare chest? Such amazing details in there, Mara. You’ve thought of everything. I always knew you were thorough, but you’re actually totally anal.”
“Don’t call her anal,” says Lynn.
“It’s okay. I’m comfortable with anal,” I say, shrugging.
“Comfortable with anal?Definitely put that in your Tinder bio,” Ryan says.
Everyone laughs, and then Samira says, “Mara doesn’t need a Tinder profile now, do you, Mara?”
I shift slightly in my seat and look at the ground.
“Oh no, Mara,” Samira says now. “You’re still together, right? We’re going to your party in a few hours.”
“Yes,” I say. “No. I don’t know.”
“You literally live together. You’ll need to figure it out,” says Samira.
I go through the final motions at work, stopping to pick up sausages, beers, and wine on the way home. When I arrive, Ash has already done everything. He got the food, he borrowed glasses from the pub, a trestle table from his parents, tidied the bathroom, and even set up the BBQ on the strip outside our house, which is not strictly legal, he tells me, but he’s spoken to the police. Of course.
