‘It’s eleven a.m.,’ Anika says, leading her friend inside.Not to mention the queasiness …
‘Yeah, that’s why I got orange juice, too.’ She rustles a blue plastic bag from the corner shop and hands over the champagne.
Anika looks at it and shakes her head. ‘Onlyyouwould put Just Juice in Dom Pérignon.’ She glances back to see her friend shrug. They enter the kitchen to a frenzy of brunch-making – eggs, pancakes, fruit, the whole works. Anika’s stomach actually rumbles, which is a good sign. Wendy hugs Shameeka and Tina hello and pours them all some drinks. Anika observes the scene with a smile.
‘Two minutes, then we’ll bring it all through,’ Shamz tells them after she’s clinked glasses with everyone.
Anika returns gratefully to the sofa, taking a tiny sip of her drink – the nutritionist said she can have alcohol, but she plans to err on the side of caution. ‘How’s work?’ she asks Wendy, who has trailed in behind her and kicked off her trainers to fold herself onto the sofa too.
‘Ugh, did I tell you about Wanker Wayne, sweetheart? I swear to the Almighty, that man is constantly in the accessible loos playing with himself. It’s disgusting. If I had proof, it’d be HR hell for thatliteraltosser …’
Anika listens, laughing loudly at her friend’s anecdotes and bathing in the nostalgia. It feels like a morning they’d have back in Kentish Town, except Wendy has been trying to swear off her vape so there’s not the familiar sweet haze surrounding them.
Wendy reaches out to pat Anika’s knee. ‘Good to see you in the flesh, though, darling,’ she says more quietly.
Anika draws a breath. ‘Yeah, it’s been a while, right? Not since, um … the dinner.’ Now is as good a time as any to bring it up. ‘Look, I know you said it’s water under the bridge or whatever,’ she says, looking into her friend’s grey eyes. ‘But I went about that all wrong. It was really shit of me and I’m sorry. You know I love you, right?’
‘I love you, too, Neeky.’ She squeezes Anika’s hand. ‘I wish you’d said stuff before. You know I’m a gobshite and a closeted bitch – well, not like that. God, I wish I could give up dick.Sheltered.You know what I mean. I know I must have said stupid stuff a lot. I’ll work on that, OK?’
Anika shakes her head, leaning over to squeeze Wendy into an awkward sofa-hug. Her friend returns it while expertly keeping her flute of Buck’s Fizz level. A moment later, Shameeka and Tina start bringing the food through, and they ram the tiny dining table in the living room with plates of the delicious food. They eat on their laps, laughing and watching vintage episodes ofReal Housewives of Atlanta, chanting classic lines along with the ladies on the screen.
After they finish eating and clearing some of the plates away, Anika returns from using the loo carrying a tub of coconut oil, remembering she hadn’t gone over her scalp since washing her hair.
‘Come, let me do that,’ Shameeka says, and Anika goes to sit on a cushion on the floor in between her friend’s knees. Shamz is being notably gentler with her than when Anika’s seen her greasing her son’s scalp. She smiles to herself, fighting sudden tears at her friend’s tenderness.
‘Thanks, you lot,’ she says quietly, and she feels Shamz pause for a moment to pat her shoulder. Tina reaches over to feel Anika’s hair between her fingers.
‘Bit softer, isn’t it?’ Anika says.
‘Yeah,’ Tina says. ‘But it’s looking great.’
‘So far so good.’
Tina nods, reclining back on the sofa. ‘Yeah, man. But if things change, you know I’ve got you.’ She wiggles her head from side to side, making her bone-straight-bob wig swish.
Wendy draws an audible breath, clearly about to ask a question, and they all turn towards her. But then she breaks into a cackle. ‘D’you know what? Never mind!’
They join in with her laughter and Anika throws a cushion at her friend, but, as the chatter flows around her, she can’t help reflecting once again on where she is now, and how far she’s come.
This wasn’t all for nothing, she’s beginning to realise.
Maybe, in fact, it was essential to becoming herself.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Two days later, Anika is feeling perkier but also a lot more anxious. She stands by the record decks in her living room glancing out of the window, then checks her appearance using her front-facing camera before looking out again to see if she can spot her visitor approaching. A bit less tired and queasy now that she’s a few days post-chemo session, Anika also has plans to go out later that afternoon, making her evenmorenervous. It wasn’t through choice that these events have fallen on the same day, but the pressing need to make amends meant she took what she could.
Kwesi is around half an hour later than they originally arranged – something that Anika assumed might be the case, but it hasn’t stopped her tidying and re-tidying her flat, and positioning and repositioning herself on the sofa, and trying to work out how to seem nonchalant when in fact today feels fairly monumental.
A few minutes later her buzzer goes, and, before she knows it, Kwesi’s tall, slender frame is standing in her doorway. He looks her up and down, and she feels self-conscious for a moment as he takes in her bright-yellow Badu World Market tracksuit. She’s a bit thinner and she’s been careful to apply enough make-up to perk herself up without seeming too obvious.
‘Hey!’ she says, her voice sounding self-consciously spritely.
‘All right?’ he says, then gestures up and down at her with one hand. ‘This is sick.’
Anika feels her muscles relax.Chill out. He just likes your ’fit.
‘Cheers. Come in, come in.’ She steps to one side, smiling upat him, and before he passes Kwesi leans down and folds her up into a bear hug. He smells of weed and washing powder. Anika takes a big sniff, relishing it.My brother.
