It wasn’t until I’d left the building that I realised I’d left the half-eaten cake behind. And that Davie never said goodbye.
Chapter3
Mabel
Zoe was sitting on a kitchen chair, hunched over the table. Her chin resting in her hands, she stared at me wide-eyed. Even with the lingering drowsiness and in the neon glare of the ceiling lamps, her gaze was intense and piercing.
I could never hold out very long when she looked at me like that. I turned swiftly away, stirring the pot of spaghetti with a fork.
We’d bumped into each other thirty minutes ago, in the shared kitchen. It was after nine, and at this time of night we usually had the space all to ourselves. On Fridays, the others generally headed into the town centre, to spend the evening at one of Cambridge’s countless pubs. Usually, Zoe was one of them, but today she had other plans. For twenty minutes now she’d been talking about the ‘event’ that Ashton had invited her to. Or rather, us, if I was going to believe her.
‘Zoe, honestly,’ I began, when I could no longer ignore her eyes boring into the back of my neck, ‘don’t you think you’d have more fun without me?’
She snorted. ‘Without my best friend? No, I don’t think so.’
I resisted the urge to point out that, last time, we’d spent all of five minutes together before I’d ducked out and she’d swanned off with Ashton. I didn’t really like the idea of telling her where I’d been. And with whom. So far, I’d been evasive, explaining that I’d gone for a nose around the building, but I was afraid that running into not-Cliff again might lead me to reveal more.
Zoe would probably say the poor guy had a self-esteem problem, and that’s why he gave me a fake name. That I should give him a chance to explain himself. But I didn’t need any explanations from him. The way he’d reacted to me earlier told me everything I needed to know. He was simply a liar who thought he was better than me. And I didn’t want to talk or think about somebody like that. Let alone spend another evening in his company.
I put the colander in the sink. ‘Right. And what kind of event is this, exactly?’
‘Don’t say it like that,’ Zoe replied, sounding disgruntled.
‘Like what?’
‘You know, like’—she drew air quotes—‘event.’
I chewed my lip, avoiding her eye. Hurriedly I drained the pasta, grateful for the cloud of steam that rose up and veiled the look on my face. How were you even supposed to say that word without the air quotes? And wasn’t it kind of snobby to refer to a Friday night hang with friends as an ‘event’?
‘So, what happens at these… get-togethers?’ Admittedly, the euphemism still sounded suspiciously air-quotey.
‘No idea.’ Zoe shrugged. ‘Something amazing that we absolutely cannot miss out on?’
‘He didn’t tell you what they’re planning?’ I eyed the look of childish euphoria on her face with concern. I didn’t know anybody with as little innate mistrust as Zoe.
‘I didn’t ask.’ She shook her head. ‘Why do you always have to know everything? Just take things as they come.’
Right, sure. Because I had such a great experience last time. Silently I put the pasta into two bowls and added a tablespoon of walnut pesto to each. Zoe smiled gratefully as I sat down and slid her a portion across the table.
‘Why are you so keen to go, anyway? It was only yesterday he stood you up,’ I said carefully, after she’d taken the first mouthful.
‘Ash didn’t do anything wrong, not when you really think about it. I mean, he didn’t say he wasdefinitelygoing to call. A maybe isn’t a commitment.’
It took a lot of effort not to contradict her. I knew it was what she needed to believe if she wanted to like Ashton, but I still thought she was wrong. A maybe can mean lots of things, but usually it’s a way of giving someone false hope. Especially if what you really mean is never. It was inconsiderate and selfish. Definitely not what I wanted for my best friend.
Zoe sighed. ‘Okay, don’t give me that look, like I’m some pathetic woman letting herself get taken advantage of. Ashton isn’t a bad person, Mabel. In fact, he’s been a total gentleman. We haven’t even slept together yet. He hasn’t even tried it on. I think he genuinely likes me, you know?’
‘All right, then why aren’t you spending time alone, just the two of you? Don’t you think it’s weird he’s always dragging you along to see his friends, like he’s bringing them a present, like you’re his little “contribution” to the fun?’
The word was out of my mouth before I could think twice. I could have bitten off my tongue. Zoe had seemed so unlike herself after the party that I never told her about my lovely little chat with Ashton’s friends. Before I had time to explain or backpedal, she raised a hand and glared at me, her eyes flashing fury.
‘Okay. You know what? I’m going to go out tonight and do whatever the hell I want. And I’d really like you to come with me. Because I love you, and because I think it would do you good to switch off for a bit. But if you don’t want to, that’s absolutely fine.’ She stood up so abruptly that the wooden chair rasped unpleasantly over the linoleum. ‘But stop making me feel guilty about it. I don’t have to justify why I’m doing stuff that makes me feel good, Mabel. Not even to you.’
I opened my mouth, but she was already storming out of the kitchen. Slumping back into my chair in resignation, I stared at her empty seat. Guilt throbbed dully somewhere behind my ribcage, mingling with a vague anxiety that refused to dissipate.
I was prodding morosely at the tepid pasta when I heard a sudden knock behind me, making me jump.
The best thing about our kitchen was the patio. In summertime we often used to eat outside, sitting at the picnic table in the shade of the pink magnolia trees. In autumn and winter, however, we usually kept the sliding doors closed. You could use that door to reach the college, but we tended to prefer the main entrance.
