Jeffrey
‘Appointment: Friday, seven thirty p.m., dinner with Pritiand Devon,’ began the Audite’s synthetic voice.
Luca and Noah looked to one another across the dining-room table. Noah was already shaking his head, second-guessing what was to follow. He drained his gin and tonic in one long gulp.
‘Postponed,’ both he and the Audite said together.
‘Did they leave a reason?’ he continued.
‘Reason given – stomach upset,’ it replied.
Noah rolled his eyes. ‘Well, that’s a new one. In the space of a few days, we’ve had a sick grandfather, a broken heating pump and a cat with cancer as excuses for cancelling arrangements.’
‘Postponing,’ said Luca.
‘Don’t kid yourself. We’re being cancelled left, right and centre. We are toxic.’
‘We’re not, it’s just bad timing.’
‘Luca, don’t try and placate me. Everyone knows our situation and they’re giving us a wide berth because they don’t want to catch whatever we have.’
Jeffrey was pleased with himself. Along with introducing himself to some of the neighbours as their Relationship Responder, he had also contacted not only people listed in the Marital Support Bubble that Noah and Luca had provided when they’d signed their Smart Marriage contract, but everyone else in their contacts list too. ‘This is delicious,’ he said and used the back of his fork to slice into a vegan meatball in a sticky tomato sauce. ‘Where did you learn to cook so well, Luca?’
‘My grandparents are Italian.’
‘I have Italian blood on my father’s side, Sardinia, I think,’ Jeffrey said. ‘I was raised on food like this.’ The truth was he had no clue or desire to know of his family ancestry.
‘Oh, are we done now?’ asked Noah. ‘Conversation over?’
‘What else is there to say?’ asked Luca. ‘If we continue, it’ll go the same way all our conversations do. You’ll say one thing, I’ll disagree, then you’ll storm off.’
Noah looked to Jeffrey. ‘I’ve been reading through the contract you so helpfully like to remind us of and it says that people on our support list are supposed to rally round and help when a couple is Levelled up.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, where are they?’ Noah turned his head to take in the room and held his phone to his ear. ‘Because I don’t hear the phone ringing or anyone knocking at the door asking us if we’re okay.’
‘It’s a moral contract, not a legal obligation.’
‘How convenient.’
Jeffrey was noticing a gradual shift in Noah’s attitude. Evidence of confrontation and antagonism remained, like his behaviour now over dinner. But for the most part, there had been a reluctant acceptance that Noah no longer had control over anything outside the hospital where he worked. Past experience with other clients suggested it wouldn’t require much more pressure before their relationship collapsed completely.
Noah poured himself another drink, the tonic an afterthought.
‘We’re not supposed to be drinking while we’re in therapy,’ said Luca. He looked at Jeffrey who nodded.
‘I thought we’d finished for today?’ said Noah.
‘Do you cook much, Noah?’ asked Jeffrey.
‘Not since Luca talked us into going vegan. I know what to do with a steak, not so much with an aubergine, unless it’s an emoji.’
‘You could ask him to teach you. The more you do for one another, the more the other person feels appreciated.’
‘Here we go . . .’ said Noah and pushed a meatball around his plate, flecks of red sauce splashing his forearm.
Jeffrey blinked away a memory of Tanya’s blood doing the same thing when he’d slashed her wrists.
