‘No problem.’ He sat down in the saggy armchair oppositeher. ‘I hate to say it, but the coffee in London is actually pretty decent.’
‘I’m surprised you even drink coffee, to be honest.’
‘Why’s that? Not sophisticated enough?’ Fin took a big sip of his drink.
‘No. It’s just the Fin I remember had more than enough energy without the caffeine.’
He laughed, a tiny bit of coffee escaping from his mouth and dribbling down his chin.
‘OK, maybe also the sophistication thing,’ she teased, handing him a tissue.
‘Thank you.’ He wiped his chin quickly. ‘Unfortunately, that youthful exuberance left me as soon as I hit twenty-five. I am but an old man nowadays.’
‘Honestly, I swear as soon as I turned thirty, the speed of my ageing doubled.’
‘Really? I think you look the same.’
‘As I did at eighteen?’ she cried indignantly.
‘OK, maybe not. For one thing, your dress sense is a lot less cool.’ He raised his eyebrow cheekily.
‘Please.You’re giving me fashion critique? Do I need to remind you of that awful poncho phase you went through?’
He let out a loud snort. ‘I lived in that thing for like a month straight, didn’t I?’ He shook his head.
‘Yes, you did,’ she confirmed smugly, digging into the brownie. ‘It was gross.’
‘Man, I loved that poncho.’ He sighed fondly.
‘You were weird.’
‘And you were my friend, so you must have been pretty weird yourself.’
‘I like to think I was the balance. The normal to your strangeness.’
Fin’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, really? Do you want me to go into the time you became so obsessed with your next-door neighbour that you asked for a telescope for your birthday, just so you could try to watch him in his bedroom?’
‘All right, all right. Enough about the past,’ she insisted, her face reddening slightly. ‘We were both weird.’
‘Thank you very much.’ He nodded gratefully, unable to ignore the slight sense of unease that had crept into Eleanor’s demeanour.
Leave the past where it is.
What’s done is done.
‘Now …’ he started.
‘Now what?’ She arched her eyebrow suspiciously.
‘I have a favour to ask you.’
Eleanor sighed. ‘Aha! So, this was why you got me the carrot cake as well as the brownie.’
‘No,’ he said shiftily. ‘Well, maybe a little bit.’
‘Go on, I’m listening.’ She eyed him warily.
‘Long story short.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I’ve been asked to do a photoshoot for someone at my mum’s care home.’
