I am now even more determined to be sour (but politely).
We ride in silence while I eavesdrop on the conversation in the back seat. He likes her outfit. She likes his. Her work week was fine. His was really busy (end of month). She is excitedfor the restaurant. He is excited to see the movie. Their hands are touching on the middle seat between them. I bite back a laugh at the generic Hinge-conversation-brought-to-life, but then I clock that Arthur has seen me, so I turn to look out the window.
William looks down at the jacket on his lap. ‘I’m so glad you found me. I could have kicked myself when I realised I had lost my favourite jacketandmy shot with you.’
Bee blushes and lowers her gaze, looking back up at him through her eyelashes. ‘It’s amazing what a woman can do with the right incentive. I had your name and where you worked, from there it was an easy leap to find your LinkedIn and then your Instagram. I just knew I had to find you.’ Interesting retelling. Arthur lets out a low whistle. William looks thoroughly impressed and thoroughly besotted. And the conversation moves on.
We are going movie-first, and William andBiancawander off towards the candy bar without looking back at their chaperones. For the first time, I turn to look at Arthur.
‘Are we going to get tickets?’
‘I’ve already got them on my phone.’ He brandishes it as proof. ‘Just ours, William has theirs. We’re exactly five rows back and seven seats to the left of them.’ He points at the growing line at the bar. ‘Do you want a glass of wine?’
Although short, this is our first conversation without snapping since we’ve known each other. Which is cumulatively about forty-five minutes, but still. I decide to match his energy and put aside the sour for a moment. And get a free glass of wine. ‘That would be nice, thank you.’
‘White or red?’ he asks, then we wait in the line in silence while I resist the urge to stare at my phone. He buys himself a beer and me a pinot grigio in the blockbuster size. I think that says a lot about a man, so he rises slightly in my esteem. I try not to stare at the forearms exposed by his rolled-up woollen jumper. Certainly not at the way his muscles move as he picks up the drinks off the bar or…No. I’m not going to actually enjoy him.
That would be impossible, because he’s an asshole.
In our seats, I open my bag and pull out a bag of popcorn, a packet of Maltesers and a bag of snakes. He looks on with what seems to be a mixture of horror and awe. Bag goes to the floor and I gesture magnanimously to the feast in my lap. ‘Would you like to share my snacks?’
‘Aren’t we going to dinner after?’
I look at him. ‘Yeah. So?’
He shrugs, and grabs the snakes.
‘Interesting choice.’
He tells me to shush during the trailers, and I catch him taking down titles in his Notes app when he sees a movie he’s interested in. Weird. I think it might cancel out the wine thing. I am totally paying attention to the generic action movie with that one hot guy in the lead role, but I also notice how Arthur alternates between the snakes, Maltesers and popcorn, in order, before taking a measured sip of his beer. How he definitively stops all snacking halfway through the film, then finishes his beer and sits with his hands in his lap.
From five rows behind I can see that William andBiancahave the popcorn sitting between them. When they bothreach for it at the same time, their hands brush; shy smiles are illuminated by the explosions on the screen, to which they are entirely oblivious. He gestures for her to go first. She does, and then rests her head on his shoulder.
Dinner is at an Italian place near the cinema. Arthur and I are seated by the door to the toilets.
‘Do you think they specifically selected this awful table?’ Arthur asks as the door swings back and forth behind him, releasing a slight waft that makes my bowl of claggy carbonara even more wholly unappetising. ‘Did they call ahead or something?’
I consider the couple in question, who are leaning so far across the table I half expect them to start slurping the same piece of pasta. Bee always did have a thing forLady and the Tramp.But I know for a fact that Bee has chosen the risotto quattro formaggi (low splash-risk; no garlic breath).
‘Honestly,’ I say, ‘I’ve been wondering if this whole evening is just a practical joke on us.’
‘Because why do two fully grown adults need chaperones on a first date?’ he asks.
‘Exactly! It’s completely bizarre, right? DidWilliamgive you a reason?’
‘He did not. And I’ve tried so hard to figure it out!’
‘Was he trying to set us up? If it had been Bee’s idea, I would definitely assume it was a setup—she loves to play matchmaker. My last three boyfriends were friends of her boyfriends.’
He makes a face. ‘Seriously? Did she make you break up with them when her relationships ended?’
‘No!’ Then I think for a moment. ‘I mean, the relationships all ended around the same time, but coincidentally. One of the guys cheated on me.’ That isn’t a flex.
Thankfully, he ignores it. But he smirks as he says, ‘I don’t think a setup is William’s style. He’s too busy with his finance douchery.’
‘That’s good to know, because despite this tentative detente we have reached, I really look forward to never seeing you again after this evening.’
‘And I you, milady.’ He clinks his glass against mine, and we both turn back to the show. After a few more moments, he starts to speak again.
