Ava:Wasn’t it?
Marie:It had better be a fucking joke, Callum Callaghan, else I’ll be in touch with Father Kieran about having a chat with you about your manwhoring ways.
Jackson:Bloody hell Marie, where did you learn such terminology?
Marie:I heard Payton call him a manwhore and googled it. I then asked your father if he wanted to be my manwhore.
Maxwell:I think I’ve just died and landed on another plane.
Payton:What a time to join the conversation. What a time to be alive. Mum, saying these things isn’t cool.
Ava:Payts – dinner @ Max’s tomorrow?
Payton:Yep. Signing off now. Please never add Owen to this group. Or any of my friends.
Seph:Funny how you mentioned Owen first. Is he not just a friend?
Payton:Fuck off.
Claire:Take your twinny row elsewhere. Maxwell, I think everyone’s coming. What time do you want us?
Maxwell:Vic says about 2.30. And to bring wine. Not shit stuff either.
Seph:I wouldn’t insult wine by buying shit stuff.
Max:No, you’ve developed an expensive palate while you’ve been living with us. Speaking of which….
Seph:Gotta go.
Maxwell:Who’s on Seph sitting duty after us?
The messages ceased, no one wanting to take responsibility for Seph knowing full well he could stay with Max until Seph himself wanted to move on. I checked the time and figured I needed to leave or I’d have to take an Uber instead of walking and I wanted the fresh air. The secret room had been oppressive and claustrophobic and being outside in the cool air peppered with light rain sounded like paradise.
I walked to Eli’s with a large umbrella that was overly colourful and far too large for a small person, but it kept me dry. Eli let me in via the intercom as soon as I spoke. I reverted to my childhood self and tried to race to his door before he got there, almost tripping up over the umbrella. I didn’t win and saw him standing in the doorway, laughing at me.
“What the fuck is that?”
“It’s raining outside,” I said.
“That’s obvious. Why didn’t you ask me to pick you up?” He looked half cross.
I shrugged and smiled, liking the feel I was getting from him. He was genuinely concerned and his tone suggested that he was almost angry for me possibly getting wet in the rain. “I needed the fresh air. Stop being a caveman.”
Eli shook his head as if he didn’t know what to do with me – although there were several things I could think of.
“Leave that monstrosity here,” he said, gesturing to the umbrella holder that was part of the old fashioned coat stand near his door.
I’d clocked his furnishings the first time I’d been round and liked the mix that told me he didn’t care about a theme; it was all about what was important for him. I suspected there was a story behind the stand.
He picked out a black golfing umbrella and gave my colourful monstrosity a disgusted glare. “Shall we get a drink beforehand? You’re really early.”
I smiled broadly. Most girls took twice as long as me to get ready. I didn’t fuss and change outfits several times; I had a plan. There was always a plan. Without a plan I was pretty much screwed. “I’m usually early when I’m going out. It’s working with men who get ready quickly. If we go for drinks after work I have the time it takes them to have a shit, a shower and a shave.”
Eli choked back laughter. “That’s one way to put it. Surely if you’re an interior designer you shouldn’t spend that much time with builders?”
We started to head out of the apartment block. The rain had ceased a little and instead of the frequent thin splashes, it was more in the air. “I’m good enough that when architects are planning and implementing they ask my advice as to where walls should go or types of windows. The interior needs to relate to the exterior so I do work with them a lot. Jon, who you met the other day, gets me in frequently to work with his clients.
“How did that lady’s house go? The one where he wanted you to meet at the weekend.”
