I'm sure it's why I got so angry. Ed's revelation he wrote the letters scared the shit out of me, because...
I think, maybe, I kind of...
Want him to have meant them?
I don't like it. I don't like the weight of what's forthcoming. It feels like a bomb's about to drop. And I don't like that I'm looking at Ed differently now when I have no idea how he looks at me.
No wonder I'm angry.
Footsteps sound behind me and I close my eyes against them. I'm going to have to tell Ed to disappear from my life for however long it takes for me to come to terms with what's happening.
"Chica!"
And although I should be relieved it's not Ed, I can't help but feel disappointed. I don't bother to hide the groan that escapes. "Fuck off, Theo."
"Hey now. That's no way to greet your investment partner."
"It's perfectly appropriate if they're an arsehole."
He comes into view and leans against a chimney pot. "I'm just a two-bit hustler playing the bank jam."
Pointing my finger at him, I say, "If you talk to me in that ridiculous patois of yours, I will throw you off this roof. Don't think I don't have it in me. Talk straight or go away. I'm in no mood to humour your affectations."
"Aight."
I push myself up out of my lounger.
He throws his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay! Average-white-boy-from-the-Mayfair-ghetto speak only. Calm down, Bess."
I point my finger at him. "Don't you start with that patronising shit either."
Crossing his arms, he says, "If you're going to be angry at anyone it should be at yourself. The only person here who took to two million pounds with meths and a lighter was you. If you hadn't completely lost your mind, I wouldn't be here and you'd be the sole owner of this building."
"I wouldn't have been put in that situation if you hadn't been an absolute meatstick with your money in the first place.”
The Odour flicks his hair off his forehead. "You know, maybe it's time for you to pull up your big girl panties and face the realities of the real world, where things cost what the market decides they cost, and those that aren't fit enough to survive go out and find a real job."
I laugh. "Can you hear what you just said? You've never had to face the realities of the real world in your life, Theo, because you've been cushioned from them by generations of wealth and entitlement.Andyou've never been in any kind of position where you might have to 'go out and find a real job', so spare me the hypocritical sanctimony."
The Odour is quiet for several seconds. "I might have to, actually."
"What? Even with the exorbitant rent coming in in two days?"
His, "Yes," is on the verge of a whisper.
And as much as my heart in no way bleeds for him, I am very curious as to the circumstances in which he finds himself on the precipice of having to find honest work. "Is it that bad?"
"It's pretty bad."
I take a sip from my glass and note the furrows in his brow, the glaze of his eyes as he worries about just how bad it is, the slight tremor of his hand as he sweeps his hair away from his forehead. I shouldn't enjoy it as much as I do.
He looks out over the town and squints so that little creases gather in the corner of his eyes. Then he takes a deep breath and exhales through pursed lips.
It's pretty goddam glorious.
He looks across at me, then down at my glass. "Do you think I can have a drink?"
I consider it, then nod my consent.
