Charlie didn’t get home until after midnight. I’d left the farmhouse around eleven, but I wasn’t in bed, I was just watching the fire die down, drinking endless lemonades, writing that last email and ignoring the voice telling me it wouldn’t be a big deal to have a glass of wine.
“I spoke to Rog,” she said. Her tone was muted. “I’m really glad he wasn’t stealing.”
“Mm. Me, too.”
We said nothing for a while. I didn’t let myself look at her. I just fiddled with my lemonade bottle and stared into the fire. If we didn’t live together, there was no way we’d have spent any time together this evening. Everything still felt raw.
“Did you figure out what’s going on with Red?” I asked into the silence.
“No. She’d pulled herself together by the time I got there. She says she’s fine. I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually. I mean—we will.”
Her voice wobbled a little. I couldn’t help it: I looked at her then. I thought of Marly laughing at me, telling me I wouldn’t care so much about the Rog thing if I wasn’t obsessed with her. Charlie had her hair pulled up in a clasp, and there was a little worried frown just visible beneath her fringe. Despite the day we’d had, I wanted to smooth it away with a kiss.
It occurred to me that I’m so rarely angry, and when I am, it’s almost always with myself. What had hurt about Charlie’s behavior was the fact she’d confirmed something I loathe about myself. And that it had been Charlie, of all people, to do this—the person whose opinion I have apparently come to care about immensely. The woman I am—look, let’s be honest—obsessed with.
Fuck.
Charlie met my eyes and took a deep breath in and out.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst about Rog. And I shouldn’t have tried to handle it without you. I thought I was being mature and taking responsibility. Challenging the anxiety by taking on something everyone would dislike me for.”
“There’re two of us. You don’thaveto take all the responsibility,” I said, but in truth the anger had gone out of me. And I liked that she’d apologized like that, without messing around or diluting it. Just a sorry and an explanation.
She moved around the sofa and perched on the arm. I could smell her perfume—it’s rich and floral, too complicated to pick out one particular scent, and it lingers around this place all the time. Getting a proper hit of it made me close my eyes for a moment.
“It’s just been so nice seeing you happy lately,” she said. “I didn’t want to wreck that. Though…I did, in the end.”
“I don’t need you to look after me, Charlie. I actually need to know I can cope, I think, without any crutches at all. No alcohol, nobody who I lean on to keep me going…”
“There’s a big difference between leaning on alcohol and leaning on a friend. And I never thought you couldn’t cope, I just wanted things to be good for you, that’s all.”
I felt a little shot of pleasure when she said that.
“Good, for me, is being someone who’s an equal, not someone who needs babying, or looking after,” I said, resisting the urge to ask,Why do you want things to be good for me? Do you find yourself thinking about me all the time, the way I find myself thinking about you?
She nodded. “I get that. I’m sorry.”
Again, there was a lovely simplicity to that. I’ve never had an argument end quite like this one. I tried to give her back the same.
“I’m sorry for what I said about Galoshes. That doesn’t have to be on you—it’s not your fault she’s so unreasonable with you.”
“No, you were right, though. It’s such an obstacle for us. I need to find a way to make her like me.”
“No, you don’t. You need to find a way to show her she should respect you. You’re a pretty impressive person,” I said softly. “Shouldn’t be hard.”
“Ha. I don’t feel it when I’m around her. I just feel…” She pulled a face. “Anxious.”
“Still feel new saying that?”
“Still new. Speaking of.” She slid her foot across the sofa to nudge the empty bottle of lemonade in my hand. “Well done.”
“Thank you. I’ve had four, and two mocktails at Marly’s.”
“Wow. You’re well hydrated.”
I told her yes, I was, and also high on sugar, and possibly lemons.
She laughed. “Does it help? The lemony sugar?”
