‘He likes you like that. I’ve seen him look at you. I’ve seen him dance with you. He likes you like that.’
‘Nah, it’s complex.’
‘Complex how? You’re an adult, he’s an adult. You’re single, he’s single, I’m guessing. So, two consenting adults who like each other like that.’ She puts a firm stress on her last six words, just to hammer it home.
‘He still has a whole lot of feeling for Jessica.’
‘Ahhhh. Okay. But he has to move on at some point, and he may well love Jessica – I imagine he’ll love her for ever – but he can still have feelings for you. He needs to pull his…’ Luisa whistled and makes nonsensical gestures with her finger ‘…out and take care of the present and the future, not keep living in the past.’
‘I don’t know if it’s as easy as just saying it.’
‘Saying it is a bloody good start. Maybe you could harness that Belle Wilde honesty and do so.’
‘I could but I won’t. Besides, he’s ghosting me at the moment.’
‘He’s fucking what?’ Luisa is bolt upright again.
‘Yeah, he normally messages me back within seconds but I haven’t heard from him since he took me to seeThe Winter’s Tale. It was both beautiful, wonderful dream-come-true stuff and a little bit horrific. It’s changed our dynamic, it looks like for good. Not a peep since. Not even when I got in touch to tell him all about Jamal. Dots for a bit but no actual message.’
‘What the…? Nah, nah. We’re not having this. Ghosting is the height of rudeness. No reason for it other than weak-willed cowardice. Just tell a person how it is and move on. Much better for everyone. That has changed my opinion completely. Com-plete-ly! Twat. How dare he?’
‘Well, it’s understandable, I think.’
‘Of course you fucking do. Because you will excuse everyone’s bad behaviour towards you until the end of time. Okay, look at it this way. Imagine Marsha is a grown-up and has spent the best part of a month with someone she really likes, who appears to feel the same and then from nowhere they stop answering her messages or whatever freaky futuristic thing people do then…’
‘Hell no!’
‘Right. Right? Not okay.’
Beep.
Both of our heads spin as my phone screen lights up.
‘Noooo! Is it him?’
I screw my eyes up as I reach for my phone then gently relax them to check the screen. I shoot a look at Luisa.
‘What? What!’ she says.
‘It’s Alison.’
Luisa shrugs, of course she doesn’t know who Alison is. Why would she? I have been rubbish at keeping her apprised of my life since Rory became my late-night confidante. Have I turned into one of those women, one that dumps her friend for a man? I hope not. I think I just got caught up in the joy of having Rory, hugging it as a secret close to me, maybe scared to share the intensity of my feelings, the speed with which they were changing. ‘Um … Alison is Rory’s mum.’
‘Well, what does she say? Has something happened to him? Is that why he’s not answered?’
‘Slow your roll. She’s reminding me of her invitation to a quiz night at her local pub. Would it be weird if I went? Yeah, it would be weird if I went.’
‘Do you wanna go?’
‘Nah.’
‘Are you lying?’ She wrinkles up her nose and pushes her face very close to mine.
‘Yah. I like quizzes. And this is a special Christmas quiz. And Alison is sound.’
‘And are you an empowered woman who does what she wants as long as it hurts no one else?’
‘Well, yeah. I think so. Definitely empowered since I told my dad where to stick it.’
