‘I hope so. I really want it.’
‘You got a first: you must be in demand.’
She blushes. ‘I’m set up with a good law firm, but I’m so new and so junior that I’ve definitely got to stick to my hour for lunch. This is the only lunch break I’ve had since I started. I’ve been too scared to take any. No one else does.’
‘I’m sorry your working hours are so hard, but I’m so proud of you. So proud. Imagine me being friends with a barrister.’
‘Maybe one day a barrister. Imagine me being friends with a supermodel.’
‘Not remotely “super”. But chugging along nicely,’ I tell her.
‘You’re doingamazingly,’ she coos. ‘I saw you inEllemagazine in an advert. I made thisoh-oh-ohnoise and coughed on my coffee, I was so excited. I kept it. It’s on the coffee table in my new flat.’
‘Thanks. It’s the only glossy magazine advert I’ve done, so I love it when I see it in print.’
We make our way towards a niche Italian coffee bar and get in the queue. As Liv’s so short on time we’ve decided to make it quick, grab some items from the individual vendors in the market and go and sit on the brick walls surrounding Southwark Cathedral and try to catch up on months of everything we haven’t said by text message, which I’m guessing from her side is going to be loads.
We stand to one side, sipping our flat whites while waiting for our paninis to be warmed up.
‘Tell me about your new flat,’ I instruct as we try to shuffle into a ray of sunlight streaking towards us. It’s so warm outside today. A perfect early-autumn day.
‘It’s in Spitalfields.’
‘Swish,’ I say.
‘Yeah. Swish but small. Like, super-small. Studio flat. I can practically touch all four walls at once. But it’s only me and it’s sort of handy for my new work, but it’s also very good for restaurants. Have you been to Galvin?’
I shake my head.
‘We should go one day.’
‘I’d love that. It’s a date.’
‘What about real dates?’ Liv enquires after we’ve collected our sandwiches and started walking. ‘Anything since Ben?’
I shake my head. It’s no longer quite as raw as it was. It’s about a year. It’s true what they say: time does heal. ‘No. I have no idea why not. The odd flirtation, but … if I’m honest, I think I needed some recovery time. I didn’t have the headspace or the time to date seriously after that. And before you know it, a year has gone by.’
‘It’s been too long,’ Liv says. ‘Since …’ She trails off.
‘The house-party from my worst nightmare,’ I comment. ‘And the crash.’
I look at her head, where a white scar runs across her temple, and she touches it automatically.
‘It doesn’t matter now. It’s in the past,’ she says, but I’m not convinced.
We’re silent for a moment as we sit in full sun by the cathedral, the road before us with cyclists having to pause every few seconds as pedestrians walk out in front of them. The Shard is behind us, reflecting bright sunlight like a mirror.
‘Do you ever hear from Ben?’ I ask when I can’t keep it in a moment longer.
She shakes her head a bit. ‘Not really. After we both left hospital and went back to the house, my parents helped me pack and I left. I hear he scraped a third.’
It feels weird that I didn’t know this. We’ve been moving in different directions, but this simply confirms it. ‘At least he got something.’
‘Yeah. Still drinking, though. Or he was the last time I spoke to Ollie. He told me it’s got worse, but it’s odd how Ben can cope so well with it. High functioning to the extreme, although not high functioning enough to get more than a third. I’d be puking my guts up if I put away the amount he does.’
This depresses me more than it should. I still love Ben, just maybe not like that. It’s funny how Liv talks to her ex every now and again, but won’t talk to Ben. But then Ben crashed a car with her in it and although it was an accident, she’s holding a grudge. I can’t blame her. I wasn’t there. I can’t know how it all feels. I only know how I feel, and as I’m not talking to Ben, either – I get it. I do.
The sun goes behind a cloud and I shiver through cold and … something else. Liv lifts the lid of her coffee to blow on it, as if the fragmentation of our foursome doesn’t really affect her. Maybe it doesn’t. Or maybe she’s dealt with it so much better than I have over the past year.
