Chapter Twenty-Four
Imminent bad decisions
My carefully considered trip to the off-licence before going round to Zoe’s flat may have been, in hindsight, ill-advised. I really wanted to get things right after a few, shall we say, ‘unexpected generational differences’ that revealed themselves at the job interview, so went for pretty much exactly what I would have bought when I was in my mid-twenties to take to someone’s house on a Friday night. In other words, half a litre of cheap vodka, a large bottle of Coke, and a bottle of Chardonnay. I couldn’t find any Bacardi Breezers, unfortunately, but I did throw in two packets of Marlboro Lights, which are ridiculously expensive these days. I’m not sure anyone really smokes anymore but always good to be prepared. However, when I arrive at Zoe’s, my straining carrier bag doesn’t get the rapturous welcome I thought it would.
I ring the bell and Zoe opens the door wearing combat trousers that remind me of All Saints. Not the shop, the girl band. What happened to them? ‘Never Ever’ was my karaoke song back in the day. And that dance – so easy. You just had to shift from foot to foot and look around you, as though you were waiting for your ticket number to be called at the deli counter. It was a gift, really. But that’s not the point. I’m just glad I’ve put on one of my Bershka handkerchief tops, so I feel like I look just as cool as her. Not cool, sick. Or whatever it is.
‘Hey girl! It’s Erica, isn’t it? I’m Zoe. Haha! You know that already!’ Zoe leads me down the hall – she speaks really fast and laughs a lot, not always at things that are funny. The flat isdusty, cluttered, hair ties lying on every surface. It’s nothing like Devon’s, despite there being only two floors between us.
As we come into the living room area, she spots my bag and tells me I can ‘put my shopping on the table out of the way’, which is awkward. It isn’t exactly frozen peas and a Flash Bathroom spray – I was rather hoping we’d drink and/or smoke it. Then she offers me a cup of tea – also not what I was expecting. Unless she’s referring to gossip? Channing told me that’s what ‘tea’ means these days.
Zoe chatters on, introducing me to Kai and Jamal, who I recognise from the lift. They’re sitting on the floor by a large coffee table and seem to be playing a board game and eating popcorn and grapes. Kai has a nose ring and blond hair that forms ‘curtains’ on his forehead and reminds me of the good-looking one from East 17. Jamal is less smiley and wearing a baseball cap back to front, which I decide must be ironic. Or not. Who knows?
‘Erica is our new neighbour!’ says Zoe.
‘For real,’ says Kai, looking up at me. ‘What do you do, like, I mean, are you at college or…’
‘No, I’m…’ Why hadn’t I planned this reply? ‘I’m a… I work in… erm… advertising.’ I haven’t heard back about the Behold The Banana job yet but I’m pretty confident.
‘For real.’ He smiles. He has a twinkle in his eye, and yes, I’m aware that sounds like something from aCarry Onfilm. Thankfully, I resist the temptation to say ‘Oooh Matron’.
Nobody asks me any more questions. But alarm bells are ringing: the scene is nothing like anything I recognise from my youth. Where are the banging house tunes? There doesn’t even seem to be any music on at all, just a bubbling noise coming from the fish tank. Why does the room smell like scented candles rather than tequila and imminent bad decisions? And most importantly… what’s with all the toys?
‘Do you have kids?’ I ask, desperate for an explanation of the Sylvanian Families figurines everywhere. It’s less the elephant in the room, more the squirrels, rabbits and hedgehogs in the room.
Jamal looks up. ‘Ha! No, they’re Zoe’s. She’s into whimsy.’
I really have no idea what’s going on. ‘The rapper?’ I ask, more for something to say than with any conviction. ‘Whimsy’ does sound a bit like ‘Stormzy’ though, surely? And I saw him on the Brits a couple of years ago so he’s definitely a real person and (possibly) fashionable.
Everyone looks at me. Feeling I need to act quickly, I say the first thing I can think of about the toys, a character I remember from when I was babysitting Oli a few years ago. ‘Personally, I like Postman Pat.’
Nobody says anything for a few seconds, so I carry on. ‘I’ve got the van. And the… sorting office.’
There’s a silence, then Zoe laughs, but appears more confused than amused. ‘He’s not very… whimsical, though, is he?’
She goes into the kitchen area to make my tea and Jamal takes a big mouthful of popcorn, crunching loudly and looking at me.
‘We’re just about to play.’ He is thankfully changing the subject, and points to a console next to the giant TV, which could be an Xbox or a PlayStation or frankly, an air fryer, I really have no idea.
‘Great!’ I say, trying to shake off the sinking feeling that makes me wish I was arriving at Nandy’s with a bottle of white Rioja and an antipasti platter.
‘Are you a gamer, Erica?’ asks Kai, folding up the board game and moving cushions and bean bags into position around the TV.
I try to think of a computer game I played in the Nineties, and can’t, but then remember my flatmate Miranda. ‘Yeah, I like Quake.’ Please god let it still exist.
‘Retro!’ says Kai. ‘Love that. My dad used to play Quake. It’s a shooter though, right? We’re cosier.’
‘Yeah, same. I mean, I don’t play Quake that often.’
Zoe reappears and hands me a cup of tea, which isn’t gossip and actual tea, and very milky. I sip it, wondering why they’re drinking tea at eight p.m. on a Friday. Maybe they’re stoned? I can’t smell weed though. Maybe they’ve had edibles? Hopefully I’ll be offered some soon too. Or maybe they’re hungover from last night. That makes more sense. Thursday was always a big night out for me too, back in the day. I drop down on a beanbag, silently thanking Yuvana Labs for the renewed ability to perform such an action without rolling over like a sheep in a snowstorm.
‘Are you guys pretty hungover then?’ I ask as Jamal hands me a controller that I will shortly have no idea how to operate.
I instantly regret the use of the word ‘guys’ – I sound like HR asking everyone in the office not to heat up fish in the microwave.
Jamal shakes his head. ‘No… I don’t drink. Nor do you much, do you Kai?’ He tilts his head at me as though to look sympathetic. ‘It makes him anxious.’
Kai nods sorrowfully. ‘Too much self-care needed the next day; I just can’t even.’
