Why do I sense he’s not telling me the truth about what happened last night?
He casts me a gloomy look. ‘I’m off out.’
‘Do you ever have a night in, Oliver? Perhaps watch TV or write something?’
An awkward silence descends upon us. He scratches his head. ‘I have to put Alfie…’ His words come to an abrupt stop, and I make a mental note of the name Alfie.
He clears his throat. ‘Jamie is lonely. He… ummm… needs company.’
‘Jamie?’
‘Yes, he’s struggling. I’d better go out. There’s a homemade meat pie in the oven for you.’ His dark eyes hold my gaze for longer than necessary.
I return to shoving handfuls of bay leaves under my mattress and mutter under my breath about annoying but handsome flatmates who cause chaos but cook wonderful meals.
19
He’s gone out. The apology dinner he’d cooked for me was out of this world. His homemade meat pie had golden-brown flaky pastry and a rich beef filling. He had served it with cream potatoes and a plate of green vegetables, which were so flavoursome I devoured them in seconds. Lenny sat on the opposite kitchen chair and cast me judgey looks. He is a huge Oliver fan, and I sense that he wants me to forget about the late nights and enjoy the food.
After washing up my plate, I open up TikTok on my phone and gasp. On my For You page, staring back at me is Eva and her new book-review account. Wow – she’s gone back to what she loves best. Seeing her greeting her followers makes me feel emotional. She’s standing in front of a white bookcase, filled with colourful book spines, ornaments and a lush, green trailing plant.
She holds up a pink romance book. ‘I have finished reading this. It was spicy, yet in places an emotionally charged read. It was so well written that I felt like I was the female lead by the end, and he was my sexy boyfriend. I will say that if he were my boyfriend, I would have to do something with his obsession with beige roll neck sweaters.’
That was posted earlier. I flick through her new profile and see that she has several new videos. I watch her first one where she introduces herself, and then I watch the rest. By the end, I am fighting back tears.
We fell out because of my curse and my big mouth. If I had kept my mouth shut about Karl, Eva and I would still be friends.
I flick onto Instagram and see that she’s on there too with her book reviews and her pretty shelves. She must be back living with her mum, as I can see photos of her in a kitchen with a silver tabby cat who looks like her mum’s cat, Tiddles.
God, I miss you, Eva. I stare at a photo of her smiling into the camera.
A memory comes to mind. Before she met Karl, she and I created what we called her ‘Hot Rocker Manifestation Board’. She was struggling on dating apps, and one evening, we decided she needed to manifest her ideal man. As a teenager, she’d had many crushes on rock stars, so she decided that she would manifest a hot man from a rock band to date.
I brought home some old music magazines, glue, and coloured paper, and we sat at the kitchen table, drank wine, and made her Hot Rocker Manifestation Board. On a piece of pink A3 paper, we wrote down ideas about his appearance and qualities: a skilled musician, looks hot in leather, hairy chest and bushy hair. We then glued pictures of Kurt Cobain, Jon Bon Jovi and Michael Hutchence. Once we finished the board, we pinned it up in the kitchen and did a celebratory dance.
I wipe away a tear. ‘I hate you, curse. I hate you so much.’
Since Oliver moved in, Lenny has become… demanding. After watching the hustle and bustle of the street below, I rise from my chair and announce that it’s time for bed. Lenny looks up at me, opens his mouth and begins a protest meow that doesn’t end until I comply. I pick him up. Instantly, the meowing stops. He purrs loudly in my ear as I carry him to bed, like he’s royalty. I suspect Oliver is behind this, attempting to buy Lenny’s loyalty with extra cuddles. This is unsettling.
* * *
It’s two in the morning, and I can hear raised voices in the hallway. One of them belongs to a drunken Oliver, and the other to Jamie. They woke me up a few minutes ago after one of them slammed the door. I hope they will head to the living room, and I can go back to sleep.
BANG. THUD. CRASH. The sound of my hallway table hitting the floor is followed by something smashing into tiny pieces.
‘Ollie,’ cries Jamie. ‘Look what you’ve done.’
‘Mum’s vase,’ I gasp and shoot out of bed.
My heart is thudding away in my chest.
I can hear drunken groans.
‘Ollie, help me clear this up,’ urges Jamie.
‘They did this to me,’ slurs Oliver. ‘I will never forgive them.’
‘Mate, we’re not talking about them. You need to get a dustpan and brush.’
