‘Because it might not even work. We might get a flat no from the uni on partner hire. This,’ I gestured between us, ‘might be nothing. I don’t want to worry her until there’s something to actually worry about.’
Jonah didn’t say anything.
It was the exact same move he used in our lectures, when he asked a question and none of the students were brave enough to answer. I had a bad habit of cracking and filling in the gaps, but he wasn’t afraid to let a silence get uncomfortable, to guilt students into responding.
It was unsurprising, then, that I broke first. ‘Chess is going to hate this.’
‘Because she hates me.’
‘I might not have always been very flattering about you.’ That was putting itextremelyeuphemistically. ‘And then there was that incident with your dad when we won the University Medal.’
It was one of the few times in my life I’d been genuinely angry with Chess.What the fuck do you think you’re doing?I’d snarled at her when I’d finally managed to yank her away from Professor Fisher, my face tomato-red with embarrassment.Do you know who that man is? Do you know how powerful he is in our department? Fuck the five-year plan, I’ll probably have to wait for him to die if I want to do a PhD here now!
That’ll be soon, Chess had snarled back,because I’m going to kill him.
She bared her teeth.He called you an upstart overrated nobody and said that your marks had probably been elevated because it would look like nepotism if his son won alone.
I’d looked back over my shoulder. Jonah had his hand on his dad’s chest, holding him back, face as red as mine under his mortarboard.
And pure, unadulterated loathing had filled my heart, because now I was going to have to wonderfor-fucking-everif what Professor Fisher had said was true.
‘I really am sorry about that day,’ Jonah said, knee brushing against mine. ‘I know it was a decade ago, but in case I haven’t said it before… I’m so sorry.’
The main benefit of moving into the share house had been the gradual discovery of this man: Cardigan Jonah, Jonah the human, Jonah who was not simply the second coming of his shithead father. I was forever leading with my fists, and I could win an Olympic medal in grudge-holding, but even I had eventually ended up in the kitchen that night, telling him I didn’t want to fight anymore.
Chess, though, steadfastly refused to believe in the existence of Cardigan Jonah. For her, it was simple. There was only Tweed Jonah, the son of a Tweedier Jonah. Every humanising thing he did should be interpreted as some kind of trick, just another attempt to defeat me.
I might win a medal in grudge-holding, but Chess would win the gold.
Jonah let his head thud back against the wall. ‘I suppose the fact that I hate my dad too probably wouldn’t change your sister’s mind.’
‘Probably not.’
It definitely would not.That’s exactly what he wants you to believe, she’d hiss at me,so he can ride your coat-tails.
I was going to tell Chess about this wild, absurd marriage plot of mine. There was no way I could not tell her. I didn’t knowhowI was going to tell her, but I was going to tell her.
But there was no point in breaking my brain in half trying to figure out how I could possibly explain this to her until I knew it was something we could actuallydo.
Right?
The celebrant’s office was in Bondi Junction, and we stopped by the mall the next day before our meeting. ‘I think they’ll know we intend to get married by the fact we’ve filled out the forms,’ Jonah grumbled. ‘This doesn’t need to be a whole big charade.’
‘I’m not saying it does, Fisher,’ I replied, herding him along, ‘but we need to make ourselves at leastsomewhatbelievable as a couple.’
He made a sound somewhere between exasperation and resignation. ‘Sweetheart.’
I stopped in the middle of the mall walkway and stared at him.
‘What?’ he said. ‘I’m contributing! A real couple wouldn’t spit surnames at each other. They’d use pet names, wouldn’t they?’
‘Not that one,’ I replied. ‘That sounds like something you’d call a little girl.’
‘I’m assumingbaby’s off the table too, then.’
My mind completely refused to process the notion of Jonah Fisher calling mebaby.
‘Honey,’ he tried, as we started walking again.
