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“You presumed I was gay,” I say.
She nods slowly, a little grimace accompanying it. “That or maybe bi. You dress so smart, and you’re so well-kept and groomed.”
“Just a wee bit stereotypical there, not to mention way off the mark.”
“Okay, not very PC, I’ll agree. God, you must think I’m such an idiot.” She places her head in her hands, and I want to put my arm around her, but I don’t.
“Not at all. I didn’t even think that day when I said Paul had kept me awake. And I suppose it was an easy mistake to make, but I can tell you that I’m straight.”
“I’m still a complete idiot. I’m so sorry.” She looks down at her feet, and I hate it.
“You’re not an idiot, Alice. Please don’t say that.”
“But I am. Not only have I got us both into this stupid mess of Operation Wedding, but now I’ve made you a homosexual with an ageing partner who’s been banned from the shops in Meridian Square for peeing on the floor and shoplifting. What is wrong with me?”
I can’t help but laugh. What is wrong with her? I’ve never known anyone quite like Alice. How does she get herself into these scrapes? Which brings me back to why I wanted to talk to her today in the first place.
Resuming my serious self, I say, “Alice, I need to ask you something.”
“Oh God. Are you sure? I can’t guarantee what will come out of my mouth. I have this habit of random things flying out of nowhere.” Her hands twist in her lap, and I can feel how uncomfortable she is and how she’s probably lost in her own head now, creating a thousand ridiculous reasons why I might want to talk to her, with none of them being anywhere near the mark.
“Alice, please listen,” I say calmly.
She sits up and squashes her hands between her knees as if to still them.
“I just want to know if you’re telling me the truth about Operation Wedding,” I continue as sternly but as softly as I can.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you really just invent a boyfriend for the sake of your old friend and then happen to say my name, or is this one of your set-ups?”
“Set-ups? You’ve lost me.” She shakes her head.
“You told me you were great at lying. You told me you used to invent scenarios and stories so you could meet guys and hook up with them. I just need to know that isn’t what’s going on here and that what you’ve told me is the truth,” I explain.
“Oh God.” Alice exhales, her shoulders dropping. “You think I invented this to get a date with you?”
I hold her stare.
“Owen, up until about four seconds ago, I thought you were gay and in a loving relationship with Paul, so why would I try to invent a reason to ask you out on a date?”
“Ah.” I dip my head and bite my lip, something settling inside me. I should feel relieved. I do feel relieved. Alice is who I thought she was. She hasn’t deceived or manipulated me in any way, and I should never have doubted her. “Now who’s the one who looks stupid?”
“You absolutely do not and are not stupid,” she argues.
“I’m sorry for doubting you,” I tell her. “But the only other thing that doesn’t sit right is why you would lie to one of your oldest friends. I’m not great at lying, as I told you before, and I don’t care about fooling a bunch of people we don’t know about a fake relationship, but why would you want to fool your friend? That’s the bit I can’t grasp.”
Alice looks at the floor and picks at her nails before looking back up at me.
“Do you have a best friend, besides Paul?” she asks, and I can’t help but love the fact that she recognises that my dog is my best friend, because he is.
“I do,” I answer, thinking about Smithy and all the years I’ve had the honour of calling him my friend.
“Do you want them to be happy?”
Before I leap in with the obvious answer of “Of course I do,” I think about Smithy and his little family, how happy he is with Romana, and how, in turn, this makes me happy.
“I do,” I confirm.