by Robert Young
I've wandered around for a short while, window shopping and idly browsing things I neither need nor can afford but I'm too distracted by what I've just done and the look in Mel's eye (or the several different ones) and the way she simply turned and walked just when I thought that she might beg. Her gracious and magnanimous exit has pulled a small thread that I keep tugging at and can't let go; have I made a huge mistake?
'You're worried whether you might have just made a big fat fuck up aren't you?' Luke sensitively articulates my fears as only a close friend can, having listened to me give him a brief version of events down the phone line.
'Mmm,' I reply which neither confirms nor denies his suspicion. Which confirms it. 'Maybe I just misjudged her a little bit...'
Luke has been a very good friend of mine for several years and I value his opinion greatly. 'Fuck right off out of it son. You know you've done the right thing. Luke twenty four seven; never trust a woman who snores loudly but doesn't smoke and who removes her eyebrows and then draws them back on again.'
I ought to explain the 'Luke twenty four seven' thing. Luke developed a fondness for spouting cod-advice snippets by way of mocking his self-important boss, a man whose surname was Law and who would make grand statements about life and work whilst prefixing them with the words 'Rule of Law'. He did this, according to Luke, entirely free of any irony. Once Luke had done it for a few weeks he took to dispensing random advice in this fashion. He'd started out using different numbers as if it were chapter and verse from a Gospel of the New Testament but then stuck to twenty four seven when he asserted one night that everyone should heed the word from the Book of Luke at all times. Invariably however, I'd found that a true word was very often spoken in jest in Luke's case and he was often at his most profound and serious when attempting to be hilarious. Conversely, attempts to be profound and serious were often likely to make me piss myself laughing.
He was often exceedingly direct too, hence his response to my quandary with heavy reliance on cursing.
'Fair point,' I concede, not because I've been cowed by his aggressive line of argument but because he has a fair point to concede. There were many little oddities and habits that I'd increasingly noticed about Mel and had also noticed that they had begun to irritate me. Also, she did pluck her eyebrows and then draw them back on. I find that utterly chilling.
On the other end of the line I can sense Luke gearing up to giving me a good talking to so that I see sense and stop doubting the wisdom of my actions, actions which I know him to find very wise indeed, so I step in before he opens the gates. 'You know what chap? You are totally right. Not just the eyebrow thing or the snoring either. I have made the right decision,' I say emphatically and I hear him relax again.
'Now I'm going to make another good decision and feed my face. I think I've earned a hearty meal,' I tell him and I spin on my heel and head for my favourite noodle bar, already mentally scanning the menu I know so well and deciding on what to gorge myself.
'Good man. Once you've finished, call me. You're single again and I'm your concerned and attentive mate. Drinking heavily is on the agenda tonight I believe?'
'Rally the troops, we have an excuse.'
Chapter 7
