by Alison May
‘Make sure he takes good care of you, and if not, you send him to me.’
I giggle. It’s weird him being all protective, but sort of nice, sort of like I thought Trix would be. ‘I’m sure he’ll be the perfect gentleman. Claudio would never do anything to hurt anyone.’
Danny doesn’t reply. He gives a little nod and I feel the conversation is supposed to be over.
Chapter Nine
Claudio
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not my date.’
‘You don’t have dates.’
Ben doesn’t seem amused. ‘You’re already chucking me out of my own home. I’m not cooking for you as well.’
This is a potential problem. Homemade is very much the vibe I’m aiming for tonight. And that means Dad’s recipe tiramisu. Unfortunately the two times I’ve tried to make it I’ve ended up with sort of weird bitter tasting goo. Ben, on the other hand, has it down pat.
Tonight is my tried and tested first date. Now technically this is a second date, but I didn’t use this one on her to start with, so it’s fine to use it now. The plan goes like this. I pick Henrietta up at 7.30. She thinks we’re going out for dinner, which in a sense we are, but I haven’t told her where. Instead of taking her out though, I then whisk her back here. Ben has genuinely been chucked out for the evening, not to return this side of midnight. I make spaghetti carbonara – it has to be spaghetti; English girls just can’t do the fork twirling, which makes them go all giggly and makes me look masterful and cosmopolitan. The carbonara is Delia’s recipe, but I tell them it’s my mum’s, and I sound like a good dutiful boy which counteracts the slightly sleazy element in bringing them back to my place on a first date. In actual fact I don’t think our mother has ever prepared any meal more advanced than cheesy beans on toast, but Henri doesn’t know that.
The problem at the moment is with dessert, which Ben is refusing to make for me. At the moment he’s leaning on the kitchen table waiting for the kettle to boil and staring out of the window. I decide to try appealing to his better nature.
‘You’d be really helping me out.’
‘No.’
Better nature isn’t one of his more in-your-face qualities.
‘It won’t take long. I’ll go buy all the stuff. You just have to make it.’
‘No.’
I’m not getting anywhere here. And I’m not jeopardising this date because he’s being a twat. I really do want Henri to have a good time tonight. I spent so much time e-mailing her while I was in Italy, it feels like we’re already going out, but we’re not so tonight has to be perfect. And by perfect, I mean that she has to still be here in the morning. Nothing less will do. With all this in mind, I have actually cleaned the flat. Hold on. That’s an option.
‘You could do it as payback for me cleaning up.’
‘I never asked you to clean up.’
‘But I did, and you’re getting the benefit, so you could return the favour by making tiramisu.’
He looks at me, and for a moment I think he might cave. ‘No.’
Ah well, was worth a try. Anyway I have proper cleaned up. Well, fairly proper. The living room, bathroom and my bedroom are absolutely pristine. I just have to make sure she doesn’t have cause to go anywhere else. I’ve brought the plastic garden table inside, and put a tablecloth on it, and I’ve decorated the living room with fairy lights. It looks like some sort of magical grotto, if you squint and adopt a positive attitude. Henrietta is good at adopting a positive attitude.
Ben’s kettle boils. He’s grinning as he pours the water into a mug. It’s time to play my trump card. I give him one more chance.
‘You know you’re going to end up doing it.’
He shakes his head. ‘Really, no.’
He picks his mug up and heads back towards his room. I do feel bad about this, just not bad enough to stop me doing it.
I raise my voice towards his retreating back. ‘If you don’t do it I’ll tell The Parents you got arrested.’
He turns around. ‘I did not get arrested. I accepted a fixed penalty notice, and it was all Trix’s fault.’
I grin. ‘Right. Not arrested, of course. I’m sure they’ll totally understand the distinction.’
‘You are a complete bastard.’
I’m laughing now. ‘So you’ll do it?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Fine. I’ll call Mum, and then she’ll be round here within the hour,’ I pause. ‘Actually, she’ll probably be round Trix’s first, because they get on so well, don’t they? So that’ll be fine. And then she’ll come here.’
‘All right.’
I might as well make the most of the win. ‘Sorry, didn’t quite catch that?’
‘I’ll make your sodding pudding.’
I clap him on the back. ‘Thanks bro. You’re a star.’
‘But you’re not allowed to use that one over me again.’
I shrug. I’m not promising.
He heads back into the kitchen. ‘Off you go then. You said you’d buy the ingredients.’
‘Yeah. Any chance you could lend me a tenner?’
Chapter Ten
Henrietta
I follow Danny’s advice in the end and go for the dress. I mean last night being huddled up in my big coat and jumper was lovely, but Danny thought the dress and he seemed very sure about it. I put my make-up on and clean it off again about three times. I don’t really wear make-up very often, and every time I put it on I feel like I look like a clown, a clown who’s trying far too hard. So then I clean it all off again, and then I don’t look like I’ve made any effort at all. In the end I settle for tinted moisturiser, mascara and lip gloss, in an attempt at the natural look. I think it might actually be the worst of both worlds, but then Claudio rings the doorbell, so it’s too late to reconsider.
Claudio looks utterly beautiful. He’s wearing a suit, which is so lovely. Most men wear jeans for everything, but he looks elegant and incredibly sexy. He is handsome, Claudio. I know I’m biased but I see how other women look at him too. He’s tall and has olive skin and black hair and dark brown eyes. He really does look like my perfect romance novel hero.
And now I’ve just been standing looking at him for about two minutes, and I probably had my mouth open for most of that. Oh dear. I need to say something. ‘Is what I’m wearing OK? I didn’t know where we were going.’
He doesn’t answer straight away. He sort of half coughs and half swallows before he says anything. ‘It’s perfect. You look perfect.’
I look perfect! I mean, obviously I know I don’t look perfect really, but him saying it was kind. I run back inside and get my coat and handbag. He waits for me on the doorstep and we go out to his car. As we walk over to the car, his fingertips brush against my hand. I wish I was brave enough to just grab hold of it, or to just grab hold of him and kiss him right here, but I’m not sure if he’d like me being too forward, so I don’t.
Chapter Eleven
Ben
Turfed out of my own flat, so that Claudio can get laid. Hardly fair, especially as I cooked half the bloody meal, but I’m passing it forward, as they say. Claudio tells me I can’t eat in my own home; I tell Danny I’m eating at his. A problem shared, after all, is a problem two people have.
Danny’s a better cook than me, and, therefore, about a million times better than Claudio, so it’ll be a good change to be eating a meal that isn’t toast. I knock on Danny’s door. I hear voices inside and then footsteps in the hall.
Trix flings the door open.
‘Don’t you ever cook for yourself?’ I get the opening jibe in first. Attack is the best form of defence, and all that.
She shrugs. ‘Tried it once. It didn’t work out.’
‘No. I remember.’
She raises her eyebrows in a question.
‘You tried to roast a frozen chicken.’
She grins. ‘That wasn’t actually the time I was thinking of.’
‘The soufflés?’
‘They were fine.’
‘Only as paperweights.’
‘Well, paperweights are always useful.’
‘No. They’re not. Where are paperweights useful?’
She pauses. ‘If you’re setting up an office.’
‘A very windy office?’
‘Yeah. If you’re setting up an office on the deck of a ship.’
‘A ship office?’ I feel she’s grasping slightly.
‘Exactly.’
I’m still on the doorstep. ‘Am I actually allowed to come in?’
‘Did you bring wine?’
I hold up the bottle I brought with me.
‘Only one? What are you drinking?’
She takes the bottle off me and heads down the hallway towards the kitchen. I follow her.
Danny is in the kitchen wearing a blue and white striped apron and a chef’s hat. I don’t question the hat. I’ve learnt, over time, that with Danny it’s generally best not to ask too many questions about the outfits. It only leads to explanations, which usually start with something that happened to someone he met in a bar in 1997.
‘No John?’ I try to sound like I’m disappointed. I’m not sure I manage it.
Danny doesn’t look at me. ‘He’ll be back for dinner.’
‘Cool.’ Now I’m trying to sound like I’m not disappointed. See - I’ve got this social skills lark down.
‘What are you grinning at?’ Trix is staring at me.
‘I wasn’t.’
‘You were. You were smiling to yourself.’
So maybe, the social skills aren’t a hundred per cent yet. I’m working on it.
‘He does that.’ Danny’s standing by the hob stirring a pan of very red looking sauce. ‘If he’s really engrossed his lips move.’
Trix laughs. ‘I know. That means his brain’s still operating.’
‘I’m not going to be ganged up on.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on that.’ Danny holds out a wooden spoon of the red sauce towards me. ‘Taste.’
‘Whoa!’ I didn’t realise red was actually a flavour.
‘Too hot?’
‘No. No.’ I open a cupboard and find a glass to pour myself some wine. ‘Just thought I’d get a drink anyway.’
My eyes are starting to water. ‘What’s in that?’
‘Well it’s chilli, so chilli mainly. It’s not that bad.’ He holds the spoon out to Trix. ‘Your go.’
Trix takes a taste, and shrugs. ‘It’s fine.’
Danny grins. ‘Told you. Lightweight.’
I shake my head at Danny. ‘She has guts of steel. You can’t trust her. She burnt her taste buds out years ago.’
Trix holds her glass out to me for a top-up. ‘Well, if you can’t take the heat …’
‘I don’t mind a bit of heat. But that should have a licence from the International Atomic Energy Agency.’
‘It’s fine, Danny. He’s just being a big girl.’
‘Good. Good.’ Danny looks at me. ‘There’s sour cream. You can just mix that in if you can’t take it.’
‘I can take it.’
Trix smiles. ‘Sounds like a challenge.’
I resist the urge to square up to her. I suspect Danny would probably think it was amusing to call the old bill if we kicked off tonight.
‘When are we eating?’
‘When John gets back.’
‘Ok.’ I see Trix glance at the clock behind Danny. I wonder if she’s thinking the same as me. When John gets back can lead to a very long wait.
Henrietta
Claudio has made the room look so pretty. It’s all twinkly lights, and it smells of plug-in air freshener, which I think might be my favourite smell.
He takes my coat off me, like they do on dates in films, and he pours me a drink. It’s a bigger glass of wine than I’m really used to. He tells me to make myself comfortable while he does kitchen things. I do try really hard to be comfortable. I can’t be too comfortable though. If I don’t sit up straight my tummy will stick out, and if I slouch I’ll get a double chin. I decide sitting at the dining table would be better than the sofa, from a tummy-bulge point of view. The table looks lovely. There’s a real tablecloth, and he’s got chargers. I’ve got chargers at home. I think they’re brilliant. They go under the plates, instead of a placemat. Mine are silver, and I’ve got white plates, so you get a little silver rim peeking out around the plate. Trix says that they’re just big plastic plates, and she laughs at me when I tell her to get a proper plate and not eat off the charger. But that’s right. When they came they had little stickers on the bottom that said ‘Not for food,’ so she shouldn’t eat off them. She should keep them nice.
I can hear Claudio in the kitchen, moving around and banging pans. Does sitting at the dining table make it look like I’m waiting to be fed? I don’t want him to feel like I’m impatient. Maybe I should have gone for the sofa after all, or just stood up. I stand up, but standing up doesn’t look comfortable, does it? I should probably sit down. I try the arm of the settee but that’s really awkward, so I stand up again.
I’ve never been beyond the stairwell to Ben’s flat before. I’ve come with Danny and picked him up to go out before, but I’ve never been properly inside. It’s a first floor flat, but it’s got its own front door. Does that make it a maisonette, rather than a flat? Claudio and Ben both call it a flat. It’s very different to my flat though. Everything’s square and neat and fitting together. There aren’t any nooks or crannies. It must be really easy to clean. There are shelves on one wall of the living room, three rows of books, and one each of DVDs and PlayStation games.
I look at the books; most of them have titles I don’t understand. There’s a laptop in a bag under the bottom shelf. And so far as personal items go, that’s basically it. No ornaments, no postcards, no photographs. I wonder where all Claudio’s stuff is.
I realise I’m now standing up inspecting his brother’s possessions. If Claudio comes in now, he’ll think I’m nosey and definitely not relaxed. I’m going to have to have another go at the sofa. It’s leather and, by the looks of it, it saw its better days a long time ago. There is no way I’m going to be able to maintain a flattering level of tummy-pulled-in-ness sitting on that, and once I’m sitting on it, I’ll probably need Claudio to pull me up to get out of it again. Not ladylike at all. I lower myself down and perch right on the very edge of the seat. Then I decide I should probably practise getting up and down, so that I can do it gracefully when Claudio comes back in. That means that when he does come back in I’m sort of half leaning backwards, trying to hold my wine aloft and level with one hand whilst pushing myself up from the armrest with the other hand. Not ladylike, not relaxed and definitely not comfortable.
Trix
I like it at Danny’s house. There are always clean glasses, and you get real food without having to put grown-up clothes on and hand over money. It’s brilliant here.
‘So what happened last night?’ Danny is pouring himself a drink and looking from me to Ben and back again.
‘What do you mean?’ I know what he means.
‘You know what I mean.’ Well, yes.
‘I don’t.’ Ben is either severely short on memory or has picked denial as his getting nearly-arrested coping strategy.
Danny rolls his eyes. ‘Your run in with the fuzz.’
‘I already told you about it.’
‘Only the headlines. Come on. I need details. Let me enjoy the vicarious glow of dining with wanted criminals.’
‘We’re not wanted criminals.’ Sometimes it’s important to nip Danny’s more expansive flights of fantasy in the bud.
‘Speak for yourself. I am wanted across the globe for my daring criminal exploits.’ Ben does a weird little karate chop hand gesture, apparently designed to demonstrate his awesome fighting prowess.
Danny stares at him. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
Ben stops. ‘It was cooler in my head.’
/>
He shouldn’t be joking about this anyway. I turn to Danny.
‘The whole thing was his fault.’
‘Excellent. This is exactly what I’m looking for. Gossip, blame and recriminations.’
Danny sits on a stool opposite me, and reaches his hand across to mine. He arranges his face into an expression of faux concern. ‘It must have been very distressing. Now tell me all about it.’
‘Well, I was quietly and innocently eating my kebab, when this madman ...’ I gesture towards Ben, ‘… accosts me and starts shouting about slime mould.’
‘Slime mould?’ Danny sounds genuinely horrified.
Ben looks put out. ‘It’s interesting.’
I ignore him. ‘Slime mould. I was simply trying to enjoy a late supper …’
‘You were inhaling a kebab.’
‘… when I was yelled at, for absolutely no reason …’
‘There was a reason.’
This time I can’t ignore him. ‘What reason?’
Ben pauses. ‘I don’t remember, but ...’
‘But?’
‘But it was a really good reason.’
This is the moment again. The moment where it can go either way, and we’ll either end up laughing or yelling. I’m not going to rise to the bait. I’m not. I’m not going to say anything.
Danny stands up and stirs the sauce on the hob. He glances at the clock. ‘This is nearly ready.’
‘What time were you expecting John?’
Danny shrugs. ‘Said he’d be back for dinner.’
I don’t know what to say. If Danny sounded angry I could work with that. I’m good with anger. Even if he were properly upset that would be something to talk about. But he sounds resigned. Not fine. He doesn’t sound like he doesn’t mind. He sounds like he really does mind, but doesn’t have the energy to do anything about it.
Ben taps his fingers on the table.
I don’t know what to say. ‘We can wait.’
Ben nods. ‘Sure. He’ll probably be here soon.’
‘’Course he will.’ Danny smiles, and turns back towards us. ‘So what happened when the boys in blue turned up?’
