by L.H. Cosway
Afric: Not joking. Rosie invited Billy and me back after the book club to thank us for coming.
Neil: My sister is too nice for her own good sometimes. You’d better behave.
Afric: Hey! I’ll have you know I’m on my best behaviour. Phil and I have really hit it off.
Neil: Dear lord …
Afric: Relax. I’ll be good as gold. I promise.
Neil: Why do I get the impression you’re smiling mischievously right now?
Afric: Probably because I’m already figuring out a subtle way to suggest we peruse your baby pictures?
Neil: I’m going to murder Rosie for this.
Grinning, I slid my phone into my pocket just as a plate heaped with steaming, delicious-smelling food appeared in front of me. Phil placed a large jug of gravy in the centre of the table before taking a seat next to Rosie.
“So, remind me, how did you and my Neil meet again?” she asked, directing her question at me. Something in her smile told me she already knew the answer to this. Perhaps she was fishing for extra details her grandson might’ve purposefully left out.
“His co-worker, Michaela, is one of my closest friends. We used to live together before she moved in with her boyfriend, James,” I explained. “I was meeting her for lunch one day, and Neil tagged along. Let’s just say, we didn’t hit it off right away. He wasn’t too fond of me that first time we met. I have a bad habit of teasing people who I find interesting.”
“If you grew up in our family, you’d know that teasing is practically an Olympic sport,” Billy put in.
“Obviously,” I went on. “It’s my fault that Neil was unimpressed with me that first time. Then our paths crossed again a few weeks later, and it went a little better. I think he realised I wasn’t as bad as he first thought. Anyway, we’ve been pals ever since.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you two found a way to get along,” Phil said. “I must admit I have seen a bit of a change in Neil since you two became friends. He can be somewhat uptight.”
“Grandma!” Rosie exclaimed. “That’s not fair. You know Neil feels responsible for taking care of us. It’s why he works so hard.”
“Yes, and I love him for that,” Phil agreed. “All I’m saying is that Neil has been acting like a thirty-year-old since he was only a boy. Lately, I’ve noticed him be a little less strict with himself, and I suspect it might be your doing, Afric.”
“Well, I’m not sure if it’s all down to me, but Neil’s been a good influence on me, too. He’s certainly taught me how to be more responsible, especially with my finances.”
“Oh, yes, he did mention something about assisting you with your accounts.”
“He’s an absolute whizz,” I said. “I’d have been lost without him.”
“Then I’m glad you both managed to make your friendship work,” Phil said. “I think we often avoid those who aren’t the same as us, but if we just gave those people a chance, we’d realise how inconsequential the differences are in comparison to how much they can improve our lives.”
“Here, here,” Billy said. “My life has certainly been improved by this gravy. What on earth do you put in it to make it taste so good?”
Phil tapped the side of her nose. “It’s a secret family recipe. I’m afraid I can’t reveal it. Though, you are welcome to come back for dinner any time. Rosie and I love having guests. It’s always just the two of us when Neil travels for work.”
“Doesn’t he have his own flat in the city, though?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, he does, but he comes here most evenings for dinner. He doesn’t like eating alone.”
Right. I remembered him mentioning something about that. “Well, I can’t blame him. Your cooking is delicious.”
“At my age, I’ve certainly had time to perfect it,” Phil said.
“Very true,” I replied. “A woman in her, what, late-forties could definitely gain the experience to be an excellent cook.”
Phil gave a hoot of laughter as she nudged Rosie. “She’s a charmer, this one. I can see why Neil is so fond.”
Her statement ignited a warm glow inside me. It started as a tiny flicker but quickly spread to encapsulate my entire body. Neil often acted like he reluctantly put up with my friendship, but he’d obviously spoken highly of me to his grandma if she thought he was fond of me.
While Billy, Rosie, and Phil chatted about how the book club had gone, I pulled out my phone again and found another text from Neil.
Neil: What’s happening? You haven’t said anything weird to my grandmother, have you?
Afric: Would you stop. Phil loves me already. She said I was a charmer.
Neil: She’s obviously getting on in years and losing her sense of proper judgement.
Afric: The cheek! The insolence! The gall! Your grandma’s judgement is perfectly fine. I am incredibly charming. She also mentioned understanding why YOU are so fond of ME. I’m feeling rather touched, to be honest.
Neil: Again, her judgement is declining. Poor woman. She’s clearly mistaking reluctant friendship for fondness.
Afric: If you don’t admit you’re fond of me right this moment I’m going to show these texts to Phil.
Neil: FINE! I’m fond of you. Now shut up about it.
Afric: Don’t be so embarrassed. I’m fond of you, too … Kind of how a person gets fond of the mangey dog that follows them around every day :-P
Neil: Funny.
Afric: Phil’s cooking is amazing, btw. She’s also given Billy and me an open invitation to come for dinner anytime, so get ready for me gate-crashing your nightly dinners when you get back from New York.
Neil: You will not. I’ll barricade the door … out of curiosity, what did she cook today?
Afric: Chicken, homemade gravy, roast potatoes, carrots, and green beans. I’m happily stuffed to the gills.
Neil: God, I’m jealous. I’ve been getting really sick of room service and eating out.
Afric: Aw, poor baby, having to tolerate living in a five-star hotel with freshly prepared meals just a phone call away.
Neil: Piss off. You know what I meant.
***
I didn’t manage to bring up the topic of Neil’s baby pictures that evening, but I had every intention of doing it next time. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know Phil and Rosie, and it was surprising because I wasn’t always such a sociable person. In fact, I often went through phases of barely leaving my flat, especially if I was deep into a gaming marathon.
I’d sit by my computer morning, noon and night, ordering in food and constantly streaming to my growing audience of fans. By no means was I someone who made a ton of money from streaming, but I made a liveable wage, which was enough to pay for rent, groceries, and utility bills, plus a little extra.
The little extra usually went towards my penchant for buying expensive clothes. Whenever I got a big payout, I went on an online shopping spree from my favourite designers. I was particularly fond of oversized, boldly coloured jumpers paired with equally boldly coloured leggings that cost an arm and a leg.
My favourite items, though, were what I called the “Emperor’s New Clothes” pieces. I loved it when designers created clothing that looked kind of ridiculous, but because it came from a lauded brand, everyone acted like it looked amazing. There was a dissonance that appealed to me, an ugly/beautiful aspect to those items that always drew me to buy them. Neil had been scolding me for said purchases while he’d worked on my accounts, but I couldn’t help it. They brought me joy.
Speaking of Neil, over the course of several weeks, our friendship fell into a regular pattern of nightly video calls. We’d finished several great period dramas together, and I was constantly on the lookout for new ones I thought we’d both enjoy. I loved how much of a romantic he was and sometimes suspected he enjoyed the intimate parts of the shows even more than I did.
Intermingled with the nightly calls were daily text messages where we chatted about all manner of subjects. If a random thought crossed my mind, I always
knew I could text Neil about it. And okay, often, these random thoughts annoyed him, which was an activity that entertained me immensely.
Afric: I have a question.
Neil: Okay.
Afric: wHY iS iT iNfiniteLy mOre dIsturBing wHen yOu caPitalise rAndom lEtterS iN a sEnteCe?
Neil: Not sure. It just is. Thanks for that. Now I’m creeped out.
Afric: MayBe the rAnDom caPitalisaTion inDicaTes a PsyChoTic staTe of miNd?
Neil: Will you please stop? I feel like I’m texting a serial killer.
Afric: buT sCarinG yOu iS sO mUcH fUn.
Neil: STOP. IT.
Afric: SorRy caNt. oOh lOok, a sHinY kNife …
Neil: Seriously. Stop.
Afric: Muah ha! Okay, sorry for scaring you. Normal Afric is back. Hello.
Neil: Thank heavens.
Afric: oR iS sHe??
Neil: Afric!
***
Afric: Tell me something no one knows about you.
Neil: Why?
Afric: Because I find your secrets fascinating.
Neil: I don’t have secrets. Aside from the one you already know about.
Afric: There must be something. Here’s one of mine: I once fashioned myself an adult nappy out of household items so that I could keep gaming without needing to stop for bathroom breaks. I was trying to break a world record.
Neil: That is … incredibly odd and disturbing. A little gross, too.
Afric: I know. Technically it’s not a complete secret because Sarita and Michaela found out.
Neil: Seriously, Afric, that’s not normal behaviour.
Afric: What about me ever gave you the impression I was normal?
Neil: Okay, I stand corrected. Did you break the record?
Afric: Sadly, no. Some teenager in the Philippines pipped me to the post. Luckily, I’m not obsessed with any games right now, so I haven’t felt the urge to do anything extreme lately. It’s only when I’m obsessed and don’t want to stop that I do crazy things like that. I’ve actually been working on being more moderate with my gameplay. I feel much healthier for it.
Neil: I’m glad to hear it.
Afric: Soooo … have you thought of a secret yet?
Neil: No.
Afric: Oh, come on. There must be something.
Neil: There’s nothing you’ll find interesting.
Afric: I find everything about you interesting.
Neil: Why?
Afric: I’m not sure. Probably because you’re my opposite. Isn’t there something in science about opposites attracting?
Neil: That’s about magnets, not people.
Afric: Either way, it’s true about us.
Neil: We’re not as opposite as you think.
Afric: No?
Neil: No. We both seem to enjoy period dramas.
Afric: I’m not sure that one similarity makes us alike.
Neil: It still shows that we’re not complete opposites.
Afric: Oh, my God, tell me a secret right now before I die of frustration!
Neil: Okay, let me think. Far be it from me to leave you frustrated.
Afric: Neil Durant, are you flirting?
Neil: Absolutely not.
Afric: Liar.
Afric: Anything?
Neil: How’s this? Sometimes I browse homes on estate agent websites and imagine myself living there with a wife and kids. Like fantasy house hunting for my fantasy family.
Afric: I think I might cry. That is adorable.
Neil: I am not adorable. Take that back.
Afric: Sorry, I can’t. You’re a fucking adorable man, Neil. It’s a simple fact.
Neil: Um. . .thanks, I guess.
Afric: You’re so awkward with compliments. I love it.
Neil: And you’re annoying.
Afric: So, when you picture your wife, does she look like Annabelle or …
Neil: I told you I didn’t want to discuss her until I get back.
Afric: Okay! Don’t bite my head off. I was just wondering.
***
Afric: I have a new pet peeve.
Neil: Oh?
Afric: You know when someone gets castrated in a TV show?
Neil: Happy to report I don’t watch those types of shows.
Afric: It usually happens in horrors and thrillers.
Neil: Can I remind you there’s a time difference between us, and I just woke up. Please don’t put me off my breakfast.
Afric: In that case, I’ll apologise in advance because I have to get this out.
Neil: Don’t.
Afric: So, anyway, a character gets castrated by some psychopath, then skip to the next scene, and someone’s either cooking a sausage or eating a sausage or slicing a sausage in half. I hate it. I hate it so much.
Neil: Great. Now I won’t be eating anything until lunch. Definitely won’t be touching sausage for a while.
Afric: I’m sorry, but someone had to hear my complaint. I’ll buy you the fanciest breakfast in town when you get back to London.
Neil: I’ll hold you to that … Now you have me thinking about my own TV pet peeves.
Afric: Do tell.
Neil: I hate it when a character wakes up in hospital and pulls out their IV. It makes me feel physically ill.
Afric: Oh, I hate that, too! I feel weak when I see it.
Neil: I also hate it when two characters are so desperate to have sex that they push everything off the table and onto the floor. Makes my skin crawl.
Afric: I could just imagine you losing your stiffy right away if a woman did that. You’d stop everything and get down on the floor to pick all the stuff up and put it back in its rightful place.
Neil: You’re 100% correct. I would do exactly that.
Afric: I know you too well.
Neil: I better go. Duty calls.
Afric: Don’t forget to message me later!
***
Neil: Okay, so that movie last night definitely wasn’t a romance. What was the title again?
Afric: Quills. And I know, okay? I was duped by a top 100 list.
Neil: How could anyone categorise a film about the Marquis de Sade as a romance anyway?
Afric: Agreed. Whoever made that list needs their head checked. I’ll be haunted by images of Geoffrey Rush’s bare backside for weeks.
Neil: Weeks? It’ll take me years to get over it.
Afric: LOL. Disturbing scenes and lack of romance aside, you have to admit it was a good movie, though.
Neil: It was decent, but I insist on choosing the next one. It might be a while before I can trust you again.
Afric: Understandable.
***
Afric: Billy’s gone home, and now I’m lonely.
Neil: I’m sorry.
Afric: I wanted him to move here, but he says he has too much going on in Dublin.
Neil: Do you miss your family a lot?
Afric: Yes and no. I love them, but growing up in a house with so many people was claustrophobic at times. I need my own space nowadays. I do enjoy going to visit them, though.
Neil: I feel the same way. I love my grandma and Rosie, and I like seeing them most days, but I don’t think I could live with them, not at this age anyway. My flat is my sanctuary.
Afric: Speaking of your flat, you need to invite me over when you get back.
Neil: Invite you over for what?
Afric: To watch period dramas together. Our nightly ritual still needs to be maintained.
Neil: Yes, but we don’t have to stop doing it via video call.
Afric: Are you afraid to watch romances with me in person, Neil? Will you be overcome by the sexy scenes and try to ravish me out of sheer horniness?
Neil: Aside from Quills (which I’m still not sure I’ve forgiven you for), nothing we’ve watched has contained graphic scenes. And no, I won’t be overcome. There’s this thing called self-control.
Afric: Well, I still want an invite to your flat. You’ve seen mine. It’s only fair that I get to see yours.<
br />
Neil: I’ll take it under consideration.
Afric: If you don’t invite me, I’ll turn up when you aren’t expecting me.
Neil: You don’t know my address.
Afric: I’ll wheedle it out of Michaela.
Neil: I won’t open the door.
Afric: You’d leave me out in the cold? :-(
Neil: For Christ’s sake. Fine. You can come over some night when I’m back.
Afric: Yes! I can’t WAIT.
Neil: Why do I feel like I’m already regretting this?
Afric: Don’t regret it. I’ll be a saint. I won’t even sneak a peek in your knicker drawer.
Neil: You’re the worst.
Afric: I’m the best, and you know it.
11.
Neil
It was my final night in New York. In the morning, we all flew home to London, and I couldn’t wait to sleep in my own bed again. I missed the familiarity of my flat, even though it could be a little lonely sometimes. Aside from eating meals alone, I mostly enjoyed living by myself, though. Sure, one day I wanted to have a big house and a family of my own, but for now, my flat was where I could relax and be myself.
At the very least, it was where all my stuff was.
I’d just finished yet another room service dinner when a video call came through on my laptop. After the craziness of the final day of shooting, I’d almost forgotten about my nightly ritual with Afric. Yes, it was an unusual arrangement, but I’d become attached to it. We seemed to be in almost constant contact these days.
No one could be more surprised by how much I’d ended up enjoying her friendship than me.
I enjoyed the random thoughts she messaged me about at all times of the day and night. And I enjoyed how much it amused her to tease me. Sometimes I had the urge to reply to her messages with something a little less stiff and uptight, but it was like we’d taken on these roles, with her being the provocateur and me being the irritable grouch who reacted.
I’d gotten so used to interacting with her virtually that I was slightly apprehensive about seeing her in person again. I feared it was going to be too intense. I’d developed a real affection for her during these weeks apart, and it was very different from how I’d felt about her before I left. I wasn’t sure how to handle the change.
Not to mention, there was Annabelle to deal with when I got back.
