Here's Looking at You (12 page)

‘Ah,’ Grant said, clearly thinking:
invite me?

Anna felt bad for him and hated herself for being so weak that she felt bad for everyone, constantly, even when their level of sensitivity was ‘endangered rhino hide’.

The farewell outside involved Anna keeping a pointed distance. She didn’t see how Grant could possibly think this had gone well enough to warrant kissing, but then she didn’t understand a lot of things about Grant.

‘We should do this again,’ Grant said.

‘Erm …’

Anna stuck her hand out for Grant to shake. He obliged, slightly blank.

‘Thanks. I’ve had a lovely time. I think my dating odyssey continues though.’

‘Oh. Uh, OK …’ Grant smoothed his hair, ‘Is that a “I don’t want to see you again”?’

‘I don’t think we sparked,’ Anna said. The spark thing again. A word to cover a thousand sins.

‘What does that mean?’ Grant said.

‘The – rapport,’ Anna said, gesturing with a palm on her chest, then flapping at the air between them. ‘Between us.’

‘I thought conversation flowed!’

Conversation
. If you went to a lecture on climate change, did you come away thinking you’d had a great chat with Al Gore? Anna wrestled with kindness versus cruelty, and frustration and cheap red plonk edged her into ‘cruelty’.

‘You talked a lot more than I did.’ As she said it, she felt how sad and undignified this was, standing in the street, telling someone why they didn’t measure up as company.

‘You asked a lot of questions,’ Grant said, frowning.

‘I suppose I did,’ Anna said, wanting desperately to be gone now, hoping Michelle would ring with their location rather than text, and save her from this post mortem. ‘Sorry.’

There was no nice way to say, and no point in saying: we’re not on the same wavelength and never will be and the fact that you can’t see that proves the wavelength point beyond all doubt.

Her phone rang.

She loved Michelle anyway, but at that moment, she loved her more than sunshine, cake, or the orang-utan called Hercules that had slapped Grant on the forehead.

In the purple of the evening light, Anna made out Michelle, scuffing her feet on the street outside Gelupo, puffing on a smokeless e-cigarette that looked like a tampon holder.

‘Can’t you smoke those inside?’ Anna said, when she reached her.

‘Penny’s here,’ Michelle said, grimacing.

‘Ah.’

‘We’ve already had a barney. She made a big thing of giving a fiver to some guy sat in a doorway, then went on about how she doesn’t understand people who only give a quid and how she always gives them enough to get a hot square meal. I said “a hot square meal of HEROIN” and then it was
stereotyping the poor mweh mweh mweh.’
Michelle did the rodent-like meeping noise that she used to impersonate Penny. ‘I wouldn’t mind the sanctimony if she was some aid worker who stood a chance of being blown up, but it’ll be bloody Daniel’s fiver. Why are bleeding-heart hippies always the most selfish people you could meet?’

Anna laughed. She knew Michelle’s Penny rants well.

‘Don’t make me go back inside,’ Michelle laid her head on Anna’s shoulder.

‘How about the ice cream though?’

Michelle sagged.

‘Count the number of seconds it takes for her to say something rude or gloaty to you. Just count them.’

Inside Gelupo’s warmly lit, sailboat blue-and-white interior, Anna ordered chocolate and espresso granitas for herself and Michelle and felt guilty at Penny’s enthusiastic waving at her across the room. There were wafer cones the size of wizard hats on the counter but Anna opted for scoops in tubs, the calorie calculator in her never completely switched off.

‘How did the date go?’ Penny said, flicking her long straight hair out of her own pink ice cream, as they sat down. She had a moon-shaped face, a large fringe that seemed to start very far back on her head and a tinkly voice. Like Daniel, it made it seem as if the content couldn’t be harsh. But unlike Daniel, it could be.

‘Cataclysmic. So boring I felt as if I could bend space and time and see into the future.’

‘You’re so unlucky with your dates. I wonder why it is?’

Michelle checked her watch, in Anna’s eye line.

‘It’s not easy to find, somebody who is just your kind, to quote a song,’ Daniel said to her, drawing the back of a spoon out of his mouth.

‘Do you ever think you might be too choosy?’ Penny said, with her head cocked to one side.

Across the table, Michelle swiped a finger in the air to make an imaginary ‘one’ score.

‘Whenever you’ve been single for a while people always say that. I’m not sitting there being picky about near-misses, I promise you. More “a mile wide of the marks”,’ Anna said.

‘Yeah, plus it’s the sort of analysis only single people get. You’d never say to couples: “Do you think you weren’t choosy enough?”’ Michelle said, smiling broadly.

‘I mean, how much can you really tell from one date?’ Penny said. ‘Who did you meet tonight?’ she persisted.

‘Grant.’

‘OK. Maybe right now he’s thinking oh gosh darnit!’ Anna had forgotten Penny liked to use the language and mannerisms of a 1920s Southern Belle. ‘I sure wish I could have another date with that Anna, but I blew it.’

Penny did a click of the fingers with swinging hand motion.

Anna looked blank.

‘But maybe if you went on a second date, it’d be like, magic click!’ Penny said, clicking fingers on both hands, with a glittery laugh.

It was generally Michelle who lost patience with Penny, but tonight it was Anna’s turn.

‘I don’t have time left to date everyone who I don’t like twice, while looking for someone I do. And maybe that does mean I’ll miss Mr Right. Frankly there’s a good chance that if he ever existed, I missed him years ago. We were waiting side by side for the same late train in 2002 at King’s Cross and at the last minute he walked further up the platform and we never spoke. Now he’s in Kuala Lumpur up to his nuts in his new bride and I’m only looking for Mr Happens to Be Available at the Right Time. But I don’t see why that condemns me to waste nights of my life with Mr TripAdvisor to prove it’s not me being picky. Maybe it looks like a romantic adventure from the perspective of a relationship, but it’s a grind. A grind that makes you sad. You start off thinking “this could be the one” with every date and you soon realise it won’t ever be the one. You’re lucky to get “half decent” or “not a nutter”.’

‘Oooh! Calm down,’ Penny said, patting Anna’s arm, while Anna glowered at the table and tried not to bite her.

‘Fuckin’ well said,’ Michelle said. ‘Which is why I don’t date at all.’

‘I’m giving it a rest for a while,’ Anna agreed, glumly.

‘Be careful that you two don’t end up a pair of old grumpies! You’re like Marge’s sisters on
The Simpsons
!’ Penny giggled, while Anna and Michelle exchanged a look of disbelief. Self-styled ‘nice’ people were truly dangerous.

Daniel, polishing off the last of his ice cream, seemed oblivious to Penny’s misdemeanours.

‘If you don’t mind sharing,’ Daniel said. ‘I can go Mormon if you like, and save you all.’

Michelle did one of her ‘Nyaaah’ filthy laughs and peace was restored.

‘I have some more madness for you,’ Anna said. ‘Guess who was in my first British Museum meeting. Evil James Fraser from school who I saw at the reunion.’

‘What? The one who …?’ Michelle broke off, in deference to Anna not wanting it hauled over in front of Penny. ‘How come?’

‘He’s one of the digital people doing the app and whatever. Emphasis on the whatever.’

‘Does he know who you are now? Did he apologise?’

‘Don’t think so and no. I decided to go on the attack, and if he has a go at me I’ll get him moved off the project.’

Anna feared more questions from Penny about how it was possible that someone from school didn’t recognise her. She was grateful to Michelle possibly sussing this and saying, ‘And more identity surprises, remember the cock and balls flasher the other night? He came and introduced himself because he’s running a burger van opposite. Now, what’s the one thing you wouldn’t say he was?’

‘Shy?’ Daniel said.

‘Posh! He’s posh! “Guy”! Apologising for the flashing like he was Hugh Grant after the prostitute on the chat show.
We had taken drink … lot of high jinks … shenanigans
…
tomfoolery
.
Waffle coughle
.’

‘Nice of him to say sorry?’

‘I think he didn’t want me phoning the police and ruining his pop-up burger racket. They’ve called it “Meat Cute”. The burger is “Beefy The Hunger Slayer”. There’s not one menu item without massive smug as the main ingredient. I give it a month.’

‘I’ve tried one. Absolutely delish,’ Daniel said.

‘Dan! Can I have some bloody loyalty? My front of house giving money to the competition?’

‘We’ve got to check it out. And actually he gave it to me free.’

‘Oh marvellous, now we’re in debt to them.’

‘He asked a lot about you, actually.’

‘I bet he did. Why not just show him our books, eh? Next time you put that traitorous meat in your mouth, remember Guy’s soft danglies squashed against my window and have some respect.’

‘If I ever put his danglies in my mouth, do I have to think of his burgers?’ Daniel said.

Michelle guffawed and Penny squealed.

Anna laughed and scraped out the rest of her ice cream. When it came to dating’s sour moments, what would she do without her friends to take the taste away? Even if Penny came as an unwanted side dish.

‘Are you two coming to my gig?’ Penny said, frowning. ‘You know The Unsaids are playing?’

Penny phrased this not as if it was the first mention, but as if a) the offer of the gig had already been made and accepted and b) Anna and Michelle were now letting her down with a refusal. Classic Penny.

‘I probably have things to do in the restaurant,’ Michelle said, finishing her ice cream.

‘Oh no, I made sure it was when the restaurant’s closed so Dan can come. Anna, will you be free?’

Anna opened her mouth.

‘I can confirm she will be,’ Michelle cut in.

‘Hate to say it, mate, but I’m not remotely surprised,’ Laurence said, not sounding like he was hating it at all.

‘Why?’ said James, not wanting to ask.

They fell briefly silent as the waitress set two tumblers down in front of them, cracking the ring pulls on Dixie beer and pouring two inches into the bottom of each glass.

‘I’ll be back in a moment to see what you guys fancy eating,’ she said. ‘The Red Rice is real good.’

‘Real good?’ James said, when she’d left. ‘If London likes America so much, why doesn’t it go live there?’

Laurence and James had a routine of meeting once a week for dinner out. The rule was that they never went to the same place twice, with the exception of Tayyabs, which was mandatory with a hangover.

Laurence usually chose the venue and this time it was somewhere serving authentic New Orleans po-boys. With authentic Louisiana beverages. In Soho. The main thing was, it was one of the currently talked-about places, and now they could talk about it.

Laurence tipped the liquid in the glass, sniffed it gingerly.

‘It was this or root beer, which tastes like dentist’s mouthwash,’ Laurence said, sipping. ‘Cheers. I’m not surprised Eva’s seeing someone else, because there’s always someone else. Very few people can be bothered to walk out on a solid thing for nothing. A Laurence Law of Life. She wasn’t doing it for the love of the view from her friend Sara’s spare room, was she?’

‘Why didn’t you say so?’

‘Sorry you’re cut up your wife’s left you, I bet there’s a wanger involved? That’d have gone well.’

‘Hmmm,’ James studied the mains. ‘
Fully dressed with all the fixins
. God don’t you hate it when menus talk folksy to you. There best not be any mention of Tommy K sauce.’

The waitress returned and they ordered giant sandwiches with gravy. Despite the dazzling array of proteins that could be stuffed inside these bready behemoths, James had a strong suspicion they all tasted alike by the time they were ‘fully dressed’ with all the ‘fixins’. Fully dressed. He thought of Eva in that drawing, and his appetite waned.

‘What I can’t get over is how cold it was to leave me to find that picture. Imagine it, Loz.’

‘I wouldn’t have to imagine it if you’d had the presence of mind to take a phone snap,’ he said, and James laughed, hollowly.

‘Having to see that, and think of the lovebirds sketching, like that scene in
Titanic
. Only one notch down from finding sexting photos. And he draws like a five-year-old child …’

James shook his head, as if Finn’s artistic talent was the worst of it.

‘He virtually is a child. Twenty-three. Sheesh,’ Laurence said. ‘I dated a twenty-four-year-old last year. Her favourite music was “skronk”. She’d never heard of John Major. I said, who do you think was running the country between Margaret Thatcher and Tony Blair? She said “Was it Michael Parkinson?” I knew then it was over. Shame, because in the sack we were like a pair of drowning cats.’

James squinted. ‘Ah now I feel better. Cheers mate!’

‘Oh yeah. Sorry. You said they’re not doing it though?’

‘Supposedly.’

Once again James was forced to contemplate what this boy had done with his wife – or rather, was plotting to do to his wife.
Weren’t sleeping together
. Exactly how narrow a definition was that, these days?

It was so incredibly cruel of Eva to let him find out like that. When was she going to tell him? Aside from Loz, James wouldn’t be sharing this with any of his friends and family, if he could help it. He didn’t want them to think badly of Eva. This was the thing about relationships; someone could fire you, and you’d still do their PR.

By this point, James had lost his appetite altogether.

And right on cue, their po-boys arrived, sliced in half and surrounded by not-needed deep-fried extras. The waitress performed the ceremony of ladling gravy over the top of each, departing with: ‘Tuck in, guys!’

‘Look. The age thing. The fact this Finn’s a minor means he is minor. It’s good news.’