How To Lose Weight And Alienate People. Ollie Quain

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ at her as I sit down. ‘And you can forget about me wearing anything ten swatches in front of or behind “dusky peach” in the fabric sample flip book.’

      She bursts out laughing and idly picks up the pepper grinder from where it is still lying on its side from, er, last night. I watch Monday as he finishes his meal, licks his whiskers, does a few feline press-ups and strolls out of the kitchen without thanking anyone. When I turn back to Adele she has stopped laughing. Her eyes have gone watery again.

      ‘Stop that.’ I tut at her. ‘You’re not allowed to cry today, or this week, or this month. You’ve shed enough tears over the years. In fact, I am going to lay down a non-negotiable rule now. You are not allowed to blub for your entire engagem—’

      ‘Stop! Stop being so lovely, Vivian. Look …’ She stares into her tea. ‘There’s something else that I … I don’t know how to tell you. I’ve been dreading this moment so much.’ She stops to take a deep breath. ‘Okay, I’m going to come straight out with it. God. Oh God. Oh God …’

      ‘Oh God, what?’

      Another deep breath. ‘The thing is, I … well, we … as, in James and I … we’ve had a lot to talk about since he …’ She flashes her ring hand at me. ‘And moving forward, we’ve decided to use his place as our base whilst we look for a, er, forever home. Or, at least what I hope will be our forever home … as long as I don’t make a total mess of this relationship like I have done all the others … I mean, he could cheat on me or turn about to be a …’

      ‘Compulsive liar?’ I raise my eyebrows at her. ‘Christ, remember that one? The psycho you met in that wine bar who told you he was a professional polo coach, and then freaked out when you organised a date horse riding in Hyde Park. Now, what was he called?’

      ‘I never got to find out his real name, did I?’ she says, slightly boot-faced again at the mention of a previous amour. ‘But listen, about the flat …’

      I reach across the table to her. ‘It’s fine. I know what you’re going to say; I need to find someone to move in. Don’t worry, it won’t be too hard. Dane could be up for it. He mentioned the lease on his place is com—’

      ‘Vivian! Let me finish. Look, I’m sorry, so sorry … but you’re going to have to move out. I’m selling up.’

       ‘Selling?’

      She nods solemnly. ‘It’s time.’

      ‘When are you going to put it on the market?’ I really don’t like the way she is forced to take yet another deep breath as I ask this. This one is more of a desperate gulp for air.

      ‘When the work has been completed. To get the best price I need to install another bathroom so there is one for each bedroom. It’s what young professionals expect … so I’m getting a wet room installed.’

      ‘Where?’

      ‘Your clothes cupboard. I’ll be staying here to keep an eye on the builders, but you won’t be able to stay in your room with all the work going on.’

      ‘How long have I got?’

      ‘Three weeks.’

      ‘Three weeks? Christ, Dels, I’ve spent less time getting ready to go out on New Year’s Eve.’

      ‘Trust me, I feel awful about the timescale, but the builders who did such a good job of installing the kitchen here and doing my place over in the Docklands had a cancellation, so I wanted to book them in.’

      She pulls off her scarf and hangs her face in her hands. When she looks up, I can see a tear is about to slip over the edge of the lower lid under her right eye. I get up and put my arm round her, fully aware that she needs to remember this day as the one she threw her happy news out to the world … not the one I threw Himalayan tea over her.

      ‘Dels! Remember the rule. No tears.’

      ‘I feel dreadful for doing this to you.’

      I squeeze her tighter. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m extremely resilient. And besides, being made homeless is not the worst thing that can happen to a girl at thirty-four years and three hundred and sixty-four days old.’

      She wipes her nose. ‘It isn’t?’

      ‘Nah …’

      ‘W-what is?’

      ‘Being made a fucking bridesmaid.’

       ‘Vivian!’

       CHAPTER TEN

      When Luke realises who has buzzed the bell, he flings open the door, picks me up, swings me round, then snogs me for more than a minute.

      I untangle myself from his arms. ‘I see you haven’t got round to reading that treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen manual I ordered for you.’ I bend down and pick up the squashy bag I have brought with me containing his laptop, magazines, cables and sweatshirt, as well as the grooming tools I will need in the morning. ‘Adele got back and was being narky about your stuff littering up the lounge so I thought I would bring some of it over.’

      ‘Ha!’ he laughs, straight at me. ‘I see someone else hasn’t got round to reading the manual I ordered for her on coming up with decent excuses to cover up for the fact that she really wants to spend time with me. Besides, I think we both know that if I was that into you, I would have got rid of these by now.’

      He points at the trousers he is wearing. They are my most hated item of all his clothes: knackered army-surplus combats that have a side pocket long and wide enough to hold a family-sized tube of Pringles. Today a red tube is peeking out. Paprika.

      ‘Yeah, but—’

      He interrupts me. ‘The “yeah” is all I need.’ With that he picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, leans down to grab the bag and carries me down the corridor. ‘So, how did the audition go?’

      ‘I won’t get the part,’ I say with absolute certainty.

      ‘You reckon? I’m sure you were m—’

      ‘Stop!’ I reach down and wallop him on his concrete-hard backside. ‘Don’t even try to make me feel better.’

      ‘Okay, okay. I’m saying nada.’

      He kicks open the kitchen door and plonks me down on the floor. The room is a tip. The sink is full of dirty crockery, the bin is overflowing with empty takeaway cartons, the floor is littered with cardboard pizza boxes and all the surfaces are covered in a thick film of biscuit crumbs. It’s like a Disneyland for real mice.

      ‘Christ, Luke …’

      He shakes his head at me. ‘Don’t give me grief. I try to keep it clean but you know what Wozza is like having his mates over the whole time to party. It’s like living within the eye of a storm. СКАЧАТЬ