‘Ooh!’ she exclaims, making me jump. ‘What’s that annoying eighties’ film you both love?’
‘There’s more than one,’ I say, wiping the red wine off my chin.
‘That one you both made me watch, and I hated it.’
This pretty much applies to every film we watched together as teenagers. Lauren tends to favour movies made after she was born, preferably starring Whitney Houston.
‘Do you remember who was in it?’
‘Nah. I just remember a scene where the guy had a big nose, and she was like,You have a massive nose and I love youor something.’
‘Roxanne,’ I inform her. ‘How can you hate that film? It’s hilarious. Steve Martin is—’
‘Fuck, it’s like drinking wine with Mark Kermode. Listen, you should do that.’
I frown. ‘Tell Ed he has a big nose? I mean, granted it’s not small but—’
‘No, tell him you love him for who he is. That you love him regardless. Unconditionally. Just like she loved big-nose guy.’
‘Charlie,’ I inform her. ‘His name was Charlie.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘And I do love him unconditionally!’ I insist. ‘I really do.’
‘Even with that hair?’
‘What’s wrong with his hair?’
‘Nothing,’ she replies. ‘Just wondering.’
‘Talking of hair, how did your date with Graham go?’
Since New Year, Lauren and Graham have been texting profusely.
‘Good,’ she replies. ‘Well, incredible, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as funny and sweet in my life.’
I cough.
‘Sorry, anyman,’ she clarifies. ‘But he’s just so different from the guys I normally date. They’re usually all Yeah! Football! Cars! Manly shit! And he’s like university-educated and has no sense of style and god, that beard is annoying but—’
‘You really like him, huh?’
She beams. ‘I really do.’
‘Then I’m happy for you,’ I reply. ‘He’s one of the good ones.’
She nods. ‘And so is Ed. . .’
Although the company (and the wine) was great tonight, I still can’t sleep. It doesn’t matter where I am, I still miss Ed. I miss hearing him breathe beside me or moaning that my feet are too cold before doing his best to warm them up. Lauren’s right. I do need to tell Ed I love him. Because if I were him, I’d be in doubt. I need to tell him that it’s not him I’m frustrated with, it’s me. It’s always been me.
When I graduated from law school, I was passionate about justice. About giving a voice to those who felt silenced. I wanted people to know that I was in their corner, that they could rely on me to fight on their behalf. I wanted to come home at night and feel that I’d made a difference, no matter how small. I thought that Icouldmake a difference at Parish Scott Taylor, but I was wrong. And not only wrong, but too proud and stubborn to face it. Maybe it’s time that I did.
Ed
‘I know I’ve been busy lately, but you should have let me know that you and Kate had actually split for good. Jesus, I thought it was just a wee lovers’ tiff! You didn’t seem that bad at New Year.’
Graham hands the barman a twenty-pound note as I take a sip from my first pint of the evening. ‘Why?’ I ask. ‘It’s not like you could have done anything.’
