I laughed, probably a bit too loud, but I was officially three drinks in and feeling very merry.
“That’s amazing,” I said. “How long did it take Cara’s parents to figure out that you were living here?”
“More than a year,” she whispered, almost conspiratorially. “They retired to the French Riviera when they were like forty-five. They’re pretty rich.”
I was becoming very aware of how close Morgan was sat to me, our shoulders just an inch or two from one another. We had slouched down so that our heads were leaning back against the seat of the sofa, the cushions pulled down and stuffed under our backs, the coffee table pushed out with our feet. We were almost lying down.
She seemed to be a bit tipsy, too, and an image flashed into my mind of her on the bank holiday trip, drunk enough to come in for a hug after learning about Aria. I felt my breathing go shallow again, but I reminded myself,Just one step at a time. I’d been repeating it to myself every time I got a bit flustered – like when it got too hot in the kitchen and Morgan stripped out of her t-shirt into just her sports bra, which is how she was still dressed next to me – and so far I’d been able to keep the anxiety at bay. I pulled in a deep breath and held it, willing myself to calm the fuck down. It was harder this time than it had been before, but I managed it.
“It’s incredible,” she said, “how much of my life was defined by that friendship.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I didn’t try very hard to make other friends because I’d finally found my best friend. I didn’t try for design jobs after uni because it would have meant moving away, and I didn’t think I would find another friend like her. And when Cara joked that I was the square one, the cautious one, I sort of took on that persona, even though I don’t think it was particularly true when we first met. I just liked finally fitting together with someone.”
“I get that,” I said. “It’s nice to feel like you understand your place in the world.” I adjusted the cushions beneath my back, and inadvertently ended up a smidge closer to Morgan, which I didn’t mind. I braced myself for the anxiety to kick in, but it didn’t.
“Yeah, I knew you’d get it,” she said, which made me smile. I liked being the person who “got” her. She turned her head to face me, and I did the same. “I just sometimes wish I’d made different decisions. Like, I love the design work I’ve been doing so much. And now I’m even getting to do some at work. Did I tell you that already?”
I shook my head. “No, what for?”
“For this big gala. All the design budget was blown, but I came up with an idea to do illustrations of all the animals on the signs and stationery and stuff.”
“That’s brilliant,” I said, grinning wide. “Can I see?”
She sat up to reach for her tablet, which was in a bag at the end of the sofa. I mourned the sudden lack of proximity, but when she sat back down cross-legged, was I making things up, or did she end up a couple of inches closer to me?
She tapped a few times on the tablet and handed it to me, and I sat up to take it. My suspicion that she’d closed some of the distance between us was confirmed when my knee knocked against hers, and I had to turn slightly towards her to sit up.
I looked at what she’d pulled up on the screen: a large file with dozens of drawings of dogs and cats and – wait, were those otters? Did her rescue do otters? I’d have to find out later. These drawings were incredible. They were cute, but they were also beautifully done. She’d used a layered watercolour effect that made them look like they might jump straight off the page.
“I love these,” I said, my voice low. “Where are they being used?”
“All over the place,” she said. “It’s kind of driving the concept now.”
“That’s amazing,” I said, scrolling to see more. Instead of more animals though, I found the logo she’d been working on for the gaming shop. It was an anvil, just like she’d said last weekend, and I knew I was biased since I knew about the project, but I was sure I would have known immediately what kind of business it was for. “Are these final?”
“I think so,” she said, taking the tablet back and looking down at the logo. I hoped she could see how great it was. How talented she was.
“Do you know how talented you are?” I asked, surprised that the thought had made it through my mental filter. Morgan looked at me like I’d just suggested she had Martian lineage.
“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “It’s literally the first logo I’ve ever made.”
“Exactly,” I said. “And it’s amazing. Better than most logos for small businesses that I see. You’re really, really good. The fact that this isn’t your job is fucking wild to me.”
She looked at me sceptically for a moment, her eyes locked on mine, and I could tell she was internally debating whether to accept the compliment or laugh it off.
“You really think it’s good?” she asked, and I could tell she was hanging a lot on my answer. Luckily it was the answer she was hoping for, and it was the truth.
“Yes,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and I could tell it meant a lot to her. But she looked away and turned off the tablet, chucking it back across to the end of the sofa.
It took her a moment longer than it should have to turn back around, and when she did, she fixed me with an intense gaze. She was facing me fully now, her legs crossed like mine were, her knees resting on mine, her feet grazing mine.
“Hey, Jack?” she asked, and I could tell her question was going to be a big one. I felt the weight start to form a bit, but I managed to suppress it, or at least to stop it from growing, by reminding myself to take it one step at a time. A question was just one step.
“Yeah?” I asked, as light-hearted as I could, but I felt my voice wobble as I said her name.
