“Did you meet both of them?”
“Yeah, Chris and…Marina?”
“Correct.”
“Yeah, Chris seems nice. I mean they’re both fine. Why are you asking?”
“Weird question, but what does Chris look like?” I ask.
Matt smiles. “Can’t wait to hear the explanation behind this. Er, maybe five-ten. I don’t know. He isn’t as tall as me—I know that.”
It’s my turn to smile now. “He isn’t as tall as you? Is that something you’re very aware of, your comparative height to other men?”
He laughs. “Yeah, I’m averyinsecure guy. Fragile masculinity. My understanding of the world isallheight-based. Oh, and strength-based, obviously.”
“Of course. What are we benching these days?” I joke.
“Eighty-five kilograms,” he whips back at me, then grins, eyebrows whipping up. “Impressed?”
It’s annoying that I am. I recall Ben making quite a song-and-dance about seventy-five kilograms.
“I’m impressed that you appear to have no conversational filter,” I answer instead.
“Butimpressed—then my work here is done,” he laughs, leaning back and making a show of eating a chunk of cheese.
I remember what it was I was asking him about. “Chris, at Number Fifteen: now I know he’s not astallas you but can you tell me what he actually looks like?”
Matt considers. “Dark hair, glasses, sort of intellectual, not in a pretentious way. Reliable-looking, maybe?”
“Ah. Okay, I see. Not blond?”
“Nope—why?”
“Marina and Chris.” I test their names in my mouth. “What’s their surname? Do you know?”
“Carmine,” he answers, without a pause. “I remember because it sounded cool. Well, cooler than Whitby. God, I really am quite competitive, aren’t I?” he notes, with mock surprise.
I laugh because he’s funny. “I’m not sure you’d be this honest if you were.”
“Is that your professional opinion?”
“As a DPhil in anthropology, yes. Yes, it is,” I say.
He looks at me like I’m tricking him. “Seriously, that’s your job? You’re an anthropologist?” he asks, genuinely surprised.
“God, no. I sold out, almost immediately. I only use my knowledge for evil,” I tell him. “I sell people things they don’t need. Shiny stuff. I work in branding.”
Workedin,I correct in my head.
Matt’s eyebrows rise again, and he gives a series of little nods. “Nice. Nice. Cool job. Branding. The dark arts. Very good. Very impressed.”
I feel my cheeks flush, and for the first time in our conversation, I am self-conscious.
I try to set us back on track. I need to know who that man was who shouted at Marina, and why.
“So, Chris and Marina Carmine, Number Fifteen. What else do we know about them?”
Matt snaps back to the topic. “Okay, let’s see. She’s in finance and he’s in…construction, in some way, works on corporate builds in Dubai and South Africa. This the kind of thing you’re after?”
