Page 16 of Sunshine Boy

Rahul’s suspicion deepened. Since when did Aisling care about how he was? She didn’t just look different. She was different. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Selling records, fighting crime, blinding unsuspecting passersby with my extraordinary synth-keyboard skills.”

Then Aisling did the most alien thing of all. She laughed. At Rahul’s joke. “I’d forgotten that classic Rahul sense of humour.”

“How have you been, Aisling?” Rahul asked, feeling increasingly more worried. He was beginning to suspect this was some sort of body-swapping situation.

“I’ve been good. Surprisingly. I’ve been really good, actually.” She did look a little surprised about it, in fact. But in a glad sort of way. If Rahul had to put it into one word it would be “delighted.”

“Yeah, you -- ah, you look it. You’ve got a sort of glow… around your facial region.”

Another musical laugh. She was quite pretty when she laughed. He wondered why she’d never done it much before. “I’ll take that as your way of saying I look nice. Well, thank you. You look quite nice, yourself. You look more…” She tilted her head to the side as she studied him. “Confident. Taller. You’re standing straighter, I think.”

Rahul snorted at the irony. He got gayer, yet his posture was straighter.

“How long have you been working here, then? I’d thought you were a receptionist or something.”

“A temp-worker, actually. And not long. Quit my job after I broke up with Julian. Decided to do something I really wanted to do for a change.”

“That’s… yeah. That’s good. Good for you. Empowerment and… the like.”

“Did you want to buy anything or did you just come in to spy on me?”

Rahul gaped but she was wearing a sly smirk, so she clearly wasn’t offended.

He was about to hastily explain how he’d seen her from the street and wanted to stop by and say hi -- and it most definitely was not spying -- when he paused to really give it some thought. Did he want to buy anything? Flowers were for romantic partners and mums on Mother’s Day. It wasn’t Mother’s Day, but he had a partner now. Would Henri like flowers? It seemed rather cheesy to Rahul, but Henri had gone and done the whole candle-lit virginity-losing thing. He might be into a bit of cheese, a bit of camp.

Then there was the whole business of Rahul feeling slightly guilty for having flirted just that little bit with Julian during their double date… He’d just been a bit caught up, was all. Julian had looked so handsome, and Henri and Michael were virtually ignoring them, and Julian had been so keen…

Henri never seemed to have noticed anything and was content to snuggle up with him in bed that night, and every other night since then. But that didn’t detract from Rahul’s heavy conscience. So giving Henri a romantic little surprise seemed like just the thing to ease his mind.

But then the question was… what sort of flowers could he possibly get him? The only thing Rahul knew less about was women. But here was someone who was not only a woman but had chosen flowers as their occupation.

“Er, yeah. Actually. I was thinking of getting some flowers for my boyfriend but I haven’t a clue where to start. Could you recommend something?” He felt quite bold and proud of himself for using the word “boyfriend” out loud without stumbling over it nervously.

“Oooh, romantic,” she cooed. “So you and Julian finally official, then?”

Rahul nearly choked on his own tongue. “E-excuse me?

A little crease appeared between her eyebrows. “You and Julian. I figured what with Julian dating men now you’d have finally gotten together. I mean, since you’re clearly in love with him.”

Rahul did a bit of indignant sputtering before he was able to formulate words. “I -- wha --? No, I’m not -- And he isn’t -- It’s not like that --” He took a deep, grounding breath to chase away the sudden dizziness. “Julian’s with Michael now, and I’m, ah, I’m with someone else. Nice bloke. Henri. French. He’s very nice. I’m not in love with Julian. At all. Maybe I was, before, a little bit. But definitely not anymore. We’re just friends. Because I’m with Henri. And he’s nice.”

“Yeah. You said.” Her expression was dubious.

Rahul deflated a little under her gaze. She seemed able to see straight through him to the truth at his core. He couldn’t quite meet her eye as he asked, “How did you know I was, er, that I had feelings for…”

“It took me a little while to work out, but once I put it together it was pretty obvious.” Her tone was kindly, like that of a sympathetic schoolteacher. “You do try to chase off anyone that gets too close to him like you’re some kind of possessive bulldog.”

All the bulldogs Rahul had ever met had been lazy, content creatures. If anything, he was like his mother’s dogs. A Pomeranian. Territorial and skittish. He couldn’t help but laugh at that, remembering how Julian had reminded him of a Pomeranian once, the very first time they’d met.

“Yeah,” he said fondly.

“I am happy for you, though,” Aisling said as she busied herself picking assorted flowers from their baskets. “That you’ve found someone else. Honestly, leaving Julian might possibly be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t ever remember feeling this… free. I had entirely forgotten what it was like to be single and only having to care about me. Not having to worry about some spoiled man-baby who needs to constantly have his ego stroked like he’s the Evil Queen asking the mirror on the wall if he’s the prettiest one of all --”

She broke off when she saw Rahul’s pained expression. “Sorry. Forgot that he’s still your mate,” she continued, face and voice serene, as she arranged the flowers she’d chosen onto a large square of parcel paper. “It’s just nice to do things I want to do without having to check with someone else first. Sometimes being in a relationship -- regardless of who you’re with -- can feel a bit like being a prisoner. I feel like I’ve got my life back. Do you know what I mean?”

“No, I can see, ah, how well you’re doing. I’m glad. I’m happy for you, Aisling.” And he found that he meant it. If this was the person she’d always been, then he was sorry she’d been hidden away under layers of resentment and insecurity. He wondered if he was at least partly responsible for that, as he’d kept her relationship on the rocks for years with his needling. That thought filled him with a sudden guilt so intense he felt his throat constrict and palms go sweaty.

While Aisling was wrapping up the bouquet, Rahul wiped his hands on his trousers and began, bumbling but earnest, “Aisling, I never… If I ever did anything to… What I mean to say is, I’m sorry. For everything. I acted like a right berk half the time, and I never thought how that might make you, er… Well. So there it is.”