Page 37 of People Skills

‘I hate talking about it,’ he says.

‘Okay, tell me about you and Lana,’ I say. ‘Or your relationship with your mother. Or father. We can do one after the other.’

‘Are these my only conversational options?’

‘I am trying to make talking about writing more appealing.’

‘Actually, I want to talk about you,’ he says.

‘Nice try.’

I sip my wine. I am not here to talk about myself. The less Xavier knows about me, the better. I like the idea of being a mysterious presence, the minor, slightly magical character who changes the direction of his life.

‘Why did you move to Barwon Bay?’ he asks.

‘To work for Hillary.’

‘That’s the only reason?’

‘Well. I left my job at Jones & Peterson. Broke up with my boyfriend. And I was living with my parents.’

‘The trackpants.’

‘Exactly. I needed a change of scenery. My social life was watching Slow Horses with my parents.’ I am telling him way too much.

‘And now what is your social life?’

‘Watching Slow Horses by myself.’

He laughs.

‘I was worried you were going to say watching it with my mother.’

‘Hillary doesn’t watch TV.’ This isn’t entirely true, but she’s said it in enough media interviews that I feel obliged to keep up appearances for her. She worked in television her whole life, but in current affairs, which is different, according to her, and her preferred formats for consuming a story, a piece of fiction, are film and literature.

‘She watches TV,’ he scoffs.

‘She prefers film though.’

‘You know she can’t hear you right now?’ He looks around. ‘Unless she’s standing right behind me. Which she might be—I feel like I have to always look over my shoulder while I’m living here.’

‘If she’s ever standing behind you, I’ll use a special code to let you know,’ I say.

‘What’s the code?’

‘I’ll say “Hi, Hillary”.’

He laughs. ‘What’s the worst thing she’s ever made you do?’

‘No, we’re not doing that.’

‘Why not? Let’s share war stories. She once got into an argument with my English teacher over my marks that half the school witnessed. Your turn.’

‘Nope. Sorry. I am a professional with boundaries.’

‘What if you drink several more glasses of wine and then I ask you again?’

‘I hold my alcohol very well,’ I say. I don’t, but he doesn’t need to know that. ‘Anyway, you’re lucky a parent was willing to come and fight for you.’ My mother, certainly, would never. She went to the school only for bad news, usually to try and stop my brothers getting suspended.