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‘Like I said, it’s all down to you. Whenever I’m looking at a potential new product, I apply what I call the “Charley test” to it. “What would Charley say about this?” I ask myself. It’s worked like a charm. Sales are through the roof, and Roger and Brian are delighted. Take this jacket, for example.’ He hands it over for me to inspect. ‘We had a vegan leather jacket in the range before, but it was made of polyurethane and it wasn’t very convincing. We sold a few, but the only people that bought them were hardcore vegans. This one is made from pineapple leaf fibres, would you believe. Not only does it look and feel like real leather, but we’re using a by-product of normal pineapple production, so no extra resources are needed to produce it.’
I have to admit, the jacket is pretty convincing, and there’s a quality, premium feel to it.
‘We’ve been selling them faster than we can get them,’ Josh continues. ‘In fact, I’m flying out to Jamaica in a couple of days to meet a potential new supplier.’
‘I’m sorry, I think I misheard,’ I say to him. ‘Did you say you wereflying? What about the carbon emissions?’
He has the grace to look bashful. ‘It’s not ideal,’ he admits, ‘but we had a major issue with a fabric supplier earlier this year. We thought we were dealing with an ethical company that was producing clothes made from recycled products, until we were contacted by a national newspaper who painted a very different picture. It was a tricky time, as I’m sure you can imagine. Our premium, eco-friendly garments were actually being made in a sweat shop from ordinary cotton. We dropped the range immediately, the paper was very understanding and published the article reasonably sympathetically, but we nearly got badly burned. Ever since then, there’s been a company rule that we have to deal with every new supplier face to face and make sure that they are who they say they are. We try to carbon offset every trip, but it turns out that even a company like ours can’t do without fossil fuels completely.’
As the evening wears on, my hostility to him fades away. I can’t help it – he’s Josh after all, and he knows me probably better than anyone apart from my parents. He’s still funny, self-deprecating and all the things I always liked about him. He asks about my life, and I tell him about the flat and a few stories about work. I mention the holiday, but I don’t tell him about Ed. Somehow, sharing that I’ve had another failed relationship feels as if it would be playing into his hands. At the moment, I have the complete moral high ground, and I’m not willing to give that up. It’s irrational, I know. I have nothing to be ashamed of where Ed is concerned, but I still don’t want Josh to know about him.
We emerge from the pub into the pouring rain. ‘Did you walk here?’ I ask him.
‘Yes, don’t worry though. It’s a good test for the jacket.’ He smiles.
‘Don’t be silly, I’ll give you a lift. Come on.’
I can see his surprise when I press the button and the indicators on the Fiesta flash.
‘Nice car,’ he says once he’s climbed in. ‘It’s a bit of a step up from the Micra. What did you do with all the tapes?’
‘I binned them.’
He puts his hands to his cheeks in mock horror. ‘What, evenNow That’s What I Call Music? That was going to make my fortune!’
‘’Fraid so.’
I drive him to his flat and park outside.
‘Charley,’ he says, ‘I promise I’m not being creepy or anything, but would you like to come in for a coffee? I’d appreciate your opinion on something.’
‘I don’t know, Josh.’
He looks disappointed. I have enjoyed his company this evening, and it’s not late, so I relent.
‘OK, why not? But only coffee.’
‘Fine.’
Mads is away doing some piece about chic places to stay in Mallorca, but I can still hear her voice shouting,What the hell are you doing?as I climb the stairs.Relax, it’s only coffee. I can handle myself, I reply silently.
The flat is exactly as it was when I left. Well, not quite. Something is different, and it takes me a while to work out what it is. It’s immaculately tidy. When I lived here there were always little bits of mess – a magazine left open on the coffee table, or a mug that hadn’t quite made it to the dishwasher. But now it’s spotless and everything is in its place.
I sit down in my usual place on the sofa, while Josh busies himself making the coffee; apparently, it’s a new brand they’re trialling. After a couple of minutes, he comes over with two steaming mugs, which he places down on the table before sitting down next to me.
‘It’s very tidy in here. Are you some sort of neat freak now?’ I ask him.
He smiles. ‘After Scarlett I just felt I needed to get some control back, you know? I guess tidying the place up, and keeping it tidy, is my way of doing that.’
I sip my coffee. It’s delicious, and I tell him so.
‘I’ve really missed you,’ Josh says.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ I say. In this moment I mean it. We’ll never be lovers again, but I’m definitely coming around to the idea of friendship. I look into his eyes and smile.
The kiss catches me by surprise. It’s familiar and yet totally new, all at once, and I’m not sure how to react. Josh takes my lack of action as encouragement and deepens the kiss. I’m in total paralysis. I don’t want him kissing me, but for some reason I’m not pushing him off. I’m very aware of his beard, which is a bit tickly, and his technique is a little clumsy when I compare it to Ed’s. But I still don’t move. I don’t reject him, and I can’t for the life of me work out why. He doesn’t seem to notice that I’m not kissing him back.
Even though it’s only been a few seconds since his lips first touched mine, he’s obviously a man in a hurry. His hand is already on my breast, and he wastes no time in lifting my top, moving it under the fabric of my bra and starting to tweak my nipple. His other hand moves to my crotch. And that’s when I come to my senses.
