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The first thing the waiter asks us is if we want a drink.
“Can I have a gin and tonic, please?”
Paul looks awkward but asks, “Indian lager, whatever is the most popular.”
He smiles tightly and I make a mental note. Okay, so that’s his first beer. Let’s see how this goes.
“Hey, are we late? We’re late, sorry!” Susan is behind us suddenly, coming towards the table.
She looks absolutely gorgeous in a white cashmere jumper dress, her litheness accentuated, her dark hair piled on her head. She’s wearing simple jewellery and cuts a stylish, elegant figure. I decided seeing as though we were coming to an Indian, I’d wear a sparkly top and jeans, plus my favourite strappy ankle boots. I straightened my hair and went minimal on the make-up, meanwhile Susan looks like a fucking film star in a backstreet ghetto diner.
“You’re not late at all, we just got here.” I rise from my chair to hug her tight, enveloping her against my bosom, which cannot be helped seeing as though I’m quite tall and she’s average height.
She pulls back and smiles. “You look so happy.”
“Thanks. Where’s Adam, by the way?”
“Oh, he’s just parking up. He sent me inside because he hates being late.”
Paul’s next for a hug and she grins at me as he squeezes her, either because she’s happy for us or she likes his beard, too and wishes Adam could grow one this thick.
Adam arrives and then our table is complete. He leans down to kiss me and grabs Paul for a bear hug. The guys sit on one side of the table while we sit the other. More drinks are ordered and then they’re all brought out together. Adam makes a toast to new beginnings and then the lads start talking about football and Paul’s new job.
Susan and I zone out to a certain extent, turning in our chairs towards one another.
“Is the house still as beautiful as it was last time I visited?” I start.
She sips her drink and nods, eyes sparkling. “Oh, I’m obsessed with filling it with pretty things, it’s an addiction. Cushions and little bits of wooden furniture I find in the sales, stuff like that. It’s silly, really. But it looks so pretty.”
I don’t know why any of us ever suspected Susan of being the devil, she’s lovely, and just my cup of tea – a really girly girl.
“It’s nothing you should feel guilty about, I will be doing just the same in my first house.”
She searches my face and looks at the boys, still wrapped up in conversation about the Premier League. “Notourhouse, then?” she mumbles.
“Maybe, who knows? Early days. Lots going on.”
“Oh my god, yes. Tell me about your job. Please. I find it fascinating, the brain and all that.”
“Oh, god, Susan, it’s really fascinating, I agree, but not in the ways you think.”
She laughs, throwing her head back. “We have been watching a bit too much serial killer crap lately.”
“It’s actually really scary dealing with patients who’ve no idea when it started or how. It’s even scarier when they don’t want help.”
She touches my arm. “Tell me all about it.”
“Okay.”
We’ve finished dinner and are now partaking of iced desserts, coffee and more alcohol. Somehow, it’s all going together.
“Oh my god, toothache!” Paul yells, putting down his spoon and pushing his ice cream away. Adam takes his bowl and adds Paul’s leftovers to his. “Oh my god, fuck!” He holds the side of his mouth. I’ve been telling him for days he needs to go to the dentist about one of his molars. He keeps using that clove rub on it but the effect never lasts.
“Can’t be as bad as your run-in with Theo last week, eh?” Susan blurts, chuckling.
The silence around the table is deafening when Susan sees Paul’s face, and that of her husband. We’ve been raucous for a while now, ever since the third round of drinks, and our silence has suddenly made us realise the restaurant’s been filling up all the time we’ve been in here, and now we’re the only ones quiet.
Adam reaches across the table to take Susan’s hand; she’s had a bit to drink and isn’t Catholic, so she’s not trained to brush everything under the carpet like we are. A slip of the tongue… that I can forgive.
