Three Way (34 page)

‘Yeah. Well, I know I’m probably the last person you want to speak to about this but for what it’s worth, if you need anything…’ I glance at her. ‘Not that.’ We both laugh. ‘I mean, if you need to talk.’ I nod again.

‘Thanks. What about Norman?’ I ask. She rolls her eyes.

‘He’s just…I don’t know what he is.’

‘Bit on the side?’

‘Probably.’

‘Do you like him?’ I ask. She goes to answer then stops and thinks.

‘Not really.’ She leans back in her chair, rubs her eyes slowly and sighs. ‘Ollie, what am I doing?’

‘Your best. Isn’t that what we’re all doing?’ I reply.

‘If this is my best, I’ve got some serious issues.’

Ashley and I head back to the flat. I manage to persuade her that, for lack of a better idea, she should stay around mine until she finds somewhere else. She reluctantly agrees. We walk slowly, not saying much. The sun is out and it’s turned into a glorious day. I spot some short sleeves and bare legs.

When we arrive back at the flat, Tristan is sitting on the floor in front of my door smoking a fag. I glance at Ashley who shrugs.

‘Hey,’ I say.

‘Whaddya say you fucking…’ Tristan mumbles.

‘Hey! You’re blocking the door, man,’ I say. His eyes open and he quickly shields them from the blinding sunlight. He looks up at us.

‘You want some heroin?’ he asks.

‘Cheers but, no thank you,’ I reply. Slowly he gets up and offers his hand to Ashley.

‘I don’t know you but if you want some heroin, I have some?’

‘Ah that’s sweet but I’m okay, thank you,’ Ashley replies.

‘Why doesn’t anyone want my drugs? Fuck, I can’t give ’em away.’

‘They bust you again?’ I ask.

‘Fucking pigs. I gotta wear this fucking thing,’ he says, pulling up his trouser leg to reveal a tag around his ankle. ‘Fascists.’

‘Yeah,’ Ashley and I say, almost in union.

‘You want to know the bitch of it?’ he asks.

‘What?’ I reply.

‘It’s a real fucker to get off,’ he says. I glance at Ashley.

‘Sorry man, can we get through?’ I say, stepping around him and putting the key in the lock. I open the door.

‘It can only get better, right?’ Ashley says, her hand on Tristan’s shoulder. Tristan looks at her, his face suddenly softening.

‘I guess,’ he says. I go inside, Ashley follows. She turns to close the door.

‘Good luck,’ she says.

‘Thanks,’ he replies. She smiles and closes the door.

‘Very nice of you,’ I say.

‘We can’t all be born winners,’ Ashley replies.

‘I’m not a winner.’

‘Who said anything about you?’ she says, turning around.

‘O…kay,’ I reply, keeping eye contact. Ashley turns from me and suddenly starts to move quickly. She becomes almost a blur in front of me, she’s moving so fast. And then everything else starts moving in the same way, minutes become hours become days become months. The flat goes from tidy to messy back to tidy. Parker and Nicola come and go, back and forth. Ashley flies around me, then is gone. Day turns to night which turns back to day. Over and over again. I look at the clock on the wall, time is suddenly moving at an incredible rate. The big hand is nothing more than a haze, the little hand barely visible. And then, as quickly as it started, everything starts to slow. The months slow to days and then to hours, before becoming minutes and seconds. The nights turn to days but it takes longer now, until suddenly I’m staring at an empty living room. I look around. Time has settled.

It’s been almost a year since that conversation with Ashley and Tristan. I still live here, in the flat. I walk into the hallway and down towards what used to be Parker’s room. Empty. Just a spare bedroom. Sunlight pours through the windows showing dust particles in the beams. The flat is empty. I hear my phone ring in the other room. I walk along the hallway and back into the living room. I pick it up from the table.

‘Hello?’ I say.

‘What, no insult?’ replies Parker.

‘I’m trying to rise above stuff like that.’

‘Yeah, right. What you doing?’

‘I’m…’ I stop, glancing around. What am I doing?

‘Having a wank?’ Parker finishes the sentence for me. ‘Want me to call back later?’

‘Parker, I always want you to call back later but as you’re on the phone, what do you want?’

‘It’s Nicola’s birthday on Friday and I thought I’d take her somewhere nice. Like, not The Old Cock and I just wondered if you had any suggestions?’

‘What, like a bar?’

‘Yeah, but a cool bar.’

‘I dunno. I went to this place with Lauren once, in the City. Uh, Jo Jo’s I think it’s called. Quite trendy and hip. Not the sort of place I’d expect to find someone like you.’

‘Ta for that. I’ll sort something out, you up for coming?’

‘I dunno...’

‘Nicola has lots of nice single friends.’

‘She also shits on floors.’

‘We agreed you wouldn’t bring that up,’ he says.

‘We never agreed anything.
You
said not to bring it up,’ I reply.

‘And yet here we are…still talking about it,’ he replies.

‘How’s the book?’

‘Yeah still making an absolute mint from it, being translated into Macedonian. Crazy, right?’

‘So you must have more money than God?’

‘Not yet, but soon my son. Soon.’

‘Nice. Drinks on you then,’ I say. Parker managed to get an agent for his book. Turned out that awful thing I read on his computer wasn’t actually his book. What he had written (and kept well hidden from me) was a stunning novel about the First World War and a man trying to get home. It was really good and the agent managed to sell it after a bidding war between three publishers. Now it’s on the cusp of being released into book shops, he’s got some enormous advance and he’s living it up. How, you may ask? The answer, dear friends, is I haven’t got a clue but I’m happy for him. Suddenly he’s become all serious and hardly watches Top Gear at all. Although that may be to do with Nicola not allowing him to control the TV. Yeah, they moved in together and seem happy enough. Most of the time.

‘Uh huh. Have you heard from-’ he asks.

‘Nope.’

‘Bitch.’

‘No, she probably just hasn’t had time.’

‘When was the last time you spoke to her?’

‘I dunno, couple of weeks ago.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘She misses me. A lot.’

‘Of course she does. So, she’s still in New York?’ he asks.

‘Yeah. I’m planning to go and see her in a couple of months. Maybe after the schools go back.’

‘Sure, yeah,’ Parker says. I won’t pretend having a long-distance relationship has been easy, because it hasn’t. We can go days without talking. I try to keep my spirits up but it’s hard. She tells me about her deals and the shit they’re making her do over there, most of which I don’t understand. I miss her. I know, I’m crap, right? But I do genuinely feel sad when we have to stop Skype or hang up. I think she’s still in to me. Hopefully as much as before but it’s so difficult to tell when you’re three thousand miles away from each other. She did come over for Christmas and again in March. We had a lot of sex. I’ll say no more than that. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I can’t even begin to tell you what it does to the libido. I realise Parker is still on the line.

‘Okay, so maybe see you Friday then?’ I say.

‘Yeah, laters dude.’

Friday comes around faster than expected. Nicola decided my idea of Jo Jo’s was an excellent one. Be weird if some of Lauren’s City bunch were there. Mark did say they went down there regularly. Sod it, I’m sure it will be fine. I pull on my smartest jacket and shirt, leaving the top button undone. I slap on a little Armani Code and I’m good to go. I catch my reflection in the mirror and quickly move on.

I’ve arranged to meet Nicola and Parker at Jo Jo’s. I guess we could have gone together or shared a taxi but I just want to sit on the tube and listen to my iPod, pondering my lot in life. Just as I’m out of the woods with Svetla, Lauren comes along and wheedles her way into my thoughts only to fuck off across the Atlantic, leaving me alone. Could it be that I, Ollie Hayward, am incapable of being by myself? I don’t know. The thought makes me more depressed as the Waterloo and City line yanks me towards my destination.

I arrive just after seven at Jo Jo’s and look around. It’s already rammed. My eyes do a quick scan of the place, searching for people I might know and not want to talk to (e.g. Mark, James, Paul, Julie, my mum.) With no apparent sign of unpleasantness I walk up to the bar. Everyone is dressed in suits or business clothes. After work drinks. Clubby music thumps from hidden speakers. It’s just so…contemporary in here. Like someone went nuts with Ikea decorations and lighting and threw them all over the place. In another year or two this place will be like fifties architecture. Hopelessly out of date.

I stand patiently behind the bar waiting to get served, occasionally looking around to see if Parker and Nicola have arrived. Eventually I catch the barman’s attention.

‘Hello mate, can I get a pint of Peroni, please?’ I ask. He pours the beer and takes my money.With uncanny timing, I feel a slap on my shoulder. I glance around to see Parker standing with Nicola and two other girls, all dressed to the nines.

‘Alright shithead?’ Parker says, smiling.

‘Hi,’ I reply, ‘happy birthday Nicola.’ She smiles, leaning forward to kiss me on both cheeks. She looks vaguely hot in a short, red dress.

‘Ollie, this is Rachel…’ (the one with the tight white jeans and cold sore above her lip) ‘and Keely,’ (the redhead wearing a smart leather jacket and almost laughable high heels.) I shake both their hands, smiling.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Keely says.

‘You too. You want a drink?’ I ask.

‘That is the most productive thing you’ve said all week,’ Parker says.

‘I booked a table, let’s go and find it. Can you help Ollie with the drinks, Parker?’ Nicola asks. Parker salutes.

‘Sir, yes sir,’ he says, saluting. She’s not impressed and his smile soon dies.

‘Mine’s a dry white wine, if that’s okay,’ says Rachel. She sounds a bit like a chipmunk, farcically high pitched.

‘Me too, thanks,’ says Keely.

‘Can I get a vodka and Coke,’ says Nicola. I nod. The girls wander off to find their table.

‘So?’ Parker says.

‘So what?’

‘Which one?’

‘Neither.’

‘No?’ he says, watching them walk away. He turns back to me. ‘Picky fucker, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right and I have a girlfriend, cheers though,’ I say. Parker looks around the bar.

‘Well I asked for trendy and you deliver…a Superdry store without the clothes.’

‘I thought it was more IKEA,’ I reply.

‘Hmm.’

‘So what did you get Nicola for her birthday?’ I ask.

‘Call of Duty for the Playstation,’ Parker replies, straight away. I chuckle.