53
‘You’ve said the barbecue will have vegetarian options?’ Lorraine said, a fist pressing into one nicely tailored cream woollen hip, the other hand grasping Matt’s flyer. Say what you like about my mum, Roisin thought, she can seriously wear a pencil skirt. Her dry-cleaning bills must be eye-watering. ‘You’re not leaving Terence in charge of that bit, are you?’
‘Nope. It’s going to be a job lot of corn cobs and meat-free hot dogs,’ Matt said. ‘I’ve assigned Roisin to that stand. I’m cocktails. Terry is meat. You’re front of house.’
‘Thank goodness! I would describe Terence’s idea of vegetarian food as macabre,’ Lorraine said. ‘He once tried to feed them discs of processed burger cheese with a slice of beef tomato pressed into it, slipped into a pitta pocket.’
‘Oof. That’s probably how the BTK Killer got started. Sent them to taunt the detective,’ Matt said, and Roisin spat some of her post-closing time G&T.
Their reward for a day of fête prep and bar service was a takeaway from the Golden Dragon in Knutsford, the foil-lidded cartons now covering the largest table by the window in the saloon bar.
‘You’ve done this because you know I’m on a diet, haven’t you?’ Lorraine said, before placing two spring rolls on a saucer, and after a moment’s reflection, a third.
‘There’s plenty spare, Mum, have what you want,’ Roisin said.
‘How dare you!’ Lorraine said. ‘I’ll have some of that chicken and a bit of egg fried rice, leave you two kids to it. See you tomorrow.’
‘Night, Lozza!’ Matt said, making a who, me? gesture when Roisin did an exaggerated double-take.
Once Lozza had safely ascended the stairs beyond the bar, Roisin told Matt about the second episode of Hunter and her failed interrogation of Joe. She stressed she’d said she alone had been to Sesso.
‘Being fair,’ Matt said, digging a fork into crispy beef, ‘I’d have drawn the same conclusions that you did. Joe’s created a lot of drama around his drama by shutting you out of his creative process, huh. You’re not someone who’d lose it if he’d simply said, hi honey I’m home, got my scarf, had a crafty cigarette with the waitress, might make a plot line, off for a shower.’
‘That’s true.’ That was very true. Joe had started fetishing unnecessary secrecy. Nevertheless, Roisin hadn’t put herself in a great position to make that case. ‘… But I’m resigning with immediate effect from the prying,’ Roisin said. ‘It was a pretty awful prelude to “I am definitely sure we’re over, bye.”’
‘Really?’ Matt said. He gave her a direct look and Roisin was grieved to read disbelief within it. She clearly hadn’t come across as very decisive.
‘Yes. Don’t tell my mum yet. But I need to do something to prove it, clearly. Something highly distasteful, that involves collecting my tights from a hedgerow.’
‘Speaking of which, I have an actual social event in a week’s time. There’s a soft launch of a sister bar to a place I supply, new one is in Ancoats. The front of house invited me, and I thought, ack, why not. She seems nice.’
‘She. Oh aye. In the same way you said to an unknown lady, join me in Lisbon on a work trip? Why not!’ Roisin made a thumbs-up.
‘Fuck youuuuu,’ Matt said, tipping beer bottle to lips.
‘Imagine, if you cop off with anyone next week, the last person in your bed was Amelia Lee. Don’t tell her that until afterwards – it’s terrifying. Also might make you sound like a dangerous fantasist.’
‘I didn’t sleep with Amelia,’ Matt said, snapping a piece of prawn toast in half and biting it with good teeth. ‘Or even kiss her, come to think of it.’
‘What? You went to Portugal with her? Then to London in the middle of the night?’
‘The whole thing was like a chaste, extended audition for the role of Civilian Boyfriend, and I didn’t pass it. I don’t think she ever had a serious intention of getting involved with a normal. She was like a giantess playing with a box of Lego.’
‘Oh.’
‘Being fair, I think she was also aware of the bragging rights attached to bedding her, and that made her very fussy and careful too.’
Roisin pondered: Joe had always said Matt was a dissolute rogue, yet if so, where were his victims? None of his capers seemed to have victims, only lively and willing participants.
Roisin speared a piece of green pepper. ‘Have you ever had a serious girlfriend? I’ve only known you being a … er, roving bachelor.’
‘Translation: have I always been this emotionally frigid dogboy?’
‘DOGBOY! Hahahahaha. No, I suppose I meant – have you ever been in love?’
‘Yeah, I was, once. Well, still am. That any hope of her was lost a long time ago doesn’t stop me being in love. Oh God. What a twat. That sounds like a John Mayer lyric.’
‘What happened?’
Matt brushed prawn toast dust from his hands. ‘I confided how I felt about her to a friend, who I thought I could trust. He wasn’t even single, so I didn’t think he was any threat. He immediately made a move on her and they’ve been together ever since. They emigrated to the other side of the world a couple of years ago; I’ve hidden her on social media to avoid the inevitable baby announcement. I’ve come to terms with my loss, in some respects. That’s the one thing I can’t face. Scroll scroll your auntie’s angry about a rude cashier in ASDA, scroll scroll funny raccoons, scroll scroll the love of your life is WITH HIS CHILD.’ Matt made a ‘brrr’ face.
This was an eerie mirror of Gina’s processes with Matt, and yet Roisin wasn’t going to break her confidence by telling him this.
‘Oh no,’ Roisin said. ‘No one since measures up?’
‘I’ve never again had that simple, complete and overwhelming certainty that someone was the one for me, no. Though, being fair, I don’t know how much chance I’ve given anyone else.’
Oof. Once again, he and Gina perfectly understood each other. Divided by a common language.
‘Sometimes, in dating, I feel like I ace the interview because I don’t really want the job,’ Matt said. ‘Does that sound REALLY big-headed?’
‘Lol, yes it does,’ Roisin said. ‘Do you think this woman would have gone out with you, if you’d asked in time?’
Matt shrugged. ‘No, probably not. My romantic “gazumping” is an ego-saving myth. It wasn’t first come, first served. I think I was invisible to her.’
‘It’s hard to imagine you being invisible,’ Roisin said, adding a tactical gurn, to make it clear she wasn’t buttering his muffin.
‘Depends what you’re looking for,’ Matt said, mildly.