‘No need,’ said Rosa, her mouth full of toast.
‘Now, Rosa,’ said Jess. ‘I mean it. Have a holiday. Take a break. Go on, go and see Will and Judy. You said they invited you the other week. Go for some brisk walks, get some country air. I’ll lend you some money, if you need it’ — and Rosa said, ‘No thanks’ — and Jess made a pishing noise as if to say that they would argue about this later. ‘So why not go off for a while and then we’ll see if you don’t come back full of gusto. Give them a call later.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Rosa. ‘Quite enough gusto. Thanks for the suggestion.’
‘Why not consider it at least. It’s easy to get trapped in a way of thinking about things. You’d find it’d give you some distance. Look, I’ll square it.’
Rosa was about to say no thanks, but then she realised she wasn’t sure if Jess meant her holiday or her brunch. The holiday she could turn down with dignity, but she was hoping Jess might expense brunch. Playing for time, she said, ‘Jess, you’ve been really saintly. As soon as I regain my poise’ — at this Jess kept a straight face and said nothing — ‘I will definitely take your advice. But for the moment, I don’t want to leave the city when everything is so indeterminate. I have to get a job. I can’t just borrow money from you.’
Jess greased her lips with spittle. She said, ‘As long as you know the offer stands. The other thing is, well, I think it might be time for you to move on.’
‘Move on from what?’ said Rosa, with a heightened sense of foreboding. There was a pregnant pause while Jess seized her coffee and drank it down. When she had finished she said, quite calmly, ‘From my flat.’
‘You want me to move out?’
‘In short, yes.’
That was a blow, though far from surprising. Really, Rosa agreed. She was an imposition. However penitent she was, she was still there in Jess’s flat all day, scattering books and scraps of paper across her stripped pine floorboards, violating the sanctity of the bathroom, leaving stains on the coffee cups. She was intrusive and the offer had originally only been for a few weeks. Besides, Jess and Neil were settling down. They wanted to start a family, Jess was explaining. ‘At thirty-four,’ she said, ‘we think it’s high time. We just want a bit more space. You know, so we can sort things out and really get on to the next stage.’
The logic was irrefutable. The next stage was beckoning and who was Rosa to stand in the way? Jess was eager for her next part, ready and willing to play it. The argument was done and dusted by the time Jess had unfurled a few reasonable sentences. It was a pedestrian moment but it left Rosa with the awkward question of where she would go. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I understand.’ She squinted at the table. ‘I can go as soon as you want.’
‘No no, just as soon as you can,’ said Jess, suggesting that it would be physically impossible for Rosa to go as soon as she wanted. ‘I don’t want to sling you out completely. Let’s just work towards you going as soon as possible. Think about it today and tell me how soon you think that will be, and then I’ll make plans around that.’
That was pretty brutal, and Rosa thought about launching a protest. Jess, if I may beg you?! I understand, you have been generous, toweringly generous, far more than you needed to be. In honesty, we were never close friends, you and I. Cordial with each other, part of a bonded group, but there was no particular tie between us. Which makes your patience still more commendable. But perhaps you are being hasty? After all, I’ve been here only two months and in that time I have made good progress. I have read some of Euripides, a bit of Seneca, a few poems by Catullus, a little (though tentatively and in some confusion) of Plotinus, and, in my leisure hours, some Wordsworth, a lot of Blake, a number of sonnets by Donne. I have really cracked on with ancient philosophy. While doing this, I have managed nonetheless to pay rent every month. I understand, you gave me a good rate on the room, minimal compared to the market rate, I can hardly complain. Nonetheless, Sharkbreath will tell you, that money was sucked out of my account each month. Eventually it was sucked from my debt. I have not been tidy, I know, but I have never been late with a payment! And she thought of the hours she had spent pacing the streets, or sitting in cinemas and bars, trying to avoid going back to Jess’s flat, giving her evenings on her own and evenings with Neil and disappearing when Jess had guests over — as if she was merely a sponging interloper, the recipient of charity. Still it was hard to construct a case. There was no way she could justify herself. Instead she said ‘Of course’ in a weak voice. ‘Thanks so much for letting me stay for so long. I know it hasn’t been ideal for you.’ She sipped her coffee and thought, Now what will you do? There was a pause, while Rosa considered the question and Jess looked eagerly for the waiter.
‘I still think you should just get away,’ said Jess. ‘I’m really happy to lend you the money. Let me know. And if I can help you in any other way.’
‘Oh no, that’s fine. You’ve really helped already,’ said Rosa. ‘It’s not your fault at all. I’m sorry if I’ve been inconsiderate.’
Jess shook her head, impatiently.
‘In truth, Jess,’ said Rosa, ‘these months have been a trifle hard.’ A trifle trying, she thought, these last few months. ‘I feel — well, frankly, I feel as if I am presiding over a small tranche of chaos, my own, but completely beyond my control. It’s a sort of self-consciousness I feel. I’m watching the descent. Like a novice skier, I am flying down the slope, without a sense of direction.’ Jess looked unimpressed. The wind is whipping at my ears. Someone! Slow me down! The wind is really chasing me along. I can see a few faces, a few spectators, but they can’t stop me. It’s a following wind, following me along, gusting me into what can only be a crevasse. A great gaping chasm. I don’t want to plunge in, I want to turn the skis around, or at least fall to the side into an accommodating snowdrift, but the snow is too pacey and slithery and I’m gathering speed, hurtling faster and faster and now I can see the blackness opening up before me, do you understand? I should be screaming at these people standing around on the slopes. I should be screaming HELP ME! SAVE ME! But I’m worried they might have other things to do, better things to do, so I’m skiing along, smiling at them, trying to look like I know what I’m doing. It’s trenchant, the darkness. Black and compelling. Here we are, faster and faster and here’s the hole! Here’s the damn dark hole! Ahead! Ahead!
Jess asked for the bill. When it came she said, ‘I’ll get it’, and slapped her credit card on the table. Rosa let her pay.
*
Later she and Jess went their separate ways: Jess to the tube with a spring of plain relief in her step and Rosa back to the flat, her own personal sword of Damocles dangling above. At the flat, she checked the post and wrote a few petitions, attempts to placate the fates. She wrote a letter to the Flower Shop, applying for a job tying bows round bouquets. Dear Sir or Madam, I would be delighted to be considered for this position. As a child, I was quite good at playing the piano and the violin. I have always enjoyed using my fingers. Really, though my training was in journalism I have long felt that flowers were my true metier. She could imagine herself there, tying up a bouquet, one hand to her temple, the other struggling with a piece of ribbon. ‘Fancy a batch of lilies, sir, quite your nicest funeral flower?’ ‘There’s Rosemary, that’s for remembrance. And there are pansies, that’s for thoughts. There’s rue for you. There’s a daisy. Thanks so much. Come again soon. For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.’ She wrote,