For the next twenty minutes Sinead flicked through the TV channels, jumping from game show to house-hunting, to ballroom dancing, to kitten rescue and back again, never landing on any channel for longer than a minute. The guy didn’t have Netflix or Amazon Prime, just the shit terrestrial stuff. All she wanted was a diversion from the self-pity overrunning her like flu. But then another feeling arrived; a gnawing anxiety in the pit of her stomach. She’d just been ridiculously rude to her new landlord. Right at the start of her trial period. Sinead shut her eyes and rhythmically banged her head against the back of the sofa.
She zapped the TV, got up and padded down the hall to Elliot’s bedroom. She made sure to knock softly on the door. Ten, fifteen seconds passed.
‘Elliot?’ She paused, listening through the door. ‘D’you fancy a cup of tea?’ Several more seconds stretched out. Sinead started to turn away. The bedroom door opened fractionally, just as the front door had that first day. And Elliot had the same wary expression.
‘Sorry,’ Sinead said. ‘It’s been one of those days. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’
Elliot nodded, a tacit acknowledgement of her apology.
‘Make it milky. Three sugars.’
In the kitchen, Elliot produced a biscuit tin and asked Sinead if something he’d said had inadvertently offended her. Sinead picked out a custard cream and took a bite before replying.
‘No, it wasn’t anything like that. It wasn’t you. Just…’
‘Because I thought you didn’t have a problem with cleaning the bathroom.’
‘I don’t. I’ll clean it tomorrow, I promise.’
‘It seems we’re getting off on the wrong foot. Obviously for this arrangement to work, we’ll need to share the household chores.’
‘It wasn’t about the chores. I can vacuum the place while you’re away. Honestly, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.’ Sinead hesitated, reluctant to tell her new landlord the truth, but she couldn’t think what else to tell him. ‘It’s just something that happened with my friends.’
‘Right.’ Elliot warmed his hands around the mug. ‘You mean a quarrel of some kind?’
‘Yeah, I guess so. It’s stupid really.’
‘Well I’m sure it’s none of my business.’ Elliot cleared his throat.
She looked at him across the kitchen table. He was staring down at his shoes and tugging on his ear lobe. She blew on her steaming mug of tea. It then occurred to her that it might actually do her good to talk about her problem: an outside perspective might be useful.
‘I probably just blew it out of proportion. My best friend – Heidi – we were supposed to go and see a movie last night. You know that new Jennifer Lawrence one?’
Elliot stared blankly but then nodded.
Sinead continued. ‘Well that was the plan and I was really looking forward to it. We hardly ever go to the cinema these days. When we were students we went every week because you got two for one on Tuesdays. Anyway, she texted me that she couldn’t make it, and then today on Facebook I see that instead of being too tired to go out with me like she claimed, she’s actually partying with all my other mates. They’re all having an amazing time in my old house. Elliot’s brow furrowed while she provided the explanation of her bad mood; he looked like someone trying to follow the plot of a convoluted foreign film.
‘It sounds kinda ridiculous now I’m saying it out loud. But, yeah, that’s what happened.’
‘So this friend – Heidi – she didn’t tell you about the party?’
‘No. That’s what pissed me off.’
‘Why didn’t she invite you?’
‘Exactly – that’s what’s been getting to me all day.’
‘She didn’t want you there?’
‘Yeah.’ Sinead grimaced. ‘It looks that way, doesn’t it?’
‘But you said this person’s your best friend?’
Sinead laughed. ‘All right, don’t rub it in.’
‘Sorry, it just doesn’t make much sense.’
‘No it doesn’t. I don’t know. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. Heidi’s always been a bit flaky. It was probably a last-minute thing and she thought I’d be busy, or it would be too much hassle, so she didn’t bother telling me.’
‘So it’s Heidi and who else?’
‘There’s Magz.’
‘Magz?’
‘Yeah, her real name’s Margaret, but she hates it if you call her that. She doesn’t even like Maggie. Get this – her parents named her after Margaret Thatcher. Trust me, if you ever meet her – that’s hilarious. She’s a total pill-head, off her tits most of the time.’
‘She sounds like a loser.’
‘A loser?’ Sinead stifled a laugh. ‘Why?’
‘Anyone who needs to take illicit substances to get their thrills is hardly a winner.’
Sinead noticed a hard look in Elliot’s eyes. He didn’t find it funny about Magz being named after Thatcher. The guy must be a straight-laced Tory. She made a mental note to avoid discussing politics.
‘No, she’s cool. She’s a good laugh, honestly.’ She glanced at Elliot again; he didn’t seem convinced. ‘Yeah, she needs to stop taking so much. And she’s starting to look a bit rough; she’s twenty-five, but looks more like thirty.’
Elliot showed no reaction to her back-pedalling; he swallowed a mouthful of his milky tea and put down the mug. ‘So the three of you met at university and came down to London looking for adventure?’
‘Yeah, we did,’ Sinead said. ‘Four of us, actually.’
‘Who’s the other one?’
‘Imogen.’ Sinead couldn’t even say her name without a subtle trace of disdain.
‘What’s her story then?’
‘Let’s see… how can I describe Imogen? She’s a little princess swanning around the place, telling people what to do. Just, you know, generally looking down her nose at you.’
‘You’re not too keen on Imogen, then?’
‘That’s a fair observation.’
‘I’m guessing she’s the alpha.’
‘The what?’
‘Alpha female. The dominant member of the group.’
‘I don’t know about that. In her mind, maybe.’ Sinead paused. ‘She’s the prettiest – long black hair, big blue eyes and a perfectly symmetrical face. And she’s minted. Daddy pays her rent and got her this amazing job in fashion PR. I’ve never understood how she had so much to complain about. She’s a proper drama queen.’ Sinead looked at Elliot; he was smiling knowingly.
‘I’m sure she speaks very highly of you.’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t. She can’t stand me.’
Elliot rose and quickly drank the last of his tea.
‘I have to finish my packing. Thanks for the tea.’ He stuck his mug in the dishwasher.
Sinead put her elbows on the table and supported her chin in the palm of her upturned hand. ‘Have a good trip to Bangkok. What time’s your flight?’
‘Early. Eight o’clock.’ He passed through the doorway, and then turned round to face her. ‘It’s just an observation, but I’d say you’ve outgrown your friendships. It happens to everyone eventually. Perhaps you’re ready to move on to the next chapter in your life. Well, anyway – goodnight.’
Elliot closed the kitchen door before Sinead could reply.
13
He should give her some time alone. Yes, that was the right move. Let Sinead stew a while in her own juices. If he stayed around any longer, she would continue projecting the anger about her friends onto him. That could get messy. By leaving her on her own, he would have an opportunity to research, to gather vital information, and at the same time absence would make the heart grow fonder, so that when he returned, she’d be pleased to see him.