Chapter 10 #2
Charles mouths a soundless ‘Hello’ back, intimidated for no logical reason.
Andres claps his hands to gather them around the table. Charles approaches and drapes his coat over the back of the chair Phoebe has pulled up for him. He thanks her, thanks Andres for the beer, but doesn’t sit down with them.
Now that everybody’s attention is on Aliah, who’s resumed telling a story, Loris’ expression is morphing behind the bar. It’s subtle, a tinge of weariness in his eyes, a hint of annoyance in the way he rubs his lips together, but it’s new to Charles, therefore striking.
‘How are you doing?’ he asks, putting his can onto the counter.
Loris looks up from the glasswasher and softens. ‘I’m okay. I’m just tired, this week was—’
‘Please don’t. This is my go-to line.’
‘But it’s true. Short nights, long shifts and sightseeing in between. And I didn’t expect them all to show up tonight. But it’s okay, sleep is for the weak.’
Charles leans on his stool of choice. ‘We can cancel our session on Saturday if you want to—’
‘We can’t. That’s all I’ve been thinking about, while I was working and playing tour guide.’
‘Looking forward to hearing about Sofia?’
‘Yeah, sure, that too. You’re not ready for my interrogation!’
Charles smiles, rotating the can between his hands. ‘What tourist stuff have you done?’
‘Most landmarks and a couple of museums. And way too much shopping. I hate shopping. Especially in Central London. So many people. And they’re all so slow!’
Loris is spraying the countertop and squeezing the bottle trigger with murderous energy. Laughing, Charles casts a look at the group. Aliah seems laid-back among Loris’ friends. She’s ruffling Andres’ hair. Caressing his cheek. Kissing him lasciviously as his hand slides underneath her cardigan.
Charles starts at the scene, and again when beer spills onto his jumper.
‘Yeah, I hope you’re okay with PDAs.’ Loris rolls his eyes, but they’re tinted with affection.
‘She’s with him now?’
‘What do you mean “now”? They’ve been together since they were in high school. They’re gross, but they’re beautiful inside and out, and I want them to adopt me.’
Charles wipes his chin and blinks to reset his brain, erase his inaccurate conclusion about Aliah and reassess the dynamic in front of him. ‘So your friend is gone?’
‘What friend?’
‘Your shopping-addicted ex. Your guest.’
‘His Eurostar is tomorrow evening.’
‘Whose Eurostar?’
‘Enzo.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Enzo is my guest and he’s leaving tomorrow.’
‘Enzo is your…’
Charles glances back at the table. At the Rolling Stone front cover model, who happens to be staring at them, twisting his plectrum pendant between his black nail-polished fingers.
‘I see…’ Charles gulps a storm of arising questions that would make him sound stupid on top of feeling it. ‘Can you rest on Saturday morning?’
‘A bit, but I’ve got to tidy the flat. I’m gonna rematch my pillowcases, just for you.’
Charles flattens his hand onto his heart and smiles. A smile that should stick, because Loris is teasing, but that fades away as soon as Charles lifts his beer again.
‘I’m done here. Can we join them?’
‘Yes. I don’t want your friends to resent me.’
Charles wouldn’t know what to ask to be at ease again or how to ask it without feeling more idiotic. He’s not certain why he’s unsettled. The bubble is still holding, but undefined shadows are now surfing on its surface.
‘So you agree that band is crap,’ Enzo says, sounding so French, Charles would have linked some dots had he heard him earlier.
‘No, I said their music isn’t my cup of tea.’ Aliah sighs and shakes her head. ‘But let’s move on to a conversation Charles can take part in.’
‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ he replies as he takes his seat. ‘I’m happy to listen. I’m not much of a talker.’
‘You’re not? Your posing sessions with Loris must be fascinating, considering he prefers to let us monologue while he’s in the zone.’
‘I kind of sleep through them.’
‘Really?’
Charles reaches for his pocket, the tip of his ears burning under their inquisitive looks. They’re aware he’s posing for Loris. What else has he told them? What portrait is Charles meant to live up to?
‘What happens in my flat stays in my flat, Aliah, you know that.’ Loris slumps onto the chair near Enzo. ‘Didn’t you say you had juicy work stories?’
‘Oh, yes!’
Charles meets Loris’ caring eyes above his can, and the wave of danger recedes.
He leaves his pen in his coat but takes his phone to have something to fiddle with in case his stress-level surges again.
He swipes away a notification and places it onto his thigh, but Phoebe snatches it, her eyes bulging out.
‘I knew you had to have some flaws, but this is a ginormous one.’
His lock screen is an old photo of him, George and Elsy, in the terraces of the former Tottenham stadium. He and George were sporting their custom-flocked shirts. Elsy was supporting the other team, as usual.
‘Who are they?’
‘Elsy and George. Friends of mine.’
‘Single?’
‘George?’
‘I don’t care, they’re both hot. Even in that repulsing setting.’
‘Yes, they’re single…’
‘Sweet. Bring them along next time.’
Phoebe winks and refocuses on Aliah. Charles keeps a straight face, because Loris is side-eyeing him, but he scratches his thumb, agitated for a brand-new reason.
The shameful realisation that he’s not sure if George is single.
Last Charles heard, his friend was worried about catching feelings for the woman he was seeing.
Torn between planning another date or cutting her off, he intended to go data analyst on the situation.
But last Charles heard was a few weeks ago.
George doesn’t gush about his love life unless someone asks, and Charles hasn’t wondered about it once.
The loathing voice that assaulted him in the taxi rumbles again.
He’s so hellbent on finding safe ways to make it through each day, he’s becoming self-centred.
He should know his best friend’s relationship status.
He could have figured out that Loris’ ex was a boyfriend.
He didn’t ask Alex how his family has been doing lately.
He never checks that Elsy isn’t actually hurting when she jokes about her failure of an affair. He hasn’t—
And there he goes again. Self-flagellating instead of engaging with the group. He growls, then squeezes his can. His growl wasn’t as internal as the deprecating voice, so the table went quiet.
‘I’m… I’m getting hoarse. Sorry, Aliah, carry on. But for context, what do you do?’
‘I’m a talent manager. I represent children. Meaning I have to deal with the most demanding parents who believe their progeny is the next big thing because they can smile on cue.’
‘Which makes for crazy stories she gets super intense about.’ Andres laughs and pulls her against him. ‘We love it.’
‘I’m not intense, they’re all psychotic!
So, that bitch, she— The mother, not the little brat…
She gets back to me a week later and for what?
“That brand doesn’t speak to us. What else have you got?
” “Well, my fake nails in your fake tan? They’ll speak to you clearly!
” Oh, and the evil twins’ father has struck again! ’
The speed of Aliah’s delivery is a gear above what Charles has the capacity to follow at the moment. But her voice is muffling his own, so he manages to concentrate enough to grasp the nuances of her hot-blooded personality.
That’s what he does for the next half an hour, as the narrator keeps changing and reactions burst out. He asks questions that can’t be returned and drafts a first portrait of Loris’ friends.
Compared to his girlfriend, Andres appears very chill, but Charles wouldn’t risk crossing swords with his brawny arms. He’s a cook in a restaurant near King’s Cross train station. The same restaurant where Phoebe bartends part-time to pay for her criminology studies.
She never misses an occasion to mock her friends, but her attitude is very motherly. She reminds Charles of George, who can tease him and Alex for hours, encourages sparring matches between Phil and Spencer, but flips the table when someone out of their circle badmouths his mates.
As for Enzo, he’s made it clear that he knows more about castings than Aliah, more about Spanish food than Andres and more about UK law than Phoebe. He also seems to know more about Loris’ choices and opinions than Loris himself, which is a Milton-like behaviour and gets Charles’ back up.
For an ex-boyfriend on a one-off visit, Enzo cares a lot about marking his territory. His body language is risible.
But when he brings Loris’ hand behind his neck, and Loris starts massaging him, Charles loses the will to laugh. The memory of Loris’ touch has been such a buoy since Tuesday, sharing it with a guy who can manifestly stay afloat on his own feels like a gross injustice.
Luckily, Loris remembers that he hasn’t taken out the recycling wheelie bins and jumps to his feet. Andres follows him outside to have a cigarette, Enzo heads to the toilets and, in less than a minute, Charles finds himself alone with Phoebe and Aliah, who instantly moves her chair closer to them.
‘So?’
‘What a tosser!’ Phoebe digs her claws into her can. ‘He’s seriously testing me.’
‘I told you.’
They both look at Charles, who frowns to fake being confused, reluctant to reveal his feelings to a tight group of chatterboxes.
‘Who?’
‘Monsieur Been there before you, Done that better than you.’
‘It’s hard to judge. I don’t know him.’
Phoebe raises a challenging eyebrow. ‘Do you want to?’
‘No. But I’m a bit antisocial.’
‘Come on, I’m sure you want to know us.’
‘He’s a pretentious jerk who has me wondering what type of spell he cast on Loris back in the day.
’ Aliah darts a glance at the ajar front door that has just creaked because of the wind.
‘And he’s messing him up. I know my boy, he doesn’t need to complain, it’s obvious he’s having the worst time.
Andres and I spent the evening with them, two days ago.
Loris was on edge from start to finish.’
‘That’s why we showed up tonight. To limit their time alone in the flat.’
‘I thought they were good friends?’
Phoebe scoffs bitterly. ‘So did Loris. But I guess the guy believed they’d be fuck buddies for a week.
As if Loris had just been waiting for a chance to shag him again.
As if he didn’t clearly draw the line at sleeping with him after his heart was broken and trampled on.
But that blockhead refuses to read the room and— Which is why you should come, Charles! ’ she exclaims when Aliah coughs.
‘Yes, I… I’ll try to make it to… that.’
Charles smiles, with no hope of being credible, unable to improvise like Phoebe just did, and overwhelmed by a flow of new concepts.
Enzo drops back onto his chair. ‘How long are we staying here?’
A heartbroken Loris.
‘As long as it takes,’ Aliah replies with a shrug.
Loris having the worst time.
‘For what?’
The flat turned into a harmful place.
‘Get drunk out of our minds and find the true meaning of life.’
Enzo all over Loris.
Charles shivers and stands up. ‘Personally, I’ll head off now.’
‘No!’
‘Why?’
‘Early start tomorrow.’
He can’t sort out the feelings roiling in his stomach, but his bubble has been infected beyond saving. Besides, if he gets drunk out of his mind, he won’t find any meaning. On the contrary.
He replies to Phoebe’s and Aliah’s disappointed pouts with an apologetic one. It’s reassuring that they seem to want to know him. They won’t criticise him the second he leaves the room. It’s important to be accepted by Loris’ chosen family.
‘You’re leaving?’
Charles locks eyes with Enzo for a couple of seconds, then pivots to face Loris. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, I need to get some sleep if I want to survive tomorrow.’
‘Don’t apologise for doing what’s best for you.’
Grateful, Charles pushes into Loris’ space as they make for the door. ‘Message me when you’re awake on Saturday. And tidy. That is, when your place is.’
‘Yeah, don’t expect me to look kempt. Dishevelled-Loris is the best Loris.’
‘I can’t compare, he’s the only one I’ve met. But I like seeing him.’
Loris smiles, the gap between his front teeth appearing for the first time tonight. He smiles, answer-providing, memory-inducing, heart-accelerating. Charles loops an arm around his shoulders and presses his nose against his jumper, not sure whether he wants to escape or record the vision.
‘You’re gonna be fine?’
‘Yes, don’t worry.’ Charles draws back and turns towards the table where the group is having a conversation that sounds artificial. ‘It was nice meeting you.’
‘Take care, man.’
‘See you soon?’
‘Bring your friends!’
After another look at Enzo, whose lips are sealed in a straight line, Charles brushes Loris’ hand to reclaim ownership of its powers.
Once outside, he takes a deep breath, like a diver about to go back underwater, and sets off for his house, rewinding the past hour.
It’s never wise to overanalyse a situation, but it will stop him from imagining what’s happening in the North Haven now that he’s gone. It will also postpone the return of the Charles he can’t handle and the screws in his throat.
When he enters his bedroom, his brain has become a motorised solar system model. Question marks are revolving at full speed around a sun with fond blue eyes and a half-moon smile, similar to those he drew as a kid.