Chapter 22
On the last stretch to Wei’s from the tube, she found herself walking alongside a slow-moving funeral cortège. A string of cars glinting like black pearls crawled along the street. A Fulham crest made from flowers was leaned up against a coffin festooned in Dad and Brother floral tributes. At least his family had the small comfort of knowing there was one less Cottagers fan in the world. She subconsciously crossed herself, a liturgical hangover from a Catholic mum who loved the drama of ingratiating herself into other people’s sorrow.
Inside Wei’s flat, a portable air-con unit was cranked up to eleven, yet still her skin prickled with the echo of the heat outside. As Wei fussed around, his miniature dachshund Otto trotted in wearing a small straw hat on its head and a sorry look on its face.
‘Just because you once worked in a dungeon,’ she said, ‘doesn’t mean you can torture a little sausage in this way.’
‘I need someone to take care of him for a few days when we go to Pride in Amsterdam. Want to volunteer?’
‘No.’
‘I told David you’d say that. He wondered if the hat might help swing the deal.’
‘It did. In the wrong direction.’
Otto dropped his bottom the full two inches it needed to travel to reach floor level, then dropped his head onto his paws.
‘It’s okay, baby,’ said Wei. ‘We’ll get you signed up to Borrow My Doggy.’
‘Why would anyone want to actively care for a dog that isn’t their own?’
‘You don’t need to possess something to get pleasure from it.’
Marcus scampered into her thoughts. She was seeing him tomorrow, although she still hadn’t entirely forgiven him for leaving her high and wet the last time they’d chatted.
‘It’s called unconditional love,’ said Wei. ‘You should try it sometime.’
‘Love is always conditional.’
He pulled over his nail cart. ‘What is it today then?’
Her nails were an absolute mess from all the cleaning she’d done.
‘Maybe back to natural for now.’
‘If you wear gloves, the lacquer should be okay.’
She hadn’t forgotten what Gayle had said. ‘No. I’ll get them redone in a few weeks.’
The bowl of water he soaked her fingers in was refreshingly cool and smelled of rosemary and peppermint. She lay back and breathed in its soothing aromas.
‘How’s things at the shelter?’ he asked.
She told him a little about what she’d been up to. ‘I’m not sure whether I’m out of my comfort zone or out of my depth. I don’t know how to handle them.’
‘They’re not poisonous snakes. They’re just people like us.’
She told him a little more about Hozan, Tasha and Steve. ‘They’re definitely not like us.’
He removed her hands from the water and towelled them off. ‘What about the staff? Are they all hippies?’
An image of Gayle flashed through her head. ‘Not really, no.’
Wei began snipping away at her cuticles. The peppermint stung the remaining skin, but not unpleasantly.
‘There is this one guy…’
‘Is there now?’
‘No, I don’t mean like that.’ She described her early run-ins with Jasper, surprised by the amount of detail she recalled.
‘OMG. You already have history!’
‘Hmm. I can’t work him out.’
‘Like a puzzle you want to undress?’
‘I don’t fancy him.’
‘He sounds fanciable.’
‘He works in a homeless shelter, Wei. He’s not exactly operating in my league.’
‘And you don’t do nice guys.’
‘I wouldn’t say he’s nice, exactly.’
As Wei filed and buffed her nails, she recounted all of Jasper’s digs, which she could also recall in full technicolour. He was definitely funny, but it was more than that.
‘Most guys, they recount some crap they’ve read in a Substack newsletter and assume they’re smart. But he really thinks about things and puts the time in to form his own opinions.’
‘It sounds like you’ve been thinking about his thing quite a lot,’ he cackled.
The dog pricked up its straw hat. Had she? It was probably because she had nothing more mentally strenuous to get her head into.
‘I’m not interested in him. I just find him interesting.’
‘Isn’t that how it starts?’
Wei picked up a bright vermillion polish and waved it at her. ‘Shall I at least do your toenails?’
She nodded her approval. He unscrewed the bottle and set to work.
‘Are you not a little bit tempted?’
‘He doesn’t go for girls like me.’
‘What, bitches?’
She prodded him with her free foot. ‘Do you think I’m a bitch?’
‘No.’ He seemed uncertain.
She frowned.
‘Stop that. You’ll get wrinkles.’
‘Do you think I need Botox?’
‘The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. But the second-best time is now.’
‘So that’s a yes?’
‘I’m kidding! You shouldn’t have Botox.’
She smiled, satisfied.
‘How would you be able to do those withering looks of yours if you did?’
She kicked him again, causing him to smudge her last toe. When he’d sorted it out, he spoke again.
‘So, have you got a picture of him?’
‘Who, Jasper? No!’
‘I’ll Google him,’ he said. ‘What’s the name of the place?’
She doubted he’d turn anything up, but gave him the details. She lay back again and listened to the gentle snores of the dog whilst her toes dried. Wei sniffed loudly. She glanced across. He had tears in his eyes.
‘What’s wrong?’
He passed the phone to her. There was a picture of Hozan, wearing a cap and sunglasses, but unmistakably him, stood on one side of his far-less-filthy car. On the other side, looking apologetically awkward but unapologetically gorgeous, was none other than resident psychologist and Mr Do-Gooder himself, Jasper. She read the article. The gist of it was that Hozan was a vulnerable refugee for whom the shelter didn’t have enough room, and so Jasper had put an appeal out on social media for a tent in which they could temporarily house him. Someone had come forward to ask if their about-to-fail-its-MOT car might offer a more secure solution, and so Hozan had moved into the car park, still able to avail himself of the shelter’s day services.
‘I’m in love,’ said Wei.
‘I can’t believe you’re taking the side of someone you’ve not even met!’
‘Who said I’m taking sides? What a sweetheart though. And what about the guy who gave him a car…’ He theatrically wiped away another tear.
‘Ah well, if you were to speak to Jasper, he’d probably say something like he had no choice but to become a good person because it was a natural consequence of everything that had gone before, and therefore doesn’t deserve too much credit. That’s ridiculous, right?’
‘Dolly says be whatever your dreams – and luck – lets you be.’
‘You don’t buy the you can’t help the way you turn out bollocks too, do you?’
‘I couldn’t help being gay. And trust me, I tried.’
‘But that’s genetic.’
‘Maybe it all is?’
‘You sound just like him!’
‘So he’s deep, kind and good-looking. Tell me why you don’t like him again?’
‘Because … oh, forget it. I can’t describe it.’
‘You sure you’re not just upset because he’s out of your league?’
‘No. I’m out of his league.’
‘Babe. You’re hot, but…’ He struggled for the right words. ‘It’d be like Cruella De Vil trying to bang Gandhi.’
‘I don’t want to sleep with him. I just want him to want to sleep with me.’
‘You see. That’s a crazy thing to say. But don’t worry, he’d probably say you can’t help being a mad bitch.’
‘You said I wasn’t a bitch!’
Otto jumped up and whimpered.
‘It’s okay, baby.’
Wei picked him up, removed the hat, and planted a huge kiss on the dog’s head. She leaned across and fussed him too. She knew Wei was exaggerating for comic effect, but the use of the word bitch niggled at her in a way it might not have done previously. So she wasn’t the simpering, nurturing type. That didn’t make her a bad person; it just made her a different person from the one society expected her to be.
‘Supposing I wanted to do something thoughtful to prove him wrong about me,’ she said.
‘You can’t do a nice thing just to prove someone wrong. It cancels it out.’
‘He’d probably say that if the net effect was good, that’s what counts.’
Wei looked into the dog’s eyes. ‘She’s also spent a long time thinking about what he’d say, eh Otto?’
She frowned.
He motioned to her forehead. ‘Maybe you do need Botox?’
The door buzzer sounded. Otto wriggled in Wei’s hands. He put him down and the dog ran out of the room.
‘That’s my next appointment. Go on. Get out.’
She heard David answer the door and invite whoever it was into the lounge to wait. Wei picked up the bowl and ushered her out of the room ahead of him.
‘They’re just people who want to be treated as such. When I first came out, people treated me like I was an alien. Like they believed my feelings weren’t the same as theirs, that I didn’t care about being called names. The whole time I just wanted to be seen as me.’
Simone had experienced something similar when her dad died. Not able to understand, or not wanting to, her friends had given her a wide berth, her grief somewhat harshing the vibe of being sixteen and wanting to drink own-label vodka and get titted-up behind the bike sheds. She opened the front door and stepped onto the communal walkway between the flats. The heat enveloped her in its clammy clutches.
Wei was still holding the bowl. Faint rainbows danced on the water’s surface. ‘For them, it’s the same,’ he said. ‘They’ll just want to feel normal again. So help them feel normal.’