18 the lady doth protest too much, methinks
18
the lady doth protest too much, methinks
Ava
Drunken encounter very much ignored, everything seems normal with Finn. If anything, he’s more unflappable than ever, pushing back against every borderline-disrespectful thing I say with nothing but a cheerful quip and a smirk. We get into a loose routine with his bucket list. Some weeks we squeeze in two items, other weeks one of us is too busy and we have to skip. We hit a pop-up vintage shop in Dalston, have a pint at London’s oldest pub, and I reluctantly agree to take bikes out for the shortest possible cycle around West London. Apparently you can, in fact, forget how to ride a bike.
One day we go to Greenwich with Julien and Finn crosses off two items in one fell swoop. First, we visit the Prime Meridian, where Finn takes an impossible amount of joy straddling the line and being in both the eastern and western hemispheres at once.
Then I leave the pair of them to it, letting Julien be Finn’s companion climbing the O2. Heights haven’t agreed with me since a particularly painful experience when Max and I were seven, involving a wall and, soon after, the pavement.
As I’m walking back from the station, Finn texts me a selfie from the top, eyes scrunched up in a smile with the satisfaction of someone who’s just reached the summit of Everest. His joy is infectious, and I have to make a conscious effort not to reflexively grin at my phone in response.
This is swiftly followed by a picture of Julien, who’s more photogenic than anyone should be in this situation, and an accompanying text.
finn: My favourite view ? ? ?
ava: get a room
finn: You would have loved this
ava: let’s not lie to each other Finn
finn: Fine fine
finn: I just wanted you to be jealous
ava: impossible
finn: Julien’s upset he couldn’t be your knight in shining armour
finn: He was hoping to protect you from the big scary heights
finn: Your height knight
ava: unless Julien has a substantial supply of horse tranquilliser he may need to put his chivalric dreams aside
He sends a photo of the actual view then. London sparkles under the sun, the Thames a ribbon of pale grey running through the city, the few skyscrapers poking out of the ground like they were dropped there by aliens. I’m not mad I skipped out; I’d have embarrassed myself up there, and I have a stoic reputation to maintain. But my heart swells just seeing the whole city from above. The more time I’ve spent exploring it recently, the more it’s felt like the place I could build something. The place I could really live.
I swipe back through the photos and land on the selfie Finn sent, and I’m sure it’s just some weird second-hand vertigo that makes my stomach fill with butterflies.
As we cross items off the list, I notice it isn’t getting any smaller.
‘This is new,’ I’d said to him as I was closing up yesterday, half putting things away, half looking at the list.
He grinned, and in that moment I realised he was definitely one of those kids at school who the teacher said had ‘a lot of potential, but distracts others’. ‘I know, I know, but I’ve had two dreams about bagels recently and then someone mentioned that shop in the office yesterday and it just felt like fate. I have to believe the universe was sending me a sign.’
So, this morning we squeezed in a visit to Beigel Bake on Brick Lane before work. As expected, Finn made appreciative noises with every bite of his bagel, and as expected, I had to politely ask him to shut up.
Just hours later, Finn’s ready for another item already. ‘What about eat dinner at a popular local restaurant ? When can we do that?’
‘There’s this restaurant in Covent Garden I went to once when I third-wheeled a date with Josie and Alina, but we need to wait for a day I’m on an early finish, because if you don’t get there early enough you end up at the shitty tables crammed against the wall. You want the window booths. They look across the whole piazza so you can people-watch.’ A new customer steps through the door and I say in a low voice, ‘And as you’re unbelievably nosy, you’d love it.’
His eyes light up in confirmation, before he steps aside to let the other customer place his order; a young guy who’s barely out of uni and always shifts nervously on his feet while he’s talking to me.
Unfortunately for him, after I’ve pushed his drink across the counter, he stumbles over his words; starting to say ‘lovely’, but switching to ‘thank you’ at the last second. So, as he picks up his cup, he gives me an enthusiastic, ‘Love you,’ instead.
His eyes widen and he goes beet-red before scurrying away to the straws, and I press my lips together in a futile attempt to hold back a laugh.
Finn approaches the till once the customer has left, shaking his head. ‘Poor guy. But I don’t blame him, you look good today.’
‘Shut up,’ I say, fully aware the ponytail I’ve been sporting for hours is very much askew.
‘What?’ He narrows his eyes and I realise he’s being serious. ‘I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of telling someone they look pretty. Watch.’ He calls over to the other end of the counter, ‘Mateo , te ves bien !’
My co-worker turns his face to hide a smile, and a playful glint reflects in Finn’s eyes when he looks back at me. This man is a menace.
‘Okay, well, you’re not allowed to say stuff like that to me.’ I don’t need any more ammunition for the next time we’re drunk in each other’s presence.
‘Your ever-increasing list of arbitrary rules is tiring me out.’
‘Your ever-increasing presence in my place of work is tiring me out, so I guess we’re even.’
This isn’t entirely true. I’d never admit it to him, but I’ve come to relish the way he breaks up the monotony of my time. He’s in the shop most days, sometimes in and out for a quick drink, but more often staying for hours, occasionally until closing. He claims it’s because the Wi-Fi’s fast and the smooth jazz playlist is soothing, but I imagine it’s because I’ve started to slip him free snacks and drinks.
And if I’m honest, it’s been kind of nice just letting myself be who I am with him. Maybe it’s just because I know his time here is temporary – I can’t scare someone off who’s already leaving. Or maybe it’s because nothing seems to get under his skin, and I’m beginning to wonder if anything ever could.
‘I quit.’
My head snaps up to find Mateo facing Carl; hands on his hips. I want to eavesdrop, but a customer comes in and completely ruins my fun. By the time I’ve finished serving them, Mateo’s back behind the counter with me, sharing the details. Predictably, Carl has left the shop to ‘run an errand’.
‘What’s the plan?’ I ask, refilling the coffee machine with beans and already dreading the fact I’ll probably have to work extra hours while they find his replacement.
‘I start my new job on Monday. Better pay, better hours, better manager, hopefully.’ He wipes the counter and continues, ‘I’m twenty-three; I’m too young to feel so angry at work all the time.’
All I can do is laugh. He might have a point.
‘You know, I’ll miss working with you. Especially when you say things to customers and they don’t know if you’re joking or serious. I hope my new co-workers play angry music on the speakers at the end of the day when the manager leaves, too.’
I blink a few times, taken aback. We’ve never chatted much, just worked alongside each other in efficient, civil harmony. I wonder if I could’ve made more of an effort, if perhaps we could’ve been friends. ‘Oh. Thanks. I’ll miss working with you too.’
He shrugs. ‘I hope they find a good person to work with you. Or that you find a better job than this.’ He lifts his head to the door, which has just opened with a new customer. ‘It’s your friend with the dog. We can swap lunch breaks and you can take yours now if you want to talk with her.’
He goes to clean a table with a smile. If I’m not mistaken, he’s in a better mood than I’ve ever seen him.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask as Josie approaches, Rudy leading her on the usual route to the counter. ‘You have a talk nearby?’
She’s looking peak Josie today – a seventies-print satin shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted trousers, half her hair pulled back with a claw clip. She’s even given Rudy a matching bandana in the same pattern as her top.
‘A meeting, but in an hour or so. I thought I’d drop in and see my favourite flatmate.’ She reaches down to Rudy’s level and whispers, ‘Don’t worry, she doesn’t need to know the truth.’
‘Well, speaking of favourites, your table’s taken, but the one to the right of it is empty. I’ll bring your drink over in a sec.’
Ten minutes later we’re settled at the table, me finishing off my panini and Josie dabbing her finger on her plate to pick up any remaining pastry crumbs from her cinnamon swirl.
I lean forward and lower my voice. ‘My co-worker is leaving.’
‘Was there drama? Please tell me there was drama.’
‘Kind of. He basically told Carl he’s a shit manager. Which is entirely true. I’m just really hoping whoever they bring in to replace him is decent, because I’ll end up having to train them.’
‘But you’re good at that stuff,’ she says, finally establishing there are no crumbs left on her plate to pick at. I huff and she says, ‘You are! You’re good at explaining things, and you’re always really patient whenever you’re showing me how to do something new. Which, to be quite frank, is completely at odds with the rest of your personality. Patient isn’t a word I would expect to use to describe you.’
‘Yeah, but you’re competent. It’s not a chore to teach you.’
‘What about when you let those kids from our building practise their face paint on you?’
‘I honestly just think kids flock to me because they know that they kind of freak me out.’
‘Or that time I was in here and you left me for half an hour to talk an elderly customer through emojis?’ She drops her voice at the end in case he’s nearby.
I’d forgotten about that day. I’d shown Stan-with-the-routine how to use emojis, taught him what some of them meant, explained when it was and wasn’t appropriate to use them, all because a little piece of my heart had throbbed when he’d told me he wanted to seem cool when he texted his grandchildren.
I’ve never thought about it before, but I suppose I see where she’s coming from. The tiniest bud of an idea takes root in my head, but I don’t know what to do with it right now, so I box it up and set it aside. ‘Fine, maybe you’re right.’
‘I usually am.’ She starts to yawn, covering her mouth with her hand as she does, always polite.
‘You’ve been working too hard.’ I take a sip of my drink and watch as she bites down a second yawn.
‘It doesn’t feel like work, that’s the problem. My EDI work – consulting, doing talks, sitting on panels, that feels like a job. It pays the bills, and it’s fulfilling on some level, but it’s not the dream. Doing this work at the gallery is a passion project. I mean, they pay me actual pennies , but it makes me feel like me .’
‘I’m not just saying this because you’re my best friend, but I really can’t wait to see what you’ve been working on.’
‘Speaking of!’ she exclaims, making both Rudy and me jump. ‘I completely forgot to tell you, we found out yesterday that we’ve been approved for the grant for the central piece in our exhibition.’
‘Seriously? The installation you came up with about the seasons?’
‘Yep. My little baby.’ She grins, eyes bright, the nerves she had when she first mentioned it seemingly out the window.
‘Josie, that’s amazing.’ I lean forward. ‘I know you told me not to ask you for details, but how’s it going?’
‘If you hear me wailing in my room one day, it’s gone terribly wrong. For now though, it’s looking good.’ Her smile drops and she narrows her eyes. ‘But I want it to be a surprise, so don’t ask me any more about it.’
‘My lips are sealed.’
‘Speaking of lips—’
‘Terrible segue.’
‘Thank you.’ She takes a single, dainty sip of her drink. ‘How are things with Finn?’
‘There are no lips involved when it comes to Finn. And there never will be any lips involved, for the record. That’s not what’s going on here.’
‘I believe you.’
‘It’s not like that at all. Don’t pull that face. You’re thinking the lady doth protest too much. But you’re wrong, because the lady doth protest a perfectly adequate amount for the situation in question, which, as it stands, requires a certain level of protestation.’
Josie doesn’t move a muscle during my monologue. You know, in hindsight, maybe the lady doth actually protest too much.
She nods slowly. ‘I said I believe you.’
‘You do?’ I rein in my surprise. ‘I mean, yeah, obviously you do. Because it’s true.’ It’s true. It is.
‘Sure. As long as he’s being a good friend to you?’ She tilts her head, the worry I’ve been scared of etched in the crease between her eyes.
I sigh, remembering how he walked me home in the rain, how he took me to the Barbican when I was grumpy and stressed, how he tried to set me up for an internship that sent me into a moderately sized spiral, but was overall a very nice thing of him to do. ‘Yeah. He’s being a really good friend, to be honest.’ Another reason I’m glad nothing ended up happening that night.
‘Good. He’d have me to answer to if he was being a dick.’ My heart pangs at her protectiveness. ‘You’re spending more time with him than me recently. I’m sorry I’m never home.’
‘You’ve been working hard being such a girlboss. ’
‘Please never say that again.’
‘What, girlboss? But you’re such a girlboss. The girliest girlboss.’
‘I hate it so much. Like, it’s a visceral thing, I feel it in my bones.’ I can’t hold my laughter in, and she joins me, swirling her straw around her cup and shaking her head. ‘You’re ridiculous. But I’m glad more people are getting to see the Ava I know. She’s my favourite.’
‘Yeah.’ I think of silly conversations on boats and laughter that lights up a room. ‘I’m glad too.’