24 distinctly lacking in Vitamin D, in every way
24
distinctly lacking in Vitamin D, in every way
Ava
Josie and I lie on our stomachs on opposite ends of the picnic blanket; she’s listening to an audiobook while I pick at the grass, her face obscured by the brim of her massive hat, her lesser-used cane folded up next to her since she left Rudy at home by the fan in our flat.
‘Does anyone fancy a walk?’ Alina starts putting her shoes on from where she’s been basking in the sun a few metres away. When we decline, she gets to her feet and walks away, whipping out her phone to talk to someone in unintelligibly fast Spanish.
Even in the shade, I’m cooking from the inside; my jumpsuit saturating with sweat any time I stay in one position for too long. After rooting around my tote for my water, I drink half of it in one go, ignoring the sensible part of my brain that tells me I should ration it.
Watching Alina’s retreating form, a thought comes to me. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
Josie frowns, taking out her earbuds to say, ‘Did you say something?’
‘Yeah. Sorry.’ She places them in her case and props her chin on her palm when I start again. ‘Am I the reason you and Alina don’t live together? Are you scared to kick me out?’
She’s silent for a few moments and then bursts out laughing. ‘Oh god, no. If I wanted to live with Alina right now, I would. But she loves her flat and I love mine. Ours .’
‘But you’ll live together someday, right?’
‘I assume so,’ she shrugs, ‘but independence is really important for both of us. We have so much to do individually that we intentionally put a lot of time into working on ourselves. Because then we’ll be the best for each other too, you know?’
That’s emotionally mature, isn’t it? Meanwhile, I’m out here drinking with a stranger to get in his pants and then proceeding to run away. As if she’s read my mind, she continues. ‘Your way isn’t wrong, by the way. It’s just different from mine. It works for you.’
We’re silent until the truth slips out of me, so quiet it’s almost lost amongst the breeze that rustles the leaves above us. ‘I don’t know if it is working, actually. I’ve been feeling kind of weird about it recently. I think I might be done with one-night stands, for now.’
Josie nods and, the way she always does, patiently waits for me to elaborate. I look out across the common, squinting in the sun. I can just about see a group of boys playing football, and it reminds me of how my parents used to drag me to watch Max play for the local team every Sunday as kids.
‘Did you know it’s been six years since everything happened with Max? He texted me last night. It’s the first year I’ve forgotten.’ She lets me turn my thoughts over before I speak again. ‘I can’t believe I had to be reminded.’
‘Was he upset with you for forgetting?’
‘No. He’s always wanted us to move on.’ I relish the next breeze that passes. ‘It’s just taken six years for things to stop feeling so precarious. I almost feel like I can trust my footing again.’
‘So it could be a good sign you forgot. Your brain is telling you to move forward.’
‘I think that’s it. And I think maybe I want to try something a little more permanent.’ Embarrassment turns my cheeks pink at this admission, but Josie doesn’t laugh, or tell me I’m ridiculous. Of course she doesn’t.
‘What would that look like for you?’
‘To start with,’ I say, plucking at the grass, ‘I dunno. Just meet a guy and hang out more than once and see how it goes? It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.’
‘What if there’s someone in your life already?’
‘That wouldn’t work, Josie. For a multitude of reasons.’
She shifts up on to her elbows. ‘Explain it to me.’ She takes a family bag of crisps out of her bag and holds it open in my direction.
‘Because . . .’ I take a few crisps and gesture vaguely into the air as I think it through.
Because he’s leaving soon.
Because I keep people out in order to preserve what little control I have.
Because in my heart, I know I’m not right for someone like him. I’m not warm or loving or open, and he deserves someone who can be everything he deserves. I hope he finds that one day.
I let my lungs empty before I tell her the most important reason. ‘Because we really are friends. And I don’t have many of those. I don’t want to lose that.’
Like she’s done many times in my presence, with those eyes pooled with ever-flowing wisdom, she says simply, ‘Okay.’ She grabs a crisp and nibbles the edges. ‘You’ve been happier than I’ve seen you in a while. Getting out more. I think having Finn in your life is good for you.’
I don’t have the heart to tell her that this job he’s trying to get is on the other side of the world, not when she’s finally stopped worrying about me. ‘I think so too.’
‘Should I be offended that the minute I got too busy with work, you found someone else to spend all your free time with? Maybe you just never wanted to hang out with me.’
‘I will always want to hang out with you.’ Through a crisp-filled mouth, I add, ‘Even if you’re someone who willingly chooses ready salted crisps as opposed to literally any other, better flavour crisp.’
She pulls the bag back from me with a laugh just as Alina returns.
‘What did I miss?’ she asks, flopping down on Josie’s other side.
‘Ava’s on the hunt for someone to date. Like, actually date-date.’
Alina digs around the crisp packet and, like a normal person, grabs a fistful and launches them into her mouth in one go. ‘Any candidates?’
‘I was chatting to a guy on Hinge this morning.’ I take out my phone to find him. He’s not my usual type, but that could work in my favour. I need a change. ‘He’s a climber. Very into . . . climbing things, I guess. Loves adventure.’
‘Sounds just like you,’ Alina deadpans.
‘I’ll have you know I like adventure. I live for it.’
‘Going to big Tesco instead of Aldi is not an adventure,’ Josie points out.
I flick a beetle off my leg with a squeal. ‘I can be outdoorsy. I’ve been doing the same kinds of dates on repeat, so when he suggested I join him for a climbing session, I agreed.’ Josie’s wary expression worsens when I add, ‘I might have told him I also climb.’
She sighs. I’ve noticed she sighs a lot before starting her sentences to me. ‘Why would you tell him that?’
‘How hard can it be? Everyone’s doing it nowadays.’
‘You’re a very capable woman, Ava.’
‘I sense a “but” coming.’
‘But I wouldn’t necessarily say you have the best hand–eye coordination. In fact, I’m pretty confident in saying you have the worst coordination of anyone I know.’
‘Please, tell me how you really feel.’
Max is sporty, so surely there’s some hint of athleticism coded in my genes too.
Suddenly, the boys playing football yell, ‘Heads!’
A fraction of a second later a football comes flying our way.
While Josie and Alina do the sensible thing and clutch their heads like they’re in the brace position on an aeroplane, I try to catch the ball, but it slides past my fingertips to land just behind our blanket. By the time I’ve picked it up, the person it belongs to has already started to jog over to our spot in the shade.
The moment he spots me, his mouth drops open in a perfect ‘o’.
Whenever Finn stands in direct sunshine, I wonder if it grew him. I can almost imagine him, incubated by a warm glow, growing into a human from the tiniest seed of light.
I sent my last text to him this morning and proceeded to mute notifications because I didn’t want to read his reply. For some reason I said ‘the ladies love stubble’. Looking at him now, backlit by the sun, hair tousled from playing football, I can confirm that yeah, it’s me, I’m ladies. God, it should be illegal to look put-together on a day as hot as this.
‘Hi,’ I say, launching the ball back to him. Even though it was the throw of a dizzy three-year-old, he catches it smoothly.
‘Hey,’ he says quietly. He’s not wearing his glasses, so I can better see the way his smile illuminates his whole face, stretching upwards into the wrinkles around his eyes. Then, noticing Josie and Alina, he adds, voice clearer and brighter, ‘Josie! I don’t know if you remember me—’
Josie lights up and says, ‘Finn! This is my girlfriend, Alina. Alina, this is Ava’s Finn. I mean, Ava’s . . .’
‘Friend?’ I suggest as she trails off.
‘Nice to meet you,’ he replies, raking a hand through his hair to get it off his forehead. ‘Do you mind if I sit?’
‘Go ahead,’ I say, offering him a small smile of my own.
Someone calls his name, and he looks over his shoulder to yell, ‘I’m done! I’ll melt if I play for any longer.’
There’s a chorus of boos behind him and he shakes his head with a chuckle before folding on to the grass opposite me, legs outstretched and bent at the knee. I slide back down into a lying position and am briefly aware of his eyes dropping to the neckline of my jumpsuit.
I make the mistake of glancing over at Alina, whose mouth is twitching, and I resume my mindless picking of the grass.
‘Hey, you guys are matching,’ she points out. I look down at myself and then at Finn, both in a khaki-green linen. Although, while I’m about five minutes away from sweating through mine, his shirt billows around him like there’s a wind I’m not privy to.
‘Were you really playing football in a button-up?’ I ask.
‘I didn’t plan to, someone just had a ball and I joined in.’ Finn’s eyes roam over my jumpsuit, looking for an exit. ‘How do you even pee in that thing? I don’t understand it.’
‘With immense difficulty,’ I sigh. ‘And you don’t need to understand it. It’s for the female gaze only.’
‘You can just call us lesbians, you know,’ Josie quips.
As the rest of us laugh, another familiar figure appears behind Finn, crisps in one arm, bottles clinking in the bag on his opposite shoulder.
‘Room for one more?’ Julien asks.
Once fresh introductions have been made and Julien’s deposited their drinks and snacks, we all shift into a circle around the blanket like we’re worshipping at a makeshift shrine of G & T cans, Kettle chips and Tesco sweet chilli hummus.
‘Please don’t tell me you’re one of those men who takes his top off in public,’ I say to Finn, who’s fanning himself with his own collar. The only evidence of the heat on him is the damp hair sticking to the back of his neck. Not for the first time, I wonder if he functions within an entirely different weather system from me.
‘Absolutely not,’ he replies, opening a can with deft fingers and sipping the drink with a soft sound of contentment. I’m sure the disappointment I feel is because he picked the final elderflower G & T I had my eye on, not because of his answer.
‘I am, though.’ Julien lifts the bottom of his shirt, watch glinting, and I look approvingly. He has a habit of looking like he’s shooting an advert for luxury jewellery everywhere he goes.
‘Put that away,’ Finn says, setting his can on the blanket and leaning back on his palms. Then he glances back at his friend’s stomach, tilting his head and adding, ‘Okay, but I get it.’
Thankfully, Julien reins in the obnoxiousness and doesn’t actually remove his clothing, but it’s enough for us to settle into an easy flow of conversation.
‘What’s next on your bucket list?’ Alina asks.
‘I usually let Ava take charge, but maybe you can help pick the next thing.’ Finn hands her his phone, forever comfortable giving his life away to someone else.
While Alina’s scrolling, Finn takes another sip. Still wishing I’d grabbed that last elderflower instead, I watch his throat move as he swallows, and analyse the veins on the hand that grips the sweating can. His eyes drop to mine, and it makes me feel like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. He holds my gaze for a beat before silently setting the can next to me and diving back into the pile to find a new one for himself.
‘Oh!’ Alina exclaims, interrupting my ogling. ‘Outdoor swimming?’
Finn’s nose wrinkles as he takes his phone back. ‘I dunno, for that one I was thinking of just taking the train to the coast somewhere. I assumed Ava wouldn’t wanna join in with something like that.’
I’m thankful I’ve spent our entire friendship demonstrating a lack of desire to partake in any activity that the average person may constitute as exercise. And yet, a voice that sounds suspiciously like my own says, ‘Have you been to any of the lidos?’
‘The what-nows?’ Finn asks, his arm brushing mine as he moves to lie on his stomach next to me.
‘The lidos. You know.’
‘Repeating it doesn’t make me understand it, Ava,’ he replies patiently.
‘They’re outdoor swimming pools,’ Josie offers. ‘London has a few.’
Finn looks up in surprise. ‘London has outdoor pools?’
‘I believe that’s what Josie just said, yes,’ I reply.
‘Huh.’ He is, as expected, unrattled. ‘Then let’s go.’
‘We can’t “just go”,’ I say. ‘It’s a whole mission, especially on hot days.’
‘You’ve got to make sure you’ve staked out your place before the rush,’ Alina explains. ‘And ideally you want enough people to swap out between the pool and the sliver of ground you’ve claimed on the edge.’
‘I’ve always wanted to go,’ Julien says, grabbing a crisp from the centre of our picnic shrine.
‘Then let’s do it! Next Saturday, Finn, if you’re free?’ Josie’s buzzing. I, on the other hand, am suddenly regretting bringing the lidos up.
‘I’m free. Julien, are you?’
‘Me too. Ava?’
I grunt in agreement.
‘Brockwell Lido is closer, but I prefer Tooting,’ Alina says, sifting through our stash to find another can to pass to Josie.
‘Tooting it is, then,’ Finn says with a nod. ‘Toot-toot.’
‘Don’t do that,’ I mutter.
We’re still eating and drinking our way through our stash when I remember I have something for Finn.
‘There. All corrected.’ I place the stack of his printed presentation and handouts between us on the blanket as the others chat amongst themselves. ‘When I used to help Max with his homework, he always found it easiest to read from yellow paper. I know you said you weren’t sure if you were dyslexic too, but I figured I’d try printing on a few colours for you just in case it helps.’
‘You printed all of this for me?’ His eyes are bright as he leans closer to grab the pile.
It’s only when he starts flipping through the thick wad of pages that I realise I may have gone slightly overboard at the printing shop, and embarrassment threatens to take over. ‘It was nothing. We’re one of approximately seven millennial households in the UK that has a printer.’ Josie’s head snaps up from her conversation with Alina and Julien, and she opens her mouth to refute my lie, but I scramble to my feet before she can say anything. ‘Does anyone want an ice cream? I’m going to get us ice cream.’
‘I’ll come,’ Finn says, moving to get up too.
‘I’ll be fine. Ninety-nines for everyone all right? And a Calippo for you, Alina?’ I don’t even wait to hear the replies before I grab my purse and scurry towards the ice cream van that I know is waiting by the entrance of the park, squinting against the brightness as I stride across the grass.
‘Ava,’ Finn calls, catching me up easily. ‘Can you stop for a sec?’ I slow down and he hands me the sunglasses I left on the blanket, which I reconcile with my face immediately. ‘The pages you printed for me. Even if it was no effort, I really appreciate it.’ He steps forward and lifts my glasses so he can look directly into my eyes for a second. ‘Thank you.’