Chapter Twenty
To Erin’s disappointment, Riley spent the next few minutes telling the group all the things she loved about Chegs.
‘He keeps me grounded, because I can get, like, pretty over-excited, and that’s not cool.
’ It sounded very much like she was justifying her relationship to herself as much as everyone else.
‘So, he’s actually really good for me,’ she said in conclusion.
Erin wanted to tell her what she’d described wasn’t the basis of a healthy, loving relationship.
As Adam said, Chegs should be her greatest fan.
Instead, she seemed grateful he liked one in five of her videos and showed her he loved her by having the odd jealous tantrum.
But then, what did Erin know? She’d only ever had one long-term relationship, and look how that turned out.
‘I apologise,’ said Adam. ‘I was completely out of order. I had no right to say what I did.’
‘S’all right,’ said Riley. ‘No worries.’ Luckily for Adam, Riley wasn’t the kind of person to be easily offended or hold a grudge.
That’s why Erin was surprised about her response to Teagan.
The girl must’ve really ruffled her to elicit that level of negativity from Riley, who was now scanning the group, back to her normal, cheerful self. ‘What have I missed, people?’
They filled her in on Susan and Mercy’s news and she high fived them both before turning to Joe. ‘And what’s your news, old man?’
‘Less of your cheek,’ said Joe, grinning at her. ‘I do have a snippet, actually.’ He lay his hands flat on the chair’s arms as if bracing himself. ‘I’ve joined a dating site.’
‘No way?’ Riley lifted out of her seat, her hand aloft. She slapped her palm against Joe’s. ‘Go you.’
‘It’s called London Seniors and when I say I’ve joined, I’ve downloaded the app on my phone and paid the subscription. I haven’t added my profile yet. I was hoping you lot might help me with that.’
‘Hell, yes,’ said Riley, shifting to the edge of her seat. ‘What’s your handle going to be?’
‘I was thinking about Jazz-hands Joe. It has a nice ring to it, and it says something about me, don’t you think?’
‘Hm.’ Riley glanced around the group. ‘Are you looking for women, or men?’
Joe frowned. ‘Women. I have nothing against men, but I have no attraction to them physically.’
‘Then maybe leave off the jazz-hands.’ Riley screwed up her face. ‘It sounds a bit queer, which is cool, but if you’re not into—’
‘Queer?’ Mercy said, her expression confused. ‘That’s a slur, isn’t it?’
‘Not anymore,’ said Susan, with authority.
‘It’s been reclaimed by the LGBTQ+ community.
Bella and Sophia both identify as queer.
They explained it to me as having a sexual identity that isn’t heterosexual and maybe a gender that isn’t …
’ She tapped her temple. ‘What is it? Cisgender, or something.’ She sounded less sure now.
‘Anyway, we’re allowed to say it, as long as we don’t mean it negatively, apparently. ’
‘Right,’ said Mercy. She turned to Joe. ‘You don’t strike me as queer.’
‘I’m a bit old to start trying all that,’ he said. ‘Better to stick with what I know.’ He tickled Tybalt under his chin, and addressed the cat. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, my friend?’ Tybalt clearly enjoyed the scratch and stretched his neck so far it looked like he might fall over backwards.
‘Maybe jazz hands isn’t ideal, then,’ said Erin.
‘It reminds me of Jack in that sitcom, Will & Grace.’ She had an idea.
‘What about Bass-notes Joe? That’s quite masculine, if that’s what you’re after.
’ It seemed odd to be talking about what sounded queer or masculine on a dating app with a man who was like a father to her.
Maybe she wasn’t as comfortable with the idea of him looking for love as she thought she was.
She had a quiet word with herself. This wasn’t about her.
If it was what Joe wanted, then she would support him all the way.
Joe’s eyes twinkled. ‘I like that.’ He brought a folded piece of paper and a pen from the breast pocket of his shirt, rested it on the chair arm, and began to make notes. He raised his head. ‘What should I say about myself?’
‘Widowed is probably relevant,’ said Susan. ‘I imagine people would want to know your relationship status.’ She turned to Riley. ‘Is that what you call it?’
Riley nodded. ‘And list your interests.’
‘Okay. Jazz music, double bass, reading.’ Joe wrote in spidery handwriting that Erin recognized from years of birthday and Christmas cards.
Nuala and Joe were the kind of people who always wrote thoughtful messages, rather than letting whatever was printed inside the card do the talking for them.
Erin had kept each and every one. They were in a box alongside those from her parents in the bottom of her cupboard. ‘Book group. What else?’
‘You’re already doing better than most,’ said Erin.
‘I remember trying to write my personal statement when I was applying for university. I was one of those saddos who wrote reading, swimming, and socialising. That’s why I made Jack try out all the extra-curricular activities he could.
Gold Duke of Edinburgh sounds a lot better than socialising on a CV.
’ She sighed. ‘Not that it seems to be doing him much good at the moment.’
‘The job hunt isn’t going well, then?’ said Hafsa.
‘Nothing’s come up yet.’
‘Oh, love. You never stop worrying about them, do you?’ said Joe.
Erin swallowed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to change the subject. Let’s get back to your profile.’
Joe folded the paper up and tucked it away in his pocket. ‘You’ve set me on the right track. I’m going to give it some more thought and perhaps run it by you before I make it live, if that’s okay?’ he said.
‘Totally here for that. And take a look at what other nannas have put on theirs,’ said Riley, winking at Joe, who gave her a pretend hard stare.
‘That’ll give you an idea of what people are looking for.
’ She turned to Erin. ‘I’ll miss Jack when he gets a full-time job.
I’ve loved working with him. He’s a right laugh.
Even though I’m only a few years older than him, I thought of him as a scrawny kid when I started working here, and now he’s a fully fledged grown-up. Makes a girl feel old.’
‘Imagine how I feel,’ said Erin. ‘In my head he’s still a little boy, and now he’s talking about his future career prospects.
’ Images of Jack as a toddler, holding his pudgy hands out when he wanted to be lifted into her arms, stopped her in her tracks.
What she wouldn’t give to be able to lift him up and cradle him now.
But that was wrong. He was a man, and she knew in her heart of hearts she wanted to cling to him partly because she was frightened of the future, and that wasn’t right.
‘He’s probably getting a bar job in the meantime,’ she said.
Maybe she was strong enough to tell them about The Bookmark’s future.
She opened her mouth to speak, but felt tears well in her eyes.
Bursting into tears would be embarrassing, especially with Adam there.
And they were all feeling positive about their next steps.
Now wasn’t the time, she decided. She told herself it wouldn’t be fair to bring the mood down by telling them how dire the next chapter of her own life looked, when really she knew it was cowardice, not consideration on her part.
‘He needs more hours than I can give him.’ She felt an urgent need to shift the focus away from her.
‘Talking of kids, Hafsa, how’s Zahra doing? ’
‘Not bad at all,’ said Hafsa. She was as beautifully dressed as ever, in wide-legged trousers and a boat-necked black top with white stitching detail around the bottom hem and sleeves.
‘In fact, I think we’ve come to a new understanding.
I’ve shared the stuff I’ve learned through reading up on what it’s like to be a teenage girl with autism, and she’s been more open about what’s going on in her head.
’ She smoothed out an invisible crease in her trousers.
‘I asked her to write some of it down and she stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
But that evening I was watching our famous friend—’ she gestured to Riley, who gave a little bow ‘—on Tiktok, and then a video of a woman who looked to be in her early twenties came up. She was talking about getting an autism diagnosis recently and started to list all the traits she wished she’d known about years ago, like the fact that loads of people with ASD are good with words, even though people presume they’re bad at communicating. ’
‘I didn’t know that,’ said Adam. ‘I thought that was an issue if you were autistic.’
‘Me too,’ said Susan.
‘You see, this is where it gets complicated,’ said Hafsa.
‘Hyperlexia, the ability to read early and a strong interest in letters and numbers, isn’t that uncommon in autistic kids, but it can mean they don’t understand the meaning as well, or what the words are meant to communicate.
’ She took a breath. ‘Or it can mean they’re gifted in reading and comprehension and incredibly articulate.
This is the trouble. Everyone’s experience of the condition is different. ’
‘Blimey. There’s a lot to learn,’ said Susan.
‘So much,’ said Hafsa. ‘And the more people share their experiences, the more we can start to understand, so I asked Zahra how she felt about making a video diary.’ She held out her hand.
‘Not for public consumption. We won’t be sharing it anywhere, but to help her make sense of the way she experiences the world, and to help me and Amir and the rest of the family understand her a bit better. ’
‘That’s a great idea,’ said Riley. ‘Completely understand why you don’t want to share it, though. The trolls on my page are vile.’
‘You get trolled?’ Erin was shocked. It had never occurred to her to scroll through the comments on Riley’s posts.
She’d always presumed everyone would be as impressed by her friend’s talent as she was.
Now, she realized how naive that was. She lived in a bubble of her own making and had done for years.
Riley snorted. ‘All the fucking time. You’ll be surprised to learn not everyone in the world is a big fan of outspoken feminist voices being amplified.’
‘Idiots,’ said Adam. ‘Keyboard warriors are the worst. I get plenty of nasty comments online whenever my stuff’s posted too. Some people shouldn’t be allowed access to the internet, not without passing some kind of moral compass test first.’
He was a fine one to talk about moral compasses. ‘What happened to that piece you were writing about Lebanon and Terry Waite, the one you asked me about?’ She felt brave for reminding him he had asked for her help and not followed up on it. Men in glass houses, she thought, piously.
‘I put it aside when … actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,’ he said. ‘Could we have a chat after book group?’
That? Was he talking about the article, or the thing he’d wanted to chat about when he asked her to go for that walk in Greenwich Park?
She tried to keep her mind from wandering as the others discussed the books they were reading to help with their last pages, but it was no use. Adam had piqued her interest, damn him.