Chapter 16
Agnes and Lauren’s guesthouse, West Hollywood, Los Angeles
My heart thumps in my chest, almost as loud as the hammering at the door.
Antoinette and I look at each other, the panic in her eyes no doubt a perfect mirror image of my own. We’ve both seen enough TV shows and movies to know a police knock when we hear one.
No normal person knocks like that.
‘Open up!’ It’s a man’s voice that comes echoing into the kitchen.
Lauren jumps up and disappears out of the kitchen. Agnes remains at the table, picking chicken off the bones on her plate.
She looks at me and smiles. ‘Wow, you’ve gone pale. Don’t look so worried! It’s just Cort. He thinks it’s a super funny way to let us know he’s here.’ She rolls her eyes, making it clear that she doesn’t think it’s funny in the slightest.
‘Cort?’ I say. Why do Americans have such weird names? Seriously. How can an entire country think that names like Cort and fucking Randy are absolutely fine?
‘Lauren’s boyfriend,’ Agnes says, and do I notice a hint of a scowl? ‘They’ve been together forever.’ She gives me a sly smile. ‘The best advice I can give you is to dissociate when he starts speaking.’
Antoinette pulls a face. ‘Really? Why?’
‘You’ll see,’ says Agnes, that smile still dancing on her lips.
At that moment Lauren walks back in draped over a man I assume is Cort. He’s tall, tanned and wearing jeans, a white T-shirt and a pink blazer. His dark hair is pulled back into a man bun.
I hate him on sight.
‘Hey, new girls,’ the man who is probably Cort says, nodding at me and Antoinette. ‘Lauren told me that she’s got some new roomies. Let me tell you what an absolute pleasure it is to meet you both.’ He comes over to us and makes a big deal out of shaking our hands. It feels very intense.
‘This is my man,’ Lauren says, pride dripping from her words. ‘Cortney William Goldman the Third.’
Cort laughs like she’s said the funniest thing he’s ever heard. ‘They don’t need to know all that,’ he says. ‘Please just call me Cort.’ As if we were going to spew out that word salad name anyway. ‘It really is so wonderful to meet you. Lauren says you’re from England?’
Antoinette and I nod in unison.
‘I love England,’ he says. ‘I’ve been lucky enough to visit several times. To do my talks.’
He stops speaking, clearly waiting for one of us to ask him about his talks.
There’s an awkward silence when no one says anything.
Lauren rushes to fill the silence. ‘Cort’s a podcaster,’ she says. ‘He’s pretty well known for it, aren’t you, babe?’
Cort looks faux-embarrassed. ‘I mean, I’m well known in the podcast industry, I suppose.’
Urgh. A podcast bro.
‘It’s called Man Enough to STFU,’ Lauren says excitedly. ‘Have you heard of it?’
Antoinette and I shake our heads.
‘No, sorry,’ I say, remembering that I should be polite. ‘I don’t really listen to podcasts.’
‘Me neither,’ Antoinette says and smiles apologetically.
‘What’s it about?’ I ask, trying to arrange my face into an expression that suggests I give a fuck.
Cort chuckles and sits down at the table next to Agnes. I swear I see her flinch. ‘Is there enough of this for me, babe?’ he says, already helping himself to chicken.
‘Go ahead,’ says Agnes in a tight voice.
‘What’s it about?’ he says. ‘What isn’t it about, more like. Isn’t that right, Lo?’
‘It’s a feminist podcast for men,’ Lauren says and I see Antoinette’s eyes widen in horror.
‘It’s for men who really want to be feminist allies,’ Cort says as Lauren serves him up some potatoes.
Oh.
He’s a feminist.
I guess that explains the man bun.
‘Oh, wow,’ says Antoinette. ‘Cool.’ She’s such a liar.
‘I don’t think of it as cool,’ Cort says. ‘I think of it as necessary.’ He gives my sister a condescending smile and I know she’s already mentally dismembering him. ‘I consider myself a conduit between the genders.’
‘He’s writing a book,’ Agnes tells us and from the barely there mocking tone in her voice, I can tell she gets it. I think I’m going to like this girl.
‘Are you?’ I say, turning to Cort, alight with fake fascination.
He gives a little humble shrug that I can imagine him practising in the mirror.
‘It’s less of a book and more of a bible,’ he says without any irony at all. I see Antoinette and Agnes exchange a look. Lauren is either oblivious to the mocking or is choosing to ignore it.
‘Wow, a bible,’ I say. ‘That’s quite something.’
‘He really is,’ Lauren says. ‘He’s always being invited to places to give talks.’
Cort nods in a way that can only be described as sagely. ‘It’s important in these times of such rampant toxic masculinity that men have a positive role model.’ He makes a hashtag sign with the two fingers of each hand and looks me directly in the eyes. ‘Not all men.’
I think I see Antoinette’s left eye twitch.
Lauren is gazing at him adoringly.
Agnes looks like she’s trying not to laugh.
‘That’s really great,’ I say, hoping I don’t choke on my lie. ‘Well done, you.’
‘I’m actually doing a talk locally next week,’ he says. ‘You girls—’ He stops, puts his hands in a prayer position and lowers his head. ‘Forgive me, you women should come along.’
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Sounds great.’ The lies are just sliding off my tongue.
Agnes makes a noise that I swear is a laugh, but she picks up her wine and glugs some. ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘Something went down the wrong way.’
‘I’ll find you on Insta and ping the details over,’ Cort says.
‘Looking forward to it.’
He turns and addresses Lauren. ‘Shall we head, babe?’
‘Yes, let me just grab my stuff.’ She jumps up and disappears out of the kitchen to where I assume her bedroom must be. Cort stands up, ready to follow her.
‘Apologies to run out. We’re going to a divine feminine sound bath,’ he says. ‘But I really look forward to talking to you both again soon. Namaste.’ He gives us a little bow and disappears after Lauren.
Antoinette and I do nothing but blink after him.
‘Is he always so delightful?’ I ask eventually when we hear the front door of the guesthouse close behind Lauren and Cort as they leave.
Agnes chuckles. ‘Oh yes,’ she says. ‘You won’t believe this but sometimes he can be even more delightful.’
My eyes widen.
I dread to think what this means.
Antoinette pulls a face packed with distaste. ‘What does she see in him?’
Agnes shakes her head. ‘Honestly who knows but he seems to make her happy so I’ve learned to tolerate him.’
‘How?’ Antoinette asks. ‘I must learn your secrets.’
‘Benzos,’ Agnes says. ‘Sometimes a little bit of weed. Although sometimes I think I need a full general anaesthetic to deal with him and his performative-ally shit.’ She gives us a little smile and puts her fingers to her lips.
‘Obviously don’t tell anyone, my folks would literally murder me, but if there’s anything you ever need, let me know.
I can get hold of most stuff.’ She grins again.
‘Happy to fill your party prescriptions.’
‘Maybe you should just drug Cort,’ I say and Agnes smiles darkly.
‘It’s crossed my mind.’
I head back to the villa a little after that, leaving Antoinette and Agnes chatting about a new Netflix series they’re both excited about, like they’ve known each other for ages. Like Antoinette hasn’t just murdered a celebrity and is storing him in Agnes’s parents’ cellar.
Life is weird.
And I need my bed.