Us by Nicholls David Read Free Book Online Page A

happen.’
    â€˜Oh.’ This struck me as unnecessarily blunt. ‘No, well, I suspected that.’
    â€˜Sorry, sorry, not because of you – you seem really, really nice – just because, you know, rebound and everything. I’m a bit …’
    A moment passed. ‘I presumed you were interested in—’
    â€˜Jake? God, no!’
    â€˜It seemed that way at dinner.’
    â€˜Did it? I’m sorry, I wanted to talk to you but he just wouldn’t stop and – Jake? Really, not for me. Can you imagine that flying through the air towards you, like a great hennaed bear, arms outstretched. I’d keep my hands deep in my pockets, safety net or no safety net.’ She poured red wine into the pint glass then gulped it down as if it were lemon barley water. ‘If I wanted a self-absorbed egomaniac, I’d call my ex.’ She pointed an unsteady finger at me. ‘Don’t let me call my ex!’
    â€˜I won’t.’
    There was a pause, and she smiled. Lipstick had been replaced by the black stain of the wine, and her dark fringe was now sticky with sweat. Pupils dilated, her eyes were wonderful. She tugged at the front of her dress. ‘Is it hot in here, or is it me?’
    â€˜It’s you,’ I said. I had been considering what it would feel like to kiss her, weighing this against what it would feel like to miss the last tube. The kiss felt possible, but it felt un-gentlemanly to take advantage of standards that had been chemically lowered. Which was clearly the case, because now she shivered and smiled and said:
    â€˜Please don’t misinterpret this, Douglas, but would you mind coming over here and just … holding me?’
    At which point a fiery ball of hair barrelled low into the kitchen, scooped her up and dangled her over his shoulder. ‘Are you hiding from me, little lady?’
    â€˜Actually, can you put me down please, Jake?’
    â€˜Scuttling away with Doctor Frankenstein …’ He was shifting her on his shoulder now, as if adjusting a roll of carpet. ‘Come and dance with me. Now!’
    â€˜Stop it, please!’ She seemed embarrassed, upset, her face red.
    â€˜Jake, I think you should put her—’
    â€˜Here, watch this. Can you do this, Doctor Frankenstein?’ And with an ease that would have been admirable if Connie had been willing, he tossed her into the air and caught her on the palms of his hands, his elbows locked so that her head bounced against the lightshade. Her black dress had ridden up and with one hand she tugged it down, the smile on her face fixed and mirthless.
    â€˜I said, put. Her. Down!’
    I could hardly believe the voice was mine, or indeed the hand that was now at arm’s length, brandishing a plastic spatula flecked with tuna pasta bake. Jake glanced at the spatula, then at me, then laughed, rolled Connie down to the ground and with a dainty big-top skip, left the kitchen. ‘Prick-tease!’ was his parting shot.
    â€˜I hope they take away your safety net!’ shouted Connie, tugging at her dress’s hem. ‘Conceited bastard.’
    â€˜Are you all right?’
    â€˜Me? I’m fine. Thank you.’ I followed her glance. The rubber utensil was still in my hand. ‘What were you planning to do with that?’
    â€˜If he didn’t put you down, I was going to make him eat something.’
    She laughed, rotated her shoulders and put her hand to her neck as if assessing the damage. ‘I feel terrible, I have to go outside.’
    â€˜I’ll come with you.’
    â€˜In fact …’ She put her hand on my arm ‘… more than that, I have to go home.’
    â€˜The tubes have stopped running.’
    â€˜That’s all right, I’ll walk.’
    â€˜Where do you live?’
    â€˜Whitechapel.’
    â€˜Whitechapel? That’s eight, ten miles away.’
    â€˜S’all right, I’d like to. I’ve got