Our Stop(11)

‘Listen,’ Emma said, using her fork to gesticulate. ‘Awful Ben. What a bastard, yes?’

Nadia scowled at the mention of his name. ‘Yes,’ she said, slowly.

‘You deserve love, and happiness, and everything your heart desires. Yes?’

‘… Yes.’

‘Right then. You’ve got to make that happen for yourself. You’ve got to put yourself in the way of your own fate. You’ve got to write back – of course the advert was for you!’

They were interrupted by the delivery of a garlic, parsley and bone-marrow flatbread, from a waiter with dancing eyes and plucked eyebrows.

‘Compliments of the chef,’ he said, and Emma replied, ‘Thank you, darling.’

She only ever called service people darling, sort of as a way to ingratiate herself into their favour and because in the reviewing industry nobody wanted a reputation as a miserable or rude customer. But also, Nadia thought, you could tell a lot about a person by how they treated service people: waiters and cleaners and doormen. Emma’s manners were always impeccable, whatever the motivation, and it made Nadia like her friend even more.

‘Uh oh,’ Emma said. ‘You seem grumpy. Why are you grumpy?’ She used her hands to tear up the bread, and licked welts of seasoned oil off her fingers and wrists once she was done.

‘I’m not grumpy!’ said Nadia, too brightly. Emma raised her eyebrows, knowing the minor changes in her friend’s moods better than she knew her own.

‘I’m not grumpy! I just …’ Nadia took a big gulp of white wine. ‘Just don’t bring up Awful Ben that way, okay? I can. You can’t.’

Emma nodded. ‘Fair enough.’

‘And also, don’t talk to Gaby about me. It feels like you’re ganging up on me. I’m excited and I’m scared and I need to feel like you’re on my team, not a team together.’

‘Right,’ said Emma, wide-eyed. ‘I hear you. Though, let the record show we are all on a team together. Team Nadia.’

Nadia suddenly felt guilty that she’d said anything. That hadn’t been the right moment to bring up Emma and Gaby talking about her. The two women finished the flatbread and emptied their glasses in silence. Hats off to Emma, she knew when to shut up and let Nadia have a bit of a wobble. And, at some point – not now, but at some point – Nadia would probably have to mention to one of them that sometimes how close Gaby and Emma had become bothered her.

It had been cool that the first time Emma came to after-work drinks she’d taken to Gaby so well. Emma was typically the jealous one, wanting Nadia all to herself. A typical only child, unpractised at sharing. But it was like the phrase ‘house on fire’ had been designed especially for Gaby and Emma. Nadia had sat there more or less mute as the two swapped outrageous dating stories and entered into a flirting competition with the wait staff. They’d never graduated to hanging out without her, but every time Nadia invited one out, the first question would always be if the other one was coming. Nadia knew it was childish to feel envious over how they’d clicked, but … well. She was envious at how they’d clicked. She’d been trying to see them separately just lately. Not that she’d made that clear out loud or anything. She didn’t want to seem immature.

Nadia let her temper calm down so that by the time their starter plates had been cleared and Emma said, ‘I still think you should put an advert up in response,’ Nadia was able to relax into herself and smile. She knew her friend only wanted what was best for her.

‘No!’ Nadia said, laughing. ‘Oh god! I just don’t think I can!’

Emma was impatient. ‘How are we going to find him then?’

‘I don’t know! Maybe I don’t even want to find him!’

‘Well, that’s bollocks,’ said Emma. ‘You’re a shit liar and I can tell that’s a lie.’ She poured them both more wine. ‘I can tell you’re gagging for it to be you. Look at you! Texting all maybe it is me! all day and then being moody tonight. You’re afraid to be excited. I see you.’

‘Oh shut up,’ Nadia said light-heartedly.

‘You’re going to have to be on the lookout. Like, on that 7.30 train every morning, the end near the escalators. That’s where you should start. Stake the joint out a bit. If it is for you, surely there will be a guy hopefully looking at you, all “Notice me! Notice me!”’

Nadia giggled. ‘Well, yes. That I can do.’

She twisted at the napkin in her lap.

‘And – I’m sorry for snapping about Ben. He really was just … awful. He used such horrible mind games to make me doubt myself, and make myself smaller. I lost myself to him. I’m glad that relationship happened because fucking hell I learnt so much, but …’ She absentmindedly fiddled with the cloth. ‘He ruined me. My head knows love is real and not all men are so horrible, blah blah blah. But my body. It’s like muscle memory or something. I get tense just hearing his name.’

Emma nodded, understandingly. ‘That’s a thing, you know.’

‘Getting tense at somebody’s name?’

‘Yeah. Muscle memory is a thing. We store trauma in our muscles and that’s why we get pain in our bodies sometimes: it’s old wounds in the fibres of our being.’