Love Your Life(82)

“Where does he live?” I ask mischievously, and Nell snorts with laughter.

“Five minutes from Golders Green tube,” says Sarika, lifting her chin. “You can mock me, but I know this guy. I know what podcasts he listens to, and I know what he would put in a time capsule on the moon. And I agree with every single choice.”

“Well, great.” I hug her. “Can’t wait to meet him.”

I sling everyone’s coats and bags onto the leather footstool, whereupon Matt silently opens the coat cupboard and hangs them up.

    Oh, right. Yes. Somehow the coat cupboard never occurs to me; in fact, I forget it exists.

“Wow,” says Sarika, clocking the sculpture with the outstretched hands. “That’s…In the flesh, it’s even more…challenging.” I can see her trying to overcome her revulsion, and I shoot her a grateful smile.

We had a little WhatsApp exchange yesterday in which I explained how sensitive Matt is about his art. The whole squad said they understood and promised fervently to be positive about it. But now they’re here, I can see everyone struggling. Maud did a double take as soon as she entered, and I’ve seen Nell snort once or twice.

“It’s definitely challenging,” says Maud. “But, then, art should be challenging,” she adds quickly.

“It really is,” says Nell, walking up to the straining eyeless face, then abruptly turning away. “I mean, the raven is…” She seems lost for words. “And the space is fantastic.”

At once, everyone seizes on the topic of the space.

“The space.” Maud nods fervently. “Just look at the space!”

“Amazing space!” chimes in Sarika.

“Well, come through,” I say, ushering them into the main living area, where I pour out champagne for everyone. We’re just lifting our glasses in a toast when Nihal timidly approaches. He’s brushed his hair flat and put on a tie and he looks about twelve years old.

“How do you do,” he greets everyone, shaking hands formally. “I’m Nihal.”

    “Nihal!” Maud swoops down on him, her eyes glittering with interest. “You’re the computer expert!”

“Yes,” says Nihal. Then he seems to reconsider his answer. “?‘Expert’ is a somewhat vague term. It would depend on your definition of—”

“So clever of you,” says Maud breathily, blinking at him.

Nihal looks taken aback. “Knowledge of computers isn’t inherently clever,” he says politely. “It’s merely an application of—”

“Well, I think it’s tremendous,” Maud cuts him off in a gush. “Just tremendous. I so admire your skills. So useful.”

“Ava,” murmurs Sarika in my ear. “Did you warn Nihal about Maud?”

“Oh God.” I look at her in consternation. “No.”

“Well, tell him, quick!” she says in an urgent undertone.

“How can I?” I whisper back. “It’ll ruin the party atmosphere!”

“You have to! The poor thing’s defenseless!” She prods me—but it’s too late.

“Nihal,” Maud is saying in her super-charming manner, “I don’t suppose you could come round and look at my laptop? I have no idea what’s wrong with it, and you’re so clever, I’m sure you could sort it out.”

She bestows her most dazzling smile on him, and Nihal blinks at her a few times.

“Maud,” he says mildly, “you’re a friend of Ava’s and you seem like a very nice person, so obviously I would like to help you. But I think that was an inappropriate request, bearing in mind that we only met a few minutes ago. So I’m afraid I will be turning you down on this occasion. With apologies.” He gives her a sweet, implacable smile.

    Maud’s mouth has slowly dropped open, and her cheeks have turned pink.

“Oh,” she says at last. “Oh. Of course. I’m…so sorry!” She takes a deep sip of champagne, and I can feel Sarika descending into giggles beside me.

“I take it all back, he’s a genius,” she murmurs. “What did you say he does, runs Apple?”

“Apologies for my tardiness.” A familiar dry, raspy voice cuts across the conversation, and we all turn our heads.

I’ve got used to Topher’s hulking, powerful, ugly frame. But as I see him afresh through the viewpoint of my friends, I realize again how unconventional he looks, with his fleshy, cratered face and huge eyebrows. He’s obviously taken his T-shirt off and put it on the right way around, as a concession to the party, but is still wearing black running shorts and sneakers. As he approaches, he glowers uncompromisingly at Maud, Nell, and Sarika.

“Hello, Ava’s friends,” he says.

“This is Nell, Maud, Sarika,” I say, gesturing at each of them in turn. “Topher.”

“Are you all vegetarian too?” asks Topher, and at once Nell’s eyes flash dangerously.

“What would you think if we answered yes?” she shoots back in her most confrontational manner.

Topher raises one dark eyebrow. “You want the truth?”

“Of course I want the truth.” Nell squares up to him, her chin set. She’s looking as bolshy as I’ve ever seen her, and I feel slight dismay. Are they going to have an argument already?