Upside Down(35)

More people got on the bus and I had a feeling I’d have to give up Jordan’s seat. A guy came up confidently, expecting me to move my bag, and with a reluctant sigh, I did. But the small lady in the backseat intervened. “No, this seat is taken,” she said, putting her handbag on the seat. “You can sit here.” She moved over, giving him a seat beside her. He looked confused, but she grinned at me. “I look out for you,” she said, just about beaming, then she nodded to the front of the bus. “Here he is.”

And yes, there he was. His coat was blue, his scarf and boots were tan, matching his aesthetic perfectly. His smile lit his whole face when he saw me, and he made his way up the bus. He nodded to the woman who had saved his seat. “Mrs Petrovski.” Then he nodded to the faces who had smiled at me. “Charles, Becky, Sandra, Ian.” And then he sat down. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I think we have an audience,” he said quietly.

“I think so too.” God, my heart was hammering. “You look really good today.”

I was rewarded with a rich blush. “Oh. Um, thanks.” He let out a rush of breath. “You do too. How was work?”

“Busy.” I patted my messenger bag. “I’ll be working late tonight.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ew.”

I chuckled. “It’s not so bad. You?”

“It’s my turn to cook dinner, or buy it, I haven’t decided yet. I kind of feel like carbs, and I make a mean rigatoni so I might make that.”

“Sounds good. Do you share cooking?”

“Yeah. We have done for years.” He made a face. “Angus and I are very different. Actually, you couldn’t probably get two people who are more opposite, but as flatmates we get on really well.”

“So, did you and he… ever…”

He stared at me, then snorted out a laugh. “Oh my God. If you ever met him, you’d realise how funny that is.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to… imply anything.”

He put his hand on mine, just briefly. Far too briefly. “It’s fine. So, questions? Should I go first, given it’s the last day.”

“The last day?”

“Of the week.”

“Oh.”

Mrs Petrovski swooned behind us, and Ian looked a little like a proud dad.

“Guys,” Jordan hissed at them.

“You can go first,” I told him, fighting a smile.

“Oh, okay. Well, it’s kind of silly, but people always say it’s the best thing since sliced bread. Like today, I might have said to Merry I think Hennessy could possibly be the best thing since sliced bread, and it got me thinking, what was the best thing before sliced bread?”

Sandra grimaced, but Charles nodded. “Fair question.”

“Fair, but not overly romantic,” Becky added.

Mrs Petrovski gasped. “He just said Hennessy was better than sliced bread.” She shrugged. “In a roundabout kind of way.”

Jordan sagged. “That’s not embarrassing at all, and I didn’t think it was possible but my life is even weirder now than it was before.”

I laughed and took his hand, threading our fingers. “It’s a great question, and given that bread was first sliced in the 1920s, I think, I’d guess the best thing before that would be the discovery of penicillin or perhaps the invention of internal combustion engines. Those things are pretty amazing.”

He gave me a doubtful look. “Penicillin I get, but engines? The best thing ever?”

“Yeah, sure. The first computer chip wasn’t patented until the 50s, so it predates that, but engines, definitely. They didn’t just revolutionise the transport industry but every industry; manufacturing, agriculture, not to mention—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I didn’t think of that.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “Your question. Quick, your stop is coming up.”

He was right. We we’re almost at the intersection. “Okay, so it’s more than one question. It’s ten really fast questions, and I want you to say the first thing that pops in your head.”

“That could be really dangerous and probably not safe for kids under the age of sixteen.”

I laughed. “Try and keep it PG.”

“I’ll try, but the first thing that pops in my head is usually motherfucker.”

I snorted. “Well, I’ll try and ask questions that won’t warrant motherfucker as an answer. You ready?”

He nodded, and the bus turned onto Cleveland Street. This had to be quick.

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs. No, cats. Both. That’s not fair, and we’re only up to question one, oh my God!”

“Tomato sauce on eggs. Yes or no?”

He made a face. “What is wrong with you? Of course not.”

I snorted. “Comfy clothes or fancy suits?”

“Jeans and a sweater, all day, every day.”

“Paperback or ebook?”

He stared. “Don’t you dare make me choose.”

I laughed. “Sweet or savoury?”

“Both. Together. At the same time. You’ve had my mango fries.” He then shot our audience a frantic look. “That is not a euphemism.”