Page 32 of Easy
‘It’s not that posh.’ There’s definitely a hint of something else, but I’m not admitting that during the Kallie inquisition. She’d probably go out and by a wedding hat. ‘Also, that’s too many likes. Dial it back.’
‘Oh, I think you’ve got a thing for the blond poshy in the flashy suit,’ she sings.
‘And I think you must’ve been in the sun far too long today,’ I sing back.
‘Actually, I have been sunbathing in the garden.’
‘You usually avoid the sun.’ I take a sip of my tea now that it’s past theburn the tastebuds from my tonguestage.
‘Like a vampire,’ she intones, à la Sesame Street’s Count von Count. ‘But my mother’s coming to town to see Dee’s baby, so she’ll also start on me.’ She sighs. ‘So I’m working on turning my wheatish complexion to a tan.’
‘A little contextual background might help.’
‘When my mother turns up, I turn into Bart Simpson,’ she says by way of explanation. ‘And you can’t really tell a devout Hindunot to have a cow. Not without her needing to visit the nearest temple.’
‘But I thought Hindus didn’t eat beef, therefore don’thavea cow. Tell her as well as vegetarian, you now eat girls.’
‘That wouldn’t go down well. Ha—go down! Hindu gods might be allowed to get their same sex funk on, but not good Hindu daughters. I’m breaking my mother’s heart with a lack of husband and children already. Anyway, stop distracting me,’ she adds. ‘This call was supposed to cheer me up. But you didn’t hump the hottie.’ Her tone is pure pout, and even though she pauses again, I know instinctively what’s coming next. The thought turns my tea bitter and spills words from my mouth.
‘He ignored me. Julian. No, actually worse than that, he didn’t remember me. At. All.’
‘The bastard.’ Kallie’s voice drops to a low growl.
‘So either our meeting wasn’t as memorable as my mind made it, or—’
‘Don’t do that,’ she says, interrupting. ‘Don’t you dare bear the burden.’
‘Well, something had to be up. Because he literally had no idea who I was. Maybe he had a fear of flying and was doped up with meds to help his fear. Or maybe he’s suffered a nasty bump to the head recently and forgotten everything. Or maybe he’s suffered from an illness, or a syndrome—’
‘Or maybe he’s just a complete twat?’ she answers, mimicking my tone. ‘Stop being so reasonable. We both know that men can be utter bastards.’
‘It’s not just women.’ There are one or two such women we work with.
‘Agreed. Twattage is a human condition. But that aside, fuck Julian. And fuck men like him. In fact, no! Men like him don’t deserved to be fucked.’
‘That’s a lot of fucks—a lot of fucks to give,’ I say, trying not to giggle.
‘You’re right. Absolutely. They don’t deserve one of our fucks. They deserve fuck all fucks! But on the other hand, you deserve a fantastic f—’
‘You had to go and spoil it.’
‘A fantastic fu-flippin’ holiday,’ she says. ‘One with sunshine and rain and sightseeing and food.’
‘I deserve a trip to Madame Tussauds,’ I add. ‘And the London Eye.’
‘And dinner at Nobo and a West End show. And a really good seeing to by the willing man named Will.’
I sigh. ‘Do you really think so?’
‘A summer fling is definitely what the doctor ordered.’
‘But you’re not a doctor yet, and even if you were, I don’t think a doctor of education can hand out those kinds of prescriptions.’
‘You’ll just have to call me the love doctor, then.’
‘And if the charges hit your credit card in the thousands, will you still feel the same then?’
‘He’s not going to charge you.’
