Page 233 of Double or Nothing

I don’t answer that. Jack stares at the TV screen like he didn’t hear us.

“Now that really does look like a load of shit,” he says about the footstool. “It should be long dead and buried with the grandma. Imagine inflicting that crap on future generations. Selfish bastards.”

Alice laughs. “Quite. But that’s the nature of legacy, isn’t it?”

“I dunno, Soul Girl. I don’t have one. I live in the now.”

“Go you, Jack. Congratulations.”

For a while, the day becomes almost gentle.

We watch another episode, then part of another. Alice sketches while Jack and I argue over whether a damaged chair should be restored accurately or changed to suit the person who intends to use it.

“It should be allowed to become something new,” Jack says.

“It’s survived for more than a century. The mahogany is divine.”

“And?”

“That history matters. That chair is part of a collection.”

“It was part of a collection, but that collection is stale and outdated. It needs to get a fresh start as something new, with people who actually give a fuck about it.”

His gaze meets mine.

Neither of us is talking about the chair anymore. Yet again.

Alice closes her sketchbook.

“What happens next can wait. Let’s pause this episode where it is, and get some lunch.”

Jack nods. “Excellent idea.”

We settle for toasties, obviously.

Jack brings out the Elite Cheese box, but without the ceremony I expect from him. He simply puts it on the island.

“Truffle brie for me,” Alice says.

“Of course,” Jack says.

“Comté, for me,” I say.

Alice looks at the two remaining cheeses.

“And yours, Jack?”

“Screw the Comté.” Jack takes a block of cheddar from the fridge. “A staple of civilisation itself.”

I set the Toastique Pro on the island while Alice gathers bread and chutneys. Jack fiddles with the controls like a DJ, even though he knows them by heart.

Alice stands between us and puts an arm around each of our waists.

“No arguing over cheese and whose is better than whose,” she says. “I don’t care what arrangement works best, we’ll all be munching away quite happily.” She laughs. “And your stance is a load of bluster, Jack. You love a bit of Comté. You’re more into it than you care to admit.”

The words settle between us.

What arrangement works best.