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Ada Highfield

10:33

If I see her I’ll tell her

•••

Melanie Baker

13:08

Wait if you see her, what does that mean

•••

Ada Highfield

13:10

I’ll explain tonight

THIRTY-NINE

Sadie didn’t come back and Mel was going to leave her. Ada’s home life shrunk so rapidly from three to one that she couldn’t take in each disaster in turn and instead absorbed them both as a coordinated mass abandonment. This wasn’t dramatics, to Ada, but a real material loss and she didn’t know what to do with it.

Mel had come home from work to a creamy, cheesy potato bake that Ada had worked on all afternoon. Peeling, slicing, grating, baking. She had also made a simple salad for the side, knowing Mel liked to feel like she was achieving balance even through a hangover, and the freezer was stocked with mini Magnums. She had planned the dinner as a celebration – of Mel’s new relationship, of her new job – but found she couldn’t get Mel in the mood.

They talked about Will, how they’d been circling each other for a year at work, eating lunch and sending emails with little jokes. But Will had been with his partner since university and Mel didn’t allow herself to hope. Then just before she left for Edinburgh, Will told Mel he’d left his girlfriend and would like to see her when she was back. Ada gave herself a private moment of hurt over Mel keeping this from her and then asked for the rest of the story.

He had visited her in Edinburgh the final weekend – ‘I had no idea, you sneaky bitch!’ – and they’d been together ever since and because of the months of build-up it felt like they’d jumped forward in the relationship. Ada said she couldn’t wait to get to know him better and Mel suddenly asked her about Sadie. Ada said she was with another woman and waved her hand dismissively and refused to be drawn out more. And then Mel told her she was moving to Bristol with Will.

It is not always the obvious people who will be cruel, Ada thought. People often puzzled over her close friendship with Mel, seeing Ada as domineering (they said ‘fun’) and Mel as conservative (they said ‘quiet’). If they were a couple, Ada would be the life-of-the-party hostess and Mel the hard-done-by scrapper, keeping them afloat. But Ada loved Mel in a way that she realised, this night, with this announcement, Mel couldn’t possibly love her back.

Mel was moving to Bristol because Will was offered a transfer there and so yesterday Mel asked for one too. Will never planned to be in London long-term, ‘and neither did I,’ said Mel, though Ada clearly remembered her drinking a negroni and watching a drag show in a Dalston basement and saying, ‘Why would anyone not want to live in London.’ That hadn’t been that long ago and something had changed and could it only be Will? Ada tried to articulate this in a generous way but it came out like, ‘You love London, though. Does Will know that?’ which was accusatory and petulant and Mel said, ‘You can love somewhere and not want to live there,’ and Ada wondered if Will hated her and thought he probably did.

Ada asked if she’d need to find a new flatmate and Mel said, ‘If you want to stay? I guess? But—’ and then there was a series of words and disclaimers that amounted to a suggestion that Mel’s brother would raise the rent once his sister didn’t occupy the flat. Ada said, ‘Well, I’m like family,’ and then they both went quiet. Ada said, ‘So I guess I’m moving to Bristol then!’ and Mel looked at her and there was a flash of something like revulsion on her face and Ada, who hadn’t really been joking, said, ‘Joking, joking.’