Page 176

He would explain that he had freaked out because he liked her too much and he was a stupid boy with stupid-boy commitment issues. Or he would explain that he was so hungover that he thought he’d be sick on the train and he couldn’t tell her that because it made him seem so juvenile. Or he would explain that he had diarrhoea and there’s simply no sexy way to tell the person you’re fucking that and she would laugh and say the toilet is basically in the bedroom in this flat so it’s a good thing he didn’t chance it. But in the future, he could be honest with her, they were both just humans with bodies after all. No shame in the things that bodies do.

Ada pulled out a plate and laid the eggplants on it, taking one final bite of a now cold, squishy end and letting the miso flavour fill her mouth. She put the plate in the fridge too. What a feast they would make for lunch. The miso would be even richer after soaking in overnight. They could take it down to the beach, sit on the rocks and take turns tearing it apart with their forks and waving away disappointed seagulls looking for chips. A blustery picnic, huddled in their coats, full of forgiveness and forgetting.

She opened the bottle of white wine and took a tumbler from the cupboard, the kind of cloudy glass with a colourful rim favoured by beach houses the world over. It was because the glass resembled glass worn down by the tides, she guessed, but who were they fooling, this cup wasn’t made from that glass. But it was pretty all the same. Ada poured the wine, drank and found it slightly bubbling, as though the fermentation was happening in front of her and maybe continuing in her guts. She sat on the floor, leaning against the chest and googled ‘Austrian white wines’ which was easier than listening to the man at the store.

Around midnight she ate some Lindt balls and decided there was no need to cook the dumplings tonight. There was still tomorrow.

FORTY-TWO

06/10/2017

Ada Highfield

00:06

I am trying to be understanding here but you need to tell me where you are

•••

Ada Highfield

00:07

Facebook tells me you’re alive, thank you Mr Zuckerberg, but I need a little more than that

•••

Ada Highfield

00:09

If you’re mad at me I want to know so I can apologise or more likely explain why you shouldn’t be mad at me

•••