Page 35 of Isn’t It Nice We Both Hate the Same Things

‘Yeah? That’s good.’ She doesn’t believe me. A frozen smile and a forced nod, I bet she knows I’m in a wretched place.

She shifts the conversation, looking down at my tasselled dress – gold and sparkling. ‘You look great.’ She wears a long-sleeved dress, sparkled but black, with beads stitched around the neckline and red pointed shoes.

When she takes her seat next to me, her stepmother arrives with a roll of paper towel. ‘Sorry, this is all they had.’ And immediately, Quinn tears off sheets to dry her hair, her face, her neck and then pat dry her clothing.

‘Have I missed much?’ she asks, looking up at me.

‘Just some games. And the first round of drinks.’

She pauses, looking around at the rowdy girls. ‘This is them after one drink?’

‘Oh, them? No, they drank the entire drive down. We are on our first round.’

She tips her head back, as if to say, Yes, that makes more sense. Discarding the paper towel, she tucks her hair behind her ears, clears her throat and grabs the champagne on the table in front of her. ‘I was worried I wasn’t going to make it.’

‘Working?’

She nods. ‘I work part-time at a local gallery. One of the girls went home sick, so I stayed back.’

‘What gallery?’

She names it, then asks if I’ve heard of it. Of course I haven’t. ‘Sounds familiar.’

‘Liar,’ she says, then laughs. ‘How’s your work going? I heard about Graham. I’m sorry. That must be hard.’

I appreciate her empathy, and the way her face softens when she speaks. ‘We’ve still got over a month left.’

She nods. ‘And then?’

I shrug. ‘No idea.’

She lets out a low whistle. ‘Ruthless,’ she says. ‘But he’s a legend, he’ll bounce back.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And he’s always seemed like a decent person. I like that. You switch over to the other stations and the hosts are so—’

‘Inappropriate?’

‘Was going to say inexperienced. Graham seems genuine. Cares when people call in.’ She sips her drink, then continues. ‘Is he like that in real life, too?’

‘He’s letting me crash at his house.’

‘So, yes.’ She pauses, staring at a girl nearby. Swivelling back to face me, she leans in close and lowers her voice. ‘Has that girl got 2004 on her necklace?’

Grinning, I nod. ‘It’s the year she was born.’

Quinn makes a horrified face. ‘I feel old.’

I wonder if Cinar makes her feel old, now that he’s dating someone age-appropriate. Does he think that, when they’re together? Does he ever look at her body and feel surprised, because it’s been so long since he’s been with a woman his own age?

It’s almost like she can read my mind. Knows I’m thinking about him. Because she places a hand on my forearm, looks me deep in the eye as her face turns sympathetic. ‘I’m so sorry about the group chat. Cinar told me.’

Oh, great. The group chat. That horrendous exchange I’ve been desperately trying to forget.

‘I told him how awful it was. Did he reach out and apologise?’

When I shake my head, she’s shocked. Mouth agape. ‘Serious? He told me he would. He promised me.’ She turns away, then back again. ‘Have they invited you to couples’ night next week?’

Oh god, she’s really skewering my feelings today.

Couples’ night. I guess it’s happening. The first one I won’t be invited to, after years .

All those nights at Josie and Sean’s making cob loaf and cocktails and screaming Pictionary guesses at Dave while he displayed such horrendous drawing skills, I knew we had no chance.

Balderdash was the only game we excelled at.

All those nights laughing with the group about Cinar’s dating history, or Emmanuel’s fashion decisions.

Trying new batches of Josie’s lotion, and listening to her latest work woes.

All of it, gone.

‘No,’ I say. ‘Haven’t heard anything.’

She makes a disapproving noise, raising her hands. ‘I’m so embarrassed,’ she says. ‘I’m going to say something to him, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine, it’s fine.’

‘It’s not, Charlie. It’s not fine.’ She’s clasping my wrist now, her eyes boring into mine. Her focus is rather intense. ‘I’ve been there. It’s not fine.’

She’s right.

It’s not fine that my friends never spoke to me after I ended things with Dave.

That Josie said those things about me in the group chat.

That Cinar promised his girlfriend he’d reach out and he didn’t.

That Cinar can break up with every girlfriend he’s had and we don’t bat an eyelid, but I end my relationship and suddenly, I’m an outcast. It’s not fine that Genevieve moves interstate and I’m out here looking for all these different ways to keep myself busy, just to distract myself from how incredibly lonely it is ending a marriage.

‘It’s not your fault things didn’t work out. And it’s certainly not your fault for leaving.’

You’re not a terrible person, you just left a terrible marriage .

‘Tell me something funny, please,’ I say, desperate. ‘Anything.’ She doesn’t even need to think on it.

‘I had a boob job when I turned thirty, and the first time I went through airport security, the whole machine reacted. Beeped, signalled. Hooted its head off. But my shoes were off and I had no jewellery on, and we couldn’t work out why it was reacting like that.

And then security said, “Do you have any implants in your body?” And I thought oh shit, and I just grabbed my boobs, you know?

Just grabbed them and said, “Yeah, I do, actually.” And the poor man looks at me.

Like, right in the eye, and says, “No, ma’am. I meant metal implants.”’

I spit out my wine, cackling. Hand to my mouth, eyes wide. ‘And then?’ I splutter.

‘I don’t know. I was too mortified. Did you not hear the part where I clutched my own tits?’

I decide I’d like to spend more time with Quinn. That she’s a hoot, and she’s insightful. That she’s quick-witted and genuine. That she could fill the hole left by Genevieve.

Reaching out, I clasp her arm. ‘We should get dinner sometime,’ I suggest. ‘Just you and me. You can tell me about this gallery which, I admit, I’ve never heard of. Or set foot in.’

She smiles, then nods. ‘I’d like that.’ Then she rises from her chair. ‘I’m going outside for a vape – want to join?’

Only now do I realise Mr and Mrs Quiz is over. That I was so invested in Quinn’s arrival, and her airport story, I didn’t notice they restarted it. That the other guests have all been distracted while Quinn and I talked.

I look outside, cast an eye over the rolling fields, and notice we’re still in the middle of a downpour. ‘In the rain?’

She shrugs, unbothered.

Nearby, Issy is preparing us for the next game.

‘Little break, everyone. Little break. Top up your drink, go to the bathroom if you need. When we come back, we’ll be playing “Drink if”.

I say something, and if you’ve done it, you drink.

Easy, right?’ Everyone cheers, and then she continues.

‘I’ll give you the first one now, get everyone excited.

You ready? Drink if … you’ve ever been married. ’

I grab my glass and stand. ‘Okay, let’s go.’