Page 56 of Isn’t It Nice We Both Hate the Same Things

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

By the next afternoon, word has got out about my fall.

After the disastrous dinner party, Cinar messaged Quinn, who messaged Cleaver, who told Dora, who messaged Ivan, who messaged just about every single employee at the radio station.

And somewhere along the gossip chain, someone messaged Graham.

Suddenly, everyone knew the reason behind my extended personal leave.

I get an onslaught of calls, as a result. People checking in, asking how I am. Colleagues I barely know, sending their well wishes and their get well soons.

There are now so many bundles of flowers at Dave’s apartment he struggles to find enough space for them without resorting to the floor. When Graham sends a delivery of sixty-four frozen dinners, Dave grumbles as he tries to cram them all into the freezer.

‘He knows you’ve only got casts on for five weeks, right?’ he says. ‘And that you’re living with me? I am perfectly capable of buying you food.’

I’m on the sofa, resting. My leg is aching, my arm is itching underneath the plaster, and I’m feeling incredibly frustrated by the whole thing.

I’ve become so reliant on Dave and it’s irritating me to the point of tears.

Last night, after everyone left, he had to help me undress and then place me on the shower chair.

Had to stand there and watch as I washed myself, in case I fell.

He saw me naked all the time when we were together, but for some reason this was different.

Intimate, uncomfortable. I squirm at the memory.

‘Right, well,’ Dave says, clapping his hands together. ‘I’m off.’

He’s visiting his dad this evening. ‘You sure you’re okay by yourself?’ he says, standing at the edge of the sofa, hands clasped together, doubt clouding his expression.

‘Will you stop asking me that?’

‘How will you go to the toilet?’

‘I’ll use my other arm. Or I’ll hobble on one foot. Maybe I’ll crawl, just for something different.’

He doesn’t look convinced, and maybe deep down I’m doubting myself, but I cannot keep Dave confined here for five weeks.

‘If I call your mum, she’d be here tomorrow to help you.’

I gesture to my plastered arm. ‘And I’d smack you with this if you did.’

He rolls his eyes, exhausted. He does not owe me anything; he can leave whenever he’d like. But even now, after we’ve separated, he’s still making sure I’m okay.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I repeat.

After he departs, I last all of twenty minutes before I call Quinn. Not because I need to, but because I want to.

When she arrives, using the spare key to let herself in, she breezes through with groceries in hand. Looks down at me for a moment, asks if I’m okay, then carries on as if nothing were different. As if I were no different. I could’ve kissed her.

‘Mushroom ravioli, as requested.’ My mother’s latest recipe. ‘Do you need anything?’

‘Yes,’ I say, sitting up on the sofa. ‘Tell me what happened with Cinar.’

She lets out a dramatic sigh. ‘Oh god, he was all over me,’ she says, unpacking her grocery bags in the kitchen. ‘And I wasn’t expecting it.’

She washes her hands, then returns to the conversation.

‘To be honest, I think I dated him because I knew it’d be fleeting.

I thought, “Oh, this guy won’t want me for long, it’ll be fun.

” And then he suggested we holiday overseas and I thought, fuck , he might just fall in love with me.

’ Beat. ‘I just knew he’d never leave me, if things kept on.

He should never have told me what he thought about divorce.

Made me realise he’d cling to my body long after I was dead, you know?

’ She pauses, then shifts her stance. ‘I remember loving Perry so much I wanted to be with him all day. Would’ve followed that man to his rural eggplant farm if he’d asked me. ’

‘And Cinar?’

‘He did this thing where he’d walk two steps ahead and then call to me. “Come on,” he’d say, but in this high-pitched voice like one might summon their dog. And he’d reach out and wiggle his fingers.’

She reenacts it, then continues. ‘And whenever someone asked him how we met, he’d describe me as the black-haired woman with two rums who he met at the art gallery bar.

Can’t believe how often he narrowed me down to a hair colour.

I don’t even like rum – I ordered them by mistake.

But I do think there is a plus in all this,’ she says, slicing mushrooms. ‘He told me, on multiple occasions, how nice it was to be with someone who had lived .’

‘Lived?’

‘ Lived ,’ she repeats, and we both laugh.

‘No doubt a comment on my age, which I’ll remind you is only one year younger than him.

So, I can’t be certain, but I think he’ll stop dating women in their early twenties now.

He’s got a taste for women his own age and now he’s got an entirely new pool of people to meet. ’

‘Maybe that’s why he dated the youth,’ I say. ‘Because they liked being smothered.’

‘Or maybe they were doing the smothering, and that’s why he got bored. Either way, I think Cinar will be just fine.’

This is the most I’ve heard about their relationship since they started dating. If this were Genevieve, I would’ve had daily updates. Weekly debrief sessions over a wine (or four). I would’ve known the breakup was coming.

‘You could’ve told me,’ I say. ‘Any of this, or all of it. You could’ve told me.’

She counters. ‘And you could’ve called me. When you had your fall.’

I hold her stare. ‘I was worried I’d be a burden.’

She tips her head. ‘Why would you think that?’

Because we haven’t been friends for very long? Because I’d be uprooting your life? Or, perhaps, because I didn’t know I could?

It still feels premature, to lean on her like that, but maybe I wasn’t giving her enough credit. Looking at her as she cooks me dinner, and then glancing around at all the flowers and gift baskets, I realise that maybe Dave wasn’t the only person in my life who would’ve helped me.

She returns to the kitchen and before long is searing chicken on a frying pan. ‘When do you go back to work?’

‘Not sure yet. I’ve taken a few weeks of personal leave.’

‘Miss it?’

Graham’s replacement was announced last week. Mid-forties, female, former journalist. Ivan and Dora, who met her briefly, learnt that she once broke a leg skiing and thus told me we’ll have something to discuss – and bond over – when I return to the station.

‘I do, actually.’

‘Tell me more about Josie being drunk last night,’ Quinn says. ‘I’ve imagined it many times, but have yet to see it.’

‘I’ve seen her drunk before, but this was different.’

She winces. ‘Was it tragic?’

‘More like someone who proposed in public but got a no . You just wish you weren’t a witness She’s usually so measured, but when she’s been drinking it’s like the crown topples off. Her mask comes down and behind it all she’s just like us.’

Quinn tips her head back. ‘This is going to sound mean—’

‘Go on.’

She laughs. ‘Before I met Josie, Cinar described her as if she were this long-haired, poised goddess. Calm and collected, you know?’

‘And you don’t agree?’

‘I don’t think I do. When I met her, it looked like someone had used a big spoon to gong her head. She’s got this surprised look all the time. Confused. You know?’

There’s a pause for a moment and then we’re cackling.

‘Is that mean?’ she says, between laughs.

‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘But you’re not wrong. And now I can’t unsee it.

’ The sun has long set and the apartment grows dim.

When Quinn turns on the light, she asks, ‘Where will you live?’ And I know, without her saying it, that she’s talking about after I have my casts removed.

When I no longer need help from Dave. ‘Because I’ve got a spare room.

Don’t usually have anyone in it, but I could clear it out if you wanted it. ’

‘Oh.’

Quinn surprises me a lot. I’m never sure exactly what she’s going to say, or how she might respond. I often wonder if she’s bored with me, if I’m too predictable for her, and then she offers me a place to live and all my expectations are thrown.

I’d been trying so hard to replace Genevieve that it took me a while to realise Genevieve is not replaceable.

And perhaps it’s insulting to try and fit Quinn into that box.

Quinn, who used to dress like a hobbit and doesn’t feel one ounce of shame about it.

Who coats her body in tattoos, who gives her opinion freely without worrying how it might affect my feelings.

Who avoids commitment. Who ends a relationship, unbothered, with someone who might just be in love for the first time in his life.

I look at her, as she’s preparing a meal for me, taking care of me, and I think, You are nothing like Genevieve. You are your own person. And I think, in time, I could come to love you just as much as I love her.

Later, after we’ve eaten and she’s cleaned the kitchen, Quinn waits for Dave to come home before she departs.

And when there’s a quick rap at the door, we assume it’s him.

Perhaps he’s forgotten his key, or his hands are full and he can’t reach it.

Perhaps he’s just being lazy and knows that Quinn can open the door for him.

And so, neither of us is quite prepared to see Genevieve at the door, thirty-one weeks pregnant and furious.

‘ You ,’ she says, pointing. Charging forward, one hand under her bump. Behind her, I see Bruce, looking sheepish. ‘You injure yourself like this and you don’t tell me? I’ve been calling you for weeks .’