After what I estimate to be half a glass, I see a figure lurching down the road towards me. Some men walk with such an air of dishevelment that they look like they’ve been drawn by a toddler. Andrew is such a man. If there is any doubt, the silhouette of the hair tells me it’s him. The slight swaying suggests he finished that second bottle of wine. I stand up and laugh, waving at him with my free hand.
‘Fuck you for leaving me there,’ he says, punching me lightly on the shoulder. ‘Roger kept on about council recycling schedules and Lucy does nothing to stop him. She seems to almost find it charming?’
He drops his rucksack and fumbles for his keys. Once we’re in, he dumps his bag on the main desk and I go to the kitchen to find some cups. Can’t let him see we will be drinking different things after all. By the time I find them, he’s gone outside and started setting up. With a flicker of amusement, I note that he seems to be wearing vinyl gloves. We’re both taking precautions tonight then.
‘I’m going to give you the liquid from a dropper, OK? Didn’t think you’d actually want to lick a frog.’ He laughs, but I can see he’s still anxious.
‘Don’t worry about that now – line it up and then let’s have another drink. We can take it later,’ I say with a smile, handing him a mug with ‘Frogtastic!’ embossed on the side. He takes it gratefully and swigs. I tense up, wondering if he’ll notice the unusual strength, but he just takes another gulp and sits it down on the deck beside him.
As he decants the frog paste, we talk about his fieldwork and the places he wants to go after Australia. Figuring I have nothing to lose, I ask if his parents are supportive of his ambitions.
‘We don’t speak,’ he says bluntly. ‘Haven’t done for a few years now. It’s for the best. My family is toxic.’ Ain’t that the truth, I think and rub his arm.
‘What happened?’
‘Oh, nothing. Everything. I was just born to the wrong people. I used to joke that I’d been swapped at birth and that my parents’ real son was driving down some beach in a Bentley. They’re not bad people … well, Mum’s not. She’s lovely actually. But the expectations they had for me all centred around money and my uncle’s business and it was just terrible and vicious. I kept in touch for a while after I’d told them I wouldn’t be working for the family, but it got too hard. They’d push it, telling me I was making a stupid decision and that I was behaving like a spoilt child.’ He swigs more wine. Everyone should drink wine from a mug. Really makes you overdo it.
Andrew opens up to me as he relaxes. As I top up his vodka-infused wine, he explains how his father was consumed by jealousy of his older brother, how his mother was emotionally neglected and his sister had died at nine months old, making him always feel as though he had to live for both of them. I play the silent yet supportive friend, while inwardly thanking the universe that I only have to deal with the one cousin. By now, I’ve switched to drinking water, but Andrew is so drunk he’d never notice. He’s too far into confessional mode, thinking that he can trust me with his deepest and most complex thoughts. Therapists earn every penny. I don’t want to rush him, but the family talk isn’t detailed enough to help me much and any pointed questions I ask are being met with slurred and vague replies. Time for the frog slime, before he is too drunk to function and I have to wait another week. I really can’t face another pub evening with Roger.
Thankfully, the private school politeness that’s been pummelled into him doesn’t seem to fade with alcohol, and when I remind Andrew of the original plan, he’s all hands on deck. The pre-prepared droppers are brought out, and Andrew explains that he will have to make a small burn on my skin in order to allow the serum to enter the body more easily.
‘Where do you want to be marked?’ he asks. ‘Most people choose somewhere easily covered.’ I settle on the foot, since I don’t want to have to remember to cover up or explain away a mark on my body. I pull off my trainers and roll up my socks, putting them into my shoes. I scan the deck, making sure none of my things are lying around. I won’t have a lot of time to linger after we finish. After he’s finished. The rosé bottle is empty, and I place it near my bag, stuffing the mug into a side pocket to take back to the kitchen.
‘You have to do it with me, Andrew,’ I remind him. ‘I’m too much of a wuss to go it alone. Do it at the same time. We’ll jump together.’ He waggles his finger in my face and smiles, pushing a lone dreadlock behind his ear.