‘Completely ridiculous when you think about it,’ said Leon, ‘but if she’d asked us to walk backwards into the middle of next week we’d have done it for her. She was bloody gorgeous.’
Angie tutted loudly.
‘Next. Who was caught in the act red-footed?’ Maggie asked, moving neatly away from Genevieve’s figure.
‘Oh, that’s easy!’ said Leon. ‘That lad who painted anti-Apartheid slogans on the Barclays Bank cashpoint in red paint and then left footprints for the police to follow leading all the way back to his flat. Idiot!’
‘Wasn’t he on your course, Maggie?’ asked Angie. ‘Not the greatest start to a career in the law.’
‘He was. Wonder what happened to him,’ Maggie said vaguely and then, with more conviction, ‘Who could turn anything into a decent chilli?’
Angie and Leon both spoke at once. ‘Me!’ ‘Lee!’
‘They kept us going, those chillis of yours. You should come round one night, Lee, and make us another. For old times’ sake,’ Maggie suggested.
‘I can do that,’ he said and for a moment, Angie thought he was going to mention his newly single status, but he didn’t. Instead, the three of them stayed safely cocooned in the past, in a time before any of them knew how things were going to turn out.
Around midnight the restaurant staff started putting chairs on the tables and mopping the floor and so, taking the hint, they left. The wine seemed to hit Maggie as she stood up and she swayed on the spot for a moment, giggling like a schoolgirl.
‘I haven’t been this drunk for . . .’ she began, looking up at the ceiling and tapping her index finger against her lips. ‘Forever,’ she concluded.
Leon grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Steady!’ he said.
Even in this drunken state, Angie would have expected Maggie to shun the help, but she didn’t seem to notice. Together they stumbled out of the restaurant and into the brightly lit street. There were a few people around, but they all seemed to be walking with purpose to a destination unknown. The evening appeared to be over.
No one suggested going on anywhere else, and Angie felt relieved. There was only so much reminiscing she could take, and she feared that if they let the conversation stray closer to their present situations, the evening would take a very different turn.
‘Right,’ said Leon decisively. ‘Point me in the direction of a taxi rank.’
‘Noooo,’ said Maggie. ‘Come and stay at my place. I’ve got a spare room with an en suite and I can definitely rustle you up a shiny new toothbrush.’
Leon’s eyes flicked between the pair of them as if Angie could help him make a decision.
‘Don’t look at me,’ said Angie. ‘You’re very welcome to come back with me but you’ll be on the sofa, it’ll be a scrum for the bathroom and you’ll have to share my toothbrush!’
Leon looked back at Maggie. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ he asked.
‘The more the merrier,’ replied Maggie in a very un-Maggie-like way.
She slipped her arm through Leon’s and, after saying their goodbyes, the pair of them strolled off in the direction of the taxi rank leaving Angie to make her own way home.
It had been a lovely evening, Angie thought, letting herself back into her quiet flat and sneaking up the stairs for fear of waking Romany. There was something about old friends, she thought, a special depth of understanding that you never quite managed to reach with friends made later in life. The people who knew you when you were learning to know yourself had a more honest picture. They’d seen you when you were not yet entirely formed, when your outer shell hadn’t quite sealed around you. As a result, there was less pretending. Friends like that would never let you get away with the stories that you could spin around yourself with newer people. And even though that could be scarily exposing, it was also good to be around them. You could skip past all that small talk and pleasantries stuff and cut straight to the heart of whichever matter needed to be discussed.
That said, once she and Leon had learned that Maggie had been sacked – sacked! Maggie!!! – they had managed to steer the conversational boat a long way from that particular reef, old friends or not. There would be time enough to unpick that in the coming weeks.
Leon seemed to be faring better with his new situation, but then he had had longer to get his head around the changes. Also, he had always had such low expectations in the first place, so he had less far to fall than Maggie. There was a kind of logic to his approach to life, Angie could see now. If you never aim too high, then you never have too far to fall. It was fundamentally self-limiting though, accepting that your life was never going to be more than you allowed it to be, and Angie didn’t believe that that was what Leon really wanted. Fear of success, that was what was holding him back. His life would be much easier if it just trundled along the same path as his parents’ had done. It was safe and secure and in many ways that was commendable. But it was such a waste! A waste of his musical ability and a waste of life in general. You got one spin on the merry-go-round. Surely it was a person’s responsibility to make their ride as exciting as they possibly could?