All gentleness departed from Jolyon. ‘Me arrogant?’ he said. ‘It’s not me who thinks I’m so special the rules don’t apply to them.’
‘Fuck you, Jolyon.’
Emilia tried to soothe Jolyon with a touch but he brushed her roughly from his arm. ‘No, not fuck me, Mark. Because I’m not the one who’s fucked. I’m not the one who’s talking about avoiding a consequence. So I’m not the one who’s going to forfeit his deposit.’
‘Oh, here we go, Jolyon the rule master. Just who the fuck do you think you are?’
Jolyon’s eyes were like metal balls drawn back in a slingshot. ‘Who am I? I’m the one who plays this game properly, that’s who I am, Mark. I’m the one who pays attention to which cards have been played and doesn’t make stupid mistakes that earn them two consequences in a single round. And I’m just one of many people playing the Game a whole lot better than you, that’s who I am. Which means the only real question here is who are you, Mark? And the only answer I can think of is this – you’re the stupid one, Mark, that’s who the fuck you are.’
‘What did you just say to me?’
‘I said. You. Are. The stupid one. And you are. You must be a bit dim. Why else do you think you’ve had more consequences than anyone else? It’s not unlucky cards and bad rolls. It’s because you’re just a bit thick, Mark.’
Since the earliest days of their making friends they had all, except for Emilia, freely and liberally insulted one another. Anything was permissible, desirable even. Each night they would eat and then they would drink and then they would argue. And no one would flinch. Or Emilia might flinch just a little. And while Chad enjoyed the verbal roughhousing, he felt more comfortable tussling in his language of fricks and shoots. But all insults were acceptable, debating points that were forgotten by the next drink. And obscenities were not terms with which they could hurt or offend one another, such words meant almost nothing beyond ‘I strongly disagree’. But never, not once, had any of them around that coffee table used such a word to describe another. Never had any of them called another stupid.
Mark leapt to his feet. ‘Fuck you, Jolyon. I mean really fuck you.’ You could see Mark’s teeth when he swore as if he were tearing the obscenities clean out of the air. ‘Oh, Jolyon’s so masterful at cards like everything else in the world. Well, fuck you. Yes, you, Jolyon, the wannabe Renaissance man. Jolyon who knows everything, who everyone loves. But you’re such a fraud. And I’ve seen how you play your game. You’re just a con man peddling vapid ideas to people, empty little theories that sound pretty, and then you pretend to care what they think. Like with Chad. As if you give the slightest shit what Chad thinks about anything.
‘There’s not a single person on the whole planet you don’t secretly despise for a thousand obscure reasons while at the same time you try and sell everyone this bullshit shtick about believing in human decency. And it’s all one big power trip like this dumb fucking game of yours. It’s pulling the wings from insects and picking on fat kids. So fuck you, really, this time.’ Mark’s body began to lurch back and forth as if he were hurling his words. ‘You’re a bully, as plain and boring as that, Jolyon. Just like the worst kids at our schools we couldn’t wait to get away from. You’re wrong in the head. You’re a phoney. And when everyone else round this table figures this out, they’re going to make you pay for it. Joe.’
Jolyon started to rise but Emilia caught hold of his shoulder and it was she who stood up instead. ‘Enough!’ she shouted. ‘Stop it now, the both of you. Don’t you dare say a word, Jolyon. I’m serious, not one word. And, Mark, sit down and shut up, I bloody mean it.’ Mark sat down and crossed his arms. ‘And now I’m telling you what we’re all going to do, OK?’ said Emilia, although having said this she began to look uncertain. ‘Right then, well, we’re going to vote. Yes. On Mark’s veto. That we all get one and only one. And if we vote in favour he can use his today if he wants to.’
Jolyon slapped his hand against the coffee table. ‘You can’t do that, there’s no –’
‘Yes, Jolyon, yes I can. I’m sorry but you’re bloody well wrong. Now isn’t the time for your cast-iron principles because what we have here isn’t theories or justice systems in textbooks. This is friends and real life and sometimes you need to know when to turn it off. And I’m telling you, Jolyon, it’s right now or I’m walking straight out this room and never coming back.’
Jolyon fought to keep the words from flying out. If his words surged too quickly then soon he would follow them and everything would soar away, out of control. ‘Refusing a veto for Mark today has nothing to do with what I want,’ he said. ‘It’s about the Game, Emilia, it’s about rules and fairness to everyone.’
‘Listen very carefully to me, Jolyon,’ said Emilia. ‘If I walk out that door then it’s not just this game I’m walking away from. You understand that?’
‘Fine then,’ said Jolyon. ‘Have your little ballot. You know my vote.’
Emilia slumped back down in her chair, an emptiness fading away, a warmth bleeding back. ‘Thank you, Jolyon,’ she said. ‘Right. Jolyon votes against the veto and we know Mark’s vote, don’t we? So now it’s down to everyone else.’
‘I’m with Jolyon,’ said Chad immediately.
‘The evil twins vote as one, what a surprise,’ Mark snapped. ‘Little fucking lapdog.’
‘Leave it, Mark,’ said Emilia. ‘That’s two each then,’ she continued, ‘because I’m voting for the veto. But I want to say why. I’m voting for the veto because our friendship is what matters the most. There are things about this game we couldn’t have guessed beforehand. And no one’s to blame, no one at all. But I think if we’d seen more clearly how the Game would go, we’d have done things differently.’
Chad snorted. ‘How does Mark’s veto change anything, Emilia? He’ll get another consequence and we’ll be right back where we started. You’re delaying the inevitable. There’s kindness, and there’s decency, and then there’s utter pointlessness. And this veto idea doesn’t have any logic to it. It doesn’t do anyone any good in the long run.’
‘His master’s poodle barks out his latest tune,’ said Mark.
‘Screw you, man. If you haven’t got the balls for any of this then that’s your problem. Fine, I’ll say it, I don’t care. I’m better than you at the Game, Mark. You might understand ten dimensions but you have no idea about our game. I’ve had the fewest consequences of anyone but if I draw the worst I’ll do it, no complaints, no tantrums. I almost wish I could vote for your dumb-ass veto just to see you screw everything up again. You’re losing, Mark, so do what you’re supposed to do and then you can call it quits like a man. You’re not going to win, not in this lifetime.’
‘Woof woof woof.’ Mark snapped his hand like jaws. ‘Yap yap yap.’
‘Jack,’ said Emilia, ‘your turn to vote.’
‘I know, I know. But before I vote I want to say something.’ Jack looked down mournfully.
‘OK, Jack,’ said Emilia, ‘of course you can say something.’
Jack looked quickly to the ceiling, pausing to gather his courage. And then he said, ‘Am I the only one here who thinks Dee’s hat makes her look like a medieval troubadour? I mean, where’s your fucking lute, Sir Prancelot?’
Emilia swung her foot at Jack but he was prepared and already dodging the kick before her foot came close. ‘What?’ he said. ‘Bad timing?’
‘Just vote, Jack,’ said Emilia. ‘Jesus!’
Jack shrugged. ‘I just thought I felt a certain chilly atmosphere in the room,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if anyone else in here noticed. But it must be the hat, I can’t think of anything else. And someone had to fuckingwell say something.’