‘Has Portia told you about Marcus?’ he says, after we’ve been sitting for a while.
‘Portia, your new best friend?’ This is somewhat sarcastic, I know, but ever since Portia introduced Si to Eva, she’s been promoted from evil wicked witch of North London to Saint Portia the Heavenly Angel. I’m not jealous, it just pisses me off slightly.
‘Now, now. She’ll never take your place, Cath. But she has this friend, Marcus, and he’s got an apartment in Tenerife, and apparently he lets his friends use it when he’s not there.
‘He’s offered it to Portia in a couple of weeks, but she can’t go, too much work, so she thought I might like to go.’
‘It sounds amazing! Who would you go with?’
‘Actually, I thought I might go on my own…’
I shoot him a worried look, but he starts laughing. ‘No, no, don’t worry, I’m not going to sink into a deep depression and throw myself off a cliff or anything. Actually I’d just love some peace and quiet, and I think the sea would be incredibly healing for me.’
‘Si, come on, you’d be lonely as hell.’
‘You know, six months ago I would have agreed with you, but everything’s changed now, and, bizarre as this sounds, given all that’s happened, I feel incredibly serene at the moment.
‘I just want to go by myself, read my self-help books, sunbathe and sit on the terrace at night, breathing in the smell of the pine forest and listening to the sea.’
I snort with laughter. ‘Pine forest? As if! God, Si. Ever the Romantic.’
‘Only this time there’s no man involved. Nor is there likely to be.’
‘Si, being HIV positive doesn’t preclude relationships, you know. It just means you have to practise safe sex.’
‘Do I know it doesn’t preclude relationships? Darling, you’re talking to the expert. I’ve been through the whole safe sex issue with the counsellor, and it’s not the practicalities, it’s just that it’s the very last thing on my agenda right now. I need to heal myself, and until I’m whole I won’t be ready for anything else.’
I press my palm on to his forehead. ‘Simon Nelson, are you sure you’re feeling all right?’
‘Oh ha bloody ha. Meanwhile, how about moving that big bum of yours and getting some exercise?’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I mutter, ‘I see that some things, like insults, never change.’
We carry on walking round the field, Si picking up sticks and branches that are just beginning to fall off the trees, and throwing them for an ecstatic Mouse.
‘There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ he says. ‘About telling the others. I think it’s time I told them, now that I’m doing the course and I’m coming to terms with it. What do you think?’
‘I think that if you’re ready, and you’re sure, it would be the right thing to do. How are you planning to do it?’ I don’t tell him that Lucy and Josh know that something is up, even though they haven’t got a clue what it is. They know because when Si was in ‘the darkness’, as he put it, he cut himself off from everyone except me.
And even now, since Eva and the course, he’s still been reluctant to see them. He’s changed, he says, and he doesn’t want them to see the change until he’s ready for it.
‘I’ve decided to hold a dinner party,’ he announces grandly. ‘Well, actually I thought it would just be us, you, me, Josh and Lucy. I thought when I’m back from Tenerife, but definitely before Christmas. Give me a chance to dust off Queen Delia, because God knows she hasn’t seen the light of day for a while.’ Si stops and looks at me, anxiety clouding his expression. ‘Cath, do you think it’s a good idea?’
‘That you tell them? God, yes! Definitely.’
He sighs. ‘The thing is that I’m sure Lucy will be fine with it, but what about Josh? You know how straight he is, I think this might completely freak him out, and I couldn’t bear it if he did one of those numbers where suddenly he’d start dragging Max away or something because he thinks I’m infectious.’
‘Sounds like heaven to me,’ I mutter, but then I compose myself because Si is genuinely worried. ‘First of all I’m sure Josh wouldn’t react like that, and secondly, even if he did, do you really care what that unfaithful sod thinks?’
‘I suppose not. Anyway, I may as well get it over and done with before I go away. Do you really think I’m doing the right thing?’
‘I really think you’re doing the right thing.’
We wander round Primrose Hill, then sit outside one of the cafés for a quick coffee, where Mouse misbehaves himself horrendously by trying to mount every dog – male and female – that has the misfortune to pass. After we’ve dropped Mouse back, I tell Si to let me off at Bookends, because, even though it’s my day off, I can’t resist seeing how busy it is every Saturday.
And at the end of the day, I get home and am about to listen to my messages, when the phone rings. It’s James.
‘And what are you up to now?’ he asks, when I have finished burbling my news down the phone, trying hard to push the picture of his forearms out of my mind. ‘I hope you’re doing something extra special.’
‘Actually I’m staying in,’ I laugh. ‘Everyone’s busy, and I’m treating myself to a lovely lazy night in.’
‘Cath, you can’t possibly stay in tonight. It’s not allowed. You are, on the other hand, allowed to have a lovely lazy night in, but I’m afraid it will have to be at my place, because I’m bored too and I want some company. Say, eight-ish?’
How could I possibly refuse?
Just before I leave the house I record a message on Si’s machine telling him he’s a pain in the arse, but that I’ve finally done something I think he’d be proud of. And it isn’t a shopping spree in Designer Heaven.
I check myself in the mirror and grin at my reflection, which, thanks to the stress of the last few weeks with Si, is looking just the tiniest bit smaller, and are those… could they possibly be… cheekbones?
Ten minutes later I’m standing outside James’s door, and when he opens it he gives me a big hug and immediately hands me a glass of champagne.
‘Hmm,’ I say, as soon as I walk through the studio and into the living area. I inhale deeply, sniffing what smells suspiciously like lavender furniture polish, and today, unlike the last time I visited, James really has put me to shame. Today the piles of papers have all disappeared and the furniture is gleaming, helped somewhat by the flickering candlelight emanating from the huge gothic torches on either side of the fireplace.
‘This smells far too clean for you, James,’ I say, running my finger along the coffee table and feigning surprise at finding no dust.
‘Oh, please, you’ve only been here once. And correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the woman who wouldn’t know clean if it came up to her on the street and spat in her eye?’
‘Charming! As it happens, James, I vaguely remember you saying that housework wasn’t your thing either. In fact, no, no, I remember you saying you were horribly messy and couldn’t get your act together.’
‘Let’s just say I wanted to prove to you that I had another side,’ he laughs, sitting down next to me on the sofa.
‘I can see,’ I say, raising the champagne glass together with an eyebrow. ‘Are we celebrating something?’
‘The fact that you haven’t cancelled me, perhaps?’ he says, grinning.
‘Now, now. The night is still young. Give me half an hour and I’ll be doing another runner.’
‘You had so better not do that,’ he says sternly. I apologize and tell him that really is the last thing on earth I will be doing tonight.
‘So.’ He reaches for his glass on the table.
‘So.’ I smile, as we toast one another.