“Mmm.” Bella considered something. “How long have they lived there, then?”
Veronica didn’t answer for a moment. She looked down at the ground and Bella watched as her hair swung forward, the sunlight catching the tips and making them blaze with a clear, golden light. Once again, she found herself struggling with envy; envy and something else, indefinable but uncomfortable, the feeling rubbing up against the liking she was beginning to feel for her female flatmate.
“The boys have been there for a while,” Veronica said. She said it carefully. “I moved in, oh, it must have been over a year ago. Yes, I think it was about a year ago.”
They walked on for a moment in silence. The bus stop was just up ahead. Bella reached for her bag to find her purse and realised Veronica has stopped on the pavement, a few steps behind.
“What’s wrong?”
Veronica looked up, smiling bravely. She was pale again and for a moment, she looked a lot older than her twenty-seven years.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s just going to be one of those days, I think.”
As soon as they reached Bond Street, Veronica marched Bella firmly down a side street and into a pub.
“Drinks first,” she said. “Get the afternoon off to a healthy start.”
They took their gin and tonics outside and slid onto the wooden benches that were ranged along the pavement. A plane tree’s branches, tipped with yellowing leaves, shed a little shade.
Bella swirled her ice around in her glass. She watched as Veronica took a packet of ten cigarettes out of her bag.
“I used to smoke,” she said, just for something to say. “Well, you know that. Mind you, that cigarette I had at dinner the other night was the first one for about three years.”
“I gave up for a few years too,” said Veronica. “Then I started again.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Ah well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Veronica winked at her across the table as she rummaged for a lighter. She withdrew it and it flashed in the sun, a beautiful gold lighter with a pattern of leaves and flowers embossed on its glossy side.
“There’s a lot I don’t know about you all.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Veronica smiled a little. “That’s why I thought we’d come out today, you know. Get to know one another a bit. It’s stupid, living in the same house and being virtual strangers to one another.”
“Well, cheers. And thanks.” Bella clinked her glass against Veronica’s. “To tell you the truth, I was going out of my mind when you stuck your head round the door. I felt so – so – “
“Lonely?”
Veronica blew a plume of blue smoke across the table.
“Yes,” said Bella.
Veronica took a slow sip of her drink.
“It’s that house. Sometimes it gives me the creeps. It’s a bit like something from a horror film, you know, all dark stairs and high ceilings…don’t you think?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” said Bella wonderingly. “It’s certainly – gothic.”
Veronica mashed her cigarette out in the ashtray that lay in the middle of the table, choked with grey ash and stubs.
“You’re quite clever, aren’t you?” she said. Bella looked down at the table, embarrassed. “Jake said you were clever. He’s clever himself. That’s how he can see it, in you.”
“What about Carl?”
“Carl?” Veronica went blank again for a second. Bella watched her uneasily across the table. She remembered a friend at university who’d had epilepsy – remembered her petit mal seizures and the vagueness of her face as she came round from an attack. Was that what was happening here? She was on the verge of touching Veronica’s hand when the other girl came back to life.
“You met Jake in the bombings, didn’t you?”
“What?” said Bella, jolted.
“You met him in the tunnels. After the bombs.”
“Yes.”
For a brief second, Bella heard the explosion again. She saw again the colour that had briefly imprinted itself on her retinas in the second after the explosion – a sick, dirty orange, saturating her vision, nauseating her.
“Could I have one of those?” she said abruptly, gesturing to Veronica’s packet of cigarettes.
“Sure.”
Veronica pushed the packet towards her and Bella lit one. The taste of ash filled her mouth and suddenly she really was back there, walking through that wall of heat and humid dust. She coughed.
“Sorry. I can’t smoke this, I thought I could –“
“Doesn’t matter. Stub it out, go on. I’ve got lots more.”
The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the clinking of the rapidly melting ice cubes in their drinks. Bella felt the weight of their unsaid conversation between them. She wanted to know what Veronica thought, about Jake, about her; she wanted to know why the three of them had shut her out; she wanted to know why they never set foot in the garden. There was so much she wanted to know but the effort involved in beginning, in breaking down the barrier of small talk made her feel suddenly tired. Abruptly, she longed for Jake, for their bed, for the simple animal oblivion of sex – somewhere she could hide, without words, just the simple physical comfort of another human body against hers.
“Come on,” said Veronica. Bella looked up at the sound of her voice and watched Veronica smile. “Shopping time.”
They started with Bond Street; trawled the length and breadth of Oxford Street; ended up, footsore and weary, in the boutiques of Covent Garden. The two of them carried a satisfyingly large collection of bags. Bella tried not to think of the terrifying amount of money she’d just stuck on her credit card. What the hell, it was only money. Life was too short; she had cause to know that, if anyone did.
“How about that? Look at that, Bella. That would look fabulous on you.”
Veronica was pointing to a slip of shimmering fabric in the window of a tiny shop. Bella shook her head.
“Come on, where would I wear it?”
“Try it on at least. Go on.”
They squeezed themselves through the door of the shop and Bella made her way to the one cubicle at the back. The curtain didn’t quite fit the doorway – she struggled with it before poking her head out.
“Veronica, can you hold this closed for me?”
Bella pulled the wisp of cloth over her head – it was like dressing in mist. Her nipples rose in hard points against the milky fabric.
“How’s it look?”
Veronica stuck her head through the gap in the curtain and looked appraisingly at Bella.
“Hmm… nice. You’ve got amazing tits.”
Bella blushed. “Thanks,” she muttered. Veronica was staring at her chest and for a bizarre moment, Bella was reminded of Carl. She waited for Veronica to remove herself again but she stood there, just a little too close, watching Bella in the mirror, a slight smile on her face.
“You should buy it.”
“I can’t. I can’t afford it.”
“Get Jake to buy it for you. He’ll love it. You look delicious in it.”
Bella giggled, uneasy at her tone. “Come on – “
Veronica suddenly seemed bored. She let the curtain fall between them.
“Let’s call it a day, then,” she said, from behind the cloth. “I need a drink.”
The pub Veronica took her too was very new and shiny. A gleaming stainless steel bar ran in a looping curve around the room and tall, pedestal seats were set in neat pairs along its length. It was dark and quiet and humming with money – Bella took a look at the cocktail list and blanched slightly. Veronica noticed and quickly put her at ease.
“I’ll get these.”
“Oh, no –“
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ve got lots of money.”