Page 39 of Last Night

‘That sounds pretty rad and status quo disruptive to be fair,’ Justin says. ‘Make a note now: that’s what I want.’

‘Also her page isn’t set up for lots of “rest in peace our princess” posts because Susie would loathe that.’

I know why I’m incensed and protective. If attempts are made to rewrite who she was, to rival my claim to her, I’ll lose her by another degree. My Susie is the real Susie.

‘Why did they go to you, and not me?’ I add.

‘Given your reaction, I can’t begin to imagine,’ Ed says, tipping his cup to drink with little finger aloft, and Justin guffaws.

I harrumph and say: ‘Yes well if they know her best female friend would cockblock them doing it, then that tells them they shouldn’t be doing it.’

‘I’ll ask them to message me their thoughts and we can decide whether to use them. I have a feeling they’ll lose interest as time goes on. No one has the right to get across you, Eve. Everyone knows that. You two were practically a marriage.’

I nod and try not to cry for the thousandth time. I will never have a friend like her again. Not only because of our affinity, the sheer timescales. You can’t make new old friends. Doors in your life, open and closing.

Ed sips his Americano and glances across to the staircase.

‘… Oh, speak of the devil. That could be Finlay …?’

I look over.

It’s definitely Finlay. Even if I hadn’t recognised his features, the ink-dark expensive clothing and pristine white Adidas Superstars signal money, and Otherness. And yes, ‘the devil’ seems apt.

He scans the room. I raise my hand, as if in class, to say: ‘Here.’

In three purposeful strides across the room, Finlay Hart is at our table.

My first thought is: he’s taller than I remember. My second thought is: I’m surprised at how easily I recognise him. You know when someone asks you to picture a person you’ve not seen in years, and you can’t, and therefore you think you wouldn’t know them? Then you see them, andbang, there they are, you have no doubt? Pattern recognition?

He still has the solemn, dark blue eyes, and straight brow. His nose is different to Susie’s uptilted one – how is it possible that nose has ceased to exist? – neat and straight, and those are Susie’s lips, just smaller, with the defined Cupid’s bow.

I trace similarities to Susie like I’m piecing together a PhotoFit – he also has her pronounced cheekbones. But their colouring was very different, so you’d never have put them together as siblings. I remember Susie saying:I’d love to think he’s adopted, and no doubt so would he, but sadly the documentation is in order and my dad’s dad was the absolute spit of him.

My third thought is, as Finlay pulls a knitted hat from his head and riffles his dark brown hair back into place: he’s intimidatingly well put together, if not actually appealing in any way. His face looks like a plasterer could sculpt it in a few quick swipes of a trowel: fierce geometry.

It suits his nature. No softness.

‘Hi. I’m Finlay.’

I vaguely recall he had floppyBrideshead Revisitedhair last I saw him; now it’s slightly shorter and neater and he’s got ‘just got off the red eye’ stubble that’s pretending to be a beard.

Fin’s not smiling at us, but then, being fair, it’s not a smiling occasion.

‘You must be Ed,’ he says, sticking out a hand for a handshake. ‘And Eve?’

I give him my hand. It’s like we’re meeting for a job interview. He gives it one firm small downward yank.

‘I’m Justin,’ says Justin, who’s too far away for a handshake, so waves.

I can’t stop raking Fin’s features for resemblance to Susie’s. It’s the tingle of having a shadow of her returned to me, her genes in someone with even less body fat, and more testosterone.

But though he has her lips, it’s interesting how character comes out as you age, because they are set in a superior sort of pouty sulk. You canseehe looks down on everyone around him, no acquaintance needed.

Don’t they say they have the face you deserve by forty?Tick tock motherfuc—.

‘You don’t want to get a drink?’ Ed says, of the space on the table in front of Fin.

‘I’m not keen on the coffee here. I’ll get one somewhere else after we’re done.’

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