Page 16 of Between Us

There was a strained pause that Roisin felt obliged to fill. ‘I’m imagining the kind of stags you get invited on, Matt,’ she said. ‘Tell me if I’m warm. Posh lads in straw trilbies, mirrored aviators and pink polo tops, drinking free pour rosé at cabana pool bars in Ibiza?’ She smiled at him, hoping to communicate that this was entirely friendly ribbing, unlike Joe.

‘Why are you so full of hate, Roisin? Perpetually flooded with rage, aren’t you?’ Matt said, with a real smile in return. ‘You are NOT cleared to board HMS Bants with Bags, Wills and Piggers.’

‘No worries, mate! If you can’t afford it, I can cover it,’ Dev said to Matt.

‘Uhm …’ Matt glanced quickly at other, similarly taut expressions. ‘I’d not feel OK about that, but thanks.’

‘Don’t be daft. All I care about is having you there! And… drum roll … as for my stag destination. We’re going to … MIAMI.’

There was a startled, if not shocked, pause. Any hope that Dev had picked up on the ambivalent response to his Italy reveal was dashed.

‘Is there a Miami in Northamptonshire we don’t know about, or do you mean Miami-Miami?’ Joe said.

‘Yeah, hoping there’s a Miami nightclub in Bolton,’ Matt said to Joe, who ignored him.

‘I’m getting the flights,’ Dev said, waving a palm. ‘Not a thing to concern you, my dudes.’

His dudes made polite noises of disbelief. Meredith skilfully changed the subject by demanding the butter chicken recipe, before Anita could announce a hen do in Australia.

Putting them on this spot, albeit inadvertently, did not feel good. They couldn’t really accept Dev’s lavish hospitality and push back on newly unveiled obligations to travel Europe and America at the same time. They were compromised and complicit. Taking with one hand and trying to say ‘stop’ with the other.

Dev had soared into a tax bracket that several of them didn’t share and likely never would, and he needed to come back down to earth if he wanted to spend time with them.

How had Roisin not grasped what was going on? She’d fretted this trip was over the top, yes, but in the familiar rhythms and patterns of their socialising in south Manchester, the situation hadn’t been so obvious as it was right now.

Had Dev replaced his addiction to narcotic excess withaddiction to this excess: spending money? His Chase Sapphire card no longer chopped out the powder – itwasthe powder?

‘While we’re doing announcements,’ Joe said, ‘there’s one over this end of the table, too.’

10

In the seconds after Joe spoke, Roisin discovered it was certainly true that faking it never really worked. The group must have sensed that Roisin and Joe were faltering.

If it was still old times, there would’ve been an excited, expectant gulp-gasp that they were about to hear news of an engagement. (Roisin’s willingness to swill Möet putting paid to the other possibility.)

Instead, a fully silent gap followed Joe’s declaration, because it turned out they clearly instinctively knew it couldn’t be that either of them had proposed. Odd how microscopic pauses could be so decisively revealing.

Roisin had no idea what Joe was referring to, either. She certainly had no expectation of him pushing his chair out and dropping to one knee.

‘I’ve got to leave earlier than planned on Sunday … to fly to the States,’ Joe said, now he had them all in the palm of his hand. ‘I’ve got a meeting with J.J. Abrams.’

‘FOOK OFF!’ Dev exclaimed, amid squealing. ‘Really?’

‘Is he theStar Trekguy? Or theStar Warsguy?’ Gina said.

‘Both,’ Joe said, basking.

‘This is for a film ofSEEN?’ Meredith said.

‘Yup. Oh, and consider this information under a verbal agreement NDA. I am NDA-ed up to the gunwales.’

‘What’s an NDA?’ Gina said.

‘Non-Disclosure Agreement. A legal way to stop you gossiping,’ Joe said. He added, ‘Not YOU you. In general, “you”.’

‘When did you find this out?’ Roisin said, though she had a good idea.

‘Tonight,’ Joe said. ‘His people reached out to my people, etc.’

---