They were likeFriendsepisode titles. The One Whose Grandad Invented Striped Toothpaste. The One Who Kept A Chinchilla Called Shamone. The One Who Naked Video-Called Him At Three A.M.
‘Ruby,’ Gina supplied, in a calm yet smaller voice.
‘Ruby! Of course,’ Meredith said. ‘The … hot yoga enthusiast. Or maybe that was the other one.’
Conversation moved abruptly to who was going to let Matt in. There was often this shift in tone, in unspoken deference to Gina’s feelings.
Gina’s love for Matt was as powerful and constant as it was unrequited. The group stepped around it delicately while simultaneously not acknowledging its existence. Every so often, they’d try to persuade each other, unconvincingly, that it was long past.
There was nothing to be done. Matt was very fond of Gina. No matter who Gina got involved with – and there was no shortage of men falling at her Barbie-sized feet – they could tell she still yearned fruitlessly for him throughout.
It’s toxic hope, isn’t it?Meredith had said.Who knew there was such a thing.
His carousel of meaningless flings was like artillery fire toGina’s heart. Yet equally, they dreaded the day when Matt met The One, as it would hurt even worse.
Dev darted off to intercept Matt. After a minute, he presented a similarly awestruck guest.
‘This is a bit of alright, eh?! Dev, you’ve outdone yourself. Hello, everyone.’
‘The ensemble is complete! It’s likePeter’s Friendsbut with even worse people,’ Joe said. ‘Wait, what is going on with your face?’
At closer range, it seemed Matt, sharp haircut and otherwise clean shaven, was sporting a thin pencil moustache. Matt put his fingers to his top lip.
‘Is it bad? Ruby told me it looked good.’
‘Rubyis clearly working for your enemies, sorry to say,’ Joe said.
‘Why have you walked here?’ Gina asked.
‘I asked the taxi driver to drop me off when we got closer. Looked too nice to drive through. I wanted to take it all in.’
‘What a good idea. I might have thought of it if I wasn’t so lazy,’ Meredith said.
‘We did stop the car briefly, which is kind of the same.’ Roisin said. ‘Lisbon good?’
‘Lovely. Sunny. Though the hotel gym was below par. Had to queue for the rowing machine. It was quite dehumanising.’
‘Who goes to the gym on holiday?’ Roisin said.
‘Now you know,’ Joe said.
‘Given Matt’s here – a toast!’ Dev said.
Anita had clearly been primed for this moment, alreadybehind the bar and easing a cork from a bottle of champagne, slopping it into a row of glasses. Dev had a cloudy kombucha.
‘To THE BRIAN CLUB!’ Dev declared, once they were handed out. They knocked flutes and echoed him, saying,thebrianclub!while laughing, and in a split second, Roisin understood what this weekend was really about.
She’d been so busy assessing her and Joe’s drift, she hadn’t spotted the group possibly becoming looser at the seams, too.
5
The Brian Clubtitle hadn’t been used in a long while, though it remained the name of their WhatsApp group.
It was based on a notorious incident a decade ago, not long after they all met, while working at Waterstones Deansgate. Brian was a colossal arsehole who used to busybody around the shop most days, being obnoxiously difficult and making specious complaints.
One day, after a fight with manager Dev over a mysteriously bespoiled tome about a cricketing legend, Brian dragged one of the shop stepladders into the middle of the Biography & True Stories section. Upon clambering aloft, Brian pointed –Invasion of the Bodysnatchersstyle, with staring eyes and contorted expression – at Dev.
‘TWAT!’ he shrieked, in the tone usually reserved for ‘fire!’, bringing many customers to a dead silent halt.