‘We sound like kindred spirits,’ says Ahmet. ‘I set up a book exchange at the youth club I volunteer at. And yes, people do litter it! What’s your favourite library in London?’
‘The British Library. Obviously.’
‘Me too!’ Ahmet leans forward. ‘I know it’s not the prettiest of buildings, but it’s one of my favourite places in the whole world.’
‘Maybe we should go there together –’
Freddy taps a spoon on the table. ‘This spoon is made of veryexclusivesteel, Katerina. Beautiful, isn’t it? A reallyexclusivespoon. If I could marry it, I would.’
I redden. ‘Yes, Freddy. What a lovely, marriageable spoon.’
Ahmet watches me, eyebrows pulled together, waiting for me to finish my sentence. I mentally run through my usual first-date conversation topics:
Do you want kids?
Would you prefer to marry in the town or country?
Have you been fertility tested?
Freddy will be banging spoons all night if I try any of those. Eventually, I settle on:
‘So. Ahmet. How do you and Freddy know each other?’
‘I’ve worked with Freddy for years,’ says Ahmet. ‘He helped me land my first big property deal. That’s Freddy for you. A great supporter of others.’
‘Freddy supports people?’ I ask. ‘Without getting some sort of kickback?’
‘Of course he does.’ Ahmet gives a kind chuckle. ‘Freddy is one of life’s givers. We all know that, don’t we?’
‘Dowe?’ I sound incredulous. Because I am.
‘Well, I certainly do,’ says Marcus. ‘Freddy has raised so much money for my single-parent housing project. And he still gives free gym passes to anyone in my rehousing program.’
I turn to Freddy. ‘You give out free gym passes to single parents?’
‘I wouldn’t use the term single parents.’ Freddy sips water. ‘I would use the term heroic parents doing twice the work.’
‘How come you’ve never mentioned this before?’
‘I don’t do it to impress people.’
‘But I might have hated you less when we first met –’
‘Look, enough about me.’ Freddy gives a focused look across the table. ‘Marcus. You and Kat both live in central London. Kat’s in Bloomsbury. And you’re in Westminster, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ says Marcus. ‘But I spend a lot of time in Surrey too, these days. The classic London double homeowner.’
‘Isn’t it selfish to own two properties when low-income families are struggling for housing?’ I ask.
SMASH!
A glass falls to the floor. A glass by Freddy’s elbow. However, I am unmoved. Freddy told me to be exclusive. He never told me not to have opinions.
As a waiter hurries over to sweep up the glass, Marcus says, ‘The thing is, Katerina, I need a much larger house outside of London to host writers and artists from oppressive regimes. I give them somewhere to stay while they work on their art. Some of them stay for years at a time.’
For a moment I am utterly silent. Then I turn bright red and mumble, ‘Oh. Right. That’s … wonderful.’
‘I must admit, looking after such a roaming country estate is a challenge,’ Marcus continues. ‘It’s a rather old property and I’m committed to only living zero-emission. So it’s taking a lot of work to bring it up to speed. And money. But you can’t put a price on looking after Mother Earth, can you?’