Page 55 of Alice Carver Manifests Her Perfect Life
‘Hmm,’ I said tentatively. ‘And you’re sure you really want to go through—’
‘Don’t say it!’ said Astrid shrilly. ‘Do not ask me if I’m sure I want to do medicine. Not if you want somewhere to sleep tonight.’
‘Woah, Astrid. Take a chill pill. I was only going to ask if you were sure you really wanted to go through hot yoga tonight after all that vomming? Can’t be healthy.’
‘What?’ Astrid looked momentarily confused.
‘Thursday night? Your yoga class?’
Astrid pushed back her hair from her forehead and shut her eyes. ‘I completely forgot. And I’m not sure I am in the mood.’
We both looked at each other for a second. Astrid lives for hot yoga. And power yoga. And vinyasa. She’s a fanatic. A tall, bendy, freakishly strong obsessive yogi. She’s always in the mood for yoga.
‘Do you want a glass of wine or something?’ I said hopefully.
Astrid sighed. ‘I should do work. I’ve got so much work. I’ve got cases to review and I’m trying to study basic anatomy.’
‘Yeah. Or you could get into your PJs, order pizza, drink wine, and catch up onNewsnightwith me. Sister time.’
‘You’ve never watchedNewsnightin your life,’ said Astrid.
‘Okay, well, if you insist, we could watchBelow Deck.’
Astrid harrumphed. I could tell she was considering it.
‘Everyone needs a break,’ I said. ‘Even you. And you really need to eat something proper if you’ve been sick. I’ll pay.’
Astrid looked down at herself, and brushed ineffectively at stains on her top and trousers. Then she stopped and examined her hands and gave a small dry heave. ‘Okay,’ she said, suddenly making a move. ‘I’m going to get changed out of these clothes because they are pretty saturated with bodily fluids – most of them mine. If you’re paying, I’ll have the capricciosa – make sure it’s from Little Italy. And you need to pour the wine.’
I didn’t need telling twice. I selected a nice frosty bottle of Pinot gris, and was just pouring a couple of generous glasses when Aziz came in. Perfect timing. ‘Az!’ I beamed at him. ‘Wine?’
‘Not for me, Alice,’ he said. He looked at the second glass. ‘Do you have someone coming over?’
‘It’s for Astrid.’
Aziz paused. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I thought she looked a bit tired, so I suggested wine and takeaway pizza.’
‘Good,’ said Aziz. ‘Good. Well done, Alice.’
‘For someone who’s praising me, Az, you look a bit sad?’
‘No, no, all good, Alice.’
‘What pizza do you want? Astrid said it had to be Little Italy. My treat. Hope Deliveroo do it.’
Aziz gave a little laugh but it didn’t sound super cheerful. ‘Yeah. Deliveroo do Little Italy.’
‘Super!’ I said. ‘What do you want?’
I took a sip of the wine. I am a huge fan of the wine-fridge way of life. Honestly, Aziz and Astrid have a better set-up here than a bar. Their wine is so nice (except for the Friulano). I checked Little Italy pizzas on Deliveroo. Bloody hell. They weren’t exactly kebab prices.
‘Um, Aziz,’ I began. ‘Is there anywhere else a bit cheaper I could get pizza from?’
Aziz sighed. ‘If you get her to eat pizza from Little Italy, I’ll not only pay for it, but I’ll give you £50.’
I nearly choked on my wine with delight. Today was shaping up well. ‘Er… done!’
