Page 84 of Take My Breath Away
“He’s coming home next week.”
“What?” I can feel my cheeks throbbing and as Perry throws himself into his chair and stares at me, I feel like I’ve been caught out.
“Alfie. Who do you think? He’s finished his shepherding job. As soon as he’s back we’re going to meet up. That’s brilliant. Another drink?” He points to my empty glass.
“No, let’s go.” All I want is to get out of here.
“Oh, okay. Perhaps we can get that Chinese then?” Perry laughs. It’s a light and happy sound but all I can do is answer with a nod as I bundle him out of the pub, and refuse to look back.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
PERRY
As soon as Alfie opens the door he envelops me in a big, hard hug. It feels like both yesterday and a million years ago since I was last with him.
Like me, he’s on the shorter side, but that’s where the comparison ends.
Alfie holds me out at arm’s-length, his face wreathed with smiles. His skin’s tanned although I suppose weatherbeaten might be a better way of describing it and his blond hair’s cropped close to his head. As ever, his style is… eclectic.
Patchwork harem pants and a T-shirt that’s got to be older than the two of us, if theMaggie Maggie Maggie, Out Out Outslogan’s anything to go by, are baggy and out of shape, but they don’t conceal his muscular frame. He looks every inch of what he is: sometime shepherd and urban poet, and always my best friend.
“You’re looking good, mate, you’re looking really good. Come here.” He pulls me into another strong Alfie hug, before he clamps both his meaty hands to my cheeks and gives me a smacker of a kiss on the lips. I roll my eyes, and Alfie answers with a cackle. It’s him, it’s what he does, but I’m kind of glad James isn’t here to see.
He disappears into the kitchen for a moment, and returns with a couple of bottled beers, thrusting one into my hand.
I follow him through to the living room and throw a quick glance at the sofa, and I’m happy to see it’s covered with a multicoloured throw, hiding the stains of God knows what.
The flat’s empty apart from us. No trapeze artists, no yogis, no knife throwers, none of the weird, wonderful, and sometimes slightly scary people Alfie attracts like a magnet. For now it’s just the two of us and time to catch up.
Alfie’s itchy feet mean he could take off again at a moment’s notice. I hope he doesn’t, because I’ve missed him, especially when things went south with Grant. He knows all about that particular shit storm, as I sent him a long message about my change in circumstances. I wasn’t sure he’d got it, what with him exercising his shepherding skills deep in the Scottish wilds, but the short, blunt and very Alfie response ofthank fuck for thathad dropped into my inbox and made me smile.
“How long are you back for?”
“Indefinitely. I need to dust off the suit and join the rat race again for a while, because the coffers are pretty bare.” He knocks back his beer but he still doesn’t meet my eye, and that’s not Alfie. There’s more to this and I want to know what it is.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. I know you too well and you’re looking furtive.”
He laughs, and gently shakes his head. “You could always read me and you’re one of the few who can.” His smile’s warm and full of the friendship and closeness we’ve always shared despite being so different from each other. “I’ve met somebody, up in Scotland, but he actually lives in London. He was there for the emotional transcendence course at the place where I was working, and staying in one of the yurts.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” I try my best to keep my face straight. “So what was he doing? Trying to get his wonky aura straightened out, or his dreams defined, or—”
“Don’t be a cheeky fucker,” he says, but he’s laughing. “He wasn’t actually attending the course. He’d come with his sister who’s going through some sort of crisis. Whilst she was being, erm, transcended, he went walking in the hills and helped me with tending the sheep. We’ll see how things go. Another beer?”
He jumps up and dashes to the kitchen. It’s likely all I’ll get out of him, at least for now, so I won’t push.
“So no come back from that tosser Grant?” he asks, before he takes a glug from his bottle.
I shake my head. “No, nothing. He’s long gone.”And he won’t be coming back, not after the pasting James gave him. “It’s all in the past. I’m with James now.”
He’s peering at me over the rim, his eyes narrowed. For a moment he reminds me of James, which is kind of weird because the North and South Poles couldn’t be further apart.
Alfie’s blue eyes blaze out from his weatherbeaten face. “The guy who always flirted with you? The one you’ve always had the hots for? I thought you were just renting a room in his gaff, and the next minute you’ve properly moved in with him? You sure that’s wise?”
He’s sounding almost censorious, and I shift on the lumpy sofa. For such a free spirit, unfettered by the bonds of societal norms — his words, not mine — he can be surprisingly traditional in his outlook. I’m feeling judged, for making the best and probably sanest decision in my entire life.
