Page 88 of Out of the Shadows
COSMO
Freddie’s already in the pub by the time I arrive. I’m more than happy to be here when normally I’m be eager to spend every moment with Daniel, but he’s away on business over night. It’s a good chance to properly catch up with Freddie, so when he’d called I jumped at it. A bottle of imported beer sits on the table waiting for me.
“So, are all those spotty students doing your head in?”
“Tell me about it. They don’t even know who’s in the pantheon of the gods.” He tuts and shakes his head. “I mean, they probably don’t even know what pantheon means.”
I don’t think I do, either, but I try my best not to grin as Freddie launches into how useless the first year undergrads are on the course he teaches at one of the London University Colleges
Norse Studies. I don’t think you can get anything more niche if you tried. Freddie’s specialism is the nichest of the nichest. Early Norse history and archaeology, with a particular interest — indeed specialism — in leather working techniques, is about as niche as you can find. I’m glad Freddie’s passionate about it, because nobody else is. Including, it would seem, his stupid, spotty students.
“They’re only on the course because their grades were so bad they couldn’t get in to do a proper course anywhere else.” I sit back and wait for Freddie’s reaction.
“Have I told you before you’re a horrible little fucker?” He glares at me, and I answer with a grin.
“Oh, yes. Plenty of times.”
Freddie grunts, and pretends to be put out, but he can’t keep it going for long.
“So,” he says, a minute later, “what was all that about on Saturday?”
“Don’t know what you mean.” Although of course I do.
Freddie huffs. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Daniel. The guy who sacked you. The guy you claimed had sabotaged your career. The guy you said you hated. And then you pitch up with him at the party. But that’s the least of it, isn’t it? What’s going on, Cos?”
So this is what it’s all about. I push down on the disappointment that my oldest and best friend called not for a friendly beer or two, but to lecture me about Daniel. Disappointment shifts gears into annoyance and irritation. I’m not angry, but it wouldn’t take much as I imagine the three of them, James, Elliot and Freddie, gossiping about something which, frankly, has fuck all to do with any of them. I take in a breath, and count to ten and try to shove it all aside because if I were in Freddie’s place I’d be doing exactly the same thing.
I shrug. “I thought I’d take a leaf out of your book and try out the silver fox experience, and I must say it’s all turning out to be rather successful.”
Freddie narrows his eyes at me. “That’s good, as far as it goes.”
The muscles in my back stiffen. I know what he wants to talk about, but I’m pissed off enough not to hand it to him on a plate. We’ve been in the pub for less than half an hour, and it already feels like this evening with my best friend is coming off the rails. I goad him, because I bloody well feel I have the right to.
“Whythat’s the least of it, andas far as it goes? What are you getting at?”
“There’s no reason to get snappy.”
“I’m not snappy, but you’re being mealy mouthed and that was never you.”
I’m fed up with this already. I rub my hands down my face; it’s only Wednesday but it already feels like it’s been a long week. I don’t want us to fall out, but I feel like I’ve been ambushed.
Neither of us says anything further for a couple of minutes, and the low hubbub of voices in the pub forms a buffer. I glance over at Freddie at the same time he does to me, and when he smiles I feel the stiffness in my neck and shoulders soften.
“He’s nice. Daniel, I mean. Elliot liked him, too.”
Rare and high praise. Relief, and a whole lot of pride, warms me.
“He is.”
“Yeah, but you need to be careful, you know? You don’t want to find yourself in the same position as last time.”
“Which was?” He needs to say it.
“For god’s sake, Cos, you know what I mean. I know Daniel was engaged to be married, to a woman, so doesn’t that ring alarm bells? Because it should.”
Freddie shifts around in his seat, his fair skin reddening. He’s always been easy to read, every thought and emotion emblazoned across his face. I know the shade I’m seeing on him now. It’s called Embarrassment With a Hint of Awkwardness.
“Do you think I’m not surprised about what’s happened?” I say quietly. “But he’s not another Leon. I’ve grown up a lot since that shit storm.” Only four years, but it feels like a lifetime ago in experience.
