Page 154 of Where Do We Go From Here?
‘Of course,’ Wendy tells her. ‘I think I’ll join you.’
‘But you are telling me you stop,’ Manon says.
‘Yes,’ Wendy admits sheepishly. ‘I know.’
‘She almost has, really,’ Harry says in his wife’s defence.
‘Yes, I’m down to three or four a day,’ Wendy says. ‘I’m doing it very slowly. But hell, it’s Christmas Day, isn’t it?’
Manon turns to Celine at this point and rattles off some rapid-fire French that neither Wendy nor Harry understand. But whatever she has said has instant effect, because Celine pulls a face as if she’s been told off and settles back in her chair. ‘She say I must ask if it’s OK,’ Celine says, looking disgruntled.
‘Why? You want to smoke in here?’ Harry asks. ‘Sure, go for it. It’s freezing out there.’
‘No, not this,’ Manon says. ‘But Celine. She does not want to smoke cigarette.’
‘She doesn’t?’ Wendy says uncomprehendingly.
‘Oh, oh!’ Harry says, as the penny drops. ‘She wants to smoke a joint, right?’
Celine smiles shyly.
‘Please,’ Wendy says, gesturing towards the door. ‘Be my guest. That’s not a problem at all, is it, Haz?’
‘Er, no!’ Harry says, comically emphatic.
‘You want?’ Celine asks, pulling a pre-rolled spliff from her jacket pocket and pointing it at him.
‘Absolutely, I want!’ Harry says. ‘It’s been years.’
‘Those two are lovely,’ Harry says, once the girls have left. It’s just after 11 p.m. and they are clearing the table, piling dirty dishes in the sink.
‘I know,’ Wendy says. ‘They’re great, aren’t they?’
‘D’you think that’s why she befriended you? Because you look so much like her mum?’
‘Not only,’ Wendy says. ‘But I suppose it might explain why my drinking upset her so much. It must have been so hard on those kids.’
‘You know, for a minute I thought it was a joke,’ Harry says, shooting her a slightly inappropriate grin. ‘I thought it was photo of you and she was winding me up.’
‘I know,’ Wendy says, breaking into a smile herself, even though she’s not sure why she finds it funny. ‘Sorry… talking about that poor woman,’ she says. ‘Not quite sure why I’m grinning. It’s clearly not funny at all.’
‘No, but you looking so like her kind of is.’
‘I suppose,’ Wendy says.
‘I can’t stop smiling, either,’ Harry says. ‘I think it’s the joint.’
‘That was ages ago.’
‘Well, whatever, it’s nice to see you smile.’
‘I think I am still a bit stoned,’ Wendy says. ‘You know, it made me feel like I was eighteen again? Do you remember those joints we smoked at Glastonbury with that hippy guy with all the piercings?’
‘I do,’ Harry says. ‘I couldn’t stand up for about an hour. We missed David Bowie because of that.’
Harry’s playlist, which has been providing a pleasant soundtrack to the evening, moves on to ‘Every Beat of My Heart’.
‘Who’s this?’ Wendy asks, frowning. It’s not like Harry to listen to soul music.
