Page 78 of The Reboot
‘But why should he have to cope?’
‘Because this is the world he lives in, and he wants to be a part of it. People drink. He can’t control what everyone else does, and he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t expect other people to change to accommodate him.’
‘But you’re his friend. Wouldn’t it be the kind thing to do, to consider his feelings?’
‘I am. Honestly, Roly would hate it if I felt I couldn’t have a drink in my own home if I wanted one.’
He sipped his water and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You know, I’m finding your discomfort with my sobriety quite telling.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Maybe you don’t like the fact that I’m not your partner in crime any longer.’
‘What?’ She reared back, indignant. ‘I haven’t seen you in forever. You haven’t been my “partner in crime” for a long time – not that I think having a glass of wine is a crime, by the way.’
‘Why so defensive? Could it be you feel threatened by my sobriety because it’s something you need to address in yourself?’
Ella frowned, as if giving this serious thought. ‘Nah,’ she said then. ‘I just don’t see any point in denying yourself the pleasure if you don’t have to. If you have a drink problem, I’m glad you’ve got it under control. I really am.’ She reached for the bottle and topped up her glass. ‘Lucky for me I don’t, so I can still enjoy this delicious Sauvignon Blanc.’
‘You’re evil,’ Andrew grinned teasingly, as if she was really tempting him. But she knew no wine, no matter how delicious, would ever taste as good to him as being smug felt. ‘But nothing tastes as good as being sober feels,’ he said, confirming her suspicions.
Had he always been this joyless, she wondered, this earnest? She used to like herself around him; liked the person she was with him. Now he just seemed to bring out the worst in her.
She stood. ‘Well, I’ll get the salmon in the oven. We’re having it with new potatoes, salsa verde and roasted asparagus. Hope that’s okay?’ It suddenly occurred to her that it might not be. He used to eat fish, but maybe that had changed too. She waited for him to tell her he was a vegetarian now, bracing herself for the onslaught of self-righteousness. She knew he’d be unbearable about it if he was.
‘Sounds delicious!’ He licked his lips, and she felt irrationally irritated. She didn’t want a fight, she reminded herself.
‘I was making it for Roly,’ she told him, still feeling a childish need to oppose him. ‘You just lucked out.’
She gave herself a talking to as she drained the potatoes and plated the salmon and asparagus. She’d invited Andrew over. She’d wanted company, and here he was. He’d done nothing wrong, so why was she behaving so churlishly towards him? So he’d changed. Or she had. That didn’t mean they couldn’t have a perfectly nice time together. It might be interesting getting to know this new Andrew. And even if it wasn’t, if he’d become someone she didn’t like and she never wanted to see him again, she could at least be civil and friendly for a few hours. She brought the food to the table, determined to cheer up and try to make it a pleasant evening for both of them. How hard could it be?
‘So how’s work?’ Andrew asked as he cut into his fish.
‘It’s great. I really love it!’ She considered telling him about the new jackets coming in today, the reason she’d planned a celebratory dinner, but thought better of it.
‘Really?’ He looked dubious. ‘Well, I suppose it’s a good way to ease yourself back into things, while you look for something more permanent.’
‘It is permanent.’
‘Yes, but I meant something more in your field.’
‘What field? I don’t have a “field”, Andrew. I’m really lucky Jake and Dylan took me on. And there are lots of ways I can progress there too.’
‘But it’s not what you want, is it?’
She shrugged. ‘It may not be what I’d envisaged for myself before, but things change. People change. It’s true I never saw myself working in business, but I’m finding it really interesting.
‘Youhavechanged. What do you like so much about it?’
‘I like that we’re putting something real and tangible into the world, not just tossing ideas around.’ She thought about those drowsy afternoons in tutors’ studies discussing political theory, the endless circular debates around cafeteria tables. ‘I like that it’s quantifiable, that you can measure results in numbers and percentages. I enjoy working on marketing campaigns because I can see exactly the improvements I’ve made. It’s satisfying.’ She smiled. She’d never analysed and articulated it for herself before. ‘How about you?’
‘I’m still just tossing ideas around.’ He smiled. ‘Slaving away at the coalface of academia, griping about internal politics … the usual. I may not be able to see the effects of my teaching in hard figures, but I hope I’m having some positive influence on young minds.’
‘What about your social life? You said you’re not seeing anyone?’
‘No, not at the moment.’ He met her gaze across the table and shot her one of his intimate looks. They used to make her go weak at the knees. ‘I was in a relationship for the last couple of years, but we broke up a few months ago. Alice is a historian, specialising in Medieval History. She’s English, and she moved back there. She’s lecturing at Oxford now.’
Trust Andrew to lead with his girlfriend’s academic credentials! She was just asking about his love life, not looking to book her for a lecture series. But he’d always done the same with her whenever he was introducing her to someone, as if she was defined by her degrees and qualifications. He was such an intellectual snob.
