Robbie dumped his backpack on the table. “You are looking particularly ragged, my friend.” He opened the fridge door and grabbed a beer. The fridge now smelled of Mr. Muscle rather than fungi and rotting vegetation because Ali was cleaning up for them, but it still contained nothing remotely healthy, unless you counted Budweiser and Toblerone. Oh, and one corner reserved for Rebecca’s fat-free yogurt that was strictly out of bounds to them. Robbie flopped down next to Christian on the sofa.
Christian half opened his eyes and regarded himself critically. He seemed to have ketchup in places that shouldn’t necessarily be smeared with condiments.
“I have spent the afternoon in that popular version of Armageddon they call McDonald’s.”
“Ah.”
“And I am utterly, utterly exhausted.”
“You look it.”
“That is because I have just met the children from hell.” Christian clinked his bottle against Robbie’s and downed a mouthful.
“Ali’s brood?”
Christian nodded.
Rebecca opened the door and strode into the room. “She’s got children?”
Christian and Robbie exchanged glances.
“Why did no one tell me?”
Christian and Robbie exchanged glances again.
“I wasn’t snooping,” Rebecca snapped. “You two don’t realize how loudly you talk. Or do anything else.” She looked pointedly at Christian.
“If you didn’t walk out of the room every time Ali came in, then you might have had a conversation with her about them.”
Rebecca grunted in a way that said “fat chance.” She crossed to the sink and busied herself making a cup of tea. “So, how many kids has she got?”
“Three.”
“Three? Isn’t that a bit excessive?”
Robbie laughed. “You’ve got none, then suddenly, three come along at once. Like buses.”
“And women,” Rebecca added. Robbie sniggered.
She brought her tea to the table and sat down opposite them. “What flavor are they?”
“Two footballers and a shopper.”
“Ages?”
“Fifteen, twelve and the little one’s four, but he could easily be a hundred and four. He’s like Yoda. He misses nothing.”
“Do they call you Uncle Christian?”
“Leave it, Becs,” he warned. “I’m just going to have to try harder. They made it pretty clear they didn’t want me around.”
“Of course they don’t. You’re stealing their mother.”
“I’m not stealing her.”
“Oh.” Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to give her back when you’re finished with her?”
“I want her in my life, Becs. Permanently. If that means I have to make compromises, then it has to be that way.”
“You won’t even compromise about which side of the bed you sleep on, Christian. Speaking of which…” Rebecca pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “That girl Sharon phoned today.”
The boys looked blankly at her.
“You know, the one that spent the night with Robbie just before Mother Earth moved in.” She gave them both a knowing look. “Funnily enough, she phoned for you, Christian.”
Robbie and Christian avoided looking at each other.
“What did she want?” Christian asked.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. What do you think she wants?”
“A repeat shag would be my bet,” Robbie said.
His friend glared at him.
Robbie looked vacant. “What?”
Rebecca held out the slip of paper and Christian took it. He scrunched it up and put it in his pocket without looking at it. “I’m in a committed relationship now,” he said. “Things are different.”
“Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you talk out of your arse, Christian,” Rebecca said. And she left the room, taking her tea with her and banging the door behind her.
Christian and Robbie looked at each other. “Dotty totty,” they said in unison, and clinked their beer bottles together.
Robbie settled into the sofa. “So you think you’ll stay with this bird?”
Christian nodded. “She gives my heart wings.”
“Have you been at the wacky baccy again, mate?”
“No.” Christian’s eyes twinkled. “Why? Have you got any?”
Robbie smiled. “Is the Pope a very fine upstanding Catholic gentleman?”
“I think you’ll find he is,” Christian said.
“Then I will be back momentarily,” Robbie said, springing to his feet. “I think we are both deserving of a little chemical-induced relaxation at the end of a particularly stressful day.”
Christian tried to blow a smoke ring and failed. The spliff had taken the tension from his shoulders and had made the room blur at the edges. He was at one with the soft furnishings and the cushions folded around him like fluffy clouds. He narrowed his eyes and peered through the fug.
“I want to do this right,” he said sleepily.
“Right,” Robbie echoed. His legs were stretched across Christian’s lap and his feet were on the arm of the sofa next to him. Robbie’s feet weren’t fragrant and lovely, but he was Christian’s best, best mate in the whole world, and he wasn’t about to ask Robbie to move them. And, besides, Robbie was balancing the ashtray between his knees.
“Right,” Christian agreed.
“What?”
“This whole commitment thing.”
“Right.”
Christian took a long, soothing toke. “I want to get a job.”
“No, no, no.”
“I do,” Christian insisted. “I do. I do.”
“No, no, no.”
“A nice little nine-to-five job that pays a shit-load of cash.”
“No, no, no!”
“I want to look after Ali. I want to look after her children.”
“No, no, no!”
“I do. Everyone loves children.” Christian waved his hands expansively.
“I don’t,” Robbie said.
“I don’t either. But I will.”
“Becca doesn’t.”
“Okay. Well, not everyone. But nearly everyone.”
Taking another long, lingering toke, Christian, with wavering fingers, passed the spliff back to his friend.
Robbie took it as if it were a china vase. “Do you think we should give Becca some puff?”
Christian shook his head vigorously.
“She’s a bit uptight,” Robbie observed.
“I don’t think she likes Ali,” Christian ventured.
“I like her.”
“I like her too.” Christian sighed. “I love her.”
Robbie grinned inanely. “Awww.”
“I want to go away with her.”
“Awww.”
“I want to take her on a big, nice cuddly holiday with lots of sun and sea and sex.”
“Awww.”
“Awww,” Christian beamed.
“And run up and down the beach without your togs on?”
“Mmm…” they both agreed.
Robbie’s legs hit the floor with a thump as Christian pushed them from his lap. “I’m bloody well going to do it,” he said.
Robbie tried to focus his eyes. “Get a job?”
“What job?”
“I don’t know. I thought you were going to get a job.”
“No, no, no. I’m going on holiday!”
“But you haven’t got any money.”
Christian stood up, weaving slightly like a drunk. He tapped the side of his nose and then giggled into his hand. “But I know exactly where I can get some!”
Robbie licked his lips and waved the spliff toward Christian. “What are you up to, Winter, you bastard?”
“You wait and see,” Christian wandered toward the door, taking the scenic route.
“What was it Rebecca said about talking out of your arse?” Robbie teased
“The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“Is that the same as a leopard never changing its spots?”
“I think it might well be,” Christian said. And, accompanied by his friend, he burst out laughing.