23
Ruby saw him coming home through her bedroom window. He was holding a yellow Selfridges carrier. His hair was different – softer, less spiky, less manicured. It was the first time she’d seen him since Toby’s birthday and her reaction took her by surprise. A jolt of excitement, a quiver of happiness. The boy she’d shared her home with for more than a year, the boy she’d seen as nothing more than a schoolboy with a job, had turned into a man.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She looked fine. She’d thought about crying when she got home after an interminable, strangely numb Tube journey back from the Wolseley, but changed her mind and decided to have a bath instead. She was glad now, as Ruby had a face that didn’t recover very easily from the indignity of tears.
She pulled out her Rimmel concealer and smeared a little underneath her eyes. Then she blobbed some translucent pink gloss onto her lips and went downstairs.
Con was in the kitchen, boiling the kettle. He jumped when he heard her come in behind him.
‘Hello, stranger,’ she said, pulling open the fridge.
‘Hi,’ he said, turning back towards the sink.
She pulled out a carton of mango and passion fruit juice and poured herself a glass. ‘How are you?’
He nodded. ‘I’m good. I’m fine. How are you?’
‘Excellent,’ she smiled. ‘It’s been a long day, but it’s looking up now.’ She smiled at him.
‘Cup of tea?’ he said.
‘No, thanks.’ She pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Can’t believe I haven’t seen you. It’s weird.’
‘What’s weird?’
‘You know – after what happened last week. I haven’t been avoiding you, you know. I’ve just been busy.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, dropping a flattened teabag into the bin, ‘me, too.’
‘Had a gig last night. Didn’t get home till five.’
‘God, you’ve got more energy than me. I can’t do late nights any more.’
Ruby laughed. ‘You’re nineteen!’
‘Yeah, I know. I’m a growing boy. I need my sleep.’
Ruby laughed again. She glanced at him. He looked as if he was about to leave the room. She stalled for time. ‘I like your hair,’ she said. ‘Looks better without all that stuff in it.’
‘You think?’
‘Yeah. Softer. You look more … mature.’
He snorted and looked embarrassed.
Ruby felt a wave of longing fall across her like a shadow. He was so new, so clean, so unformed. She wanted to touch him. ‘What are you up to tonight?’
He shrugged. ‘Waiting on a couple of calls. Probably heading home to meet some mates.’
‘Home? That’s Tottenham, right?’
‘Yeah. Old school mates. You know.’
‘And if not …?’
‘What?’
‘If you don’t go to Tottenham? Any plan B?’
‘No, not really. Probably just get a DVD and order some food in.’
‘Is your mum in tonight?
‘No. She’s meeting Zoë from work. Going out Stansted way.’
‘Right,’ she said, ‘so … maybe you should just knock your plans on the head. Maybe you should just … stay in.’ She smiled as she said this and cocked her head to one side, but he didn’t seem to be reading her.
‘You reckon?’ he said. ‘Why’s that?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Its just, I’m in tonight. Your mum’s out. Seems a shame not to, you know, make the most of it.’
‘Oh,’ he said, realization finally dawning upon him. ‘Oh, right. Yeah. I see what you’re saying.’
‘So,’ she stood up and faced him. ‘What do you reckon? I’ve got a DVD player in my room.’
‘Christ. I mean –’ He hooked his hand around the back of his neck. ‘– that sounds great. But I kind of promised my mates I’d see them tonight.’
‘Oh,’ she said, mentally untangling the past three minutes of conversation, trying to find the bit where he’d sounded ambivalent about going out. ‘Sorry, it sounded as if you didn’t have firm plans. It was just an option, that’s all.’
‘It still is, if your mates blow you out.’
‘Right. Thanks.’
Ruby touched his arm. She hadn’t meant to, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘I’ll be in my room,’ she said, ‘if you change your mind.’ And then she moved her hand to his cheek. His skin felt like wax under her palm, cool and smooth and pliant. ‘See you,’ she said. She picked up her glass of juice and sauntered from the kitchen, feeling suddenly and horribly as if she was barking up the wrong tree.