How had everything gone so wrong? One minute he was contemplating Christmas pudding and sex, his only worry how much he could eat of the former without ruining the latter. Then, the next minute, Monica was throwing him out. And it was all Hazard’s fault.
“I’m really sorry, Monica,” said Hazard, “I was only trying to help.”
“You were playing a game, Hazard. With my life, like we’re on some sort of reality TV show. I’m not your charity case, or your social experiment,” Monica spat back at him.
What on earth could Riley say to make her understand?
“Monica, I might have met you because of Hazard, but that’s not why I’ve stayed with you. I really care about you. You have to believe me,” he said, suspecting that his words were falling on stony ground. Monica pivoted on a heel to glare at him. He wished he’d stayed silent.
“I don’t have to believe anything you say, Riley. You’ve been lying to me all this time. I trusted you. I thought you were real.”
“I never lied to you. I didn’t tell you the whole truth, I admit, but I never lied.”
“Bloody semantics, and you know it!” Semantics? What were they? “You were only with me because of the book. And I thought it was fate. Serendipity. How could I have been so stupid?” She looked as if she might be about to cry, which Riley found way more alarming than her anger.
“Well, that’s kind of true,” he said, trying to convey his sincerity with his tone, “in that you seem so incredibly strong, but I knew from the book that, inside, you’re really”—he grasped for the right word, finding it in the nick of time—“vulnerable. I think that’s what’s made me love you.” He realized that he’d never used the word love with Monica before, and now it was too late.
For just a second, Riley thought that his words might have cut through. Then Monica picked up the Christmas pudding, which was mercifully no longer alight, but did still have a very prickly piece of holly sticking out of it, and threw it, overarm, like a shotput. He wasn’t sure if she intended to hit him or Hazard, or both of them. He stepped sideways, and it landed in a sticky heap on the floor.
“Get out!” she yelled.
“Riley,” said Hazard under his breath, “I think it’s best if we do what the lady says, and wait for things to calm down a bit, don’t you?”
“Ah, so I’m the lady now, not stupid bitch? Patronizing arsehole!” said Monica. Riley wondered what on earth she was talking about. Had she completely lost it?
They backed out of the door, lest Monica throw anything else in their direction. Riley saw Julian a couple of blocks ahead of them. He called after him, but Julian didn’t hear. From the back, he looked like a much older man than the one Riley knew. He was hunched over and shuffling, as if he were trying to have as little impact on his surroundings as possible. A taxi drove past, splashing water from a puddle over Julian’s bare legs. Julian didn’t seem to notice.
“This is all your fault, Hazard,” said Riley, realizing, but not caring, that he sounded like a petulant child.
“Hey! That’s not fair. I didn’t know you weren’t going to tell her about The Authenticity Project. That was totally your decision, and a rather stupid one, if you don’t mind me saying. You should know that withholding a key piece of information never ends well,” Hazard protested. Riley did mind him saying, actually. Monica was right, Hazard was a patronizing arsehole.
“Look, the bar’s open. Let’s get a drink,” said Hazard, tugging Riley across the road by the arm.
Riley was torn. He wasn’t sure that he really wanted to spend any time with Hazard right now, if ever, but he did want to talk to somebody about Monica, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the drunken revelries of his roommates. In the end, his need to talk won out and he followed Hazard into the bar.
“THIS IS WHERE I found Julian’s book,” Hazard told him, “on that table, right there. It feels like an awfully long time ago. What are you having to drink?”
“I’ll have a Coke, please,” said Riley, who’d had more than enough booze for one day.
“One Coke and a double whiskey,” said Hazard to the barman, who was wearing a pair of flashing antlers with rather bad grace. Riley stepped in front of him.
“Actually, mate, can you make that two Cokes, please?” He turned to Hazard. “You forget, I’ve read your story. You do not want to do that.”
“I really do, you know. Anyhow, what do you care if I choose to hit the self-destruct button? I’m not exactly your favorite person right now, am I?”
“You’re right there, but even so, I’m not letting you screw up your life on my watch. You’ve done so brilliantly. I had you down as a total health nut when I met you on Koh Panam.”
“How about I just have one? That can’t do any harm, can it? And it is Christmas Day, after all.” Hazard looked at Riley like a child who knows he’s pushing his luck, but is giving it a go in any case.
“Yeah, right. And in ten minutes time you’ll be telling me that one more won’t really matter, and by midnight I’ll be wondering how on earth I’m going to get you home. You’ve caused me enough trouble already, frankly.” Riley’s words caused Hazard to deflate.
“Ah, bollocks. I know you’re right. I would have hated myself in the morning. It’s been eighty-four days since I had a drink or a drug, you know. Not that I’m counting or anything,” said Hazard, taking a Coca-Cola, rather unenthusiastically, from the barman. He walked over to the table he’d pointed out to Riley earlier and sat on the banquette.
“Isn’t it strange thinking that last time we had a drink together, we were on the other side of the world on the world’s most perfect beach?” he said to Riley.
“Yup. It was a hell of a lot easier there,” Riley replied, sighing.
“I know, but, believe me, after two months of that you start to realize it’s all totally shallow. All those temporary friendships get really boring. I was desperate to get back to some real friends. The problem is, I’m not sure I’ve got any left. I replaced them years ago with anyone I could find who liked a party as much as I did. And even if I wanted to see those party friends, they’d be pushing booze and drugs on me before I’d taken off my coat. There’s nothing an addict likes less than a sober person. I should know.” Hazard stared into his glass of Coke so mournfully that Riley was finding it difficult to stay angry with him.
“There’s nothing wrong with shallow, mate,” said Riley. “It’s all this depth that causes the problems. What on earth do I say to Monica? She thinks the two of us were playing some kind of game. I know she didn’t look it just now, but she’s actually quite insecure underneath it all. She’ll be gutted.”
“Look, I’m not the world’s expert on what goes on inside the heads of women, as you may have guessed, but I’m pretty sure that as soon as Monica calms down she’ll see that she’s totally overreacted. By the way, impressive reaction speed. I thought she’d got you with that figgy pudding,” said Hazard with a grin.
“She was aiming at you, not me! She must be really angry. One thing Monica hates is food on the floor, even tiny little crumbs, invisible to the naked eye,” said Riley, wryly.
“So how much do you like her?” asked Hazard. “Was I right, or was I right?”
“It hardly matters now, does it?” Riley said. Then, worried that he was sounding a bit harsh, he added, “It was all a bit confusing, to be honest, because of that bloody book. It made me feel like I really understood her. But it scared me a bit too. I mean, I’m only here for a while, and she’s looking for all that commitment. Perhaps this is all for the best.” As he said it, Riley realized he didn’t think that at all.
“Look, give her a day or two, then talk to her. Tell you what, try being authentic, ha ha,” said Hazard. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”
But what did Hazard know? He and Monica were not exactly on the same wavelength. In fact, the only comfort that Riley could find in the situation was that if Monica didn’t like him right now, she really, really didn’t like Hazard.