The first meeting was always going to be hard, Glory told herself on her way back south. Still, she was happy and needed to share the news. She was glad to finally have something good to tell Julian, something which might erase their last few arguments. Julian would be happy for her, she’d say she couldn’t have done it without him, and their relationship would be reset. Even her calls going unanswered didn’t dampen her spirits, and she made a detour to stop by Pharoah’s.
Julian wasn’t in the barbershop, he was across the road, standing outside the newsagent laughing with a woman that Glory didn’t recognize. This woman was short with long blonde cornrows adorned with little gold hoops. Julian said something and the woman laughed, placing a hand on his forearm and shaking her head, the twinkling hair jewelry taunting Glory.
When Julian looked up from his companion, he saw Glory outside the barbershop. He said something to the woman, touching her lightly at the elbow and she turned and looked in Glory’s direction. Julian crossed the road and Glory tried to stay bright.
“I won the lottery!” she said, throwing open her arms as he walked up to her.
Julian leaned in to give her a loose hug, looked past Glory and into the shop, and rubbed the end of his nose. He steered her in the direction of Burgess Park.
“Lottery?”
“Yeah, and I’m gonna buy you that ugly car you love so much. What’s it called again? It looks like it’s wearing a muzzle.”
“Bugatti.”
“That’s the one.”
“Cool.”
Glory linked arms with him and they walked on.
“Who was that?” she asked, turning to look back at the woman.
“No one,” Julian said gruffly.
“What’s wrong?” Glory asked after a few minutes of dead air had passed between them. He was killing her vibe.
“I told you I was gonna buy you a Bugatti and you barely reacted.”
“I know you’re lying, Glory.”
“Lying?” Glory was offended. “Wow, so we can’t joke around any more?”
“I’m not in the joking mood—but what’s going on anyway?” The question was impatient.
They were at the edge of the park where boys on bicycles were executing wheelies. They nodded at Julian who returned the greeting as he stopped at a park bench. He hopped onto it, balancing on the backrest with his feet on the seat. Glory sat down carefully and more conventionally beside him. From this position she was looking up at him, but he kept his gaze looking forward.
“I met up with Hope today.”
When the name registered, Julian dropped his indifferent demeanor for just a second.
“For real?”
“Yeah, it was good, a bit awkward at times, but she’s really nice.”
Glory had forgotten all the excited things she had originally wanted to tell him.
“Cool.”
“Julian, what’s wrong? Are you still upset about the other night?” Glory asked.
“Shouldn’t I be?” Julian said, his tone flat.
“I’ve apologized already, can we just move on?”
“Have you though?” Julian finally turned to look down at her, square on.
“Yeah, we’ve talked since then, haven’t we?”
“And in which conversation did you apologize?”
Glory raced through her memories.
“OK, I’m sorry, Julian.”
“What for?”
“For whatever I’ve done that’s so bad that you’re still holding it against me!”
He snickered cynically.
“Wow . . .” Julian shook his head, a mean smile stuck to his lips.
“Who were you flirting with in broad daylight outside the barbershop, anyway?”
Julian kissed his teeth.
“Don’t change the subject. You think you can argue, tell me to fuck off and all sorts and then we’re gonna just pick right back up like nothing happened?”
“It’s not even that deep, Julian,” Glory said, a whiny note leaking into her voice. This wasn’t how the conversation was meant to go.
“To you, Glory. And that’s where we have a problem. You want everything on your terms.”
“I’m sorry, Julian, I really am. I shouldn’t have told you to fuck off and I should have apologized earlier.” She turned toward him and tried to turn on the charm. “Can we kiss and make up now, please?”
“You’ve been moving mad, for real. Got man looking crazy out here.”
“There’s more to life than how things look.”
“Nah, you don’t get it. You disrespected me.”
Glory was losing patience.
“For God’s sake, Julian! What do you want me to do, to get down on my knees and grovel? To kiss your feet like those women in the painting in Pharoah’s? I’ve said I’m sorry!”
Julian shook his head, stood up and hopped down from the bench.
“Where are you going?” Glory snapped, louder and more aggressive than she would have liked.
“You’re talking to me like I’m a dickhead again,” Julian said. “When you’ve fixed your attitude, come and find me.”
“Is your ego that fragile? You’ve got issues!” Glory spat after him, and he stopped mid-stride, turning slowly to face her.
“Yeah, I’m the only one with issues here, right?” he said, sarcasm dripping off of every word. “I forgot that Glory’s always right, and no one can tell you any differently. You see problems where there aren’t any, and when you don’t want to see an issue you don’t. It’s always everyone else with the problems, me, Faith, your mum, your brother-in-law.”
“What the hell has Faith, Michael and my mum got to do with anything?”
Glory rose and the two were in a stand-off, a stretch of path between them.
“OK, let’s take Faith’s husband for example—what has he actually ever done to you?”
Glory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and for a second Julian looked amused at her speechlessness.
“This argument isn’t about Michael, it’s about us! Don’t pretend you’ve been the perfect boyfriend. I’m always having to come and track you down because you never pick up the phone. Sometimes you’re not even at Pharoah’s when you should be! Jumping in and out of black vans, running your “errands” across London—I’m not dumb, Julian, I don’t forget these things.”
Julian laughed, but the laugh was sad and slow. He looked down at his feet, rubbing a hand over his hair, brushing it forward.
“You wanna know what I’m doing?”
He looked up at Glory, his eyes clear.
“I’m paying off a loan. My uncle owns a construction company and he lent me the money to start Pharoah’s. I’m paying him back by working for him.”
“Oh.” Glory felt like she had fallen off of her righteous horse.
“And the woman I was talking to earlier? Her name’s Gabrielle. She wants to open her own shop, hair and beauty, so she came to ask for some advice.”
“OK.”
The air crackled around them.
“But why don’t you just talk to me,” Glory now pleaded. “Instead of making me assume all these different things.”
“No one made you do anything.”
Glory wanted to dig her heels in, but she felt she was losing ground.
“It might seem like a minor to you, but what you said the other night really hurt me. I’m not gonna lie.”
There was nothing fraught in Julian’s tone, he just sounded resigned, but the vulnerability of his admission hit Glory in a tender place. She opened her mouth to respond to that, not with an excuse or deflection, but something similarly honest. Before she could, Julian started talking.
“We’re both going through a lot, and I don’t think now is a good time for us. I need some space.”
“Space?”
Julian nodded soberly. Glory could only look at him. This was definitely not the way that this conversation was meant to have gone.
“What happened? Because it can’t have been just that.”
“Just that? You really don’t get it, do you?”
“I can’t read your mind.”
“And I can’t read yours.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Julian threw his hands in the air and let them drop with a sigh.
“I dunno, man. I think we’ve both got too much pride, right now. Honestly.”
“And you think this is the best way to deal with it?” Glory tried not to sound as distraught as she felt.
“This is just how I need to deal with it.”
“Ah, so that whole, It’s not you, it’s me thing,” Glory said, curling her lip.
Julian let out a laugh of disbelief.
“Nah, it is me, but it’s definitely you too.”
Glory slumped back onto the park bench.
“Fine.”
“I need to get back to the shop, are you gonna be all right?”
“Yeah,” she said, not looking up. She could already trace back in the conversation to where she could have said something that might have steered them both differently. Even now, there was still time to say it, but instead she tracked Julian’s path with her eyes as he turned and walked away.
Glory sat on the bench, unable to move because her arms and legs felt like they were filled with lead. A light drizzle began to fall and still she didn’t move, until she felt a drop of rainwater slip into her collar and down her back.
She called Faith.
“I can’t move, Faith, I keep telling myself to get up and go home, but I feel stuck on this bench. I just can’t . . . move,” she gasped into the phone.
“Are you having a panic attack?!” Faith said, panic in her own voice. “What happened just before you started feeling like this?”
“Julian broke up with me.”
“Oh, Glor’!” Faith wailed. “I’m so sorry, Glory. What the hell? Did he tell you why?”
“He did, but that’s not important right now, I just want to go home, Faith, but I can’t move. It’s raining. I feel like someone’s kicked me in the ribs. Should I call an ambulance?”
“I think you’re just heartbroken, sis—no, not just, because heartbreak is a big deal—what I mean is, you need to get home, get into bed, and just stay there. Can you do that? Do you want me to call Mummy and ask her to come and get you? I’m still at home, but I can come around this evening?”
“No, don’t call Mummy.” Glory took a deep breath and pushed herself slowly to a standing position. “I’m up, I’m going home.”
“OK, let me know when you get there—make sure and don’t forget like you usually do and let me think that you’ve collapsed on some backroad in Peckham!”
Glory managed a faint laugh and they said their goodbyes.
When she got to the house, Celeste was waiting for her in the living room.
“Glory?” her mother sprang up when she entered. “Faith said that you’re not well, what’s wrong? You’re so wet!”
Celeste held a hand against Glory’s forehead, then helped her out of her damp outer layers.
“I’m OK, I just want to go to bed.”
“Yes, go upstairs and get into bed. I’m going to make you pepe soup, ehn? And you must eat it all, even if it makes your nose drip because that’s how the sickness will leave your body.”
Glory pulled herself up the stairs and peeled off her clothes, putting on her pyjamas and falling into bed with her phone in hand. She changed the string of multicolored hearts next to Julian’s name to a single red, broken one, then put her phone on Airplane Mode and left it on the side table next to her bed.
It was when her mother brought in a tray of steaming pepe soup, the broth smelling hot and potent, that Glory remembered Hope. She hadn’t told anyone else besides Julian about their meeting.
Celeste stood over her daughter until Glory gingerly took a sip, panting slightly as the taste of scotch bonnet pepper tore through her tongue. She sniffed. Celeste sighed in satisfaction and sat down heavily next to her.
“Faith said it was to do with a boy,” Celeste said, her voice a gentle purr.
Glory took a breath, ready to deny all notion of romance in her life.
“Was it that boy who came to my house in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, Mummy.”
“Well, good riddance!” Celeste said sternly. “You have to be careful who you attach yourself to in this life. The wrong man will ruin you.”
Glory spooned up a piece of shaki and chewed carefully.
“Did Daddy ruin your life?” she asked, too weary to tread softly.
Celeste stiffened sharply, ready to take offense on her late husband’s behalf but then she looked at Glory, still looking damp and miserable despite her dry clothes and hot soup.
“Glory,” she said finally. “You cannot judge a man by his weakest moments. Do you judge me by mine? Shall I judge you by yours?”
Glory sniffed again but did not answer, her concentration fixed on removing a tender chunk of meat from the bone.
“Why are you making excuses for him?” she replied like a petulant child.
“Excuses, kẹ̀?” Celeste said with a sharp laugh. “Can a man do anything if God did not allow it? Should I start blaming God too?”
When Glory did not answer again, Celeste clapped her hands impatiently and stood up.
“For every bad thought you hold against your father you are just as stubborn as he was!” Celeste said tapping a finger vigorously at her own temple. She watched Glory take another silent, insolent sip and left the room.