I stare at him. It?s not like David to talk about his work like this.
?David, is everything all right??
?Of course it is.? He gives my hand a squeeze. ?But I?m afraid I?m going to be away next weekend. I?ve got to go to Geneva on Thursday and I?m probably not going to be back till Monday.?
?Next weekend??
It?s as if fate wants me to go to Rome. As if I?mmeant to go.
?Yes. It?s a bugger, but I need to go. Are you going to be okay??
?Of course I am,? I say brightly. ?David, I am a grown-up, you know.?
?I know. I just enjoy our weekends together, that?s all. I like waking up with you on Sundays . . .? He?s kissing my hand.
?Uh huh, and what else do you like??
David stands up and starts kissing my neck.
?I like going to bed with you on Saturdays.?
?I see. And what?s the day today? I can?t seem to remember . . .?
?Saturday.?
?Of course it is.?
David puts his arms around me and picks me up. Eliminating all thoughts of Rome from my head, I wrap my legs around him and he carries me to the bedroom.
?I also like taking your clothes off on Saturdays . . .?
?I see . . .?
?And I like . . .?
An hour later we manage to salvage some of the Bolognese sauce, but the spaghetti is completely burned and the pan is ruined. Evidently leaving the sauce to cook for an hour while you ravage your girlfriend is not the same as leaving it to simmer, stirring regularly. We opt for Bolognese on toast and eat it watching ?Casualty.?
I hate watching ?Casualty.? Whenever you see someone do anything, you know it?s going to end in tears. Like, crossing a road? They?re going to get hit by a car. Cooking something? There?s going to be boiling oil everywhere and probably a lifelong handicap. It?s too gruesome. I?m watching with my hands over my eyes as a small boy climbs onto a tall wall, and I know he?s going to have a horrible fall, when the phone rings. Without thinking, I tell David to pick it up.
I assume it must be a crank caller, because I hear David say ?Who is this?? in a really shitty tone. I often get calls from people thinking my number is a Chinese take-away.
?Yes, I thought it was you,? he continues in a voice I hardly recognize. ?Look, you know the situation. Don?t press your luck or you won?t enjoy the consequences.? And he hangs up.
His cheeks are red. I look up, bewildered. ?Who the hell was that??
?Your friend Mike,? says David in a very clipped voice.
?Mike??
I need a second or two to gather my thoughts. My heart is racing. What if Mike said something about Rome? And how dare David tell Mike not to call me again, even if Mike is trying to seduce me. Unless he knows, that is? This is terrible. Guilt surges through my veins and I go on the offensive to make myself feel better.
?I?m sorry, did you just tell someone, a friend of mine, a friend of ours, actually, not to call me again? How dare you??
My voice is quivering, but as expected my feelings of guilt are ebbing away as anger and indignation take their place. If we were on ?Oprah,? I?m sure I?d have a lot of the audience on my side. It just isn?t on for David to talk to my friends like that.
?Georgie,? David says firmly, ?Mike is bad news. I don?t want you to have anything to do with him.? This is so unlike him; he never tells me what to do. Except when he?s worried, like the time I walked into a busy road without looking. He was very cross with me then.
David isn?t looking at me either, which is odd. I suddenly remember the strange comment he made earlier when I told him about catching up with Candy. He must have seen her. She?s probably told him everything I said about Mike. Oh shit, shit, shit.
I reach for his hand in a conciliatory gesture. ?David, me and Mike, you know, we go back a long way, but you know that there?s nothing between us now. Come on, don?t overreact. We?re just friends.?
?I?m perfectly aware how far you go back?I was there, remember,? David says bitterly. ?And I would hardly call someone you?ve barely seen for two years a friend. Georgie, there are things about Mike that you don?t know and don?t want to know. Just do as I say and have nothing further to do with him.?
?Do as you say? Did you just say ?do as I say?? Who the bloody hell do you think I am?? I am livid now. Even if David does suspect something, he can?t start ordering me around like a schoolgirl.
?I think you are a sensible, rational person. I think you should trust me.? David is talking very slowly.
?Yeah, well, I think you should start treating me with a bit of respect.?
?Respect? Is that what Mike showed you? Screwing around and spending your money? Would you prefer me to do that??
?Oh just fuck off, will you.? How dare he throw that at me? And anyway, he didn?t screw around. I mean, I don?t
