‘Rose.’
‘Fern! Thank god. I’ve been so worried.’
‘Why have you been worried?’
‘Because! I told you I was going to call tonight at 7 pm. I wanted to see how Alfie was. I called and called, and you didn’t respond.’
I wait. ‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it? Fern, you could have been lying dead in a ditch for all I know.’
‘What would I be doing in a ditch?’
‘Fern!’ She exhales exasperatedly.
‘I don’t remember you saying you were going to call,’ I say. ‘What time is it over there?’
‘It’s two hours after we were supposed to talk,’ she says. ‘When you didn’t answer, I had to go through my emails to find Mrs Hazelbury’s number and then I asked her to look through your window and check that you weren’t dead!’
‘I know. She told me.’
‘I was really worried, Fern.’
Rose sounds agitated. I, on the other hand, am flooded with relief. I missed a call. Not ideal for a worrier like Rose. But no-one has been harmed. No-one has died.
Everything is fine.
‘Where were you?’ Rose asks.
After everything that’s happened, it takes me a moment to remember. ‘At the team-building night. We went bowling.’
There’s a short silence. This is exactly why I hate phone calls. A silence can mean so many things. Has the call dropped out? Is she taking a sip of her drink? Is she waiting for me to say something?
Finally, she speaks. ‘You went bowling?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why? Is this because of the new boss?’
Rose knows how much I loved Janet. ‘Yes. It was compulsory for all staff to attend. It didn’t go well,’ I admit.
I hear her exhale. ‘Oh, Fern. Did you get overwhelmed?’
‘A little,’ I say, deciding not to tell her about the sensory meltdown. Rose worries too much as it is.
‘You must be tired,’ she says. ‘How did you get home?’
‘A friend drove me.’
Another pause. ‘Which friend?’
‘Wally.’
The longest pause yet. ‘Is Wally a guy?’
There’s something about Rose’s tone that irritates me. Of course she could never just be happy that I have a guy friend! I also feel irritated at myself. Why do I need her to be happy? That’s the strangest thing about having a sister, in my opinion. The way you can be mad at them and want their approval all at once.
‘Yes. He’s a guy.’
‘Where did you meet him?’
‘At the library. He was taking a shower.’
‘A shower?’ Rose sounds mad.
‘He doesn’t have a shower,’ I explain. ‘He lives in his van.’
I glance out the window and am pleasantly surprised to see the van is still out there. I squint at the driver’s seat, trying to spot him. The van is in darkness but it’s possible that he’s in the back. Maybe he’s already gone to sleep? I kneel on my couch to get a better view.
‘So let me get this straight. You’ve been bowling tonight, and you were driven home by a man who lives in his van?’
From my kneeling spot on the couch, I replay the sentence in my head and find it accurate. ‘Yes.’
‘Fern, you need to be careful. This man could be trying to take advantage of you. For money or food or even sex!’
I smile at the last part. If only she knew.
There is a knock on the door. I startle and fall off the couch onto the floorboards.
‘Fern! Are you all right?’
‘Fine,’ I say, straightening up. ‘Er, Rose . . . I’ve got to go. Someone is at the door.’
‘At this time of night–’
I end the call and get to my feet. Almost immediately the phone starts to ring again, but I ignore it, flinging open the door.
It’s Wally.
‘I didn’t answer your question,’ he says.
‘What question?’
Wally’s cheeks turn crimson. ‘Well . . . we were talking about Adam and Eve? And you said . . .’
He drifts off. I wait. Wally rubs the bridge of his nose under his glasses.
‘I said . . .?’
Wally lets go of his nose and steps into my flat, grinning. ‘Are you really gonna make me say it?’
‘Say what?’
He shakes his head. ‘You are funny.’
I’m not sure why I’m funny, but as he sweeps me into his arms and presses his lips to mine, it seems moot, as I couldn’t have answered him anyway.
Sex with Wally is a pleasant surprise. The few times I’d had sex with Albert, it had been with duty, even with curiosity, but each time he crawled his way around my body I could barely think of anything else but the moment it would be over. With Wally, I find myself having a lot of thoughts. Thoughts of . . . Maybe we could try this next?, or What is it that you are doing there and why does it feel so good?, and How can I arrange for us to do this all the time? The fact that I was trying to get pregnant escaped my mind entirely until the moment it was over. When I do remember, I can’t find it within myself to care.
‘Is it safe?’ he’d asked, when we were both naked and he was hovering over me.
An odd question, I thought, but then I supposed it was important that one felt safe when they were in a new environment. I’d taken a few moments to ponder this, finally determining that while it wasn’t impossible that a madman could burst into my flat at any given moment wielding a handgun, neither was my flat war-torn Syria. So, after an appropriate amount of consideration, I’d replied, ‘Yes. It’s safe.’
And that seemed to be the right answer because everything commenced rather quickly after that.
Afterward, I couldn’t stop giggling. When Wally asked me why, I couldn’t explain it. A physical reaction, I decided, was the only explanation.
‘I think I had an orgasm,’ I said. ‘I mean . . . I’m not sure. How do you know, do you think?’
Wally rolled over
