I said, grimacing at her. ‘But it’s all right. Onwards and sideways, as Mum says.’
‘He’s an idiot, in that case, and there’ll be millions more,’ said Jess, before turning to Alexi. ‘Lil had a date last weekend but he hasn’t texted her.’
I wasn’t sure I wanted Alexi knowing about my love life, but too late.
‘Lil, I can’t believe it,’ said Alexi, smoothly. ‘I’m sorry. You liked him?’
I sighed. ‘Yeah. He was interesting. And it was my first date in ages. But I reckon if you haven’t heard from someone in five days that’s probably a bad sign, right? You’re a man. If you guys want to see someone again you let them know, no?’ I hoped my tone didn’t come across as desperate.
Alexi looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Normally, yes. But without knowing the details it’s quite hard to say. Sometimes we can be just as complicated as women.’
‘Fiiiiiinally, a man who admits it,’ said Jess, laughing.
Oh God. If there was one thing that Jess liked more than a skinny man who was into art and tight trousers, it was a complicated, skinny man.
‘What about you, Alexi?’ I said. ‘You single?’
‘Ha.’ He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. ‘It’s complicated for me, too.’
Course it was. This was a disaster. Poor, innocent Walt, I thought, who was probably this second pouring wine into plastic cups and brushing down his neatly ironed chinos ahead of the opening. He didn’t stand a chance.
Walt’s gallery was a few minutes away on a little street off Piccadilly. ‘Walter de Winter’ said a sign hanging outside it. By the time we arrived, people were already overflowing on to the pavement outside the gallery, under the sign, plastic cups of white wine in hand. It looked like a circus gathering. A woman with bright purple hair stood talking to a man in a tartan jacket with a large dog asleep at his feet. Behind them was a man wearing a cravat over a T-shirt and a panama hat, deep in conversation with a lady who’d come dressed entirely in black lace. One man, standing with his back to us, had the world ‘REAL’ tattooed across his neck.
‘Alexi!’ shouted someone, so he said he’d come and find us in a minute and slunk his way through the crowd.
‘Let’s find Walt,’ said Jess, so I followed her inside the gallery where I spotted him, just as I’d suspected, in chinos, a sensible blazer and suede loafers, standing in front of a large canvas, gesturing to a lady with cherry-coloured lipstick beside him. We snuck up behind him and stood silently, not wanting to interrupt.
The canvas was entirely black, so far as I could see. As black as a blackboard. It was like looking out through a window into the night. No colour whatsoever.
‘And you can see here,’ said Walt, sweeping his hand across the bottom left-hand corner of the canvas. ‘He intensifies the drama. There’s a sense of heightened emotions, of fury, of anger and despair which is juxtaposed with here, where the mood changes.’ Walt stopped and waved his hand towards the top of the canvas, which was exactly as black as the lower half. ‘It’s calmer, it’s lighter, there’s less chaos. So really what he’s revealing is a true picture of mental anguish. Black and violent at times, but at other moments, far less disturbed.’
The lady with the vibrant lipstick nodded. ‘Hmmm,’ she said. ‘Eeet ees fascinating.’ And then she squinted at a small label beside the canvas. ‘Let me haff a look at the others and decide, but I like thees very much.’
‘Absolutely, take your time. Would you like another drink?’ said Walt, gesturing at her empty glass.
She shook her head and handed him her glass as if he was a waiter. ‘Marvellous,’ he said. ‘Like I said, take your time.’
She wobbled off on her heels and Walt turned to us, his face beaming at the sight of Jess.
‘Hello, you two. Wonderful you could both come. Have you got drinks?’ He leant forward to kiss Jess, then me.
‘Nope, only just got here,’ said Jess. ‘We met your friend Alexi in the pub beforehand.’
‘Oh, Alexi’s here, that’s tremendous news,’ said Walt. ‘I should go and say hello, but will you two be all right?’
‘Yes, yes, course, go and mingle. Chat up the punters,’ said Jess. ‘Don’t worry about us.’
He kissed her on the cheek again and headed towards the door as Jess reached for two glasses of wine from a passing waiter.
She gave one to me and I raised my eyebrows at her.
‘What?’
‘Don’t what me. Poor Walt. I saw the way you were looking at Alexi.’
Jess bit her lip. ‘Oh, Lil. Trouble is, Walt’s too nice. I mean, look at him!’ We turned to watch Walt through the front of the gallery where he was clasping Alexi in a hug. Then Walt released him and stood gesticulating madly with his hands, grinning like a madman.
‘I get it,’ I said, turning back to her. ‘He’s nice but…’
‘Too nice,’ said Jess. ‘In no way do I want to rip that blazer off his back. And Alexi is more my type.’
We looked back through the window. Alexi was rolling a cigarette while Walt held his packet of tobacco.
‘Yeah, he looks dangerous.’
‘Right?’ she said, grinning at me. And then her face fell. ‘Oh, but I’m sorry about Max. He’s not good enough. And I reckon explorers must be selfish fuckers anyway. All that time at extreme temperatures. Can’t be good for you.’
‘I guess,’ I said, shrugging. ‘It’s just weird because I thought we really got on. But, I’m fine. Honestly.’
‘Tosser,’ said Jess. ‘Come on, let’s have another drink. Then I want to talk to Alexi again.’ She glanced back through the window at him.
‘Oi,’ I said, waving my hand in front of her face. ‘Focus. Come on, why don’t you tell me about these terrible paintings?’
Waking up the next morning, I knew something bad had happened. I could sense it. I opened my eyes and felt a few moments of bewilderment as my brain groped for information. Why this lurking sense of guilt?
I reached out my hand for my bedside table. And at least my phone was in its usual… Oh. No, it wasn’t. Fuck. Where was my phone? Why wasn’t it charging on my bedside table? Astonishing, the panic this can induce in a fully-grown woman. No phone! I sat bolt upright in my bed and saw my phone lying on my bed beside my pillow. And then I remembered what I’d done. I remembered why there was something niggling at me. A little voice in my head that was whispering ‘Shame.’ A sinking feeling. Already half-knowing what I’d see, I opened WhatsApp. Yep, well done, Lil. I’d sent Max a message last night at… 2.03 a.m. Brilliant.
