Girl 99 by Andy Jones

Author:Andy Jones [Jones, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503942295
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2017-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

‘Well,’ says El, ‘are you gonna tell me, or do I have to throw a tantrum?’

After El’s performance the last time we met, I rearranged tonight’s meal for six thirty – an hour earlier than usual. Accordingly, El and I are the Lucky Dragon’s sole diners. It’s a little light on atmosphere, but my friend can curse and shout and twitch and drop things with impunity.

El slaps the table. ‘How many!’

‘Ninety-seven,’ I say, unable to suppress a guilty smile.

‘Fuck off.’

I nod.

‘Wha was it lass time? Lass time we were here.’

‘Ninety-five,’ I tell him.

‘So thass . . .’ Dr Laurence Christopher’s brow furrows as he wrestles with the mathematics. ‘Two. Two in two weeks.’

‘Uh-huh. Two in three days actually, but who’s counting?’

‘Bullshit.’

I shake my head. ‘Worried you’re going to lose your bet?’

Jiang arrives with a trolley bearing enough food for four rugby players.

‘Careful, Jiang,’ says El. ‘Tom’s in season.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ says Jiang. He cleans scattered fragments of prawn cracker from El’s side of the table and arranges our various dishes. ‘Do you need anything else?’ he asks without irony.

‘Two more beers,’ says El.

‘One more,’ I say.

El scowls as Jiang retreats to the kitchen. ‘You’re worse’n Phil.’

‘How is he?’

El shrugs. ‘Who’re these women then?’

‘Someone I work with—’

‘“Brace yourself?” She doesn count.’

‘Someone else.’

‘You’d think they’d’ve learned by now. D’they have a club? Secret hanshake?’ El mimes a masturbating hand.

‘Yes, very clever.’

An image of Verity pops into my head, and I feel pretty bloody puerile. I’m tempted to mention her to El, but in this context, and with him in this mood, it feels neither appropriate nor well advised. It would have been nice to have a drink with Verity the other night, and I could have made time for one, but the opportunities for me to make a good impression were far outweighed by their opposite number. And I have only myself to blame. And maybe El – this bet was, after all, his idea.

Jiang returns with a bottle of Tsingtao. I pour a third of it into El’s plastic glass, and the rest into my own.

El downs half of his drink in one go. ‘Who else?’

‘Who what?’

‘Who else d’you fuck?’

‘My estate agent,’ I say, sighing.

‘I thought that only happened in wank mags.’ Something dawns on El. He drops his fork and levels a finger at me. ‘You’re movin’ouse?’

‘Thinking about it.’

‘Why?’

‘Just . . . you know, seemed like a good idea.’

‘Where to?’

‘Haven’t decided.’

El shakes his head. ‘So what you gonna do? Sleep in your car?’

‘I sold it.’

‘The Mini?’

I nod.

‘Nice car, that,’ says El.

‘I know.’

‘So why’d you sell it?’

I take a long pull on my beer. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘You’ve got issues,’ says El. ‘You do know that?’

‘Yup. I do.’

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