Love, Lies and Linguine by Hilary Spiers

Author:Hilary Spiers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2016-12-16T16:00:00+00:00

‘Serious?’ says Ben, looking at himself in the hall mirror five minutes later.

Nats shrugs, biting on a nail as she eyes him up and down. ‘Best I can improvise in the time available. Think of it as a sort of retro Misfits tribute.’

‘You what?’

‘Misfits. It was this great show about—’

‘Oh, yeah.’ He looks at himself again. ‘You sure about this?’

He is wearing Artem’s ripped boiler suit belted with rope, undone to the waist to display his white tee. The legs are rolled over several times to bunch over his trainers. ‘But weren’t theirs orange?’

‘Well, duh,’ says Nats. ‘We don’t have orange, do we? We have blue. I guess, in a poor light and from a distance, if you ignore the colour, there is a very—and I mean very—faint resemblance to Robert Sheehan.’

‘Yeah?’ repeats Ben, instantly feeling a whole lot more cheerful. ‘Robert Sheehan, eh . . .’ He supposes, now he comes to think of it, that his currently mussed hair—the earlier styling totally ruined by his encounter with the hedge—does look a little bit like . . .

‘Don’t start getting up yourself. Like I say, from a very great distance. Anyway, it’s all about attitude, clothes. Look like you feel comfortable, you can wear anything,’ says Nats. Then she remembers. ‘Except, maybe, your sister’s totally fucked cashmere sweater.’

‘Sorry,’ says Ben, meaning it.

‘Yeah, well, I’ll have to think of something, won’t I? While you’re off enjoying yourself. Talking of which, you better scoot. Wanna borrow my bike?’

Ben, in spite of himself, is touched. ‘Nah, ta all the same. It’s only five minutes. Look, I’ll be back just before eleven, okay? Please God they don’t decide to come home any earlier.’ He takes one last look at himself in the mirror. Truth is, the get-up really doesn’t look half bad.

Nats regards him thoughtfully. He’s a bit of a muppet sometimes, but . . .

‘You know what? Here’s an idea. Why don’t you not come back at all?’

‘Eh?’

‘I’ll tell them you went to bed early with a headache or something. They won’t check, will they? Then I’ll get myself off home as per. And you creep in whatever time you like. What d’you think? Is it a plan?’

Ben, rapidly running through the implications of her suggestion, is speechless with admiration. Not only is it a plan, it’s pure genius. No danger of getting back too late (he knows where Daria hides the spare key), no danger of getting caught if Artem decides not to go to bed the minute they get back from the dance. It’ll mean he can go and enjoy himself without busting a gut to sneak back. He won’t have to risk leaving the cottage in his friends’ unreliable care. He won’t have to hold back on the booze either. As ideas go, it rocks. It’s awesome! She’s awesome! He could kiss her. Even though she’s a total smart-arse ninety-nine per cent of the time, he could kiss her. Almost.

‘Ta,’ he says, restraining himself—just—from high-fiving her instead. He has a feeling she might consider that less than cool.

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