Theft by Luke Brown

Author:Luke Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary fiction;literary fiction;comedy;drama;love story;realism;property;gentrification;division;gender;class;region;politics;Brexit;England;London;North of England;Lancashire;Blackpool;North South;divide;Europe;My Biggest Lie;Canongate;Gary Shteyngart;DBC Pierre;Paul Murray;Geoff Dyer;George Saunders;Sam Lipsyte;gentrification;Martin Amis;Sally Rooney
Publisher: And Other Stories Publishing
Published: 2020-01-16T13:01:38+00:00

*

At about six I could tell it was time to leave, and I said I would be on my way.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Sophie.

‘Just back east. Home.’

‘Are you going out?’

‘Not planning to.’

‘Hmm. Walk me to the Tube, will you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Actually, Sophie, we did want to talk to you about something first,’ said Andrew. He looked at me and round towards the door.

‘Well, can Paul stay while you do?’ she said.

‘Um,’ said Andrew. ‘I suppose it doesn’t matter.’

‘And actually there’re some books I wanted to borrow – can I take them?’ Sophie said, leaving the room and pacing up and down the hallway.

‘Yes, just show them to me first in case I need them for a course or a piece.’

Emily stood up. She ran a sink full of water and started putting pans into it.

‘I’ll do that later, darling,’ said Andrew.

‘Do you want me to wait in your living room?’ I asked. ‘While you talk about whatever you’re talking about.’

‘No, stay,’ said Andrew. ‘Right, Emily?’

‘Yeah, why not?’ she said, sitting down again, before getting back up and putting the kettle on.

We sat there waiting for Sophie, whose company I was beginning to look forward to having to myself. I was curious about the type of alliance we were going to form.

‘So what was this thing you wanted to tell me?’ she asked when she came back in with a pile of books, and her bag on her shoulder.

‘Sit down, Sophie,’ said Andrew.

‘I’ll hear you whether I’m standing up or sitting down,’ she said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

‘Fine. I’ve asked Emily to—’

‘This is the best translation, isn’t it?’ said Sophie, holding up a book.

‘I’ve asked Emily to—’

‘We’ve decided together to,’ said Emily.

‘Yes, we’ve decided together to… that we’d like to get married.’

‘Oh,’ said Sophie.

No one had looked at me once during this exchange except Sophie, a quick glance of panic. I didn’t say congratulations or anything at all.

Sophie coughed. ‘Just to be clear: you are going to get married? When?’

‘We won’t wait long,’ said Andrew. ‘The end of the summer, perhaps early September.’

‘Congratulations,’ I said, to break the silence.

The engaged couple looked in my direction and smiled with their mouths shut. While they were looking away from her, Sophie pretended to vomit, composed herself and said, ‘Yes, very well done. Now I presume it’s my job to tell Mum about this. Have you thought about Mum at all in this?’

‘I’ll call her this evening,’ said Andrew.

‘Don’t call her this evening. If you call her this evening I’ll have to go home and pick up the pieces, and I might have other plans this evening.’

‘There won’t be any pieces to pick up, Sophie. We’ve been divorced for eight years.’

‘Eight years is nothing. Eight years is eight weeks.’

‘That’s startlingly mature and nihilistic of you, Sophie, but in this case eight years is eight years. I do still speak to Jean as you know, and she’s fully aware of my relationship with Emily.’

‘That’s what you think. You don’t live with her.’

‘No. I live with Emily, and I will be marrying her this summer.

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