You Had Me At Hello

Simon returns with two chunky lowball glasses full of ice. ‘Lemon in the vodka … lime in the G&T.’

‘Thanks,’ we twitter in unison.

He gets a round in without getting another for himself? I’ll have to tell Rhys these men do exist. He’d probably recommend Simon donate his brain to medical science. Immediately.

We do the obligatory amount of ‘getting to know you’ chat, and after establishing Caroline’s an accountant, Simon goes off on a tangent with her.

‘How’s Abigail?’ I ask Ben.

Abigail, Ben’s bug-eyed, skinny little sister, was around thirteen or fourteen when we were students. Ben doted on her in the way much older brothers usually do. Ben warned me before I met her that she had Asperger Syndrome, which meant she said whatever was in her head, with no checks, balances or social graces. Sounds no different to most of my family and my boyfriend, I joked, though privately I was apprehensive. What if she asked why I had sideburns? When I met her, I found she was one of those rare people who have few unkind impulses or nasty thoughts so it didn’t matter as much as it might have. She admired a knitted hat I had bought at the student market, with: ‘Can I have it, please?’ Ben was appalled.

Afterwards, I sent her one similar. Ben said she was so pleased she was ‘practically in tears, the gimp’, even though it was so large for her it made her ‘look like one of the aliens from Mars Attacks’. He reported this in a letter, having taken the unusual step of writing to me during the holiday break.

‘Abi is,’ Ben smiles, ‘really well, actually. She has a part-time job in a travel agent’s. My aunt works there so she looks out for her. And she still lives with my mum, so it’s good knowing neither of them are on their own.’

I remember how much he used to worry. ‘That’s great.’

I recall the way Abigail once attached herself to me, and say: ‘I bet she loves having a sister-in-law.’

Ben grimaces. ‘Hmm, she did at first.’

I make a questioning face.

‘Abi assumed she was going to be a bridesmaid at our wedding. Liv had already asked her two friends. She said she wasn’t going to sack one of them because Abi jumped the gun. And Liv said if she had Abi, she’d have to have her demonic nieces and she wanted to avoid that at all costs. I tried to explain Abi’s not manipulative, she doesn’t understand. Well, you know how she is.’

I find it touching he presumes I understand Abi, despite all these years.

‘You couldn’t have intervened, somehow?’ I ask. ‘I know how tricky these things get.’ Do I ever.

‘I wanted to. I tried. Ultimately I couldn’t tell Liv who to have as bridesmaid.’

‘Ah. Sure.’

‘Abi dug her heels in, got into a “bridesmaid or nothing” mindset. It was so political between my mum, Abi and Liv. I stayed out of it. Anyway, upshot is that things have been a bit strained between all of them since. Or they are between my mum and Liv. Abi’s forgotten about it. I’m sure they’ll sort it out eventually.’

I think of Ben’s mum’s easy laughter when she met me, and for a split second imagine a parallel universe where I’m her daughter-in-law and Abi was my bridesmaid, and how well we’d all get on. More of my fantasy fiction: I should throw in a few elves as ring-bearers.

‘Will you give Abi my regards, if you speak to her?’

‘Course,’ Ben says. ‘She used to ask after you a lot.’

We both pause, at the ‘used’. How did he explain our terminated friendship, I wonder? How did he think of me? If he thought of me at all …

This is the first conversational pothole of many on the road that lies before us, if we’re going to be friends. It’s possible Ben doesn’t see the start of anything here, only a favour to another friend. A trip down memory lane, a swift three-point turn and back out again, foot firmly on accelerator.

Ben’s obviously thinking this way too, because he says: ‘This is mad, isn’t it?’ gesturing at me, him, our being together. ‘Where does the time go?’

I’m sure it went faster for you, I think, nodding. Caroline and Simon’s tandem conversation about high finance shows no signs of stopping. Ben therefore obviously deems it safe to ask: ‘What happened with you and Rhys? If you want to talk about it? Totally fine if you don’t …’

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