‘So the usual is gin and tonic now?’ said Rachel. ‘It’s what my granny drinks.’
‘It’s not like that any more. Some friends of Felix rebranded it.’
‘That was good of them. Where would we be without advertising executives?’
There were some students here tonight, sitting on benches around a long wooden table. Tuition fees and mass graduate unemployment didn’t seem to have dented their spirits, and they were being as annoying as ever. In fact, they were probably worse than before, because instead of books they now had mobile computers and media devices, and instead of looking like beat poets from San Francisco, they were dressed like rap singers from Los Angeles. James shook his head. Few things were more likely to make you feel sad and old than coming to places where you had once been happy and young.
‘So I hope this isn’t a set-up. If it is, then it’s not going to happen.’
‘Don’t you like him?’
‘He’s charming and posh – the things that I least like in a man. And he’s too small – I like men to be at least four inches taller than I am. Plus, if that wasn’t enough, he’s almost certainly gay.’
‘I don’t know why you would think that – you barely know him. He’s always flirting with girls.’
‘Christ, you really don’t have a clue, do you.’
James finished his drink. Maybe Felix was gay, and maybe he wasn’t. It was probably some kind of progress that people couldn’t even tell any more. The key thing was not to get weird about it. Yes, something a bit strange had happened in the club, but so what? It was nothing he couldn’t handle. Being comfortable with having gay friends was one of the things that all grown-up heterosexuals were now expected to do.
‘Well, whatever, gay or not, I can’t believe this is the guy who’s been keeping you away from the Red Lion.’
‘It’s nice to do other stuff. It’s been good for me. I needed to develop a bit, to live in London instead of write strategies about it.’
Rachel rolled her eyes. It was one of the things she sometimes did in planning meetings.
‘Anyway, never mind me. You’ve cut your hair,’ said James.
‘No, men never get that right. I’ve just had it redone and tidied up a bit.’
‘Well, whatever you’ve done. It looks very nice.’
‘Thanks. It won’t last. It never does. I’ve got Midlands hair. Just like the working class, it can’t be oppressed for ever.’
James and Rachel looked at one another for two seconds, each assessing the other. She did look different this evening, and it wasn’t just the hair. She had done other things – a brighter lipstick, possibly something cynical with eyeliner. She looked slimmer too, in a black blouse and bright green skirt. She didn’t look like she did on a Friday night, elbows at the crowded table, the pints of Guinness, bowls of chips and warm air reddening her skin and thickening her face.
‘So, the Nottingham job. When did they speak to you?’
‘Not very long ago. Just a few weeks,’ said James.
‘So no one else knows about it?’
‘No, I didn’t want to tell anyone at work.’
‘But you told Felix?’
‘Yes, I told Felix. I thought it would be good to talk about it with someone who, you know, wasn’t on the inside.’
‘You couldn’t trust me to keep quiet?’
‘Well, I just didn’t want to tell anyone at work. You know what it’s like. I didn’t want Lionel to get worried. You know how he takes these things, and I didn’t want it all coming out in the pub one night.’
‘Is that what you thought? I wouldn’t have told anyone.’
‘No, I know. Sorry. I should have told you.’
Should he have told her? Probably not. He had done the wrong thing for the right reasons. It was hardly the first time.
‘In any case,’ said Rachel, ‘I don’t think Lionel would be as bothered as you think. No one is indispensable.’
‘No, I know that. Of course I know that. But I just didn’t want it to wind him up.’
‘All I’m saying is that people threatening to leave isn’t a big preoccupation at the moment. Lionel’s got other things to worry about.’
Felix returned with the drinks.
‘Rachel, James – you’re two of this city’s most able planners. I know James has explained this to me, but this pub – can’t we do anything about it? It needs a radical overhaul.’
He had kissed Alice in this pub, ten years ago. He had kissed her in many parts of Bloomsbury, but this one had been different. It hadn’t been their first kiss, but it had been their most significant because it had been in front of so many other people. It had been public, and with Alice that was always what mattered most.