The Night That Changed Everything Read Free Page B

Phnom Penh.
    Jamie nods. ‘Nice, anything I can do?’
    I pluck the red onions from their bag, kicking a basket of wet washing out of the way to make space before handing him one of the knives from the set I bought on the way here.
    â€˜The box says this bad boy can cut through the sole of a shoe,’ I say.
    â€˜That’s an everyday problem solved.’ He laughs. ‘I thought you were skint, though?’
    â€˜Overdraft.’
    Rebecca tuts, but I think she gets why I’m suddenly buying stuff for this place. We haven’t talked yet, but with Danielle moving out, it makes sense for me to move in. That’s why I was happy when I found out she was going. I mean, I like living with Russ and Tom, but I’ll be twenty-eight in a couple of weeks, and I’ve had enough of wondering who stole my cheese.
    I keep imagining cooking for Rebecca every night, always giving her the best portion, and I can’t do that with the single, blunt kitchen knife that she and Danielle have been getting by with for years.
    â€˜Bastard onions,’ says Jamie, burying his eyes in his elbow.
    â€˜It’s weird,’ says Rebecca, ‘chopping onions never had any effect on me.’
    â€˜Shocker,’ I say.
    She gives me a curious look. ‘What do you mean?’
    Seriously? I turn to Jamie for help.
    â€˜To be fair, Becs,’ he obliges, ‘you’re the only girl I know who didn’t cry at the end of
Titanic
.’ He cackles to himself. ‘Actually, Ben is the only lad I know who did, so . . .’
    â€˜I wish you’d stop telling everyone I cried at the end of
Titanic
.’
    Jamie and Rebecca are clearly amused.
    â€˜Hold your breath near the onion,’ I say, ignoring them. ‘Then it won’t make you cry.’
    I can tell he’s sceptical but he does as he’s told, and a minute later the onions are chopped and Jamie is tearless.
    â€˜Maybe you should have tried that trick in the cinema?’ he says.
    Jamie rejoins Rebecca at the dining table while I chop ingredients for the marinade in front of the kitchen window. I can see Natasha and Angus strolling around the perimeter of the green.
    â€˜Tash looks like she’s about to pop,’ I say.
    â€˜Who’s Tash?’
    â€˜Natasha and Angus, your neighbours, from downstairs,’ I say, but Rebecca looks none the wiser. ‘Have you never spoken to them?’
    â€˜What would I speak to them about?’
    â€˜The weather? The fact she’s having a baby? European fishing quotas? It’s a bit strange you’ve never—’
    â€˜Yes, but you’re the guy who gets into random conversations on the Tube –
that’s
strange.’
    She’s never got over the fact I did this on our first date. We’d been to Vertigo 42 in the City for champagne and panoramic views, and while Rebecca checked her work emails on the DLR back to Greenwich I got chatting to a fella wearing a Man City shirt with Kinkladze on the back. She has since told me that this cancelled out any points I’d earnt for being a gentleman and not trying any funny business.
    â€˜Only Danielle could be late for a dinner party at her own house,’ says Jamie, peering towards her bedroom door.
    Rebecca picks up one of the napkins she has transformed into swans. ‘What’s the rush?’ the swan says.
    It was our second date when I discovered her talent for origami. We’d gone for tapas, and before the first dishes arrived she made a rose from her napkin and handed it to me with a smirk. I told her I’d contemplated bringing flowers on the date and she laughed a worried laugh and said she was glad I hadn’t.
    When Danielle finally appears she is several inches taller and has the white towel scrunched in her hand.
    â€˜High heels for dinner in your own flat?’ says Jamie.
    Danielle chucks the towel at him.
    â€˜I’d be careful around Ben and his new toy in a