Troika

Trust Julie to start getting neurotic on them, thought Adam while adjusting his tie in front of the mirror in the men’s bathroom. He frowned slightly at his reflected image; the tie still seemed slightly askew. Ever since he had known the girls, he always knew that Julie was the one who dictated how their relationship evolved. Blue-eyed Julie, with her auburn hair and serious air, and with that mischievous smile which manages to catch him by surprise till this very day. She had spilt her coffee on his final thesis outside the university canteen five years ago and had fluttered about him handing out tissues and being a general nuisance. She had stoutly claimed that it was all his fault; his hair was too long, surely he couldn’t see where he was walking. Ashley had stood beside her, wide-eyed, surveying him sedately without offering to move an inch, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. From then on, he couldn’t quite let them go. They became inseparable.

He hurriedly made his way down the long winding staircase that led to the company’s modern, minimalist entrance. The Paulin Opera House – designed by chief-architect, Adam Ward. Smirking to himself, he glanced at the glass entrance and caught sight of Ashley smoking languidly outside, waiting for him. He beamed. Her red dress billowed about her and she was pushing it between her legs, one-handed, trying to control it.

“Je t’aime à la folie,” he whispered in her hair, hugging her from behind.

She turned in his arms and planted a cool kiss on his lips. “Bugger off, dimwit. Ju’s mad about something. What have you done now, you naughty children?” she asked, linking her arm into his and lifting her big sunglasses over her head.

“We fucked last Friday and now she wants to talk. I hate it when she wants to talk. She starts dramatising everything.” They crossed the street and he sulkily kicked an empty water-bottle across the pavement. “You never talk after we have sex.”

Ashley eyed him affectionately. What an unforgiveable fart, she thought.

“You’re an unforgivable fart, Ad. Julie is the best. Allow her some talk-time, if she can’t talk with us then, well, with whom can she talk?” She threw down her cigarette and trod on it with a perfect, black Chanel heel. She giggled as she kissed him again. “Our lives happen to be one big mess you know.”

They entered the dim cafeteria and made their way to the very back. Julie was already sitting at their usual table, her sleek legs crossed over, entirely absorbed in a book, as ever. What an angel, thought Ashley admiringly as she bent down and kissed her on the top of her head.

She looked up at them dimly, and reached for the pencil she had tucked behind her ear. “I can’t stay for very long, guys. Richard will be picking me up. We have to visit his grandma this afternoon, and Adam stop leering like a first-class prick. You should have become used to his name by now don’t you think?”

“He’s just jealous, pumpkin. We all are. This Richard is taking up so much of your time; we only get to see you twice a week.” Ashley purred while settling in a chair and running a manicured finger over the menu. “Even daddy complained. He doesn’t like the sound of this Richard. He thinks he might plan to marry you. You’ve been together for quite some time now.”

“Your father doesn’t even know Richard, Ash! Fuck! All I want is an easygoing relationship with a normal, kind man who actually loves me! Is it too much to ask for?” She glared at them, incredulous.

“You said he shaves his legs, Ju. And he gives roses. It doesn’t get much worse than that. I’m just saying,” Ashley said quickly trying to make amends. “I’m just saying that this Richard sounds a tiny bit soft, you know? Not exactly your type.”

“I’m getting our mochaccinos. You’re ruining my day,” said Adam gelidly, and he huffed his way to the bar to abuse the staff.

Julie looked after him irritably. He was in the habit of doing that, walking away while she was saying something they all needed to hear. Ashley gazed at her friend in silence as she unwound her scarf, and noticed with a small pang the exhaustion that lined her face. “Honey what is the matter? Are you really that into Richard? He doesn’t need to know everything, right? This is entirely our thing. We vowed never, ever, to say anything,” she finished lamely, realising that this was something quite different from past boyfriend issues. She pouted apprehensively and wished Julie would stop over-analysing for once and just let things be.

“Do you remember that day in summer? When we were all very drunk after Adam got his first contract?” Julie asked quietly, making unconscious attempts at clearing the table.

Dangerous, dangerous waters, thought Ashley, though nodding and smiling faintly in spite of herself. How could they ever forget that fateful summer day? They had gone to the beach right after Benson phoned Adam with the news, and swam naked in full daylight, dining on champagne and watermelons. There they had stayed, until the following morning, the three of them, alone on that sandy beach. She observed Adam as he made his way towards them, flicking his hair away from his eyes as best as he could without scalding himself. For her, little had changed since then. But Julie was different.

“I expect,” Julie said, gingerly leaning back in her chair, “I expect you wonder what all this is about.”

“Well,” Adam said caustically, “I think I’ve got a bit of an idea.”

“I’m not sure myself, really. I mean, I knew I needed to talk. I knew I needed to talk to someone who knows the situation, that is. But I don’t really know what I’m after. I love both of you, and I will never stop, I can never stop. But we cannot keep at this. It’s too much of a muddle and it is way too unfair on Richard.”

“We’ve had this conversation.”

“We didn’t finish it.”

Julie looked at Ashley chewing a strand of her hair. “I happen to like roses.”

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