2 + 2 = Fish – Jenny 7

[For back story see lower numbers in archive]

Jenny looked across what used to be the empty expanse of the spare room and was now basically clutter. The last time she’d looked in the loft it had looked like this – an assortment of boxes, some full, some not, some whole, some not and some really just a cardboard shambles. 

Jenny picked up a vase, well packaged, that she and Izzy had bought for their first flat.

“Coffee?” asked Peter, edging a mug into her hands.

“Do you think I’m allowed to touch this?” said Jenny absently.

“The coffee?”

She put the vase down and took the mug. Peter was getting better at making hot drinks. He certainly knew when she wanted one now and that was half the battle won. What needed attention was ensuring whatever plant was being used was given enough time to affect the hot water, but he was getting better at that bit too. Jenny suspected this was because he rarely wanted to spend enough time away from one screen or another to let the drink stew. But as she sipped this mug she thought his patience might be improving.

“What’s she doing, do you think?” 

“Distancing,” replied Jenny. “Getting herself as far away from everything else as possible.”

“I guess it’s good to go through things. Chuck stuff out.”

“We can’t chuck stuff out,” said Jenny. “Even if we wanted to I don’t think she’s planning on saying goodbye to any of this.”

Peter hummed sympathetically and took a mouthful of soda. “You not going into work today then?” he asked.

Jenny laughed and propelled coffee out her nose.

“I have no idea if I’m meant to, or can’t or should go by bus or train or bike or whatever,” she said when she’d recovered. “Do you?”

“You could borrow my bike if you like,” said Peter.

“That might be even more dangerous that public transport.”

“True. Also I don’t know where the front wheel is. Might have left it at James’ place last time I was over there.”

Peter ducked out. Jenny took a more relaxed sip of coffee and then followed him.

“How did you leave your front..?”

In the front room Peter took up his usual place on the sofa and switched on the xbox. There was a thud from upstairs and a muffled “I’m OK, don’t worry!” Which neither Jenny nor Peter acknowledged, such cries now being commonplace.

“I honestly don’t know what to do,” sighed Jenny. “I mean, even if I did know what to do there’s no telling that it would actually end up being what I intended to do. I say stuff and it doesn’t come out right. I say stuff right and it doesn’t seem to mean the same as I thought it did. I make suggestions and they just seem to be the rambling thoughts of an idiot.”

“A very nice idiot,” said Peter. “Don’t do yourself down.”

“Work has said they’re restarting – they’ve got people on site – but the offices might not be ready yet.”

“Why don’t you ask for an on site office?” mused Peter, but this wasn’t heard by Jenny.

“And even if they are ready I don’t think I’m allowed to go because her majesty up there might have something that might be it. Or might not. And there’s no way of knowing and even if she did or didn’t that doesn’t mean to say I have or won’t or…” she sighed, “And it’s not like we see each other anyway.”

Jenny stopped, fearful that she was confessing something to Peter that she shouldn’t and then fearful she’d confessed something to herself.

“Sorry. Got a bit Phillip Schofield there.”

Peter wasn’t really listening. He was waving an xbox controller at her.

“You ever driven really fast?” he asked.

It took Jenny five minutes to get the hang of the controller and seven minutes to be captured by the mix of dopamine and adrenalin. By minute ten Helen was in the room sharing the screams and roars of approach as Peter and Jenny went head to head around some of the more challenging racing circuits around the world in a variety of cars and different weather conditions. Interestingly enough, Jenny was always better when it rained. 

After fifteen minutes they had to stop because Izzy was screaming from the top of the stairs. After the downstairs crew assured her all was well and there wasn’t some kind of huge family battle going on they started up again.

Each to their own, in competition and in a pile of memories.