‘I don’t think that’s true, and you still shouldn’t leave your shit for other people to clear up.’
Josh was usually so polite and amenable; Audrey could see this was the culmination of a weekend of biting his tongue. Audrey and Clara ended up dismantling Jay’s tent as the two men argued.
On the car ride home, they stopped at a petrol station and Audrey nipped into the garage to pay. Josh followed her in, venting as he paced back and forth in the deli aisle.
‘He is just the worst kind of liberal bullshitter. He says he’s voting for the Greens, then in the same sentence complains about the cost of the airfare to get to Burning Man!’
Audrey tried to be sympathetic. She knew Jay had plenty of opinions that couldn’t be examined too closely, but he didn’t take himself too seriously, and his heart was usually in the right place.
‘Look, that’s just Jay. Sure, he’s not always right, but he’s good fun and... and he’s married to my best friend.’
Josh sighed, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. ‘I’m sorry, I know he’s your friend. It’s just that the world is full of people like him, people who think they have all the answers after scrolling through one article on their phone.’
‘I know.’ Audrey leaned in to kiss him. ‘Come on, it’s only two hours back to London, and then it will be just you and me again.’
Their relationship felt so easy when it was just the two of them and Audrey was relishing the newfound joy of simply having someone to share her life with. She loved weekends spent at his place. They would cook together. Josh always followed a recipe, while she improvised with whatever ingredients she could find in the cupboard. She hung framed prints of her most colourful photos to brighten up his empty white walls. She loved evenings spent lying on the sofa watching romcoms, while Josh rubbed her feet and pretended to read The Economist, rather than watch the film. Together, they wallowed in their glorious little universe of two. But when they were out in the world together, around other people, Audrey sometimes wondered if they weren’t pieces from two different puzzles. Perhaps they didn’t quite fit.
And it was no easier for Audrey with Josh’s friends. One Saturday morning a few weeks after the disastrous music festival, Josh invited her to join him on one of his reforesting expeditions. Audrey had no idea what she should wear to plant trees. It was a damp day, and she knew she might get cold, so she wore the warmest things she owned – salopettes and a ski jacket.
‘Are we reforesting the Alps?’ Josh asked her with a quizzical smile.
‘I didn’t want to be cold. Do I look ridiculous? Shall I change?’
‘No, you look perfect,’ he said, hugging her into him. ‘Just looking at you makes me want fondue.’
They met up with the other volunteers at a community park in Finchley. The plan was to plant out a whole bank of saplings. Everyone seemed friendly enough, but there wasn’t much opportunity for chit-chat. It was hard work, really hard work, and Audrey only managed to dig one hole in the time it took everyone else to dig five. Her hands hurt, her toes were cold, and she concluded pretty quickly that this wasn’t her idea of fun.
When she finally had a hole big enough to plant a small tree, Josh took a photo of her standing next to it and wrote her name on the support stake. As soon as Josh was out of earshot, a woman called Sharla said under her breath, ‘Got the Instagram shot then.’
Sharla clearly had no idea, because Audrey wasn’t even on Instagram, and if she had been, there was no way she would be posting pictures of herself looking like a drowned rat, planting trees in a muddy field. After attempting a little more digging, Audrey offered to nip to a nearby coffee shop to buy everyone a coffee. She soon sensed this was not the thing to do as everyone politely declined and pulled out their eco-friendly thermoses.
The lowest point of the day came when Audrey discovered the toilet facilities consisted of a Portaloo and some hand sanitiser. White salopettes and a muddy Portaloo were not a good combination. Maybe she would leave the tree planting to Josh. You didn’t need to enjoy the same hobbies as your boyfriend, did you?
Audrey didn’t gel with Josh’s Cambridge friends either. They all had impressive jobs – lawyers or doctors or CEOs for some tech start-up. They talked about politics and macro-economics and, in truth, Audrey found their erudite conversations intimidating. There was always a pause when she said that she didn’t have a degree, or when she told them she was currently working in a gallery or a pub or as a dog walker. The pause was barely discernible, quickly plastered over with an over-enthusiastic smile, but Audrey was keenly aware that it was there.
At one dinner party, when the topic of ‘what she did’ came up, Josh’s friend Harriet asked, ‘Why did you drop out of uni, then? I’d have thought with a famous playwright for a father you’d be top of the class.’
‘I’m not sure it works like that,’ Audrey said with a tight smile.
‘Audrey’s one of the smartest people I know,’ said Josh, which garnered a raised eyebrow from Harriet. Audrey loved him for defending her but was annoyed he felt he had to. Did it matter if she wasn’t as academic as his friends? And if it didn’t matter, then why did she feel so intimidated?
‘Audrey knows everything there is to know about space,’ Josh said.
‘Aw, Tree Boy and Space Girl, sweet,’ Harriet said, shooting Audrey a grimace masquerading as a smile.
‘What’s the most interesting thing you know about space?’ asked Greg, another of their college friends.
‘I think some of the most interesting stuff is what we don’t know,’ said Audrey. ‘Like whether our universe is the only one.’ Everyone paused eating to listen to her. She went on, nervously, ‘If our universe goes on forever, or if there are multiple different universes, then there could be an infinite number of planetary possibilities. There will be worlds just like ours, where every conceivable reality plays out an infinite number of times. Somewhere out there, identical versions of us, might be at an almost identical dinner, except we’re all speaking Danish.’
‘Oh, I love that idea,’ said Dee.
‘Those kinds of theories are closer to religion than science, it’s all completely speculative,’ said Greg, who worked in biotechnology.
‘Sounds like Everett’s many-worlds theory, which we covered in first year Philosophy,’ said Harriet, stifling a yawn.
‘I think it’s a fascinating theory,’ said Josh, loyally. ‘If there are parallel universes, with infinite possibilities, I’m glad we’ll never know about them. I’m very happy in this one.’ He reached out a hand to stroke Audrey’s arm.
‘What about the universe where you’ve got a slightly bigger cock?’ Ben laughed, throwing a potato across the table at Josh, which made everyone, bar Audrey, laugh.