Lifesaving for Beginners

those contraptions professional chess players use. She presses a button and the thing starts ticking, as loud as a bomb. ‘I have forty-two minutes so make it matter,’ she says, peeling her suit jacket off and hanging it on the back of her chair. She sits down and looks at me, drumming her fingers on the table.
    Ignoring the crowd, who will leave this place with cricks in their necks, trying to get a better view of her, she says, ‘Well?’
    I say, ‘Well what?’ as if I haven’t a clue what she’s on about.
    ‘Why did you want to see me?’
    ‘Why do I need a specific reason to meet you for lunch? I never did before.’
    ‘You never had time to meet for lunch before. You were busy before. Remember? Writing books? Doing strange things with Thomas? And Ed? Any of this ringing a bell?’
    She has a point.
    ‘Well, yes, maybe I do have a little more time on my hands these days. That could be true. But it still doesn’t mean I have to have something to discuss before I’m allowed to meet my best friend for lunch.’
    ‘Just because I’m your only friend does not mean I’m your best friend.’
    ‘You are not my only friend.’
    ‘Name two other friends.’
    I open my mouth.
    ‘And you can’t say Ed. Or Brona.’
    I shut my mouth.
    I say, ‘I got another one of those calls.’
    ‘A dropped call?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Have you reported them?’
    ‘No. It’s not against the law to ring someone and not say anything, is it?’
    ‘It’s harassment. It could be a stalker.’
    ‘Why would someone be stalking me?’
    ‘Not you, dimwit.’ Minnie leans forward and whispers, ‘Killian Kobain. Maybe somebody’s found out.’
    I look round. Nobody is paying any attention to me although some customers are still gazing at Minnie.
    I shake my head. ‘No. I’ve been so careful. And I checked with Brona. There’ve been the usual enquiries from journalists but nothing out of the ordinary.’
    Minnie says, ‘I can’t believe you’ve managed to keep it a secret for this long.’
    I pick up my napkin. Unfold it. Fold it again. Unfold it.
    ‘Spit it out, Kat.’
    I look at her. ‘You’ve never said anything to Maurice, have you?’ I know I shouldn’t ask. It’s Minnie. I can trust Minnie. But she’s been part of a couple for years now. Some couples tell each other everything. Don’t they?
    Minnie says, ‘I’m not even going to answer that. And I’m going to have to insist that you pay for lunch.’
    ‘I’m sorry . . . the calls . . . they’ve left me a bit . . . paranoid, I suppose.’
    ‘You’ve always been paranoid.’
    ‘I mean more paranoid than usual.’
    ‘Call the cop-shop.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Call the service provider. Change your number. Change your provider.’
    ‘No.’ I never, ever communicate with call centres. That’s non-negotiable. It’s the way they play mind games with you, getting you to press this button, then that button, then hash, then star, then another button until you’re so confused, you can’t even remember why you rang in the first place. Then, when a human finally speaks to you and you go ahead and tell your sad story, they say that, in fact, the person you need to tell your sad story to is in such-and-such a department and they put you on hold for half an hour and make you listen to ‘Greensleeves’ over and over – or, worse, Lyric FM – and then you speak to someone in such-and-such a department who doesn’t even know your name, never mind the gist of your sad story so you have to start all over again.
    ‘Ring the number back. After they hang up.’
    ‘I can’t. It’s a withheld number.’
    ‘Then don’t bother answering the phone.’
    ‘But it could be Ed. He sometimes rings from Sophie’s landline if he wants a lift and he’s run out of credit. Her number is withheld.’
    Minnie throws her hands up in the air. She says, ‘That’s all I’ve got.’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘You have thirty-four minutes left.’
    The waitress arrives. I’m not hungry. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been subsisting mostly on coffee and cigarettes and red wine and the weight is tumbling off me. This must be the silver lining. In fact, had I known, I would have broken up with Thomas ages ago. OK, yes, technically, he was the one who broke up with me.
    Minnie takes ages to decide. She and Maurice became foodies during the boom. A lot of people did. They know about things like celeriac and truffles. The old Minnie would have beaten any talk of celeriac and truffles