‘And what about Clemency?’
‘She’ll come too.’
‘Do you think your dad and Birdie will move out, too? Once you and Clemency are gone?’
He laughed harshly. ‘Er. No. No way. He’s here now. Feet under the table. Got everything going his way.’
A small silence drew out between us. Then Phin said, ‘Remember that night? When we went up on the roof? When we took the acid?’
I nodded effusively. How could I forget?
‘You know there’s another one. Still up there?’
‘Another …?’
‘Tab. Another tab of acid. The guy at Kensington Market gave me two. We only had one.’
I let this fact percolate within me for a moment.
‘Are you saying …?’
‘I guess. I mean, they all think I’m safely locked up. The girls are asleep. No one will come up now. You could go down and tell everyone you’re going to bed, then bring up a glass of water. I’ll wait here.’
Of course I did precisely as I was told.
We grabbed a blanket and put on jumpers. I went first through the hatch, Phin passed me the water and then followed up behind me. It was July but the air was damp and cool. Phin located the little bag where he’d left it in a plant pot. I didn’t really want to take it. I hoped that it had somehow lost its toxicity during the many months it had sat out there, subject to the elements. I hoped that a sudden gust of wind would blow it away. Or that Phin would put it back and say, ‘We don’t need that. We have each other.’
We brushed some dead leaves from the plastic chairs and sat side by side.
Phin tipped the tab into the palm of his hand.
The sky was remarkable. Royal blue, burnt amber, lipstick pink. It doubled itself in the face of the river. In the distance, Battersea Bridge sparkled.
I saw Phin watch the sky too. It felt different from the last time we’d been up here. Phin felt different. More pensive, less rebellious.
‘What do you think you’ll end up doing?’ he asked me. ‘When you’re grown-up?’
‘Something to do with computers,’ I said. ‘Or film-making.’
‘Or both, maybe?’ he suggested.
‘Yes,’ I agreed happily. ‘Making films with computers.’
‘Cool,’ he said.
‘And what about you?’
‘I want to live in Africa,’ he said. ‘Be a safari guide.’
I laughed. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘We did a safari when we were travelling. I was six. We saw hippos having sex. That’s what I mainly remember. But I also just really remember the guide. This really cool English guy. He was called Jason.’
I noticed a hint of longing in his voice at this point. It made me feel closer to him in a way I couldn’t fully process.
‘I remember saying to my parents that that’s what I wanted to do when I grew up. My dad said I’d never make my fortune driving tourists round in a Land Rover. As if money was the only thing that matters …’
He sighed and glanced down into the palm of his hand. ‘So,’ he said, ‘shall we?’