Page 11 of Common People

‘This is your problem, pal.’

‘What?’

‘You’re an overthinker. What’s wrong with just having a wee bit of fun with this Bethan lassie, eh? Why does it always have to be a proper relationship with all the bells and whistles?’

‘Coming from the man who’s had more one-night stands than I’ve had hot dinners.’

‘A bit of an exaggeration. Aye, I’ve had a few girls over, but just like youse, I’m looking for The One.’

‘You’re looking for a girlfriend?’

‘Aye. I’ve just not met the right one yet. It’s why I keep trying. And trying. And trying.’

Max laughed. ‘So, when you meet The One, you’ll stop all the sleeping around, and have a proper relationship with all the bells and whistles?’

‘Aye, I will, and in the meantime,’ said Robbie, standing up. ‘You should have a wee bit of fun yourself. You deserve it, and more importantly, so does your penis!’

Robbie walked into the kitchen to tidy up. His shift at work started in an hour, and he needed to have a shower and get changed. Was he right? Should Max just have a bit of fun with Bethan? Was that even possible? Max had always been a relationship sort of bloke. He’d only had two one-night stands in his life, and they were both in the first term at university – a hotbed for casual sex – but before that and since, he had always been more comfortable in a relationship. The idea of just sleeping with someone for sex, hadn’t ever appealed to him. Even in his darkest days after the accident, it wasn’t sex with random strangers he craved. He actually enjoyed the closeness of sleeping with someone he genuinely loved and cared for. Could he just have some fun with Bethan with no strings attached? Running friends with benefits? The answer to Max seemed pretty obvious – probably not.

‘I have to get ready for work, but if youse need a hand with your parents’ house, just let me know,’ said Robbie, walking through the living area towards his bedroom.

‘Thanks, mate, and seriously, think about the sandwich shop.’

‘Rab’s Sandwich Shop!’

‘Why not Robbie’s Sandwich Shop!’

‘Down here I go by Robbie, but in Scotland, everyone calls me Rab. I just think Rab’s Sandwich Shop sounds better. It’s also a wee wink to Scotland.’

‘So, you’ll think about it?’

‘Only if youse think about having some fun with this lassie at run club.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ replied Max, and with that, it seemed like they had some sort of loose deal in place. The problem was, it had been so long since Max had thought about just having some fun, he wasn’t even sure where to begin. Fun seemed like an alien concept, when for the past eighteen months, he felt like he had barely been clinging onto life by his fingertips. Fun was something that other people did. He took the last bite of his sandwich, enjoying the flavours and the crunch of the toasted sourdough, before he got up and started tidying the kitchen, while playing with the word on his tongue for a few minutes.Fun. If only life were that simple.

London loves

Tuesday night came around with startling speed, and it was time for Common People once again. After a long day at Broadcasting House, and a quick turnaround at the flat with barely enough time for a protein bar to eat on the way, Max was once again sitting in the group circle before the run. It was a slightly overcast evening, colder than the week before which Max thought was probably a good thing. Perhaps it would stop him from being sick in front of everyone again.

Max was sitting opposite Bethan, who was in a pair of black running shorts and a tight black top, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking at her. He caught her eye, smiled at her and she smiled back. He did wonder whether it was possible they could just have some fun together. The thought like a fleeting gust of wind blew through him, and when it was gone, the only thing left behind was the cold, hard truth. He just wasn't a “bit of fun” sort of bloke, and he didn’t know Bethan well, but she didn’t seem like the sort of girl who was looking for a casual friends-with-benefits relationship either. He knew he liked her, and the more time he spent with her, that feeling was only going to get stronger and stronger. As he did his best not to keep looking at her, the conversation began with Eve discussing her latest book.

‘It’s out next week, so I’m busy with pre-publication day events and marketing,’ said Eve, who had mentioned to Max that she was an author, but hadn’t elaborated on it.

‘What sort of book, is it?’ asked Max.

‘It’s a romantic comedy. Set in Ireland.’

‘Eve’s our famous author,’ said Hope.

‘Famous?’ asked Max.

‘She’s exaggerating. I’m hardly famous. Amongst a small group of loyal fans, maybe, but to the rest of the world, I’m no-one.’

‘Hardly no-one,’ said Anita. ‘I went to one of her recent book signings in Covent Garden, and there was a queue around the corner! I had to wait for forty-five minutes. In the rain!’

‘I had no idea I was in the company of a celebrity,’ said Max, and Eve blushed. Her pale skin softened with a pinkish hue. ‘I’ll have to buy one of your books so you can sign it for me.’

‘Stop it. I write romantic comedies about women like me who can’t find love. It just so happens that a lot of women face the same challenges, so my books strike a chord. That’s it. I’m not exactly Marian Keyes or Sally Rooney.’