How to Be Bad Read Online Free Page B

you.”
    This crushed me so comprehensively that for a while I could think of nothing to say.
    It was Caro who broke the silence. “To answer the question you asked ten centuries ago, I tried working. Two and a half years on a magazine in Fleet Street.”
    â€œYou were a journalist?”
    â€œYeah. I was a staff writer on a women’s glossy. I used to make up all those exclusive stories about how to keep your man from straying.”
    â€œAnd what’s the answer?”
    â€œThe real answer or the one I wrote for the readers?”
    â€œThe real answer.”
    â€œYou mutate into a completely different person every two years. Only way to keep your man. Relationships only last two years. After that, the sex has lost its edge, and all the flowers in the world can’t make up for the arguments, the resentments, and the secret loathing.”
    â€œYou don’t really believe that,” I said. “Anyway, we were only together for six months.”
    â€œThat’s right.” She smiled brightly, and my heart fluttered. “That’s why I never got tired of you.”
    â€œOh. So how come you walked out on me?”
    â€œI was seventeen. My lovely teacher made a pass at me. I was a little kid, I was flattered. What was I supposed to do?”
    â€œReport him to the authorities?”
    â€œIf I’d thought you’d have been able to handle me seeing someone else, I would never have ended it. Well, not for about another eighteen months, anyway.”
    The first course arrived. It looked like a giant maggot sitting on a lettuce leaf. Caro ate hers without hesitation, then started on mine. She was welcome to it.
    â€œSo in theory,” I said, “you and I have got another year and a half?”
    â€œStop it.”
    â€œThen why did you ask me to call you?”
    â€œI thought it’d be nice just to meet as friends and catch up.”
    â€œYou don’t fancy me anymore?”
    I saw her hesitate. “It isn’t that. You’re very nice. That’s part of the problem. You’re a little too nice.”
    â€œI’m not that nice.”
    â€œYou are, Mark. I bet you even wash the dishes.”
    â€œI prefer to wipe.”
    The main course was some kind of fish. I thought I’d ordered a salad, which just went to show how bad my French was.
    â€œHow’s your love life?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
    â€œI haven’t been out with anyone for eight months.”
    â€œHow many relationships have you had since I knew you?”
    â€œLost count,” she said. “You?”
    â€œFour,” I said. “An actress, a kindergarten teacher, a flight attendant, and a girl I met at college.”
    â€œWhich one lasted the longest?”
    â€œFour and a half years. The girl I met at college. She was my second-favorite girlfriend. You’re the first. The kindergarten teacher comes third. The flight attendant and the actress share equal fourth place.”
    Caro laughed. “Is there something wrong with you?”
    â€œNo.” I felt myself blushing. “What do you mean?”
    â€œWell, you keep making lists.”
    â€œDo I?”
    â€œYeah. First you did it about the restaurant. Now you’re doing it about your girlfriends.”
    â€œAh.”
    She wasn’t just being hostile. The subject interested her. “Listmaking. Making endless lists about stupid fucking things. It’s an epidemic, and it’s wiping out the modern Western male.”
    â€œI haven’t really given it much thought.”
    â€œI can tell,” she said. “Does your dad make lists?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNor does mine. But he’s a complete nutter, so he doesn’t really count. My mum’s dad got shot in the war—can’t remember if I ever told you that. A Japanese bullet went right through him, took out his spleen. Do you think he made lists? His ten best comrades to die in