Flames

Flames

I T’S MEANT TO

be a ceremonial burning of Bella’s Sainsbury’s uniform fleece, but it quickly turns into an almost-fire on Ham and Cheese’s balcony.

He dashes in from the kitchen with a mini fire extinguisher. It looks travel-sized, for any tiny fires one might encounter on the bus.

The metal bin we put the fleece in and then poured vodka on is still smoking even when the fire is out. The smell of burning plastic is strong. ‘Jesus.’ Bella flaps her hand in front of her face. ‘What the hell was that thing made of?’

Ham and Cheese toes the bin as close to the edge of his balcony as he can. ‘Try not to breathe it in,’ he says. I think he might be a secret posh person. His flat is palatial, for one thing. High ceilings, beams, those black industrial windows, but a sparkling new open-plan kitchen that looks like it will all be operated by a touchpad subtly secreted somewhere. There are hockey sticks and framed black-and-white photographs on the walls. Despite his long hair and whimsical nature, I would bet money that this boy went to Eton.

‘Sorry,’ Bella says to Ham and Cheese, and he smiles at her. I believe he still holds a candle for my girl.

‘That’ll be two tickets for Love Improvised, Actually

, then, to make it up to me.’

Bella rolls her eyes. ‘If there’s audience participation, I will genuinely run.’

‘I’ll tell them not to pick on you. How about that?’ She eyes him as though that is not nearly enough of a promise to get her to watch a three-hour improvised retelling of Love, Actually

. It was bad enough when they had the lines written down ahead of time.

The smoke slows eventually, and I peer into the bin. The charred black fleece is still in the shape of a fleece, but it’s no longer burgundy and the word ‘Sainsbury’s’ is gone.

‘Poor fleece,’ I say.

‘They’re going to charge me for not returning it,’ Bella says, accepting a glass of champagne from Ham and Cheese. He pours his into a Coronation Street

mug. ‘I only have two champagne glasses,’ he says, looking sheepish. Oh, what would his governess say?

‘We have a lovely selection at the charity shop, if you don’t have any qualms about second-hand glassware,’ I tell him.

‘I’ll have to check it out.’

‘You certainly will,’ I agree.

The smell of burning fleece is gently lifted with a breeze. From Ham and Cheese’s balcony, we can see out across Birmingham. I can even spy the spotty Bullring building in the distance.

‘To new beginnings!’ Ham and Cheese says, holding out his mug, which has Roy and Hayley on it, in their matching cagoules.

‘To the incredibly low-paid job of costume assistant’s costume assistant!’ Bella cheerses her glass and a bit of champagne slops over the edge on to the balcony.

I take a sup. It is very horrible, as all champagne is, but its extra horribleness makes me think it must be expensive.

‘Will you miss it?’ Ham and Cheese asks Bella.

She thinks about this. ‘I will miss the free food.’

‘Free? Was your discount that good?’ Ham and Cheese asks.

‘No,’ she says, as though Ham and Cheese is being particularly naive.

‘Oh,’ Ham and Cheese says as it dawns on him.

I must look aghast because Bella says, ‘Wait. Eddie. Did you think I’d been buying

all the food we’ve been eating in Pigeon Park?’

‘I presumed there was some staff discount at play. But yes.’

‘It’s the five-fingered discount,’ she says, waggling her fingers at me like she’s the Artful Dodger.

‘Good God. I’ve been eating stolen food.’

‘Yes, sorry, I’ll, um …’

‘I’m a criminal,’ I say.

‘A fugitive,’ Ham and Cheese agrees.

‘We are living outside of the law!’ I exclaim, rather energized by the prospect of having committed and got away with a crime.

‘Shh, they’ll hear you,’ Ham and Cheese whispers. ‘We’re going to have to get you a disguise.’

‘It’s not really stealing

,’ Bella says. ‘They were paying me a pittance for a job at which I was spat at by strangers. So really, they

owe me

.’

I take another sup of my champagne. This is life in the underworld then, drinking champagne on fancy balconies, my tummy full up with stolen food.

‘I’m sorry for roping you into the murky world of crime,’ Bella says.

‘It’s quite exciting.’

‘But I do promise,’ Bella says, turning to Ham and Cheese, ‘that I won’t steal anything from Terrence or the costume department.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Ham and Cheese says. ‘How do you think I really got my faux fur coat?’

‘Seriously?’ Bella says, laughing.

‘No, I’m kidding. Please don’t steal from Terrence, he’ll never forgive me.’

‘Promise.’ She holds out her pinky finger and Ham and Cheese offers his own to seal the pact.

We book to see Love Improvised, Actually

for the Friday matinee and the Saturday night, because my subterranean Cupid senses are telling me that there might be something here, actually, after all.