Two Fish

forty || elver

“Mum!” Elver cried. “What did you do to it?” He pushed his plate away and flashed his mother a look of horror. She was staring down at her own food, her face a mix of confusion and a similar dismay.

“I don’t understand. I followed the recipe exactly.” She frowned and Cathy snorted.

“Trust you, Mum. The one time we have an important guest, you try something new and get it wrong,” she said, shooting Alaska an apologetic smile. She blushed.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind at all,” she said. “Happy accidents, eh?”

Elver, noticing his mother’s hurt expression, just shook his head. “Mum, it doesn’t matter. We’ll just get a takeaway. Fish and chips, anyone?” he asked, glancing at his father’s gleeful face.

“Sounds good to me,” he said: Mr James was a simple man at heart. Elver grabbed the opportunity to spend some time with Alaska.

“Alaska and I will go. Are we getting a chippy or a Chinese?” he asked, pulling out Alaska’s chair for her and taking her hand.

“Better make it fish and chips. Not too much vinegar for me, hun,” his mother said with a grateful beam. “Have fun and hurry back. I’m starving.”

Elver rolled his eyes and led Alaska to the car. She looked apprehensive.

“Can’t we walk?” she asked, gazing wistfully at the shadowy path leading down the road. Elver shrugged.

“It’ll be quicker to drive. But, if you want.”

Alaska nodded vigorously. Elver sighed.

“Ok.” The sun was just starting to set so by the time they got back it would be dark. They started walking.

“You don’t talk about your dad much. Why not? You seem to get along,” she said. Elver shrugged.

“He’s not around much. We’re not very close, either. He likes football and car magazines and I like being outside,” Elver said with a sad smile. “It’s a shame really. He’s a good guy.” Alaska nodded. For some reason Elver felt like she actually understood.

“It’s the same for me, really. I don’t see him much.” She didn’t say much else for there wasn’t a lot to say.

The walk was shorter than Elver expected and soon they were stuck in the unnaturally lit chip shop, enveloped by the overwhelming stench of frying fat. Elver strode up to the counter.

“Er, four portions of fish and chips, all with vinegar apart from one with just, er, a bit of vinegar.” He turned to Alaska.

“What would you like?”

She scanned the board on the wall.

“Er, could I have the, um, chicken kebab?” she asked, not a fan of the impatient expression sprawled across the man’s face.  He sighed.

“We’re all out, sorry. Anything else?” he said in a lazy drawl. Alaska flushed.

“Well, er, I’ll just have the same then. Please.” She was distracted, her eyes flitting from the board to the man and back again. Elver was aware of the heat and as the man started on the order, he took her outside.

“Are you ok? It was boiling in there. Sorry about that man. He was horrible,” Elver said, leading her round to the back of a tree. She nodded, but had turned quite white.

“I’ll be fine, um, how long will he be?”

“He usually takes his time,” Elver said.

“Oh. Ok. Can we go for a walk?”

“Yeah. Actually, I know a little place.”

They ventured through the tangle of branches and reached a little pool of water.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Alaska said as they sat down on the edge. Elver smiled.

“Nobody ever has.”

They watched the last bit of sunlight drain down over the horizon. Elver looped his arm around her neck and pulled her close. Their lips met and the thin slit of light left shone down on them. They walked back up in silence. After a few minutes Alaska suddenly laughed.

“What is it?” Elver asked.

“Remember how we met? I hated you. I thought you were some annoying boy racer messing about with your mates. Look at us now.” She stopped and kissed him again. He smiled.

“I always liked you. From the very first day,” Elver said, almost shyly. Alaska sighed.

“I think I probably felt the same.” They reached the shop and the man glared at them.

“Finally, you’re here. Your order’s going cold.” He scowled and Elver paid. The two left the shop and burst out laughing.

“Did you see his face? He was so annoyed,” Alaska giggled. They were laden down with bags, the grease already showing against the white plastic.

“You don’t mind fish, do you? Sorry about the chicken,” Elver said.

“No, it’s fine, I just hate ordering on the spot when I’ve got no clue what I’m having,” Alaska replied. “I was going to ask you the same thing, actually. You hate fish.”

“I hate live fish. This is dead. I feel like this is revenge, to eat it.”

Alaska laughed and shifted the bag to her other hand so she could hold Elver’s warm fingers. The walk back was slower, more leisurely.

 When they reached the house, Cathy rushed to her brother.

“There you are! You’ve been ages. What have you been up to?” she added with a wink.

“Nothing. We didn’t drive and the chip man took ages."

His father cheered when he saw them. “Ah, finally, some real food.”