Eva went along the harbour on her way home because it added ten minutes to a journey that ended in an empty flat.
The wind had dropped. There were boats nudging the low stone wall, and a woman sitting on a bench eating chips with her handbag open beside her. Eva could smell vinegar before she reached the stall.
Ben was at the hatch.
She saw his back first. The blue shirt was one she had pulled out of a pile in a shop because she thought it would look good on him. It did. She was going to have to stop being angry at clothes.
Nora stood beside him, holding two forks. She saw Eva and raised one hand, then seemed to realise she was waving a fork.
“Hello.”
Ben turned. “Hi.”
Eva could have kept walking. Instead she stopped.
The man in the stall passed Ben a large paper tray. Two little tubs sat on top of the chips.
“One curry, one garlic,” Ben said, handing it to Nora. “The proper way.”
Eva looked at the tubs.
“The proper way?”
“It's what he said,” Nora answered.
Ben shifted the tray back into his own hands. “Eva and I used to get them.”
“Every Tuesday,” Eva said.
He glanced at her. She had made it sound grand, almost like an anniversary. They had started doing it because Tuesdays were quiet at the café and Ben finished early. He would wait for her at the harbour and eat all the crisp little bits before she got there.
Nora looked from one of them to the other.
“Do you even like the garlic one?” Eva asked.
“I haven't tried it.”
“You wanted the two sauces, though.”
“Ben ordered.”
Nora dipped a chip, tasted it and made a face.
“God. No. You can have that.”
She gave the garlic tub to Ben and went back to the hatch for vinegar.
Eva wanted to be pleased that Nora didn't like it. Instead she felt foolish. There was nobody standing here trying to be her. Ben had bought an old dinner and called it new.
“You could have gone somewhere else,” she said.
“It's a chip stall.”
“There are other chip stalls.”
“Did you want me to check a map of everywhere we've ever been?”
It hurt because it was nearly funny. It was the sort of thing she might have said if this had happened to someone else.
“No,” she said. “I wanted you to have one new idea.”
He looked down at the tray.
Nora came back with a bottle and shook vinegar over her half. Some splashed onto Ben's shoe.
“Sorry.”
“Don't drown them.”
“They're mine.”
Eva recognised the comfortable edge in Nora's voice, the freedom to be mildly annoying. Nora had already got that far. Eva had imagined them being careful and thrilled, touching each other solemnly in beautiful rooms. Apparently they were here disputing vinegar.
“See you tomorrow?” Ben asked.
“Yes.”
He nodded as though they were all managing nicely.
Eva moved past them before he could ask about anything else. She heard Nora say, “Which way?” and Ben say, “Round by the boats.”
Eva and Ben's way.
She kept walking until the stall was out of sight. Then she leaned on the harbour wall and let the air come through her coat.
At least Nora hadn't pretended the sauces were her idea. That wasn't much to like about her. Eva wasn't looking for things to like.
She took out her phone and opened Will's messages. Their last exchange was him asking her whether twenty people really needed three kilos of lemons. She had told him the lemons were for decoration as well as cooking. He had sent a photograph of one lemon wearing his glasses.
She laughed at it again, alone beside the water.
Then she typed, I'll ask you properly tomorrow.
His answer came while she still had the phone in her hand.
I open at eight. Bring the socks.
Eva put the phone away and walked home. Behind her the two of them could choose their own bench.