Anna inched toward the fruit bowl. Nine oranges were arranged neatly in a pile.
‘I too have a secret,’ she said.
‘Oh?’ I braced myself against the fridge, ready to receive her secret.
‘Yes, Ivan, I…’ She quickly plucked a golden orange from the heap, pocketed it. ‘I fantasise about your stubble.’
‘My stubble?’
‘Yes, your stubble! I just can’t stop thinking about it. How pricky it is.’
‘I saw that. You just pocketed that orange.’
‘No I didn’t.’
‘Yes you did. Listen, we have a problem.’
‘I’m fucking your uncle,’ she suddenly blurted out.
‘What?’ I tried snatching at the orange.
‘I’m fucking your uncle.’
‘Stop trying to distract me.’
‘Leave your wife! Come rub my thighs.’
I recoiled. ‘We’re just friends, Anna! I feel so unstimulated around your husband – it’s like I’m going to jump off a cliff. Just … stop stealing my food, okay?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, because he’s got three issues, doesn’t he? He makes one feel too relaxed, he requires too much intimacy, and he’s a filthy pervert!’
I shielded myself from her assault. ‘Anna stop deflecting!’
‘I know it wasn’t an accident!’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘What are you talking about? The shower.’
We suddenly stopped – I was pointing skyward. ‘Shush, can you hear that?’ There was a beeping across the room.
I approached the cabinet. There was Anna’s phone, glowing.
I picked it up.
‘I noticed when we were watching The Invisible Man that your phone kept going off…’
‘Gimme that!’ she snatched at the phone.
I unlocked the screen. There was a message chain between her and my uncle.
‘You are fucking my uncle!’
Anna keeled over, struck. She started moaning, clutching her stomach.
‘Are you alright?’
‘I just love Russians,’ she groaned. ‘Yes, the thing is I know I can’t crack onto you because we’re friends. So I’ve been sleeping with your uncle.’
I glimpsed Anna slip another orange into her pocket.