In this chapter, Sophie talks about Daniel's flat (apartment). She hasn't been there but she takes a guess on what it's like based on Daniel's personality. Oh, and Eastenders is a British sopa opera shown most week nights in the UK. Enjoy, Sarah xx
"Jesus!"
"Actually, it's his brother."
"Ouch!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, did I insult you with my sarcasm?"
"I stubbed my toe on the coffee table, you idiot!"
"That's disappointing."
"You mean 'painful', right?"
"That too, I suppose, although I'm not clumsy enough to walk into my furniture."
"That's probably because your flat is as empty as your heart."
"It's called minimalism, Sophie."
"It's called being emotionless, Daniel."
"Why does every phone conversation we have turn into an argument?"
"As opposed to our face to face conversations?"
"Your sarcasm knows no end."
"Was there a purpose to your call? As I remember, you apologised for your misunderstanding, I forgave you and then we said good bye. Now, you're back to calling me. I feel honoured."
"I need your advice. I don't have many female friends-"
"Or any friends at all."
"I have friends."
"Name one."
"Elias."
"Ok, so you have one friend. Go bug them about your life."
"But I need a female perspective."
"I'm sure to regret this, but fine. Make it quick though. Eastenders is about to start."
"You watch the soaps?"
"Only when I need to feel better about my life."
"What's so bad about your life that you need to watch Eastenders?"
"I'm a twenty eight year old singleton living in London and I'm surrounded by living, breathing skeletons on a daily basis."
"I'm thirty one and my girlfriend is having sex with my brother behind my back."
"Yeah, you're right, your life is far more entertaining than the soaps. Please, continue. You needed my advice?"
"Yes. How should I break up with my girlfriend?"
"..."
"Sophie? Are you still there?"
"You haven't broken up with her already?!"
"Well, I didn't know quite how to phrase it."
"You could always try this- You cheated on me? I mean, I know you're a cold hearted bitch on a good day, but this? You fucked my brother. Whose name is Jesus. - That's just a suggestion though."
"Very eloquently put, Sophie."
"I thought so too, when you rang and shouted that at me at one thirty am on New Year's Day."
"In my defence, I was inebriated."
"You were drunk."
"I prefer the word 'inebriated'. It doesn't sound as bad."
"Still means you were hammered."
"Back to this much needed advice. How should I go about breaking up with her?"
"Tell her to go fuck herself. Or better yet, your brother, seeing as she's been there, done that, and got the STI to prove it."
"STI?"
"Or STD. Either one."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"I get the feeling that you don't like my advice."
"What made you think that?"
"Don't be sarcastic, Daniel. It's unbecoming."
"Hilarious."
"I know I am. Ok, let's get serious."
"Can you do serious?"
"I can try. Um, ok, well- oh, I've got it! You tell me how you were going to do it and I'll tell you if that's a good idea or not."
"That's not how giving advice works."
"In my country, it is."
"Dare I ask what country that is?"
"Sophieville. Haven't you heard of it? It's wonderful. You should visit."
"I'd rather not, thank you, but when in Rome, do as the Romans do."
"You have zero sense of Geography if you think Rome is in Sophieville."
"It's an expres- Never mind. I was going to take Arabella out to dinner and-"
"This doesn't sound like a break up. In fact, it sounds more like a date."
"- And midway through dinner, I was going to drop the bombshell on her that I know her and my brother are carrying on behind my back. Then I was going to walk out before she started her pathetic attempt to explain herself."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"It's not the worst plan in the world."
"It's not?"
"Nope."
"So, I should do it?"
"I think you should break up with her ASAP, so, yeah. Do it that way."
"What if it doesn't work?"
"In what way could it not work?"
"Is the message clear enough? Is it obvious that I'm breaking up with her? Or should I spell it out to her?"
"'You slept with my brother.' Walk away. I think that's pretty clear. Unless she's dense. Is she dense?"
"No, she is not!"
"Don't defend her!"
"I'm not!"
"Whatever you say, Posh Spice."
"I'm going to do it. I'm going to break up with her."
"Good for you! Is it pathetic that I'm excited to see how this plays out? Damn, this was better than Eastenders. You have to call me tomorrow and tell me how it went."
"Shall do."
"Oh, and if she tries to give you an excuse, shout 'We are OVER,' and then storm out."
"Isn't that slightly over dramatic?"
"No, it's the appropriate amount of drama."
"If you say so."
"I do say so. Now, go break up with Arabella. By the way, Arabella? Really?"
"Good night, Sophie."