‘How long have you and Dimitri been together?’
‘Eight months.’
‘Not that long, then.’
‘You and Jasper only met this summer.’
I shrugged. ‘Everyone’s different. You can’t force your relationships to have a certain pace. It’s too soon for some, not soon enough for others.’
‘No, it’s not that. It’s more that Dimitri and I … well, we’re both learning. Your Jasper is experienced and knows the drill. Dimitri and I, we just kind of bob along, picking it up as we go.’
‘That sounds good. And I’m sure there isn’t a drill. There are as many ways to have this kind of relationship as there are people having it. Whatever makes the two of you happy is the way to do it.’
Rosie turned and looked over at Dimitri, who was doing something with a state-of-the-art pepper grinder that Trixietots clearly found extremely amusing.
When he saw Rosie looking at him, he put the grinder down, strode towards her and pulled her into an embrace with a flourish that made me suddenly completely understand why both the other women in the room seemed besotted. His charisma was not of the same brand as Jasper’s, but boy, did he have it.
‘You are old friend of my woman?’ he said.
‘Less of the old,’ I said, unable to resist a beaming great smile in answer to the one he gave me.
‘You are telling me off? Hey, Rosie, she is telling me off! How about that?’
‘I don’t think she’s serious,’ said Rosie. ‘Sorry. Sometimes the intention is lost in translation, if you know what I mean.’
‘Oh, God, no, I wasn’t telling you off,’ I assured him. ‘It’s just … banter, you know?’
‘Ah, yes, banter, I know of this.’ He looked at Trixietots. ‘Like when you say an inappropriate thing to me and then I tell you it is inappropriate because I have a girlfriend and you say, it’s OK, is only banter. Right?’
There was quite an awkward silence. Rosie looked pissed off, Trix shamefaced. I guessed Dimitri had dealt with that little problem. And it was clear to me that Rosie and Dimitri’s relationship was exclusive, which came as a relief. No orgies, then.
‘I’m a bit of a spare part here, aren’t I?’ said Trix, so woebegone that I felt for her.
‘No, not at all. If anyone is, it’s Rosie. She doesn’t have a role in the film.’
This seemed to cheer Trix, even if Rosie had a moment of miffedness.
I turned back to the coffee.
‘About this film,’ said Rosie as I poured. ‘Are you saying you’re going to be in it?’
She sounded as if she’d just heard I’d conceived the son of God.
‘Well … that’s Jasper’s plan,’ I said.
‘What? No way! You’re going to be in a porn flick?’
‘It’s not a porn flick! It’s an art-house movie about sexual mores … oh, God.’
I could see this statement was going to be tripping off my tongue a lot in my near future.
‘Oh, my God, wait until I tell the girls from uni,’ she gloated. ‘They’ll just die. You were always so untouchable. Never even had a drunken snog. Just those three years with Ben. Are you still in contact with him?’
‘No. I think he’s in America now.’
‘It’s just such a leap. From Ben, who still wore jumpers his mum knitted for him, to Jasper Jay. I mean … how does it happen?’
I put the cups on the table with an enigmatic raise of my eyebrows.