Free Bachelor Boys by Kate Saunders Page B

only here because Phoebe begged.”
    They both laughed.
    â€œShe said that if we didn’t come she wouldn’t have the car mended,” Ben said.
    â€œAll right.” It could not be put off any longer. “Let’s sit down.” I sat in the armchair. Ben, after a fight with Fritz’s feet, took the other end of the sofa. “Phoebe doesn’t know I’m telling you this,” I said. “But basically, she’s asked me to find wives for you.”
    And I outlined the idea. After a stunned moment or two, they caught each other’s eye and burst into roars of laughter.
    â€œYou’ll have to clean up your act,” Ben said, punching Fritz.
    â€œMe?” yelled Fritz. “What about you? You’ll have to wash your prepuce.”
    He said the last word in such a silly voice that I started laughing too. “Seriously,” I said. “If we’re going to do this thing properly, we ought to talk a bit about where we go next.” I stood up. “We can do it over dinner.”
    â€œHold it,” Fritz said. He was no longer laughing. He swung himself into an upright position, and his black eyes snapped at me belligerently. “This has stopped being amusing. It’s getting surreal.”
    â€œYeah,” said Ben. “Totally surreal. I feel Salvador Dali’s about to walk in with an enormous fish.”
    Fritz and I shot him impatient looks. His rambling tendency was getting in the way of the argument, as it had often done in the past.

    â€œLet me get this straight, dear Grimble,” Fritz said. “You’ve actually promised our mother you’ll find wives for us?”
    â€œI obviously didn’t promise. I just wanted to help.”
    â€œYou just wanted to muck about with our sex lives.”
    â€œI did not!”
    â€œWomen always try to change you,” Ben said, off on one of his diversions. “And when they find they can’t, you have to go through the unutterable hurt of knowing they don’t like you as you are. Every woman I’ve ever loved has hurt me.”
    â€œLook, you’re both single,” I said. “All I’m asking you to do is spend some time with a few of my friends.”
    â€œI’ve seen all your friends,” Fritz said, “and I don’t fancy any of them. They all seem to wear thick glasses and cut their hair with hedge-trimmers.”
    â€œYou know that’s not fair!” I cried, as if Fritz and I were six years old again and having one of our fights over the swing.
    â€œHe means that Honor chick from the other night,” Ben said helpfully. “As a matter of fact, I rather liked her. But that doesn’t mean I want to marry her.”
    â€œThank you,” Fritz said. “We’ll find our own wives.”
    â€œWhen you’ve finished mucking about with other people’s,” I said.
    Ben was injured. “What’s that supposed to mean? If you’re talking about Vinnie, you’ve got it wrong. It’s nothing more than a close friendship, okay?”
    Fritz scowled. “Why are our private lives suddenly your business?”
    â€œThere’s nothing particularly private about your private life, Fritz. The whole of north London seems to know about you and Madeleine.”
    â€œSo what if they do? Her husband hasn’t found out yet.”
    â€œYou’re a bloody disgrace,” I snapped. “You think you can just carry on forever, doing whatever the hell you like—behaving as if you were still at college, as if responsibility was something for suckers—”
    â€œAnd you’ve decided it’s time to turn me into a clone of Mister Dullard, the lawyer who books you for sex three weeks in advance.”
    At this point, I’m afraid I lost it. The crack about Matthew was the last straw. I hadn’t felt such volcanic fury with Fritz since I was ten.
    â€œThis is for Phoebe!” I yelled at