...So what's wrong with my petit fours, Stephen, why are you laughing at them? He asked, dangerously?"
"Oh lord, I'm sorry, Gee - but honestly, I mean... Look, it's the power-to-weight ratio, okay? Effort expended versus achievement attained: double-e does not equal double-a. Those little biscuits..."
"Spumini."
"Spumini, whatever. Or these chocolates, even, they're gorgeous, they're to die for, I would die for them gladly - but I wouldn't ever have made them..."
"No. Of course you wouldn't. That's why dinner's always on me, because I would, because I do. Because details matter."
"I thought dinner was always on you because this was Quin's home too, and we like to come back. You could come to mine if you wanted, I may not be you but I'm not Stephen either, I can actually cook..."
"I know you can, Didge, but - no, you're right, it's important to be here. Whether you like it or not. Whether Stephen laughs at me or not."
"Oh, don"t mind Stephen. He just doesn"t understand anyone who makes anything, when there are shops that sell it. Do you, pet lamb?"
"Obviously not, why would I? But don't tell me you're offended, Gee, you've known me long enough."
"Too long, too long altogether. And I'm not offended, I'm just drawing the difference. The unparallel. Remember how people used to say we were such a team? They never saw us apart, they couldn't tell us apart? Remember that? And then Quin died, the binding broke, whatever, and it was like a firework bursting apart, all these sparks shooting all over, felt like we couldn't get away from each other quick enough..."
"Not a firework. Bad image. Fireworks are all, they're all starry, and then they burn out. That's not us. Twelve good men and true, not a star among us, and we just went different ways is all."
"Micky burnt out."
"No, he didn't. Shut up, Stephen. Micky got careless. One way or another. He got infected, whether from Quin before or Quin after or someone else, we don't know and nor did he. Virus is virus, that's all that matters, we've always said that. And then he was careless with his sickness too, careless with himself, and he died before he needed to. That's not, that's not the issue. Unparallel, that was good, Gee. Like when you cut a rope, and the end frays, all those threads going off in different directions? That's what happened to us. As a team, we came unravelled. But that's right, that's what ought to happen. Team is temporary, individual is for ever."
"I think it's sad."
"Of course you do. We all lost, but you lost the most; and what we had mattered more to you, you were right here at the heart of it, so you feel it more when you lose it. And you're the one who believes in other people. We're singletons, Stephen and me; not you. You weren't made for this, you weren't meant for it. But we haven't lost it all, Gee. We haven't lost it all. We three are here, at least. And we're still in touch with the others, some of them, we can find them all. Ropes fray, but you can splice all those little threads back together again..."
"Whip them."
"What?"
"You're getting your metaphors muddled. You splice two ropes together, to make a join. Like marrying. Like Gee and Quin. When you tie up a frayed end to stop it fraying any more, it's called whipping."
"Shut up, Stephen. Boy scout. You see what I'm saying, Gee? We can get them back. Some of them. Not all, maybe, and they won't come every year, but..."
"If I build it, they will come?"
"Well, yeah. If we ask them, if we don't just let it ride."
"Tenth anniversary next year."
"I suppose it is, yeah. We shouldn't let that ride."
"It's a Monday, mind."
"Doesn't matter. Got to be the day."
"Next year in Jerusalem, then."
"Well, here would be better. All things considered."
"Right, then. Here it is.