Anybody Out There - Marian Keyes (14 page)

"Sorry about that," she said. "Truly."
This was no Mrs. Danvers situation. She seemed sincerely sorry to have upset me.
"Whenever you're ready for dinner, come on down."
T    he dinner was the whole Thanksgiving nine yards: a massive turkey and millions of spuds
and vegetables and wine and champagne and crystal glasses and candles. The atmosphere was
very friendly, I was almost a hundred percent sure that Mrs. Maddox hadn't spat in my soup,
everyone was chatting away, and even Old Man Maddox made a joke, and although it was about
the Democratic Pah-dy and I didn't understand it, I laughed obediently.
There was just one thing: not every one of the many photos on the dining-room walls was of
Aidan and Janie, but there were enough to keep giving me little shocks. Over the years Janie's
hair had got shorter. Good. Men like woman with long hair. And she'd plumped out a little but
she still looked very cheery and pleasant, the kind of woman that other women like.
In the middle of swallowing a mouthful of turkey, I spotted yet another picture that I'd missed
earlier and once again my gullet shut down briefly. I took a swig of wine to assist things along
and Old Man Maddox asked, "Janie, dear, can you pass the roast potatoes."
Who?
I looked from side to side, but as the dish of spuds was in front of me and Old Man Maddox was
looking my way, I concluded that it must be me he was talking to. Obediently I shunted the bowl
along and Kevin gave me a comforting wink and Aidan and Dianne looked horrified and
mouthed, "Sorry."
But two seconds later, Dianne said, "Oh, Aidan, we met Janie's dad at the hahd-ware stoh, he
says to tell you he finally finished the shed and to come by to see it. How long ago was it that
you guys stah-ted on it...?"
Then Old Man Maddox piped up. "You might like to know what he was doing at the hahd-ware
store?" he asked Aidan. He'd suddenly gone all bright-eyed and amused--it must have been the
drink. "Buying paint, that's what. White paint, by the way. For their place in Bah Hah-ba. He
gave it one summer like you asked him to, but we still can't figure what came over you two guys,
painting the place pink."
Flushed with amusement, he looked from Aidan to me, then panic flickered behind his eyes.
She's not Janie.

A    fter dinner, Aidan and I sat in the den; things were a little tense.
"I don't belong here, I shouldn't have come."
"No, you should! Really, you should. It'll get easier. I'm so sorry about my dad, he's a bit...he
doesn't mean it--he's in a world of his own half the time."
We sat in silence.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"About the carpet." It had some funny spiral pattern. "If you stare at it long enough, you feel like
your eyes are on springs. It's like they're zooming out of my head, then bouncing back in."
"I feel more like the floor is lifting up toward me, then falling down again."
We sat in companionable silence, watching the carpet do its thing, and suddenly we were friends
again.
"It'll be okay," Aidan said. "Just give it time. Please."
"Okay," I said. "My parents used to treat Shane like family, too."
"They loved him?"
"Well...no...actually they hated him. But they still treated him like family."
T    he following day we went to the mall because there's only so much sitting around your new
boyfriend's parents' house, living in fear of hearing further reminiscences about his ex-girlfriend,
you can do. I kept stumbling over conversations like "Remember that holiday on Cape Cod. All
of us in the RV? Remember Janie did something or other?"
But once we were in the mall I cheered up because when I'm away from home, even shops that
are normally beneath me suddenly become exciting. I visited CVS, Express, and a whole load of
other crappy places, Aidan bought me a souvenir of Boston--a snow dome--then said, "Guess
we'd better go back."
So we got in the cah and had just left the pahking lot, when it happened. Even before Aidan
made a funny, involuntary noise, I'd noticed the jaw-clenching tension suddenly emanating from
him.

I looked out of the window, my eyes scudding from side to side, desperate to see what he'd seen.
A woman was walking toward us. But we were moving quite fast, we'd already passed her, and
my intuition was yelling, Look around, look around, quickly.
I whipped my head over my shoulder. The woman was walking away from us, wearing jeans and
looking (I couldn't help but notice) quite broad in the butt. Of course, I should have been proud
that Aidan was the kind of guy who didn't discriminate against girls with big bums, but I had
other things on my mind. She was quite tall and her hair was straight and dark and hung to her
shoulders. Her bag was nice, I'd seen them in Zara. In fact I'd nearly bought one myself but I
already had another that was very similar. I kept watching until she disappeared into the lot.
I turned back and settled myself firmly against the seat. "That was Janie, wasn't it?" If he lied to
me at that moment, there would be no future for us.
He nodded, a little grimly. "Yes, that was Janie."
"A bit of a coincidence."
"Yep."
B    ack at the Maddoxes, having a cup of coffee before leaving for the airport, I noticed several
fat photo albums in the bookcase and I suddenly imagined them whooshing out from their
shelves, their pages flying open and the photos taking flight, filling up the room like a flock of
birds. Hundreds of them, flying past me, getting tangled in my hair as they documented countless
Aidan and Janie events: Aidan and Janie at their prom; Aidan and Janie at their high-school
graduation; Aidan and Janie at Aidan's thirtieth-birthday dinner; Aidan and Janie at the surprise
pah-dy Aidan threw for Janie's promotion; Aidan and Janie at their high-school reunion; Aidan
and Janie winning a bowling trophy; Aidan and Janie on holiday in Jamaica, cooking clams
together in Cape Cod, at the farewell shindig before Aidan went to New York, painting the house
in Bah Hah-ba pink...
W        e were very quiet on the flight home. The visit had been a terrible mistake, a risk worth
taking but that hadn't worked out. Aidan was a great guy in lots of ways but he had too much
baggage and too much unfinished business. He belonged in Boston with Janie, and I admitted to
myself that, no matter what, he would always return to her and she would always take him back.
They had too much history, too much in common.

He was gray green with tension and in the cab from the airport he held my hand so tight he hurt
my fingers. He was trying to figure out a way to tell me it was over, but there was no need, I
knew exactly what was going on.
The cab dropped me at my apartment and I kissed Aidan on the cheek and said, "Take care of
yourself."
As I clambered out of the cab he called after me, "Anna?"
"Yes?"
"Anna, will you marry me?"
I stared at him for a long, long moment, then said, "Get a grip on yourself," and slammed the car
door.
20
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: You're going to love this!
Coming in to work this morning (second day back) I met Tabitha from Bergdorf Baby and she
checked out my scar and said, Hey, that look is beyond! Then she got it that it was a real scar and
she literally recoiled in horror. Her head pulled back so far her skull was practically resting
between her shoulder blades. She went straight to the bathroom. I think she might have
varminted.
I hope you're okay, I love you.
Your girl, Anna
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: You're going to love this too!
People at work think I've been to Arizona. On my way back from lunch with Teenie, I met an
EarthSource girl in the elevator and she said that she hadn't seen me in a while, and I said, No,
I've been out of town.
I thought everyone here at work knew what had happened but I suppose those EarthSource
girls are space cadets. It must be the diet of mung beans. She asked how long I'd been gone and I
said, About two months. Then she gives me a meaningful look and mouths something, and I had
to lean closer to her rough-woven, sacking pinafore and say, I'm sorry, what was that? So she
does it again and this time I got it and she was saying, One day at a time.
Er, right...
I hope you're okay, I'm thinking of you all the time, I love you.
Your girl, Anna

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Thursday's clothes
A yellow poplin Doris Day style shirtwaister, over black leggings patterned with blue spiky
hearts, a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off, and my blue pumps, the ones you said were the
pointiest shoes ever made, so pointy that the last six inches are invisible. No hat today--a little
treat for myself.
I love you.
Your girl, Anna
I was writing him two or three e-mails a day, keeping the tone light and breezy. I didn't want to
guilt him out by saying how desperate I was to hear from him. Better to just keep the lines of
communication open so he'd contact me if he could. I was also checking his horoscope every
day, trying to get some insight into how he might be feeling. Stars Online said:
Don't allow others' need for closure to force you into hurried decisions. Since you're
unlikely to know all your options until early May, they'll just have to wait.
I didn't really like that, so I went to Hot Scopes!
Career-minded Scorps could be looking at an overseas business trip. Could be, you meet
a desirable stranger who speaks a different language. Whatever or whoever it turns out to
be, you'll be pleased that the world is a small place!
I didn't like that at all. It made me cry. Quickly I clicked on Today's stars.
Try to make plans and you'll only encounter frustration. Be a free spirit and by mid-May
you'll be so confident that you'll wonder why you ever worried.
That was better. No desirable strangers. I shoved my feet into my pointy blue pumps and picked
up my keys, but at the door of the apartment I stopped, then went back to the phone. I just
wanted to ring his cell phone. Again. The pleasure of hearing his voice, even if it was just his
phone message, was like a mouthful of chocolate when you're craving sugar.
21
The best in landlubberly eye care! I stared at my screen and took a swig of coffee. No, the
coffee didn't help--the line was still atrocious. I deleted it and faced my blank monitor, willing
inspiration to strike. I was trying to write a press release for Eye Eye Captain, our new eye
treatments, and was attempting a play on mutiny, salt water, piracy, rum, and other ship-based
stuff. But it so wasn't working. I'd seen Aidan again on the way to work this morning. This time

he was walking along Fifth Avenue in a jacket that I didn't recognize. He'd found time to buy
new clothes but not to call me? Once again, the taxi was moving too fast, so I didn't get the
driver to stop. But now I desperately wished that I had and the regret was interfering with my
concentration. Or maybe it was the painkillers. Something was filling my head with cotton wool.
I typed Eye, Eye, Captain, then had absolutely nothing further to say. God, I really needed to get
it together. It wasn't as if I was in the lowly position of junior account assistant (that was Brooke
now). I was assistant senior account manager and I had responsibilities.
How I got promoted
T    he summer I joined Candy Grrrl, our Lip-plumping Iced Sorbet �bergloss sold out across
the world and there were fights at makeup counters. Well, there weren't really. What actually
happened was that at Nordstrom in Seattle there was a little tussle between two sisters over the
last Candy Grrrl gloss in the Pacific Northwest. However, it was settled quite amicably--I
believe the terms were that the one who got the gloss would babysit the other one's kids that
night. But some smart girl (me) managed to spin the incident into an (almost) news story. I
issued a press release with a big, bold header, CANDY GRRRL BITCH FIGHT, and the gods must
have been smiling on me because the New York Post and Daily News picked it up. Then the
regionals, then there was a small segment on CNN. See, it was August, nothing else was
happening. But by then enough buzz had been generated so that there really were scuffles at
Candy Grrrl counters. At the Manhattan Bloomingdale's concession one woman shoulder-shoved
another and the shoved woman said, "Hey! Watch it! It's not even your color!"
Then Jay Leno made a joke (not very funny, but who cares) about people pulling guns on one
another at Candy Grrrl counters, and the net effect of all the publicity was that I got promoted.
Wendell, the person I replaced at Candy Grrrl, got moved sideways to Visage, our po-faced
French brand, and she happily surrendered her pink trilbies and novelty shoes for pencil skirts
and fiercely waisted jackets.
I   typed Eye, Eye, Captain one more time. I was actually scared. This was my third day back at
work and I still hadn't produced so much as a decent press release. I realized I had hoped that the
short, sharp shock of returning to work would snap me back into normality, but it hadn't
happened. I felt like I was in a dream, trying to run, with legs of lead. My head wouldn't think,
my body was in pain, everything felt like the world had tilted off its axis.
Forty minutes later, my screen said:

TAKE IT ON BOARD, ME HEARTIES!
You can sail the high seas but Eye Eye Captain is the most effective,
most advanced one-stop eye treatment you'll find.
Dark circles?--All washed up!
Morning puffiness?--Throw it overboard!
Fine lines and wrinkles?--Make 'em walk the plank!
The parrot on your shoulder?--Sorry, that's your problem.
Teenie looked over my shoulder at my screen. "Yo ho ho," she said, with sympathy.
"You'd want to see my other attempts."
"It's your first week back, you're out of practice."
"And on heavy medication."
"It'll get easier. Want me to have a go?"
Teenie did her best to help me, but Teenie had her own troubles: she was responsible for the
diffusion ranges, Candy for a Baby and Candy Man. Mind you, with only twelve products in the
children's line and ten in the men's, she had nothing like the same responsibility as me. (Fifty-
eight products, in innumerable colorways, and counting. We seemed to launch something new
every other week.)
Lauryn ran in and shrieked, "Is that press release ready?"
"Just coming," I said while Teenie muttered in my ear, "First the fat gets metabolized. Then the
lean tissue; eventually the muscle goes, and finally the organs. At this point the body is actually
digesting itself. Would that dumb woman ever eat something?" Teenie was studying medicine in
night school and liked sharing her knowledge.
I printed out my crappy press release and went to Lauryn's desk, ready to play the humiliation
game.
The responsibility for Candy Grrrl's publicity was shared out between me and Lauryn like this: I
did all the work and came up with all the ideas. While she made my life a misery, was paid 50
percent more than me, and got all the credit.