Journey to the Centre of Myself (21 page)

***

I’ve read enough. We spent our marriage starving each other of oxygen instead of encouraging each other to breathe. I know we’ve done it out of love, but it’s turned into resentment and loathing. I need to talk to someone, ask their advice, and I know who—Jo. She’s been a part of things all along, and yet I’ve kept her at a distance; an acquaintance, never a friend. Tomorrow I will apologise and then I’m going to ask her what she would do if she were me. She was intrinsic in starting my relationship, and now she may now be orchestral in ending it.

Chapter 22

Amber

I’ve got exactly forty-five minutes before Mirelle turns up. We need to get her stuff in the house and head off to Jo’s at lightning speed. I stand in front of my wardrobe contemplating what I’m going to wear. How on earth did Mirelle and I not manage to have this conversation today? What do you wear to a colleague’s dinner party if you’re ninety-five percent sure that your date isn’t turning up?

I settle on a short red dress with sequins around the hem, to which I attach a flashing Christmas tree brooch. I grab a silky black pashmina to wrap around my shoulders. We are getting a taxi there and back so I don’t need a heavy coat.

The doorbell goes and I rush to open it while trying to put on a shoe. ‘I won’t be a minute, bring your stuff in.’

‘Err, what stuff?’ says a male voice.

I peer up. ‘Shaun. Oh sorry, I never got back to you about what time I needed Kevin to get here.’

‘Well Kevin couldn’t make it, so I’ve… err… come here myself.’

I picture Mirelle and Shaun. Oh, bloody hell.

I move to let him in. ‘If anyone asks you’re my plus one.’

He smiles. ‘I’m a lucky guy.’

‘Don’t get any ideas, but thanks for coming anyway, though I don’t believe Mirelle would have accepted you as her plus one.’

‘Yeah, I agree. I’m trying it on to be honest. Figured the worst you could do was tell me to go home and the best thing was the free food and booze.’

‘Well as long as you understand that I have no romantic interest in you, so keep away from any mistletoe.’

Shaun pulls on the neck of his sweater. ‘God, Amber, that’s a bit crushing, woman. I was hoping I might grow on you.’

‘Sorry. I'm a bitch. It’s not you. My soon to be ex-husband and a new boyfriend are giving me the runaround. It’s put me off men.’

‘Friends?’

‘Absolutely.’ I give him a kiss on the cheek.

‘Oh, I could grow to like being your friend.’

‘Sit on the sofa. I’m waiting for Mirelle to show up.’

‘Hey,’ he looks around. ‘No murdered sofa. Oh, you’ve moved the tree. That’s an improvement on the view over there.’

‘Do you like my tree?’ I admire all seven foot of spruced up wonder. It heaves with glittery baubles and twinkling lights.

‘Well, it’s very, ahem, majestic.’

‘It rocks and you know it.’

‘Do you not think it’s a little on the large size?’

‘Well, if you’re going to have one…’

‘Is that why I’m not suitable boyfriend material, cos I iz petite?’ He pouts.

‘Ha ha.’

He takes a cracker from the tree. ‘Go on, you know you want to?’

‘No, I don’t. I leave them for Christmas Day.’

‘Gosh, that’s twice in one night you’ve turned down a cracker.’

‘Why, when was the other time?’ Mirelle is here, standing with her hands folded across the chest of her silver bandage dress, looking at Shaun like he’s a fermenting vegetable.

‘Oh, hi, Mirelle,’ he says, hand outstretched. ‘Lovely to meet you again.’

‘Sorry we’re on our way out,’ she says, touching the end of his fingers so fast you’d have thought he’d caused her an electric shock.

‘I know. I’m Amber’s plus one.’

‘Really?’ Her eyebrow arches.

‘Yes, Kevin was coming, but he couldn’t make it,’ he adds.

‘Is that so? Why, Amber, you are full of surprises this evening, aren’t you?’

There’s a honk from outside.

‘Gosh, in all this excitement, I forgot the taxi was out there waiting for us. Let’s get off to the Christmas party of the Century shall we?’

Everyone walks outside and I lock the front door.

‘Shotgun,’ shouts Shaun.

Mirelle fixes me with a withering stare. ‘Dear God, Amber, I don’t understand how you get yourself into these situations, but I tell you,’ she pauses to slide into her seat gracefully, ‘You need a New Year’s resolution to stop acting impulsively because it’s having repercussions on my social life.’ She tilts her head to the front, where Shaun is making conversation with the cab driver. ‘Now, thanks to you, I’m spending my evening with a colleague
and
a Troll.’

‘Ssh,’ I warn her. Then I tell the cab driver Jo’s address.

I decide to hold off on telling Mirelle her ex-lover will be there too.

Jo lives in a detached four-bedroom house in Altrincham. We pull up on the tree-lined street. Lots of the houses in the area have outdoor Christmas lights, but here its understated elegance with sparkle added to trees, rather than inflatable snowmen.

The three of us are greeted at the door by Jo’s husband, who ushers us in and points to a small table holding Champagne and Mulled wine.

‘Help yourself to whichever you like,’ he says. ‘If you don’t drink, there’s water in the tap, hey?’ He walks off laughing.

‘Looks like this party started without us,’ says Mirelle, picking up a glass of champers. ‘Come on you two,’ she says, pointing at the glasses. ‘If we’re going to survive this thing we’ll need lots of alcohol.’

We walk into the large lounge area where people are milling around. There’s the odd familiar face from work and many more people who I don’t know. Mirelle freezes at the side of me.

‘I need to leave, now.’

I grab her arm and follow the direction of her stare. Sure enough, it’s our boss, Smithy.

‘Not a chance. You look knockout tonight, Mirelle, and you will show him what he’s missing. I have to say, though, I don’t know what you saw in him.’

‘I don’t want to bump into his wife, though. What if she knows about me and attacks me with the Turkey knife or something?’

‘Mir, Smithy must have known you were coming. I’m sure he wouldn’t have risked bringing his wife if he thought she might end up in a standoff with his ex-lover. Anyway, let’s perch on those seats at the end of the dining table, my feet are killing me and next to you I seem like one of the Seven Dwarves.’

‘Me too. We only need another five and we can have our own Xmas Panto,’ adds Shaun.

‘Oh, I’d forgotten you were here,’ says Mirelle before she stomps off to the table.

‘Ignore her, she’s hurting. She’s been dumped by that idiot over there,’ I mumble at Shaun.

‘Crikey, she went out with
him
?’

‘I know, I don’t get it either, but she says she loves him or loved him, I don’t know which. I was too busy being gobsmacked at the time.’

‘So has she come to try to win him back? To get him to compare her to his wife? Cos I can tell you now that wife has got her man by the balls. See that body language.’ I peek and Smithy is indeed glued to his wife, looking like every word she utters drops golden eggs from her mouth.

‘Mirelle didn’t know he’d be here. I didn’t tell her.’ I warn Shaun.

‘Message received and understood. Err, don’t take this the wrong way, but why did you want to come to this party? It doesn’t seem very… you?’

I sigh. ‘We used to go around to Olly and Sam’s at Christmas, or they came to us. So I didn’t just lose my husband, I lost my social life too. That’s why I kind of jumped at the chance to do some celebrating, even if it was at a colleague’s house. I figured it couldn’t be as bad as spending the time alone at home.’

‘Come on, friend,’ he escorts me to the table and to the seat next to Mirelle. ‘I’ll get us some more drinks.’

Jo comes over to say hello. She’s in full on hostess mode, being stopped by people every few minutes and asked where loos are, or seeing if people need another drink.

‘So is she okay then with him being here?’ she asks me.

‘I think so. She was a little shocked but seems to be over it now. She’s decided tormenting Shaun is her new favourite sport.’

‘Poor guy.’

‘I think he’s secretly enjoying it. He’s winding her up all the more, singing Uptown Girl at her, though she only knows the Children in Need version and I had to explain to her that he was making out he was Billy Joel to her Christie Brinkley.’

‘Well, it was nice knowing you, Amber, I’m not sure you’ll live to see Christmas by the glare she just shot you.’

I laugh.

‘Anyway, I’d better go. Oh,’ she sees a woman walking toward her with a coat in her hand. ‘I’ll catch up with you in a minute. Amber, would you mind showing Karen where she can put her coat?’

I smile at a lady I recognise from work. The one whose job I ended up with. Floor, swallow me up now.

I get up and walk over to her. ‘Hello,’ I say, ‘Well, Jo’s husband took my friend’s coat upstairs somewhere.’ I crane my head. ‘Let me see if I can find him.’

‘Amber, isn’t it?’ she says to me. She looks different from when she was at work. Less hassled and her hair is cut in a modern style with a lovely gloss to it. She looks five years younger than when I last saw her.

‘Yes. You look well,’ I say. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, you just lost your job, and I put my foot in my mouth saying you look well, because you do, but, well, I feel responsible that you don’t have your job and… do you want me to leave? Not the party, though I think I will leave now cos I’m making an idiot of myself, but my job, do you want me to get your job back for you?’

‘Amber. Goodness. Draw a breath.’ She laughs. ‘No, I don’t want my job back. I think losing it was one of the best things to happen to me. It’s made me realise I need to live again.’

Jo’s husband passes and takes Karen’s coat, leaving her hands free. ‘Let me get you a drink,’ I say. ‘Champagne or Mulled Wine?’

‘Oh, champagne please,’ she says. ‘I just came back from Berlin where they were serving it for breakfast, and then from Paris where I had some with snails.’

‘Gosh, you’re not kidding. No wonder you don’t want your job back. Okay, I’ll be right back.’

I get her a drink.

‘So is work as exciting as usual?’

‘It’s okay. Nice to have a few days off for the holidays.’

‘Is Mirelle still sleeping with Smithy?’

I gasp. ‘You knew?’

‘I was his secretary, it was obvious. He was always phoning his wife saying he’d be late home when I knew there weren’t any meetings, and they’d accidentally bump into each other on the way out.’

‘No, it’s over,’ I say, and glance over to where Mirelle is sitting with Shaun. ‘I just need to keep them separate. So, do you have any more plans for travelling?’

‘I’ve no idea what I will be doing this next year to be honest.’ She looks sad, and it contrasts with the happiness her face showed when she talked about travelling.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘Oh, it’s not your fault. Are you always apologising for everything?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but that’s because I’ve usually done something ridiculous beforehand.’

‘Is that your husband?’ She nods towards Shaun.

‘No. He’s probably at home, with his pregnant mistress.’

Karen almost drops her glass.

‘Oh, sorry,’ I say. ‘See, that’s why I’m always apologising.’ I point to my mouth. ‘Mouth opens before brain engages.’

‘No, I’m sorry for mentioning it. That must be difficult, especially at this time of year.’

I shrug. ‘Well, I’m trying not to think about it too much. I’m not sure we would have lasted anyway.’

‘Well I’m not sure I’ll be married this time next year either,’ she says quietly. I only just catch her words with the party songs blaring around us. I don’t think she wants a response and I don’t know what to say to her anyway.

‘Well, if you’ll excuse me, I want to say hello to Jo, who looks like she might finally have a minute. Thanks for getting me the drink.’

‘Oh, no worries, it was nice talking to you. Have a nice Christmas.’

‘Thanks. You too.’

Then we regard each other; the separated woman, and the woman who might be at the end of her marriage. I wonder if she’s thinking what I’m thinking and wondering what there is to celebrate this Christmas.

The food has been served. Jo has prepared a huge buffet. She has several family members helping and I wonder if they’ve been around all day. I fail to see how she could have prepared all this herself unless she’s had it catered. About twenty of us take seats around the huge table. Others sit in chairs or on the sofa with little tables on their laps. I can tell she’s done this before, it’s very well organised.

I’m so ready for food. There were a few tiny canapes earlier, but they didn’t really count towards levelling out the alcohol. I’m feeling a bit woozy headed and can’t wait to tuck into some nice food. There’s sliced Turkey, some marinated Salmon, and a Goats cheese and onion tart, alongside a mass of seasonal vegetables and several versions of cooked potatoes. I didn’t realise we were having the full on Christmas experience, but then I should have known with Jo that it would never be a vol-au-vent and cocktail sausage event.