Over You (4 page)

For a second, Josie had the urge to dodge into WH Smith and hide behind the newspaper stand. Had this been such a good idea? Did she really have anything in common with Nell and Lisa any more?

Nell looked over her shoulder and saw her hovering. ‘Come on, Jose,’ she said, waiting for her to catch up. ‘It’s not like you to hang about when there’s shopping to do.’

Josie smiled and nodded. These were her friends, after all. These were pretty much her oldest and closest friends, who’d seen her pluck her own nostril hair, heard her snore and held her hair back for her when she’d vomited up ten strawberry daiquiris over that minging Kilburn toilet. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’m coming.’ And even if she
was
taken aback by Lisa’s transformation, they were all grown women, right? So she’d leave all that she’s-prettier-than-me stuff back in the school playground where it belonged, wouldn’t she? Right.

The plan for the day had already been discussed. Forget the West End or Oxford Street for grown-up shopping. If they were going to have a proper reunion, they needed a Saturday afternoon at Camden Market. Back in the old days, the three of them had made regular weekend pilgrimages there for cut-price clubby outfits, bargain boots and all sorts of tat to adorn the grotty flats. It had also been a favourite place for a mid-afternoon pint, which had often stretched well into a drunken evening.

Where else could they possibly head this afternoon than Camden Town? It would be an essential nostalgia trip, an excellent starting point for the weekend. ‘And if we get there and realize that everything in the market is hippy crap that we wouldn’t be seen dead in these days, we can always go somewhere else,’ Lisa said as they left the station and headed around the corner towards a bus stop.

Nell grinned. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of hippy crap,’ she said. ‘Don’t knock it, Lise. Hippy crap has served me well through the years.’

Josie definitely fancied Camden over any grown-up shops Lisa might have been thinking of too. She’d had enough of swanky boutiques for skinny people yesterday, thank you very much. ‘Anyway, we can always go for a . . . drink, if we have to,’ she said. She’d been on the verge of saying ‘a cup of tea’, but had bitten back the words just in time. Although she never usually touched the booze until the boys were in bed (not unless it was a really,
really
trying tea-time, anyway), she was quite sure Nell and Lisa had no such rules.

‘Well, I suppose so, if we’re
forced
to go to the pub, at gunpoint or something . . .’ Lisa said.

‘Or if someone threatens to poke us in the eye with joss sticks,’ Nell giggled.

‘Here,’ Lisa said, pulling up by a bus stop. ‘This is our one.’

‘So,’ Nell said conversationally as they waited with a couple of acne-scarred Goths and a smooching couple, ‘how did you do it, Lise? How did you lose all that weight?’

‘Well, believe it or not, it wasn’t through the sleep diet or the puke diet,’ Lisa replied, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she grinned.

‘Oh God! The puke diet! I’d forgotten that,’ Josie laughed. ‘Eat whatever you feel like, knowing you’ll get so lashed later you’ll puke it all up anyway.’ She winced at the memory. ‘We were so gross, weren’t we?’

‘The sleep diet was a good one, though,’ Nell reminded her. ‘Stay in bed all day so that you don’t consume any calories . . .’

‘Even if does mean you lose your job, remember, Nell?’ Lisa pointed out, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

‘Oh yeah,’ Nell nodded. ‘I knew there was a downside. No calorific gain, but lots of financial pain.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, it was a crap job anyway, so . . .’

‘But forget our tragic diets,’ Josie interrupted, turning to Lisa. ‘How
did
you do it? I feel blobby just looking at you.’

‘Spinning,’ Lisa replied, pulling a face. ‘And stress. Too much work. Lots of shagging. Being too lazy to buy food . . .’

‘What’s spinning?’ Josie asked.

‘Shagging who?’ Nell chimed in.

‘Spinning is basically torture in Lycra,’ Lisa replied with a grim expression on her face. ‘Spinning is like gym hell.’

‘God,’ Josie replied, none the wiser. She couldn’t help eyeing up Lisa’s slim flanks as she leaned forward to flag down the bus. ‘Well, whatever kind of torture it is, it works. In fact, I’m going to book myself in for some as soon as I get back home. I need to be tortured at once!

‘And the shagging?’ Nell prompted. ‘And please don’t reply,
“Heaven
in Lycra” or I’ll have to push you into the traffic.’

Lisa grinned and whipped out her travelcard. ‘I think that’s a conversation for the pub, don’t you?’ she replied.

The smell of Camden hit Josie as soon as they got off the bus on the High Street. Incense, kebabs, patchouli oil . . . It was all exactly the same. The pounding bass-y reggae; the shops full of buckled biker boots and outrageous platform heels; the clusters of skanky teenagers smoking roll-ups, clad in their uniform of ripped black bullet belts and piercings; the cannabis flags fluttering like bunting from shop windows . . .

It made her feel old. It made her feel like a middle-aged mother. Which, of course, she was. But she wished she didn’t
look
quite so much like one.

‘Right,’ Lisa said, looking around as if they’d just landed on a different planet. ‘God, Camden High Street. So here we are again. I think I need a drink already.’

‘I think I need some food,’ Josie said, eyeing a bistro across the road.

‘I think I need to hear who Lisa’s been shagging,’ Nell said, steering them to the pedestrian crossing. ‘Twelve o’clock’s not too early for a drink and lunch, is it?’

‘Not in my belly it isn’t,’ Josie replied. She suddenly felt anxious as she saw Lisa consult the watch on her slim, slim wrist Oh no, Lisa wasn’t going to sit there and just
watch
them eating while she picked at a single grain of rice or something, was she? Josie couldn’t bear it when people did that. Talk about killing off everybody else’s fun. Today she just wanted to enjoy herself, not be reminded about calories and spare handfuls of flesh.

‘Looks like wine o’clock to me,’ Lisa said, ‘and I’m absolutely ravenous. I forgot all about breakfast this morning, I was so excited about seeing you two.’

The crossing started bleeping for them to go, and Josie pressed her lips tight shut together. She’d been excited about the weekend too, but that hadn’t stopped her wolfing down two rounds of toast and the boys’ leftover bacon. How did anyone
forget
to eat, anyway? Was it actually possible? She always suspected models and celebrities were lying when she read statements like that in magazines. Surely nobody was
that
forgetful? Ever since she’d had the boys, Josie’s whole life had been charted by mealtimes. ‘Mum, is it nearly lunchtime?’ ‘Mum, what’s for tea?’ ‘Mum, I’m starving! I’m THIS hungry!’

They crossed the road and went into the cafe. It was vaguely familiar, and Josie struggled to think why. ‘I’m sure I’ve been here before,’ she said, staring around. It was gloomy inside, but cosy-gloomy, with lamps on the wall, leather armchairs and an open fire in the front. Further back were scruffy, chipped tables and chairs. ‘I’ve got major
déjà vu.
Ringing any bells for you two?’

‘No,’ Lisa said. ‘Not even a tinkle. Hello?’ she called over to a waiter.

Nell started to laugh and elbowed Josie. ‘You
have
been in here – and so have I,’ she said. ‘Don’t you remember? We came in here for lunch – well, actually, it was probably a late breakfast for us in those days – and we met those awful blokes. Yours was a poet. Mine was an artist, I think.’ She shook her head. ‘Must have been ten years ago or so. Jesus!’

Josie racked her brains. A vague shadowy memory flickered in her mind, of an earnest, brown-haired guy trying to sneak his arm around her back on a slippery leather sofa. ‘I remember,’ she said. ‘Didn’t they keep trying to get us to look at their etchings?’

‘Something like that,’ Nell said. ‘I think we just let them buy us drinks, then made a swift exit.’

Josie stared at the sofa in one corner, as if half expecting to see a ghostly image of herself still there, giggling and flirting with some poor sod. ‘What mercenary bitches we were,’ she said, feeling guilty and amused at the same time.

Nell grinned. ‘Thank goodness we’re so mature and sensible these days!’ she said, wide-eyed.

‘Table for three, please,’ Lisa said crisply to the waiter, as if she were in a grand hotel instead of a dive-y little cafe.

‘Anywhere you like,’ he said, pressing a pile of greasy menus into her hand.

Once they were settled with a beer each, Nell planted both elbows on the table and leaned forward. ‘So, Miss Lisa,’ she started, ‘back to your love life . . .’

‘Oh God, do we have to?’ Lisa moaned.

‘You might as well tell us now, before you get too drunk and lose all your inhibitions,’ Nell pointed out. ‘At least this way you can give us the edited highlights while you’ve still got your wits about you.’

Josie laughed. ‘And well winkle the really juicy bits out of you later on,’ she said, tilting her bottle of Peroni and taking a long, cool gulp. Delicious. She raised an eyebrow. ‘So, let’s guess. He’s your personal trainer on some kind of two-for-one deal.’

‘Cheeky cow!’ Lisa said, spluttering on her beer. ‘My personal trainer is as gay as fairy lights. No, it’s . . . Well, there’s nothing serious. I’m just dating, you know.’

‘Anyone particularly falling-in-lovable?’ Nell pressed.

Lisa shook her head. ‘There hasn’t been for ages,’ she said, suddenly looking down at the table. ‘Years. No, these are all just casual flings. A bit of fun, you know the score. Excellent sex, now bye, who’s next?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Josie said, even though that was a complete lie. The thought of still having loveless shags with dates who didn’t set her heart racing filled Josie with dread and pity – how could Lisa
bear
it, not having met the right man and settled down with a family by now? How could she stand sleeping alone all those nights, with nobody putting their arms around her? But she certainly wasn’t going to say as much.

‘Do you ever hear from – what was his name? – Guy?’ Nell asked.

Lisa shook her head. ‘Nope.
Nada.
’ She tipped her head back, avoiding Nell’s questioning gaze, and had a long slug of beer.

Josie had a swig of hers too, wondering what was going on in Lisa’s head. She could tell there was no chance of getting any more answers about Guy or anyone else right now. Lisa’s private life had always stayed far more private than Josie’s and Nell’s, even during their most drunken confess-all girly nights in. Josie had known via Nell that Lisa had had her heart broken really badly a few years ago by this bloke Guy, but Josie had never even met him, and hadn’t heard the full story. Besides, at the time it had happened she was still in the throes of early motherhood – the boys were probably no more than a year old, and her mind was full to its brim with their lives. Long heart-to-heart sessions about anything else had not been possible. Nell, too, had been away somewhere hot and Third Worldish, so hadn’t been able to fulfil her best-friend comforting duties either. Josie felt bad that Lisa had had to go through her heartbreak without her two closest allies beside her.

‘Anyway, what about you?’ Lisa asked, turning to Nell. ‘How’s it all going with your boyo in the valleys? Any plans for sprogging or vows or anything serious yet?’

Nell shook her head, her mouth in a funny little twist. ‘Nope,
nada
,’ she parroted. ‘It’s all over, me and Gareth. As of last week, I am an eligible bachelorette once again.’

Josie put down her beer harder than she meant to and it banged on the table, sending a surge of bubbles fizzing up its green neck. ‘What happened? Why didn’t you say something earlier?’ she asked.

Nell shrugged, a cagey expression slipping over her face. ‘Just because,’ she replied. ‘I don’t really feel like talking about it. So . . .’

‘OK,’ Lisa said, her dark eyes on Nell.

Josie leaned over the table and squeezed Nell’s hand. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘Change the subject if you want, but . . .’

Nell’s mouth turned up in a smile shape but a light seemed to have gone out of her eyes. ‘I’m cool,’ she said.

‘And don’t even think about asking me if I want to do a Ten Reasons Why He Was a Wanker Anyway list, all right?’ She grabbed a menu and opened it up in front of her face. ‘Right, let’s choose some food.’

Josie and Lisa exchanged glances as they took menus themselves and flipped them open. OK, so Nell’s love life – or recently extinct one – was clearly out of bounds. And judging by the way Lisa had shut down so completely when quizzed about relationships, so was hers. So that just leaves me, thought Josie, rolling her eyes. And who wants to hear about my marriage? It would seem like boasting if she started talking about Pete now.
Yes,
we’re coming up to our seven-year anniversary – I know! I can hardly believe it either. Yes, we’re still madly in love. Well, you know – comfortable together, rather than tearing each other’s clothes off all the time, but that’s what happens, I guess, when you’re settled down. The honeymoon doesn’t last for ever! Anyway, we’re trying for a little girl now, a sister for the boys. Oh, it’ll be lovely. Rose, we’re going to call her. We’ve got it all worked out!