Trophy Life (25 page)

'Why are you telling me this? And why now?' This was the only question Amy could think to ask. Everything else was too big.

Binky finally turned to look at her. She was no longer smiling. Her expression was matter of fact, maybe even sympathetic.

'Because it’s done. Because it’s over. And because it really is time Kitty moved onto something else.' She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. Obviously this exchange was also done. 

The tears were back, but this time, Amy couldn’t control them. She couldn’t remember leaving the room, getting to the lobby or leaving, but she found herself in the street. Hit by the heady waft of the city air, she stopped and felt her tears turn cold on her cheeks. Scrabbling in her bag for her phone, she punched in an SOS and hit send.

'Coffee now'

Within seconds, the reply had joined her frantic message on the screen.

'Done'

***

'Who does that? I mean, really, who does that?'

Amy knew she was talking too loudly for a public venue. The couple at the next table in Starbucks inched away, keen for there to be distance between them and the ranting lunatic waving her venti latte around.  Lucy then gave them a ‘what?’ look that made them leave entirely. Having relayed the whole story to Lucy over coffee in Hampstead’s branch of the famed chain, they were now nursing the dregs of their drinks. It had been a relief to tell Lucy the full extent of the Drakers chapter of her life. There seemed little point in hiding it now.

Lucy was displaying a satisfyingly high level of shock. It was making her restless and agitated. She kept changing her seating position, crossing her legs then uncrossing them and slamming her knees together, hands in between them. 'It’s just not normal. I mean, it’s not. Kitty basically
hunted you down
. She had a plan, with accomplices and-.' She shook her head.

Despite the fact that Amy had told Lucy the whole story - twice - her mind was unwrapping each piece at a slow pace, like a child savouring their Halloween haul. Every few minutes her eyes would widen as she would devour another morsel of information. 'I mean, getting Andrea involved. It’s pretty extreme.'

'Extreme? It’s insane! What I don’t understand though is how she knew it was me at Drakers. About my role in the deal. I was a trainee. They had never even met me.'

Lucy rolled her eyes. 'People like that have their ways. Someone at the firm chucked you under the limo.'

Amy felt herself nod in understanding. It wasn’t hard to believe. The firm would have assured Kitty that the person responsible had been duly punished. They would want her to know that it had been dealt with. Removed. She put her head in her hands. If she had been honest with herself, she could have come up with this answer. But she hadn’t wanted to think of it. She didn’t want to imagine people gossiping behind her back. She didn’t want to think of somebody talking about her in hushed, horrified tones. But of course they had.

'Are you going to tell Harry?' This question was the one Amy couldn’t answer.

'I don’t know. What if he doesn’t believe me? Then I’ll just look mad.'

'But can you really pretend nothing has happened? Just smile at your monster-in-law and make nice? I’m not sure I could do that.'

They sat in silence and Amy gave her friend a pleading look.

'We’ll keep thinking,' Lucy suggested by way of appeasement. 'Are we still on for tomorrow by the way?'

Amy looked at her blankly.

'Shopping? I need that outfit for my friend Jess’s wedding. You said you’d be my mirror. But I understand if you’re not in the mood.' Amy considered agreeing and staying home, but Lucy had been such a good friend and maybe shopping would help her clear her head.

'Sure, why not?'

Lucy walked Amy back to her house where they hugged tightly before Lucy left in her Mini Cooper. Amy ate dinner early and went to bed at eight, preferring not to have to talk to Harry yet. She was actually hoping she could avoid him until she had decided what to do, but when she awoke the next morning, she was surprised to find him still at home.

'10am meeting in Watford or some other hole. Driver’s picking me up here,' he explained.

Amy eyed him over her bowl of cornflakes. He was quietly eating and scrolling through his iPad on the
BBC News
app. She watched him chewing and reading. He didn’t even notice she was there.

'Anything interesting?' she prompted.

'Oh just the bloody debt crisis.' He smiled up for a second. 'Greeks making a hash of their economy.'

When Harry left, Amy went around clearing up the breakfast and the house.

She looked at her phone. It had a message on it.

'See you tonight xx'

The number on it wasn’t programmed into the phone, but Amy recognised it immediately as Lucy’s. Very odd. They were meeting in fifteen minutes. She programmed the number in, wondering if she had accidentally deleted it. Strange things were always happening with her phone. It probably didn’t help that she was constantly dropping it. Nor that she let Julia’s kids mess about with it.

A few minutes later, Lucy arrived and, getting into Amy’s car, they drove to the West London shopping haven of Westbourne Grove, with its picturesque square of boutiques.

The serene setting and the rare glimpse of sun gave the day a calm, positive quality and, in Joseph, Amy and Lucy giggled as they piled their arms high with soft, supple fabrics.

'Yeah, this is definitely not for me,' Amy groaned, her stomach and legs encased in the tight grip of a pair of leather trousers Lucy had begged her to try on.

'Suck it up, woman. You'll look hot in 'em. It's worth it.'

Conveniently, Amy's phone trilled into life just as she was trying to extricate herself from her leather prison and she practically fell out of the changing room trying to answer it. When she did, it was Harry.

'You have my phone.' She could tell he was walking briskly, probably just out of his meeting. 'Must have swapped this morning. Doesn’t matter; just forward anyone on to me at the office.'

'Oh, ok,' she replied and they said goodbye. When Amy hung up, she stared at the phone. She went back to the text she had received earlier. Now that she looked, it was the only text the phone had from the number she had thought was Lucy’s. Just to check, she rang the number.

In the next cubicle, Lucy’s ringtone sounded.

'Hello?' The answer was a whisper. 'I can’t talk right now,' Lucy’s hushed voice sounded through the earpiece.

Amy continued to stare at the device in her hand. Then, as if on autopilot she hung it up, changed back into her clothes and stepped out of the changing room. Lucy came out of the cubicle moments later, babbling about her choices, but stopped when she saw Amy’s face.

'What’s the matter?'

'We didn’t have plans for tonight.' Amy said robotically, looking unseeingly ahead. 'The text said you would see me tonight, but we didn’t have plans tonight.'

'What?'

Amy raised her trembling hand, holding up the iPhone. 'I have Harry’s phone.'

For once, Amy’s mind was working fast enough to process the evidence in front of her, but it took a good few seconds for realisation to dawn on Lucy’s face. When it finally did it was mixed with something like horror and pity.

'Oh Aims,' she said, reaching her arm out towards her shoulder.

'Don’t touch me.' Amy stepped back instinctively. Another silence fell over them. Amy didn’t look at Lucy when she next spoke. 'Why were you texting Harry?' She knew the answer. It was obvious. But she had to hear it.

'It’s nothing. He just needed someone to talk to.' Lucy’s voice was overflowing with disgusting, infuriating sympathy. Amy felt infected by it, like it was crawling over her skin.

She covered her face with her hands as though she could hide from it. 'And that someone is you.'

Amy heard what sounded like a guffaw and, when she finally looked up, saw Lucy shaking her head in what looked like disgust. The reaction made absolutely no sense to her.

'What?'

Lucy's head stopped its shaking and her eyes focused levelly on Amy's. 'Aims, I wouldn’t go about acting all high and mighty. Or have you forgotten your rampant flirting with Freddie of late?'

Propelled forward by instinct, Amy stepped towards Lucy, causing her to step back. 'So you thought you’d take the opportunity to steal my husband. Of course.' Amy laughed semi-hysterically. She knew she must sound mad, but she didn't care.

'That’s not what-'

'What the hell is the matter with you? You’re supposed to be my friend.' Amy could hear her voice get louder. A saleswoman approached, perhaps thinking of asking them if they wanted any different sizes, but sharply pivoted and scuttled away, obviously having changed her mind.

'Yes, that’s what I have always been isn’t it? Amy’s friend. More specifically, Amy’s
fat
friend. I am so sick of being your sidekick. Do you know what it’s like to be invisible? Absolutely invisible? You and Georgie had fun and stories and guys. I sat for years listening to your love saga with Freddie.' Her voice was louder than Amy had ever heard it, her tone high pitched, angry, bloated with righteous malice. Her eyes were slits, like angry gashes on her face. 'And all I wanted was one of my own. Do you remember where you met Harry, Amy?' She didn’t wait for Amy to answer.

'You met at
my
birthday party. He was meant for
me
. Our families had agreed everything and that night was the first step. He was going to be mine. I was so happy. How the hell did
you
end up with him?' She threw her hands up. 'But then of course he chose you instead.' She was laughing now, a cold, sharp laugh that made Amy shiver. 'Beautiful, tiny you with your hair and your boobs. With your butter-wouldn’t-melt girl-next-door face. You get the fairy tale ending. Only that’s not enough for you, is it? For some reason, you’re not happy with the handsome, successful husband. You want Freddie too. So, why don’t you just go back to Freddie and leave Harry alone?' The fire left her as quickly as it had ignited. She looked deflated. 'Let me have some happiness.'

Amy had no idea what to say. All this time. She had to sit down. Right that second. She ended up on the floor, legs crumpling beneath her. She tried to think back to that night. All she had been thinking of then were her own problems. Her own issues. She had been so low after her disastrous work crises that she didn’t even think of her friend.

'I don’t understand. What do you mean he was meant for you?' It was ludicrous. Completely incomprehensible.

'Harry’s dad and my dad had decided it years ago. That we would marry. I’d only found out about a week before my party and that’s why he was there. I know his mum wanted it too. The thing was, I’d always liked him. And here was my chance. I just-,' she trailed off.

'Why didn’t you tell me?' was all Amy could say. Tears were streaming down both of their faces by now and Amy was finding it harder to get her words out. 'I wouldn’t have gone near him if I’d known.'

'What and be your poor fat friend?' Lucy’s eyes flashed. 'I didn’t want your pity. But I do have to thank you for one thing. I realised after that night that I didn’t want to be that fat invisible girl anymore.'

'That’s when you lost the weight,' Amy murmured, suddenly realising the correlation. Then, as if coming out of a dream, she looked at Lucy and stood up. 'But you’re one of my best friends. How could you do this? I would never-' she broke off, unable to continue, feeling tears choke her.

They were both silent. A shift had taken place. A change in their relationship that couldn’t be fixed with a night in or ice cream or a good chat.

'How long?' Amy’s voice trembled under the strain of holding the tears at bay; of not letting them take over completely. She wiped her nose with her sleeve. 

'You don’t-'

'How long?' This time more insistent.

'A few months.'

'Months?' It was a whisper.

All those late nights, the times he’d had to go to the office at the weekends. It was too much to take in. Such a cliché.

'I just-' Amy tried to put her feelings into some sort of order. 'I don’t even know you. I never knew you were capable of this. I-' She shook her head and looked around as if only now realising they were having this conversation in a changing room. She was exhausted. She couldn’t think any more. She didn’t want to be having this discussion. 'I have to go.' She couldn’t bear to look at Lucy, to be in her presence for a second longer. She could barely hear Lucy calling after her as she got to her feet and fled. 

Chapter 17

Oomph

Amy felt the air being pushed out of her lungs as she awoke to find tiny hands pawing at her face in what must have been the cutest assault she could have imagined. Her niece, Jenny had jumped directly on her side while Flynn was poking her lovingly in the face, making little sounds of exploration as he went.  

'Morning lazy bones,' Julia said as she walked past, Izzy in her arms.

'What time is it?' Amy croaked, sitting up and grabbing both kids in an embrace. They giggled happily.

'7am,' Julia said mildly. 'There’s a coffee for you in the kitchen.'

Amy switched on the TV as she had done every morning that week and relented to the kids’ requests for
CBeebies
. They all sat watching
Charlie and Lola
while Julia bustled around.

Amy had no idea how Julia was so wide awake and chipper. Over the course of the week that she had stayed there, she had watched her sister running from play date to nursery, school to shopping and around the house with an energy that belied belief. She had heard the kids waking at all hours of the night wanting water or to go to the toilet or just wanting a hug and her sister and husband had done it all with humour and grace. She felt a distinct sense of envy at their togetherness.  

That first night Julia had stayed up almost as late as she had, although admittedly Amy had had a few more glasses of wine than her sister. She had listened and consoled Amy as she had told her everything that had happened. Harry had tried to call, but Amy had sent all calls to voicemail, messaging him to tell him to leave her alone. He had finally stopped trying at about 1am, by which time Amy was more than a little drunk. She had eventually collapsed on the sofa bed at two, with Julia rubbing her back and talking soothingly at her.

'What are your plans today?' Julia asked, evoking a chorus of complaints as she stood with crossed arms between the TV and its captive audience.

'Seriously?' Amy had no plans. What plans could she possibly have? She had no job, no home to go to.

'Well, are you planning on settling for life on my sofa? Because I will start charging rent at some point, even for you, little sis.' Her face softened. 'Can I make some suggestions?'

'Mummy I can’t see
Charlie and Lola
, you are too giant,' Flynn complained, telling his mummy off as only a three year-old could.

Julia motioned for Amy to get up and follow her to the kitchen, which Amy did with a small roll of her eyes. She was, quite quickly, regressing to teenager-hood under her sister’s roof.

'I know you’ve seen the stuff that arrived yesterday,' Julia said sternly. Julia was referring to the boxes and suitcases that had been delivered by taxi the day before. In truth it was hard to miss. It was taking up most of the children’s den and threatening to topple over.

'I think you should start sorting through it and decide where you’re going to live. Can I suggest mum and dad’s place? You’ll actually have a room there. '

Amy thought about telling her parents about the split. How would they take it? Divorce wasn’t even in their vocabulary. Her mum had always been so no-nonsense, she had always seemed to find a way to make everything work. And
was
Amy getting a divorce? Of course she would. Could she? It seemed so final that even the events of the past week weren’t enough to make her certain.

The night after she had left, Harry had rung her sister’s doorbell and Mark had answered.

'Honestly mate,' she had heard Harry say confidentially to him. 'It was nothing. She’s overreacting. You know how women can be.' He sounded so ridiculous, so pompous and so synthetic trying to talk on Mark’s level, like one of the guys.

'Listen, Harry,' her brother-in-law said pointedly, obviously trying to keep his cool. 'This is between you and Amy, but I don’t think she sees it that way. Maybe give her some time.'

'I just need to talk to her,' Harry had sounded a bit more desperate. 'Amy?' he had called. 'Come on Aims, at least talk to me.'

She and Julia had been sitting in the kitchen listening and Julia had looked at her as if to say, 'Well?'

Amy had shaken her head in exasperation and stood up, going to the front door. 'It’s ok, Mark.' He had looked at her for a second, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving Harry one last reproachful glance before going inside.

She stood at the front door, arms crossed, feeling like a character out of
Eastenders
or some other similarly desperately unsubtle soap.

'Come on Amy, let’s go home. This is silly.' He was gesturing his arm as if to beckon her out.

Amy was more than a little surprised by this tack. She had expected him to grovel, apologize. His words almost made her think she had imagined the whole thing. He seemed to take her silence for acquiescence and walked towards her putting his hands on her shoulders.

'Aims, let’s not ruin a happy marriage over one little indiscretion.' He kissed her forehead. She felt completely numb. Her arms were like anchors on either side of her body.

It would be so easy to go back to him. So easy to ignore this 'indiscretion', to return to her day-to-day and just carry on pretending. But wasn’t that exactly what she had been doing for the past two years?

How had she let this happen? How had she tied herself to a man like this? A man who she didn’t love. Who she struggled to even respect.

'It’s over,' she said simply. She was trying to stay in control. She didn’t want to cry, to give him that power. She just wanted him to leave. She also knew that she wasn’t blameless. Hadn’t she kissed Freddie? Did that mean she had lost her right to a wife’s indignation?

Harry stepped back, now looking slightly dismayed, but still supremely confident. 'Amy I’m not sure what she told you, but honestly, it was nothing.'

It was the first time he had mentioned Lucy, even though not by name. It made her shudder. Amy tried to ignore it. She wanted to focus on what was really important. 'Harry, are you even happy with me?' She forced herself to look him in the eye.

'What on earth are you talking about?' He looked genuinely confused and exasperated all at once.

'We barely talk, we hardly ever laugh together.' She stopped as she felt her voice get higher and then said more gently, pleadingly, 'We made a mistake.'

'This is nonsense. What are you even suggesting?' To her surprise, he still seemed bewildered. 'It’s not ideal, I know, but there are ways to make these things work.'

'Oh for goodness sakes Harry, do you hear yourself?' She was getting angry now, but was conscious that her nieces and nephews were asleep so refrained from shouting. Instead she adopted a furious hissing whisper. 'You’ve been sleeping with my friend. My
best
friend. I hardly call that nonsense.' She was practically spitting at this point. To her dismay, a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

'You’re being a complete drama queen about this Aims,' Harry said, sighing. She could tell he was only just refraining himself from rolling his eyes.

'Why didn’t you just marry
her
?'  Harry froze and Amy realised she had to keep talking. She was finally getting through. 'You were supposed to, weren’t you? She told me your parents wanted you to marry. We met at
her
birthday party for goodness sake.' He wouldn’t look her in the eye. Triumph ran through her as she finally hit a nerve and she kept going, pushing her advantage. 'You chased me. You made me feel like you wanted me. Then when you had me-' She couldn’t finish the sentence. Was it that he hadn’t wanted her anymore? Or had he realised he had never wanted her in the first place? Or was this just him? Was he incapable of loving anyone? 'What was I to you?' she finished, exhausted.

'This is stupid.' He ran his hands through his hair. 'Yes, mummy wanted me to marry her, said it was father’s dying wish and made me go to her birthday bash as some kind of set up.' He shook his head looking far off as if remembering. 'Well, of course I was furious, I mean, why me? James gets to marry some gorgeous blond bombshell with some random German title and I got Miss Piggy? I was so angry at her. At him.' He kicked a pebble and it clattered off the path.

'So what was I? Revenge?' Amy remembered how often he had told her how different she was to any other girl he’d met. Any other girl in his world. 

He stiffened. 'Don’t act so sanctimonious. You were dying for someone to take you away from your life. You were lucky I came along when I did.'

They were both silent. Tears started streaming down Amy’s face unchecked. Fat, slow tears which tasted salty as they reached her mouth.

'I think you should go.'

'Amy, how is this going to look?' There was a piteous desperation in his voice. Deep down, they both knew that this was his greatest fear. That shattering the illusion of his perfect life was his biggest nightmare. He didn’t even need to say it, really. The truth was, she felt it too. She knew that divorce would be like a permanent mark on her record. A failure on her life CV that she would be required to disclose at vital moments. If she was lucky, it would be nothing more than a silent awkwardness when she next saw friends and acquaintances. The word would spread and she wouldn't actually need to tell anyone. But of course there would be those who didn't know. The ones who would innocently ask after Harry, expecting a bland response, only to be faced with the uncomfortable truth. She would never escape it.

'It'll be bad. But that's not a good enough reason not to do it.'

Amy had thought she saw the anger leave Harry, but it took hold of him again.

'Fine.' Harry kicked out, taking his fury out on a pebble. He turned to walk away then seemed to change his mind. 'But Amy, you think about this. Do you really want to turn your life – our life – upside down? What the hell will you do? Do you even have a plan? Are you going to go back to your parents for the rest of your life?'

And with that parting shot ringing in her ears he had marched off to his car. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since, until now. The arrival of her things was Harry’s way of saying he understood. That he knew she was right. And that it was over.

Once Julia and the kids had left, Amy went to the den and looked at the giant pile of boxes. She picked up a box from the top and carried it to the kitchen table where she opening it carefully. Inside she found a series of old journals. Diaries she used to keep. She had forgotten that she used to do this. She had kept a diary for years in her teens. A way to let out her angst and to practice her writing.

Then she looked through old newspaper cuttings from her university newspaper,
Redbrick
, running her fingers along her name in the columns and remembering the pride she used to feel at seeing that.

She thought about how she had stopped writing. Writing had once been her sanctuary. Her escape. Why had she turned her back on it? So what if it was difficult to get a job in journalism? That didn’t mean she should give up doing what she loved.

And with that, she made a plan for the day. Instead of taking her usual place on the sofa in front of the TV, she took her laptop with her to a small local coffee shop with plush sofas. There, over a latte and a muffin she began to write. It was difficult at first. It was like turning the wheels of a machine that had long ago rusted over. But soon she was tapping away, enjoying the rhythm, the sensation.

She was about to order her second coffee, rifling through her bag to find her purse, when she noticed a message on her phone.

'Can we talk?'

Her heart lifted as she saw Freddie’s name identified as its author. She looked at the words for the longest time, lost in thought. She was so happy to hear from him, so sad things had ended the way they did. She considered saying no. Thought about waiting a bit before replying. And yet the time for games was over. She was sick of it. She just needed to see him. She told him which café she was in and the reply was instantaneous.

'Give me half an hour'

Almost exactly thirty minutes later she spotted him outside the window of the cafe. She was still seated with a hot drink, laptop out. It was so good to see him; just the sight of his lazy walk lifted her. She stood, debating between a peck on the cheek and a handshake as he approached, but he pulled her in for a bear hug. 

'I heard,' he said into her hair.

What had he heard? About the disaster with the charity? About her and Harry? About what Kitty had done? It didn’t seem to matter. Tears started filling her eyes and she held onto him for what felt like a lifetime before they pulled apart. He used his finger tips to wipe her cheeks.

'Are you ok?' She nodded, smiling wanly.

There was a silence before they both spoke at the same time.

'I’m so sorry-'

'I feel terrible-'

They laughed. It was all so awkward. So much had happened and yet so little.

'Where are you living?' he asked.

'At my sister’s.' It came out as a groan and they both smiled at each other. 'Yes, I really am a catch. Unemployed. About to get divorced. And, oh, did I mention the national press coverage?' She was trying to be funny, but the crack in her voice broke the spell.