Trophy Life (7 page)

'I’m very pleased to say that we have a new member joining our committee, my own daughter-in-law, Amy Green.' Andrea's gesture towards Amy was less introductory and more accusatory, like a participant in the 17th century witch trial. All eyes slowly migrated to her. 'Amy has been married to Harry for two years now.' Andrea’s hand remained in the air in Amy’s direction and her tone implied that there was more, but then she stopped. Amy waited. Everyone else seemed to be waiting too. Was that it? Was that the end of Andrea’s introduction of Amy? All she could think to say about her? What about the fact that she was a qualified lawyer? What about her university education? Maybe even that she enjoyed reading? Perhaps just a mention of her fully functioning pulmonary system? But instead there was nothing. Just an uncomfortable silence eventual broken by a short, if not particularly committed burst of clapping before Andrea’s hand fell abruptly.

'Next, we have our annual fundraiser. We are raising money for a very worthwhile cause.' Andrea looked over at Esther who proffered a sheet of paper. Referring to it, Andrea read, 'The Children’s Fund.'

Olivia gushed, 'I have so many ideas.'

'That’s lovely Olivia and you did such a fine job at Christmas,' interrupted Andrea soothingly. 'Didn’t she ladies?' A light, respectful applause rippled through the crowd. 'But we must give someone else a turn.' Her tone was resolute. Final. 'Amy was just telling me how much she would love to organise this event and she has lots of experience in putting this kind of thing together.'

Once again, all focus in the room shifted to Amy. Unprepared, Amy let out the tiniest squeak, which then turned into a cough. What did this mean? Is this what Andrea had had in mind? She knew she had wanted her involved in organising the event, but did she actually expect her to run it? Surely not.

Unsure as to what to do, Amy smiled around the room nervously. Her eyes came to rest on Olivia, whose own smile was very firmly tattooed on her face. She reminded Amy of a burst balloon.

'I have every confidence that Amy will do a marvellous job,' continued Andrea. Like the dutiful right-hand woman she was, Esther now whispered in Andrea’s ear and Andrea gestured for her to address the room.

Esther’s face, plump and red, looked like an over-ripe tomato as she eagerly gushed, 'We have something very exciting now. Guillermo Hullier’s catering company, Guillermo Guillermo has agreed to cater our event.' She paused to allow for the buzz which flowed through the room. 'They’ve sent over someone to meet us all.' She gestured wildly to the back of the room for someone to come forward, her face becoming even more flushed as she waved her arm erratically.

Amy’s mind was firmly engrossed in processing the events of the past few minutes, locked in her own thoughts. She couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. She was supposed to plan this event? She had no experience in organising so much as a toddler’s birthday party. Had Andrea been confused? She looked at her mother-in-law, trying to gauge a reaction from her, but she was busy looking elsewhere. Actually, all of the women had turned to look elsewhere. Amy followed their gaze.

'Thank you Esther,' said a deep voice. A familiar voice. Amy would know that voice anywhere. And immediately, looking up at the stage, their eyes met. 'It’s great to be here. My name is Freddie O'Connor and I’ll be helping to cater your event.'

Chapter 6

Typing the last word with a flourish, Amy surveyed the screen in front of her with satisfaction. She couldn’t help but be proud of her latest article, an in-depth piece about relations between students and locals, looking at the positives and negatives of the relationship.

'Are you ready to go?' Georgie called out to her as she popped her head round the door of the office of
Redbrick
, the university newspaper, the rest of her following in thereafter. With her skintight jeans and low cut top, it was hard not to admire Georgie’s slim frame and ample breasts, an asset she had on more than one occasion declared to be 'my breast assets', to many a groan from her friends.

'Almost,' Amy replied absent-mindedly as she noticed and corrected a split infinitive in the second paragraph, something their current editor, Laura, described as her ‘pet peeve’.

'You hardly ever leave this place,' Georgie mused as Amy packed up. 'Though I’m sure it will pay off. I heard Nathan say that you’re a shoo-in for editor next year.'

'Oh, I’m sure that’s not right,' Amy dismissed, grabbing her bag. 'There are loads of people who would be better than me.'

'Don’t do that,' her friend replied almost sharply. 'You’re always putting yourself down and you shouldn’t. You’re a brilliant writer, a great features editor and you work harder than almost anyone else on this rag. Except me of course.' Amy threw Georgie a sideways smile at this, an acknowledgement of her joke. Laura was always telling off Georgie for her lackadaisical approach to the paper.

Secretly, almost so secretly that she probably didn’t even know it herself, Amy did hope, did have a small part of her that thought she might just stand a chance. It was so small it was barely noticeable, but it was there. A little ember of optimism.

'You know, there is more to student life than
Redbrick
,' Georgie continued. 'There’s drinking and going out and having fun even if you can’t remember it the next day,' she listed, bumping Amy’s shoulder with hers and almost knocking her over in the movement. 'Actually especially if you can’t remember it the next day.'

'I just haven’t been in the mood for clubbing lately, that’s all.' 

'Look,' Georgie began more gently. 'I know it’s been tough. You know, since Will and everything. But all the more reason to come out with us tonight and drown those sorrows.'

Amy thought about this. She had been sad when she and Will had broken up. It had felt like saying goodbye to a friend. A best friend even. She had struggled as she always did with the concept of change and goodbyes. But in truth it had also felt right. They had spent so little time together, had been so absent from each other’s lives, that they had lost the intimacy, the unspoken knowledge that they had always shared. He was busy with his studies and she with the paper and her new life at uni. As much as she hated to admit it, it was true what they said about long-distance relationships not working. 

And then there was Freddie. She had tried to deny it, tried to ignore the spark between them, but she couldn’t any more. Freddie was part of her everyday life and group of friends, a constant and fun presence in her world. They had never gotten out of the habit of meeting up for films and TV shows in the common room, turning it into their own personal routine, complete with rituals like not starting to eat any food until the first word was said in a film and remaining sitting until the last credit rolled. Now that she and Will weren’t together any more, she hoped that they might explore being something more. She was actually quite excited to tell him.

'Can’t we just go for dinner or something?' Amy asked hesitantly. 'There’s a new pizza place in Harborne.'

'No we cannot go for dinner, grandma. It is vital and urgent that we get you drunk. I’m not taking no for an answer, consider yourself out tonight. I’m calling Lucy. The boys can do what they like; it’s a girl’s night.'

And with that she was on the phone, chattering animatedly and apparently debating between the main student Wednesday haunt, Bobby Brown’s, and Miss Moneypenny, a more alternative club a bit further out.

The final choice had been Bobby’s, where they found themselves queuing in the freezing cold later that night. By the time they were inside, events were clearly in full swing. Students bodies were overwhelming the space with its nooks and crannies, dancing on platforms, converging on the bar and being stirred into a frenzy on the dancefloor.

'It’s drink o’clock,' declared Georgie, striding to the bar and thrusting her breasts forward to catch the bartender’s attention, a strategy that worked as Amy soon found a shot and a vodka and Red Bull thrust into each of her hands.

'Drink, dance, forget,' Georgie said with a wink, holding up her own shot glass and staring into Amy’s eyes before emptying the contents into her mouth with a flourish.

'Yeah, that’s healthy,' snorted Lucy, gripping her modest alcopop.

'The girl has just left a long-term relationship; she needs alcohol, a rebound guy and a fantastic night she won’t remember to make her forget all about it.' Somehow, Georgie was managing to talk, swig from her other drink and smile lasciviously at a guy across the room. Hooray for multitasking.

'Do you actually hear yourself speak?' Lucy asked dryly.

'Where are the boys tonight?' asked Amy, referring to the other three members of their usual group. Over their time at university they had developed a little gang together with Freddie, Scott and Freddie’s roommate, Steven, the Manchunian she had heard that first day.

'Who knows,' Georgie said unconcerned, still making eyes at her intended target.  

'Oh look, it’s Scott,' Lucy waved enthusiastically as she said this. 'Yoo-hoo! Scott!' Looking in the general direction of Lucy’s energies, the girls spotted Scott swigging from a Corona and clearly trying to chat up a diminutive brunette. Upon seeing Lucy he smiled and waved back but continued in his attempts.

Amy didn’t know she was doing it, but realised she had been scanning the room as soon as her eye fell on its mark. She saw Freddie laughing and joking behind a group of friends, presumably talking to Steven.

'Oh look,' she said casually, 'the other guys are there.' But as she said this, the group in front of Freddie dispersed and she saw his companion wasn’t Steven. It wasn’t even close. Instead of Steven’s small bulky frame she was looking at a bare, tanned back with long, black hair cascading down it. Amy felt the smile leave her face.

'Who’s that?' she asked before she could stop herself.

Lucy squinted and stood close to Amy. 'Oh yes, that’s Francesca something. She’s in his class. Had her eye on him for ages. Looks like she might finally be bagging her prize.'

Amy could feel her heart plummet to her shoes, but tried not to let it show. Lucy wasn’t fooled though.

'Whatever it is, it won’t last. She’s dull as dishwater. Actually she gives dishwater a bad name. She’s just boring.'

'Oh Fran’s actually lov-' Georgie started before Lucy rammed her in the ribs and shook her head at her emphatically. Taking just a moment too long to realise her error, she finally corrected herself. 'Dull, dull, dull. I’m not sure I’ve ever stayed awake while talking to her,' she said hurriedly. Amy smiled at her friends gratefully.

She looked at Freddie as his hand came to rest on Francesca’s slim, tanned arm. He seemed to be telling a hilarious anecdote because seconds later she exploded into laughter, her head tilting back.

Before she could change her mind, Amy tilted her own head back and downed her shot, gasping as she felt it burn the back of her throat. She then turned and did the same with her other drink.

'Easy girl!' Lucy said while Georgie looked on approvingly.

'You’ll need two more then?' Georgie asked. Amy nodded, rendered momentarily speechless.

The rest of the night, as they say, was a blur. Amy could remember dancing, then more dancing, then getting up on the podiums and dancing before falling off rather unceremoniously, luckily caught by Scott. Or Steven. Or was it Scott?

As she lay in bed the next morning still in her outfit from the night before there was only one thing that was clear in her mind. Worse for wear towards the end of the night she had bumped into Freddie, who had smilingly put his arm through hers to hold her up.

'What are you celebrating then?' he twinkled. 'I saw you at the beginning of the night then you disappeared. Did I see you on that podium?'

Amy had searched his face, looking for any sign that he felt for her what she had started to realise she felt for him. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Just his usual, mischievous grin. She wanted to tell him that she and Will had broken up; that she hoped this meant they might start to explore more than a friendship. That their connection was something special.

Instead, she felt herself on the verge of retching.

'Whoa there, Aims. I think we’d better get you home,' he had intoned gently. He locked his arm tighter through hers and started walking her to the door. Unable to resist and enjoying being in such close proximity to Freddie, Amy allowed him to lead her along.

'Hold on,' he said, 'I just have to say bye.'

Carefully, he sat her on a sofa and she watched as he approached Francesca, who didn’t look anywhere near drunk. She looked perky, Amy thought resentfully, her head lolling slightly.

'Come on you,' he said, heaving her up and outside, where he somehow found and hailed a cab.

Back at Amy’s room, he found her key in her bag, turning it in the lock and helping her inside.

'Ok, lie on your side, in case you’re sick,' he instructed.

'You’re very good,' she slurred.

'I’ve had some practice,' he quipped. 'Only it’s usually one of my guy mates and they’re a bit heavier than you.'

Amidst everything, Amy was momentarily distracted from her battle not to vomit with the thought, ‘he just called me slim’. Ridiculous.

'But I’ve never seen you like this,' he said. 'You were really knocking them back tonight, weren’t you?'

By this point Amy was reduced to just vague mumblings. She was on the verge of unconsciousness. So she wasn’t sure, the next day, whethershe had said to him those final words. She hoped not. She hoped that her memory of saying, 'I love you,' to Freddie was just her drunk mind playing tricks on her.

Her head was pounding when she woke up in the darkened room, feeling disorientated, mouth stiff with the dribble dried around it. She tried to roll over to see the time, but overshot the bed, creating a loud thud as she fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes. There she found her phone with several missed calls as well as a message from Freddie asking her to text to say she was ok. One message, from Georgie, told her not to be too worried about that photographer from the paper as 'they probably won’t use those shots.' Meanwhile, Lucy’s messages were more to the point, asking her if she was awake, then saying she was outside knocking and to wake up. Then there was a text saying to meet her after class in the common room when she woke.

'Merrrrrrrr,' she groaned, her voice not sounding anything like her own. Sitting up, she noticed the time on her alarm clock. 9:10am. She only had 20 minutes to get to her lecture across campus. Stumbling to her feet, she started to dress frantically, falling over several times in her bid to jump into the first clothes she found and brushing her teeth as she located her shoes.

She couldn’t remember the journey to the law building, but was sure it had been a less than steady one. She still felt a bit woozy as she creaked open the large entrance door so it was with the overly careful steps of somebody trying hard not to look like they’re still drunk that she tottered into the large hall 32 minutes later, smiling her apologies as she went.

After stepping on quite a few toes and shout whispering a few rounds of 'sorry', she finally sat by Lucy. Dressed in baggy jeans and an even baggier jumper, her solid frame looked even bigger than it was in reality. Her blond hair was tied in a frizzy ponytail and her face was make-up free, showing off her surprisingly clear, creamy complexion. She obviously wasn’t hungover. Instead she was sitting upright in her seat, a selection of coloured pens in a row in front of her.

'I tried to wake you,' Lucy whispered. 'You ok?'

Amy nodded slowly. She couldn’t really focus on the issues of constitutional law being explained and was very much in danger of falling asleep right there in row six.

'I overslept,' she whispered. Or at least she thought she had whispered, but she must have been louder than she had intended because her uttering caused several people to turn around to shush her. She shrunk into her seat.

'Oh my gosh, are you still drunk?' Lucy yell whispered.

Amy considered this. Given that she could barely remember the night before, it was very possible there was at least some alcohol still sloshing around in her system. She shrugged at Lucy who rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

Getting through the rest of the lecture was torture. All Amy wanted to do was lie back flat. Instead she slumped forward, a pen dangling uselessly in her hand.

Afterwards, Amy decided it was best to head back to the safety of her room. There, she collapsed onto her bed and pulled her pillow over her head, ready to indulge in some recuperative sleep when she heard a knock.