When Good Friends Go Bad (39 page)

But then love was such a powerful emotion. Made vicars run off with their congregations – or members of them, anyway – doctors get struck off after years of hard study, caused long-held marriages to be cast aside like yesterday's newspapers, doting fathers to lose their kids, all in the name of that four-letter word. When it struck it was a power virtually impossible to harness. And sometimes it made people do idiotic irrational things as it crashed over them, knocking every obstacle in its path out of the way. She knew she was gawping at Dugan while she was thinking this, but she also knew that he didn't realise because he was staring into the darkness, trying to focus on Rowan.

Suddenly Rowan stepped forward and allowed her eyes to meet his. Just as she did so, there was a sparking sound and the lights came back on. It was the perfect dramatic moment. Jen saw Dugan jerk as he took in the shock of his ex-wife's appearance. No wonder Rowan hadn't bothered with prettying herself up for the last decade. Who on earth would want to be a raving beauty if it attracted madness like this? Worse than being a superstar and having paparazzi chase you down the street. They'd all been a little bit in love with Rowan. And where had it ever got her?

'What have they done to you?' he whispered.

'They've
done nothing. It's what
you've
done. I've had enough of your weasel words and crocodile tears, so you can stop that now,' Rowan rasped. She turned to her old classmates. 'He can switch them on and off like a tap. They don't mean anything, and they don't do anything for me. Not any more.' She stared stony-faced at the man before her, hands planted on her ample hips. 'You've wasted twenty-two years of my life, turned it into an arid desert, full of fear and paranoia. I've nothing but contempt for you. And for myself.' She shook her head, sending her straggly hair falling about her pudgy cheeks.

Dugan shrugged and immediately the tears dried. 'I promise it's the end,' he said, defeated, his eyes scanning her up and down, left and right. 'You look . . . you look . . . I never meant it to be this way.'

Georgina hesitated a moment, then spoke. 'Well, we'll have to trust him now. What else are we to do? I think Rowan's strong enough to show him the door if he comes knocking again. Besides we can't keep him here for ever. Come on, let him loose.' She stood back while Rowan and Meg untied him.

'Now beat it!' Georgina raised one fist high into the air as he wriggled free and the clothes line dropped to the floor.

'And never darken Rowan's doorstep again!' Meg sneered theatrically before adding, 'Or you'll have
all
of us to deal with.'

He headed quickly down the stairs, feet hardly touching wood, followed by the women.

'Tom. Wait!' Jen called out after him as he opened the door.

He stopped and turned. 'What? What is it?'

'Were you ever in Quebec?'

'Er, no?' he said nervously.

'Launching timber on the deck, where ya break a bleeding neck riding on a donkey.' She couldn't help it. It just tumbled off her tongue.

As Dugan's Toyota rattled away the jubilation was noisy and intense. The four women grabbed at each other, hollering and jumping in a group hug as Ollie burst through from the kitchen laughing, with Feo in hot pursuit.

'You ladies are terrifying,' he said. 'I'd have run for cover too.' His blue eyes, veiled by long sooty eyelashes, met Jen's. 'You were right. You didn't need me.'

'I wouldn't say that,' she muttered, cheeks scorching. She bent down, nuzzling into Feo's neck as an absurd shyness swept over her.

'I definitely wouldn't either.' Meg linked her arm through Ollie's. 'Hey, let's go drink to our victory. Coming, Ollie?'

Ollie was still observing Jen. She didn't know what to make of his expression. It was clear as her bright red ears he'd overheard Dugan mention their one-night stand. Was he disgusted? Furious? Or had the knowledge just confirmed what a massive mistake he'd made in his marriage and how lucky his timely escape was, almost as fortunate as Rowan's?

With diplomatic ease Ollie extricated his sleeve from Meg's grasp, found his jacket and pulled out his car keys. 'I can't stick around.' He looked from one to the other of them, each of Jen's three friends melting under his gaze. 'I've got to get home, rescue poor Chloe from her "Auntie" Helen's tender care. Anyway the four of you have a lot of catching up to do, I'm sure.'

Meg handed him his penknife, closed the door behind him and then giggled as she leaned her back against it.

'That was the stud boy?' she marvelled. 'You said he was hot but, oh boy.' She blew on her bent fingers and waved them up and down as if they'd been scorched. 'How could you let that babe get away?'

'Just like the Lone Ranger,' Georgina sighed. 'Coming to the rescue and then galloping away.'

'Yes, but who was he?' Rowan looked baffled. 'What's a stud boy? And who's Chloe?'

'You've been living in Wales too long. Chloe's my daughter.' Jen sat down suddenly on the sofa again. 'And that was my ex.'

'Oh.' Rowan sat beside her, the sofa sagging under her weight. 'Funny. All these years I always imagined you married to that boyfriend of yours – what was his name – Sparkey or . . . ?'

Jen caught Georgina's eye as Meg said, 'Starkey. Yeah, that is funny, isn't it?' and perched herself on the other side of Rowan.

'No,' said Georgina, '
I
made that particular mistake,' and sat down on the hearth in her now rather crumpled suit. 'Can you imagine Aiden rushing all this way to rescue me? I don't think so.'

'Oh I'm sure he would,' Jen said loyally. Though whether she was being loyal to her ex-boyfriend or reassuring Georgina she wasn't sure.

'Doubt it.' Georgina looked quite miserable. 'He doesn't feel that way about me and I'm not sure I still feel that way about him. Sometimes I think he's never going to grow up. He's like the apple tree at the bottom of the garden that I overpruned one year and I've been waiting each summer for the apples to appear and drop off, but they never have. Aiden has never produced anything either. And it seems like I've been under his tree for ever, standing holding out my frilly fucking apron waiting to catch whatever he deigns to offer me. Your Ollie's more of a man than him any day.'

'My Ollie,' Jen said quietly. And something pricked her heart. 'Only he's not my Ollie any more. And, quite frankly, he probably only drove down here to make sure Chloe didn't lose a mother, however awful I may be.'

'I say we move this conversation to the pub. We might just manage to get one in before last orders,' Meg proposed, eyeing the clock. 'Because I'm in the mood to celebrate and listening to you two sad sacks is bringing me down.' She held her nose and shook her head horizontally, pretending to sink to the bottom of an imaginary ocean. 'Way, way down.'

It felt so good, the four of them being together again. So natural, so balanced.

'You know what's remarkable,' Jen said, as they were sitting in the Sheepshearer reliving the excitement of the confrontation and Dugan's downfall. 'We actually achieved something tonight. Your angel was right, Meg. Rowan
was
in trouble.' She put a bottle of beer to her lips.

'Meg has an angel?' Rowan gasped. 'Now there's posh.'

'Too right,' Meg agreed happily.

Georgina smiled. 'She told Meg to come over from the States because of your pact.'

'Pact?'

'You know,' Georgina carried on, 'the one with you and Meg leaving your children to each other if you died.'

Rowan looked bemused. 'We said what?'

'There was no pact, was there?' The truth suddenly dawned on Jen.

Meg looked suitably embarrassed. 'Hey now, it worked out for the best, didn't it?'

'What else were you lying about, Meg?' Jen shook her head. The girl was worse than Linda Petroski. 'Let's have it all.'

'OK, OK, while I'm coming clean, there was no lump either.'

'No lump!' gasped Georgina.

'Well actually there was,' Meg quickly backtracked as she registered Georgina's expression of distaste. 'But it was four years ago and benign, thank God.' She crossed herself. 'So it wasn't an outright lie cos I thought it could be cancer, for a while . . . until they checked . . .'

'Well thank goodness for that at least,' Georgina sighed, relieved at the result.

'And the angel?' Jen probed.

'The angel's real, definitely.' Meg ducked as Jen threw a beer mat at her. 'Cross my heart.'

'I think I've missed something here,' said Rowan.

'Oh, it was only Meg looking for attention as usual,' Jen explained, 'Hasn't changed. But at least you don't have to hide away any more,' she told Rowan, her mind busy making plans. 'You could leave the farm and move in with me and Chloe, if you like. I'm going to be buying a new house, it'd be fun to have you as a lodger.' She hesitated, wondering how to phrase this. 'You could have a normal life again. A place with indoor plumbing.'

'Yes,' agreed Georgina. 'You don't have to be . . .' she gestured, 'you know . . . quite so . . .' The word off-putting trembled on her lips. 'We could spiff you up a bit, bring you back to your old self. I have oodles of Giordani samples I could give you.'

'I'm great at colouring hair.' Meg's eyes were gleaming. 'And I know the most fab facial products including this yoghurt-based mask that's to die for. I bet a few weeks with those and . . .'

'Wait a minute,' Rowan interrupted, and started to laugh so loudly that several old men in the corner playing bar billiards glanced over. 'What makes you think I want to go anywhere? This is my home. Now Tom's been sent packing, I'm finally free to enjoy it. I love my little cottage and my painting and my "isolation" as you call it. And what do you mean, spiff me up?' She gestured at her outfit, her hair tumbling down her back as the last hairpins broke free 'Are you suggesting this is all a
disguise
of some sort?'

'Hell, no.' Meg and Georgina tried to dig themselves out of their well-intentioned hole, though Rowan was wiping her eyes with mirth.

'Just you were always the most beautiful of us all,' Jen said gently. 'You cared the most about your appearance, and with Dugan hounding you, I can understand why you might . . .'

'Realise that all that prettying yourself up for men is so unimportant,' Rowan finished her sentence. 'You used to think so too, Jen-o. When did
you
change?'

Probably when I married a younger man, Jen thought. Started comparing myself to all those girls his age.

'Think I'll just stay the way I am, right enough,' Rowan said, slapping her broad thighs. 'Who gives a hoot anyway? If I want to eat a doughnut, I'll eat a doughnut. Or a pizza. Or two pizzas if I feel like it. And not worry about my hair greying or care if I get wrinkles from being outside in all weathers. I've earned this face. And thanks for the offer, Georgie, but except for the occasional trip to the gallery,
this
is my big night out.' She gestured around the pub. 'I think the Giordani garb would be wasted here, don't you?'

'You're right, we're sorry.' They all started apologising together, Meg and Georgina shooting Jen you-started-this looks.

'I've seen your shop in Covent Garden, though,' Rowan told Georgina. 'You're incredibly talented.'

'You think so?' Georgina went pink with delight. 'We thought your paintings were terrific. I'm going to start collecting some. And if you ever want a job . . .'

'I don't think she does, somehow,' Jen smiled as she lifted her drink to her lips.

'Here's to Rowan.' Meg raised her glass in a toast. 'The nicest, sweetest and most together of us all.'

Rowan laughed again and waved her hand dismissively. 'Away with you,' she said. 'I didn't go running across country to
save you,
did I? You're better friends than I've ever been. And believe me, no angels are visiting
me.'

A shadow loomed over them. A short dark man, wringing his hands nervously.

'Rowan, bach, can I be getting you and your friends another round?'

She nodded graciously. 'That you can, Jones the Post.'

Damn, Jen thought. The girl still had it.

'Thing is . . .' Jen was swigging on her fourth bottle, 'the thing is . . . I always felt I trapped Ollie into marriage. If I hadn't got pregnant . . .' she turned unfocused eyes to the others. 'I found out that night we met in the Marlow Arms. When I saw you, Georgina, I suddenly realised . . . my periods were never late. He was so young. Only twenty.' She shook her head violently from side to side. 'It wasn't fair.'

'Hogwash.' Meg squinted across the table. 'You didn't intend getting knocked up, did you? You didn't force him to put a ring on your finger.' She laid her cheek against her knuckles and closed her eyes. 'Well, then, kiddo. You didn't trap him.'

'Sounds like, if anything, you trapped yourself.' Georgina's words rang out clearly, her voice bell-like, belying the vast amounts of alcohol she'd drunk. Perhaps it was infantile consumption of gripe water doled out by nanny, or early exposure to all those Martinis, but somehow she was the only one of them who seemed entirely sober. She looked as if she could go on and drink a whole fleet of sailors under the table. 'You weren't quite ready for marriage and motherhood. No one could blame you for that.'

'No, but . . . once I'd decided . . . I could have made the best of it. Instead of always wishing . . . wondering . . .' Jen took a few deep breaths, trying to suck oxygen into her poor beleaguered brain. 'Don't you think, if I was going to steal his youth, his freedom, I could at least have put my heart into it? But I didn't, did I?'

She rubbed a hand over her face, which was feeling alarmingly numb. 'I focused on all the things which were wrong with us instead of all his great qualities, and all the things which were so incredibly right.' Tears prickled the corners of her eyes as she felt swamped with remorse. 'Bitch, bitch, bitch. I turned into a tetchy strait-laced flannelette-pyjama-wearing old moaner. Obsessed with cleanness and tidying. Made him feel bad about dropping crumbs and tracking in mud. No wonder he wanted rid of me. It was all my fault.'

'I'm sure it wasn't, Jen, bach,' Rowan slurred as she put a heavy arm around her. 'You poor dab, you.'

'Obviously it wasn't your fault, Jen.' Georgina squeezed her other shoulder. 'It's always the men's. Ghastly, ignorant creatures. Peter Pan has a lot to answer for, if you want my take on it.'

'You can lead a horse to frigging water, dude.' Meg lifted her head and with extreme effort opened one eye. 'But he's still got to stick his muzzle in and suck.'

'Now, Rowan, Nutmeg, Jennifer.' Georgina rose to her feet. 'Talking of horses, time to saddle up and head off to the ranch. Otherwise we're going to be too tiddly to walk back.'

At four in the morning, from her place on the floor in front of the fire, Jen opened a bleary eye to see a moonlit Georgina sitting down to a giant sandwich.

She crawled out of her sleeping bag and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders as she staggered about in search of water for her aching head.

'Sorry,' Georgina whispered. 'I was starving. Did I wake you?'

'No.' Jen kept her voice low too. 'Dehydration did. Too much booze. Georgie, I just wanted to say . . .' She faltered. What could she say? Sorry for falling for your husband? Sorry for being such a selfish ratbag? 'Sorry.'

Georgina patted her hand. 'Don't worry. We'll be fine. Whatever it is.'

'But are
you
fine? Really?' Jen felt emotional again. Georgina had been so brave, so incredible tonight with Dugan, she couldn't remember when she had last admired someone so much.

Both their eyes turned to the sandwich. 'Aiden told you,' Georgina said. It wasn't a question. 'About the bulimia.'

Jen nodded slowly. 'Isn't there something you can do?'

Georgina stared at the bread and cheese in her hand and then took a thoughtful bite.

'It's not as bad as he makes out,' she said quietly. 'I did have bulimia. Happened after I lost the baby, but I got counselling. I had a bit of a setback when I was fretting about the Heal's thing and a blip in Devon. Visited an all-night café. It's when I get overstressed. But that's all in the past. And I'm determined that it's going to stay there. If I put on a few pounds, so what. Look at Rowan, so comfortable with who she is.'

'You're right,' Jen said. 'Really, we're so much more than our age or what we look like or the state of our house or our clothes. I guess we needed Rowan to remind us of that.'

'I guess we did.'

'Georgina, I have to tell you something . . . about Aiden.'

'About you and Aiden, you mean,' she smiled knowingly.

'Nothing happened, you know.'

'Look, even if it did, I don't want to know. I just don't want you to be hurt.'

'Me
hurt?'

'He'd never leave me, Jen, he has too much to lose. It's my money, my house, my business. He knows it and I know it. He toys with the idea but it never goes anywhere.'

'Never? You mean . . .'

'He's had endless affairs. Women fall at his feet. I don't blame you being tempted. I truly don't. You have all that history together and he has this endearing way about him, makes you feel so special inside.'