You, Me and Other People (10 page)

though those that are betray’d

Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor

Stands in worse case of woe …

William Shakespeare,
Cymbeline

I have Ben to thank for the best line in the final version of
the
song, now entitled ‘Fall Apart’. It’s ‘I love you, need you, you’re my glue – I fall apart without you’. Josh Skyped me yesterday and literally did a dance of joy at LA’s positive response. ‘I can taste the Bolli,’ he yelled. Me, I’m not so sure. I hope he’s right and that it’s just my own self-doubt creeping back in. Either way, we’ll know soon enough.

This morning, I’m listening to the song over and over again, through my earphones on the walk to work. The High Street office is just over a mile from the house, and I figure if I walk there and back on the days I work, it will counteract the crisps I’ve eaten over the last few months. I sense, rather than hear, a car draw up beside me and pull the plugs from my ears.

‘Want a lift?’ Giles has wound down the electric window and is grinning out at me. I hesitate a moment, but my toes are freezing and it
is
a gloomy, slate-grey November morning. I climb into his car, shiver, suddenly grateful for the increase in temperature.

‘Excited? Nervous?’ he asks, after a couple of minutes. I haven’t the heart to tell him I’m crapping myself and that I spent last night driving around Weybridge to make sure I knew the itinerary backwards.

‘Are you sure about this, Giles?’

‘You’re well capable,’ he says, looking left and right as he parks the car in his numbered space behind the office. ‘Look, you’re really helping us out. Stephanie is with us another two months before she goes on maternity leave, and she really doesn’t like doing the physical show-overs now. She’ll do the research of the rental market, set up the itineraries and take over from you on reception when you’re out.’

I nod, determined to show willingness.

‘Can I use my own car?’ I ask the question that’s been playing on my mind. ‘Stephanie’s is a manual. I don’t do gearsticks.’

Giles shakes his head. ‘Yours won’t be covered for business use. Take this one.’ He shrugs. ‘I’m in a management meeting most of the afternoon, so don’t need it.’

I look around his state-of-the-art Range Rover; chalk-coloured leather seats and a console that looks as though it belongs in an air-traffic-control room. An image of it wrapped around a lamppost pokes itself to the front of my brain.

‘Oh no, no, no, no.’

‘What? You don’t do Range Rovers either?’

‘I don’t do tanks.’

Giles laughs. ‘Here, take it out for a spin. It drives itself.’ He hands me the key ring. ‘Go on, just take it up the road and back – you’ll see.’

Before I know it, he has left and gone in through the back door of the office. I look at the fob in my hand and take a very deep breath. Switching to the driver’s seat, I adjust the controls for the legs, move the rear-view mirror and press the start button. Pointing the car out of the car park, I proceed slowly up the High Street, passing by Caroline’s office at the end. I wonder how she’s doing. Who is occupying her time right now? Is there someone in there now, sitting in the same chair that I sat in for months? Is it a he or a she? Are they struggling with the same problem I had? Do all therapists deal with constant broken marriages, like GPs have to see constant snotty noses?

I turn around the large roundabout and head back. Glancing back up at her window, I realize I needed Caroline then. Now, I need people in LA to
fall apart
when they hear my song. And I need to make this itinerary work this afternoon, so that the staff in J. T. Watkins all think I’m even more wonderful than I’ve been on reception and maybe offer me Stephanie’s job when she goes on maternity leave. I look towards the heavens. One or both will do please, Mrs Universe.

Hours later, I’m relaying the success of my first ‘tour’ – with a real applicant looking for a real home – to Karen.

‘Have I got enough food?’ she interrupts me.

‘Have you been listening to me?’

‘Mrs Scott, weird name because she’s Scottish, looking for a huge house to rent. You saw three on St George’s Hill and one in Esher. All fantastic. She loves two of them. You drove Giles’s tank and loved every minute.’ She turns, gives me a pointed look.

‘You have loads of food,’ I tell her, taking in the array of pots containing chilli, vegetable curry, rice and goulash, all provided by her sister-in-law, Tess. There is also an assortment of tiny canapés, all provided by me via Marks and Spencer’s. I pinch one from a stacked plate.

‘Come back into the bedroom, your hair is falling down at the back.’ I steer Karen past Maeve and Trisha, two of Meg’s friends from university who are going to serve the food, and Jack, another friend, who will be on wine and beer duty. In her bedroom, I stand her in front of the full-length mirror, pin the stray bits of hair back into the chignon. ‘You look stunning,’ I tell her, placing my head on her shoulder and talking to her reflection. She is wearing a clinging red satin dress, one that is totally unforgiving, yet looks so good on her that I have flat-stomach envy. ‘What time is Ben coming?’

She casts an anxious eye at her wrist. ‘Ten minutes ago.’

‘He’s a Hall. They’re always late.’

She turns around and pulls me to her. ‘I’m sorry, you know.’

‘What for?’

‘For falling in love with him. I know that means awkward times, like tonight, when both you and Adam are here.’

I shrug, smooth my hands over my wraparound dress, rub my not-so-flat stomach. Even having lost a ton of weight, mine still requires enclosure in magic knickers. ‘I’m all right seeing Adam, so don’t you worry. Tonight is all about you, you forty-year-old, you.’ I play-punch her shoulder, just as the doorbell chimes and she heads outside to greet her guests.

I wait in the bedroom, aware that sudden noise outside means that a large group have arrived together. She deserves a fantastic party with her friends, so what I won’t tell her is that I’m actually quite anxious about tonight. It is the first time that I will be in a social situation with Adam and Meg since the break-up. Karen did ask if I was all right with him coming and I knew I couldn’t refuse her. If they stay together, he’s Ben’s brother and I’ll have to get used to it. So, at best, tonight’s going to be weird. At worst, it’s going to be a car crash.

I brace myself for the evening ahead. I think back to that first time when Ben and Karen laid eyes on each other in my house, when I knew straight away that they would be an item. I just hadn’t banked on them being such a serious item so quickly. ‘You just know when you know,’ is what Karen has said when I try to talk to her about it. Ben’s as bad, quoting some similar crap to me, when I offered an opinion that they shouldn’t be moving in together, after only knowing each other a few weeks. So, tomorrow, Ben is moving into her flat and, conveniently, Adam is staying on in his. And tonight I’m going to keep my trap shut, because I love her and I love Ben and I hope that they will be happy. It’s just that I don’t believe any more. I don’t believe in the whole ‘perfect fit’ and ‘glue’ crap. I may have written a beautiful song about it, but it came from a latent, possibly dead part of me.

‘What do you think of Jack?’ Meg has had a few glasses of wine. I follow her glassy eyes in his direction and see it again. Fucking hell – am I the only one around here not falling in love?

‘He seems nice,’ I say. ‘I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him properly. Are you and he—?’

Suddenly, she’s nodding furiously. ‘I’ve been dying to tell you. I met him last term. He’s a couple of years older than me, sooo bright and we just …’ She looks back at me, stops herself and bites her lip. ‘Maybe he can come for dinner some Sunday?’

‘That’d be great.’ I nod less furiously, but lots of nods all the same. ‘I’d like to meet him properly, you know, if you and he are …’

I can’t quite bring myself to say ‘having sex’ or ‘in a relationship’ or ‘fuck buddies’, or any variation on that theme. Aware I haven’t seen that look in her eye for a while, I feel a ping on my heartstrings and clench my teeth. Perhaps it’s not that I don’t believe any more, just that I miss being in love.

I chat to Brian, Karen’s brother, and Tess, his wife.

‘And what about you?’ Brian asks. ‘Still thumping that punchbag?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘How are you really?’

It’s a question I’m used to but still dread – one that invariably results in the use of the ‘f’ word.

‘I’m fine,’ I tell them. ‘Enjoying the new job … the writing’s going really well. All in all, things are good.’ Though I know the words to be true, I find myself unable to look these people in the eye as I speak. Instead, my eyes are cast over their shoulders towards the front door. Minutes later, I’m vaguely aware of Brian talking about being involved in the new Battersea Power Station development, when Adam walks into the party.

I try and see behind him. He’s alone. I let out an audible sigh of relief and immediately relax. Meg has headed in his direction, is taking his coat from him. She kisses him on his cheek and he smiles. He has always loved our girl; loves her fiercely, more than anyone and anything, I think. He looks around, sees me, raises his eyebrows and gives a tiny wave before Meg whisks him over to the drinks table. I watch them, see Adam and Jack shake hands, and feel for her. She has to tell us both about him – tell us separately. Yet again, I’m surprised by how sad this makes me feel. Maeve walks by with a tray of drinks, tells me the food is ready, to please help myself. I do – to two glasses of champagne – and excuse myself from Brian and Tess before heading to Karen’s bedroom.

I’m quite happy, perched on a pile of coats, looking like the princess and the pea, when he comes to find me.

‘What are you doing in here, in the dark?’ he asks from the doorway.

‘Nothing, just wanted some quiet time.’

‘Can I join you?’

‘Help yourself, if you can find the chair.’ I nod towards another pile of coats sitting on Karen’s bedside chair. He decides to climb on top of them, balancing himself awkwardly – it’s as if he wants to be on the same level as me.

‘How are you?’ he opens with.

‘I’m good.’

‘How’s the job working out?’

‘I’m enjoying it.’

‘So, Karen and Ben, eh? Who’d have thunk?’

I laugh. It was always one of our silly sayings. ‘They seem happy,’ is all I can offer. I see the shadow of his head bob in agreement. ‘You’re alone?’ I can’t help myself.

‘Yes.’

‘No Emma?’

The room is black, but I can feel his eyes sear into me.

‘We’re not together any more, but I would never have brought Emma,’ he says.

The door opens suddenly and a kissing couple hurl themselves into the wall. The kiss is long and hard. They are oblivious to the fact that we are there. Adam and I are still. Silent. The couple pull apart and she speaks.

‘We’d better get back,’ she says, and I feel myself blush in the shadows at Meg’s voice.

The male voice groans. ‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me out there.’

Meg giggles. ‘C’mon, let’s go. My parents are both here for Chrissake …’ She pulls him from the room.

Adam’s voice sounds pained. ‘She means “here at the party”, doesn’t she?’

‘She does,’ I confirm. There’s no way she knew we were in the room.

‘That was awkward …’

‘Yep.’

‘Do you know him? Jack? She seems keen on him, talks about him a lot.’

Did he just say he’d split up from the bimbo whore? And how the fuck does he know about Jack when I’ve only heard about him tonight? Suddenly, the fact that Meg went back to her digs after a couple of days when she normally stays for the whole study break makes sense. I’d felt guilty, thinking that it was because the family, the house dynamic, had changed without her father. Now I know: it must have been to spend more time with a man her father knew about and I didn’t. I’m unexpectedly miffed by this.

‘Beth? Is she keen on him?

‘Yep.’ I reply the only way I can.

‘Are you only ever going to speak to me in short, snappy sentences? We used to be that couple, you know.’

‘Until your lies killed us.’ Yes, my statement is short and snappy, but it’s honest. I hear him take a drink.

‘Do you think there could ever be a time where we could be friends?’

I don’t answer him. I can’t. I want to believe that could be possible. I really do. There is a weighted silence before I say. ‘Maybe.’

‘Anytime soon?’

‘Possibly.’ I hear him climb down off the coats and approach the bed.

‘I miss you,’ he says. ‘I miss everything about you, but most of all I miss being your friend. I miss you being my friend.’

I swallow hard. Thankfully, the sound is drowned out by raucous laughter from the living room. ‘With Karen and Ben together, we’ll have to meet more often than we otherwise would have. I know I’ll have to see you with other people, but thank you for not doing it tonight.’

He coughs. ‘I wouldn’t do that.’

I climb down from my pile of coats, am standing right next to him. ‘Therein lies the problem, Adam. I didn’t know what you’d do. I didn’t know you and Miss Shine had finished. I didn’t know whether you’d bring her or not. I don’t know what you think is appropriate or not, I don’t know what makes a lie okay in your head when it’s not okay in mine. You say you wouldn’t do that, when the truth is you’ve done a lot worse.’

I can feel his sharp intake of breath next to me.

‘Lots of long, un-snappy sentences …’ He sighs. ‘I’ll never stop being sorry for the fool that I’ve been.’

A tiny part of me feels for him. ‘Yeah, well. I’m moving forward, doing something about it.’ I walk towards the door. ‘Maybe you should try that too?’

Outside, I turn down another glass of wine offered to me by Jack. I smile sweetly, banishing the thought of his tongue plundering my daughter’s throat. I search the room for the birthday girl and catch her eye; she beckons me over to where she and Ben are dancing. On the slow walk through the crowd to Karen, I decide three things.
One
, I will try and like my daughter’s boyfriend, who for some reason I seem to have taken an unreasonable, instant dislike to.
Two
, I will stay as long as I need to for Karen, but I’m driving home tonight. I look back towards the bedroom door from which Adam has emerged. He looks tired. Broken.
Three
. As Karen pulls me into a dancing hug, I decide that, someday, not anytime too soon, but someday, I will maybe try to be my husband’s friend again. Maybe.