It Was You Page 16

  ‘’Fraid so.’

  ‘That’s no bloody good.’ She banged her fist lightly on the table. ‘We need details.’

  ‘Well, my chances of getting any are now nil. And,’ I added, noticing Sophie chewing on the end of the faux cigarette, as if formulating a plan, ‘I would seriously recommend against any digging on your part. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about the relationship.’ She continued to chew. ‘Sophie?’ She looked up. ‘I don’t think you should ask Jon about his girlfriend.’

  ‘As if I would!’ I eyed her sceptically. ‘I wouldn’t,’ she insisted.

  ‘And don’t hassle Miriam, either.’ At that her lower lip protruded. ‘She’s got enough on her plate.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Not sure.’

  Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘You,’ she said, ‘are shit at gossip.’

  ‘I know.’ I sighed.

  She was silent for a moment and then reached across the table, patting my hand. ‘Don’t worry about Jon,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ll see him at book group next week, so that’ll be a chance for the pair of you to sort things out, if you haven’t already.’

  I forced a smile. ‘I’m not worried about him. I’m sure everything will be fine,’ I said, attempting to sound blasé. ‘Anyway, enough about me and everyone else. How are you? I was worried about you on Saturday.’

  She smiled grimly, put a hand to her cheek and bit her lip. ‘God, I made such a tit of myself, didn’t I?’

  ‘I don’t think anyone saw it like that.’

  ‘Oh, shut-up,’ she laughed. ‘Having a rant and then running off crying? If that doesn’t count as making a tit of yourself, I don’t know what does.’ She lowered her glasses and winked at me. ‘But you’re a love for trying to make me feel better.’

  I smiled. ‘Look, the only person who made an idiot of themselves on Saturday was Eleanor Black.’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘Can’t agree with you there,’ she said, repositioning her sunglasses. ‘She didn’t shout back and, brace yourself, she graciously accepted my apology yesterday.’

  My jaw dropped. ‘You’ve spoken to her?’

  ‘Don’t sound so shocked. I phoned her yesterday morning. I got her answerphone. So I left her a message. I didn’t expect her to call me back but she did.’

  ‘But why did you call her in the first place?’

  She looked both puzzled and surprised. ‘I was a real bitch to her, Alice, and, besides,’ she picked up her coffee, ‘I couldn’t leave what I’d done hanging over David and the business, could I?’

  I blinked. ‘And she was OK about everything?’

  ‘Well, she sounded strained, like actually she wanted to kick the shit out of me. I mean, she certainly wasn’t Mother Theresa about it or anything. But she said she just wanted to forget about it all and that she would never mention it again. Asked me to tell David that too.’

  I looked at her. ‘You know why that is, don’t you? Has David told you what happened after you left?’

  She looked up sharply from her coffee. ‘No. I just thought she was being a grown-up and may have some genuine feelings for David after all.’ She sighed. ‘Made me feel even worse, actually. Thought I may have misjudged her and the situation a bit. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.’ She looked at me and took a thoughtful drag on her plastic tube. ‘But anyway, what happened?’

  I recounted the tale of Damario, whilst Sophie appeared alternately appalled and delighted. When I finished, she shook her head and grinned. ‘That’s just…’ Her voice trailed away and she leaned back in her chair, tilting her face towards the sky. ‘David’s just…’

  ‘He’s lovely,’ I said. ‘And his integrity levels astonish me. I just wish he’d find the woman he deserves. And I also wish he could be assertive enough day-to-day, like he was on Saturday night, to find someone good enough for him and go for it.’

  Sophie ceased her contemplation of the sky and turned her face towards me again, her eyes still hidden behind her sunglasses. ‘He deserves the very best,’ she said quietly, ‘and nothing less. As do you,’ she smiled. ‘Oh and look,’ she pointed over my shoulder, and I turned my head as a waitress emerged onto the terrace carrying my fish finger sandwich and a salad for Sophie, ‘here comes lunch.’

  Chapter 22

  ‘Hurrah! It’s Alice!’ Abs embraced me, pulling me inside for a tight cuddle against one of the many riotously patterned, home-made jumpers she and Pete shared as lounge-wear. This one, I noted, was particularly huge on her, the rolled-up sleeves forming sizable doughnuts around her wrists.

  ‘That looks warm – for May,’ I said, as she released me.

  ‘Oh, you know how I feel the cold,’ she grinned, giving herself the air of a slender, wide-eyed Cheshire Cat. ‘And this one is my absolute favourite. When I wore it into school, one of the boys in my form asked me if I’d shrunk. And he was serious,’ she giggled. ‘Pete and I knitted it together and we get in it together sometimes too.’

  I held up a hand. ‘Enough sharing.’

  She laughed again and then turned and shouted in the direction of the lounge. ‘Hey, everyone! It’s Alice! Yay!’

  I smiled. Abs always welcomed visitors, even frequent ones, into her home as if (a) she hadn’t seen them for a year or two and (b) seeing them was the best thing that had happened to her in that time.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m a bit late but,’ I took off my bicycle helmet and pointed at my bike, now locked to the railings which fronted her maisonette, ‘I got a flat, so had to push it part of the way.’

  Abs’ face fell, as she gasped and put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my goodness, that’s just dreadful. Poor you. Hang on. Pete’ll sort this out,’ she said, turning and yelling up the stairs at impressive volume, ‘Pete! Pete! Alice needs your help urgently!’

  We stood for a moment before the silence was broken by the sound of a chair being pushed back on the wooden floor and then of a door creaking open. Slow footsteps were followed, eventually, by an almost whispered response, as Pete made his way unhurriedly down the stairs. I noticed that he didn’t seem to share Abs’ problem with the cold, as he was tonight wearing navy blue Bermuda shorts, flip flops and a grey t-shirt bearing the slogan ‘Run Don’t Walk’, which sagged a little over his slim frame.

  ‘Oh dear. Is there a problem?’ he asked, progressing at the speed of a tortoise and speaking at a similar pace. ‘Hello there, Alice.’

  ‘Hi, Pete,’ I smiled.

  ‘Yes, yes, there is a problem,’ said Abs breathlessly. ‘You’ll never guess what, Pete.’

  Pete’s mouth formed a worried ‘ooh’ shape, but no sound was emitted as he waited for Abs to continue.

  ‘Poor Alice has got a flat.’ Abs placed a concerned hand on Pete’s elbow, as if to provide physical support, should the news of my puncture prove too much for him.

  Pete maintained his silent ‘ooh’ face.

  ‘I know,’ said Abs. ‘That’s what I said. But you’ll fix it for her, won’t you?’ She turned to me. ‘He’ll fix it for you, Alice.’

  I tried to object. ‘Oh no, really, I can—’

  ‘Oh, please let him do it,’ she begged. ‘He loves that kind of thing, don’t you, Pete?’ She kissed him fondly on the cheek.

  Pete smiled and nodded slowly.

  ‘See?’ said Abs. ‘See how excited punctures get him?’

  I scrutinised Pete for any indication at all that he might not love mending punctures quite as much as Abs was implying. However, finding him looking just as untroubled by the prospect of fixing my bike as he did about every other life event, I decided to relax graciously into the situation.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure it’s not too much of a bother, Pete, I would be very grateful.’

  ‘My pleasure, Alice,’ he said slowly and, so far as I could tell, sincerely.

  ‘Brill,’ said Abs. She kissed him again and then took my hand and led me down the hallway.

  As we entered the lounge, I was greeted by a chorus of ‘hellos�
�� and Sophie beckoned me to come and share the sofa with herself and Miriam. Jon and Connie were seated in armchairs opposite us. I returned everyone’s greetings, feeling unexpectedly awkward at seeing Jon for the first time since Eleanor Black’s party ten days earlier. We hadn’t been in touch at all in that time, other than when responding to a group email Sophie had sent suggesting a foursome tapas evening with herself and David. The matter of our disagreement at the party had never been revisited, and as I sat down and forced myself to make eye contact with him, I realised that, for me, the conversations that night had marked a painful, possibly irreversible, shift in our friendship.

  ‘I’ll just run and fetch a dining chair,’ said Abs. What can I get you, Alice? White, or red, or a soft drink?’

  ‘Actually, can I just have water, Abs?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, and disappeared.

  ‘So, I hear you’ve got a puncture,’ smiled Miriam.

  I laughed. ‘Poor Pete. I’m sure he’s got much better things to do with his time. But Miriam,’ I said, looking her up and down, ‘you look gorgeous.’

  She looked pleasurably flustered. ‘Do I?’

  ‘Now, if that isn’t exactly what I just said to her,’ said Connie smiling. ‘She looks so beautiful. That top is gorgeous.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Miriam, pulling at her blouse, ‘this is incredibly old.’

  ‘Well, you look great,’ I smiled. ‘Have you been up to something special? Not a naughty lunch with Craig?’

  Her face darkened. ‘Craig hasn’t had time for a naughty lunch for over a year now. Not with me anyway,’ she added. ‘No, I was in Sainsbury’s this morning and then I had a play-date in the park this afternoon. Nothing special.’

  ‘Sounds special to me,’ said Sophie. ‘I wish I’d been in the park.’

  Miriam smiled. ‘Yes, it was a nice day for it. Phoebe just loves the sandpit, although her friend, Emily, eats the sand. Drives her poor father demented.’

  The reference to Emily and her father jolted a memory. ‘Oh, I forgot to tell you that I saw Louise Battersby at Eleanor Black’s party,’ I said. ‘She mentioned Emily. And her dad. I forget his name.’

  ‘Eammon,’ said Miriam quickly. She shifted in her seat and turned away from me, as if looking for something. ‘Now, where did I put my…’ she mumbled.

  ‘Here you go, Alice.’ Abs re-entered the room, struggling to carry a chair and a glass of water. I stood up and relieved her of the glass. ‘Just let me know if you’d like anything else. Now, am I interrupting anything if I quickly sort out a little bit of admin?’ She picked up an iPad from the arm of Jon’s chair.

  ‘Not at all. You admin away, Abs,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Fantastic!’ grinned Abs, sitting down. ‘Right, well, the first thing is the school production of Oliver!’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Connie. ‘How are your rehearsals going? How is the poor child with the broken leg? He was playing Fagin, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Well,’ Abs clasped her hands excitedly, ‘he’s had his second operation and we did have some mobility concerns, but he’s built himself a trolley, which our lovely DT department has made safe. And we’ve written the stairs out of his scenes.’

  ‘A trolley?’ queried Sophie on behalf of us all.

  ‘Yes. I’m so proud of him,’ beamed Abs. ‘It’s just wonderful because he didn’t want to be in a wheelchair. He felt it wasn’t in the spirit of the times or the situation. And his trolley is just fantastic.’

  ‘Well, that sounds so very intriguing, Abigail,’ said Connie.

  ‘But didn’t the Victorians have crutches?’ asked Sophie. ‘Tiny Tim definitely had crutches.’

  ‘The thing is, he can’t bend his left knee,’ explained Abs. ‘So crutches aren’t really on. But the trolley is just amazing.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ pressed Sophie, looking puzzled. ‘Describe the trolley to me.’

  ‘It’s about so high,’ said Abs, holding her hand out at just below knee height, ‘and about a metre and a half long, so he can have his legs sticking straight out.’

  ‘So it’s a go-kart,’ said Sophie.

  Abs looked thoughtful. ‘I suppose it is a little like a go-kart, now I think about it.’

  ‘But how does he get around?’ Sophie was clearly fascinated. ‘How is he going to pick a pocket or two?’

  ‘Well, his head is at perfect pick-a-pocket height and,’ Abs sat on the floor, her legs extended in front of her, ‘he either propels himself with his hands flat on the floor like this.’ She demonstrated. ‘Or, during musical numbers, when he has to move and gesture at the same time, Dodger pulls him along on a piece of string. The trolley is on casters, so he can twirl him around beautifully.’

  I felt sick with the effort of not laughing and fixed my gaze on a Matisse print, hanging on the wall behind Abs, in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone else. However, at this point, Miriam’s wine went down the wrong way, prompting a coughing fit which thankfully gave the rest of us something to laugh about.

  When the rather disproportionate amusement over Miriam choking had died down, she asked the obvious question. ‘Did you never think of perhaps finding someone else for the part, Abs?’

  Abs shook her head. ‘This child has so many issues,’ she said and her smile faded. ‘But he is so enthusiastic about everything to do with the show.’ She shrugged. ‘I just didn’t want this to be another disappointment for him.’

  ‘Well, I think the go-kart sounds bloody brilliant,’ said Sophie. ‘Good for him.’

  Abs nodded and her smile returned. ‘Anyway, would anyone like to come? And don’t worry at all if you can’t. Because I know you’re all super busy.’

  ‘I’d love to come,’ said Jon.

  ‘Fabulous!’ said Abs. She looked at me. ‘And you, Alice?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘It’s been on the calendar for months.’

  ‘Oh, thank you. The children so appreciate it and their families aren’t always…’ Her voice trailed away, as she concentrated on her iPad. ‘Two? Is that right? For the Friday?’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said.

  ‘OK.’ She tapped the screen. ‘So, Jon, you’re coming with Alice, like last year?’

  I looked at him and he looked at Abs. ‘Wouldn’t it be better for you, if we each brought someone else along?’ he said.

  I nodded and attempted a smile.

  ‘Well,’ said Abs, ‘obviously the more seats I can fill the better but I don’t want anyone to feel they have to buy tickets and—’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Jon. ‘I had already mentioned it to a friend and she’s very keen to come.’

  I stared at him, while trying to suppress a rising sense of hurt.

  ‘So you could go as a foursome then,’ said Sophie brightly, ‘with Alice and her friend on the Friday, couldn’t you?’

  ‘Marvellous!’ said Abs. ‘Thank you so, so much. Anyone else?’

  Connie booked a pair of tickets for the opening night, Miriam had to check dates and Sophie already knew she couldn’t make it, but ordered a copy of the DVD of the performance. Box office business concluded, Abs moved onto the matter of the book group anniversary dinner. We held one every year, and each member brought along a partner or a guest. I had taken Dad as my plus-one when Eddie couldn’t come, and last year I had invited David along.

  This year, Abs was in charge of the restaurant booking and, having reserved an upstairs room at Primrose Café, she now needed to confirm numbers, fill us in on menu options and check whether anyone was bringing a friend who had any dietary requirements or, as Sophie put it, was ‘fussy’.

  ‘So,’ she said, smiling, ‘everyone has confirmed they’re coming. I just have to check a few plus ones. Miriam,’ Abs turned to her, ‘you’re bringing Romy.’

  Miriam nodded.

  ‘It’ll be so lovely to see her,’ said Abs.

  ‘It will,’ I agreed. ‘But why isn’t Craig coming? Is he working?’

  Miriam shrugge
d. ‘I expect so.’

  ‘And Romy’s pescatarian…’ Abs focused again on her screen. ‘Brilliant. Connie, you’ll be with Greg.’

  ‘That is correct,’ said Connie.

  ‘And Sophie and Alice are definitely coming,’ said Abs. ‘Each bringing a plus one?’

  ‘Yes,’ confirmed Sophie. ‘Alice and I are going to toss a coin and whoever loses has to bring David.’

  Miriam tutted. ‘Poor David.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Abs looked up. ‘And Jon, did you decide about a guest?’

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘I’ll be bringing Suzanna.’

  I glanced around the room. All eyes were on Jon. The expectation of additional information hung in the air.

  I stared down into my glass of water and wondered who, if anyone, would probe further. Under any other circumstances it would have been Sophie. However, she had already ruled herself out by dint of her extreme reaction to the girlfriend bombshell at Eleanor Black’s party.

  After what seemed like several hours, it was Miriam who asked the question to which we all, I assumed, wanted an answer.

  ‘Suzanna?’ she queried hesitantly. ‘Do any of us know her?’

  ‘No,’ said Jon. ‘She lives in London. But I was having dinner with her recently when I bumped into Craig. He may have mentioned it.’

  I didn’t look at Miriam but her embarrassed confusion was obvious in her voice. ‘Ooh… now, did he? Yes, I think he might have said something.’

  I placed my glass of water on the floor by my feet and remained silent; unwilling and unable to take any part in the conversation.

  ‘Well, I shall be very interested and delighted to meet her, Jon,’ said Connie gently.

  ‘We all will!’ exclaimed Abs.

  Jon laughed. ‘And I’m delighted by your interest.’

  I reached down and picked up my book from the floor.

  ‘Gosh,’ said Miriam, nudging me, ‘you’re a bit keen tonight. You haven’t actually read it all the way through, have you?’

  ‘I have, actually.’ I tried to keep my voice light.

  ‘Well, that’s a novelty,’ she teased. ‘Mind you, it’s only Jon who has read every single one without fail.’