6 May
Laurie
‘But, Oscar, you know how important tonight is.’
I can’t keep the plaintive note from my voice. Oscar promised he’d come back a day early from Brussels this week to attend Sarah’s leaving dinner. I so rarely impact on his travel plans; I’m well aware that his diary is full and difficult to rearrange, but I thought just this once he’d be able to do what I needed him to do.
‘I know I did, and I wish there was something I could do, but my hands are tied,’ he says. ‘Brantman flew over this morning out of the blue, and between you and me I think there might be another promotion in the pipeline. How’s it going to look if I duck out early to go to a party?’
I sigh. Brantman is Oscar’s boss, the big cheese. ‘I see. It’s okay.’ I don’t especially see and it’s not really okay, but there’s nothing to achieve from arguing with him – I know he won’t change his mind. The huge commitment Oscar puts in for the bank compromises our marriage in a million ways, and it isn’t just any old party tonight. It’s a farewell dinner; the night I have to hug my best friend in the world goodbye and wish her well with her new life on the other side of the globe.
‘Maybe we could look at planning a trip out there to see her next year.’ He casts around for something mollifying to say, even though we both know there’s not even a chance of him taking a few weeks off to accommodate such a break, especially if this promotion happens. With the exception of our honeymoon, our holidays have been more like long weekends fitted around his working week in Belgium: a couple of days in Paris, a flying visit to Rome. On both occasions we’ve separated at the airport on Sunday evening and flown to different countries for work on Monday morning. Despite our best efforts to the contrary, our marriage is becoming exactly what we said it wouldn’t be – part-time.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,’ I say despondently.
‘You will,’ he says softly. ‘Sorry, Laurie.’
He rings off with an ‘I love you’ before I can say anything else.
‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ Sarah hugs me and twirls us round, laughing as she glances towards the hotel doors. ‘Where’s Oscar?’
‘Brussels. Sorry, Sar, he got stuck.’
She frowns, and then it clears. ‘No worries. You’re here, that’s the main thing.’
Our heels click against the marble floor as she leads me towards the bar. She’s chosen to have a farewell dinner with friends tonight before she and Luke head over to Bath tomorrow to spend their final few days with her family. I still can’t believe she’s going to live in Australia. I feel as if I’m losing her all over again. I’m thrilled for her of course, but I couldn’t help crying when she told me, and then crying again when I told Oscar at home later. I seem to have done a lot of crying lately.
‘This is nice,’ I say, trying to distract myself. I’ve not been to this hotel before; it’s got that intimate boutique thing going on, all warm greys and chandeliers with tall vases of flowers everywhere. ‘Very grown-up.’
She grins. ‘I had to do it some time, Lu.’
‘Moving across the world to be with the man you love certainly counts as grown-up in my book.’
She squeezes my hand. ‘Mine too. I’m bloody terrified.’
‘I don’t know why,’ I say. ‘Australia’s not going to know what’s hit it.’
If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Sarah is going to rock it over there. She’s already secured a job with one of the leading TV networks; all hail Australia’s sparkling new showbiz correspondent.
Before we go through the glass doors into the bar, she catches hold of my hand to stop me.
‘Listen, Lu, there’s something I need to say.’ We stand close together and she squeezes my fingers. ‘I can’t fly to the other side of the world without saying sorry for the way I was about … well, you know, everything.’
‘Oh God, Sar, you don’t need to apologize,’ I say, choking back tears already. I don’t think our argument is something we’ll ever talk about without being emotional. ‘Or maybe let me apologize too. I hated so much about what happened that day.’
She nods, her lip trembling. ‘I said some horrible things to you. I didn’t mean them. Missing your wedding day is the worst thing I’ve ever done.’
‘I hurt you. I never wanted to, Sar.’
She dashes her hand over her eyes. ‘I should have accepted your bracelet. It was the loveliest thing anyone has ever given me. I love you like a sister, Lu, you’re my best friend in the entire bloody world.’
I’m wearing the bracelet right now, and I do exactly as I’ve planned to. I open the clasp and slip it off, then fasten it around her wrist. We both look at it and she grips my hand really tight.
‘There,’ I say, my voice shaky. ‘It’s where it belongs.’
‘I’ll always treasure it.’ Her voice catches in her throat.
I smile through my tears. ‘I know you will. Now come on.’ I pull her into a hug. ‘Dry your eyes. Tonight’s supposed to be a happy night.’
We hang on tight to each other; it’s an ‘I’m sorry’ hug, and an ‘I love you’ hug, and a ‘what am I going to do without you’ hug.
Luke pulls me into a headlock as soon as he spots me in the bar.
‘Now we can start the party,’ he says with a grin. ‘She’s been watching the door for you.’
He’s adorable. Built like a rugby player, loud and full of sunshine, he only has eyes for Sarah. When she and Jack were together, I thought I saw love. And perhaps it was love, of sorts, but not of this sort, and certainly not on this scale. Sarah and Luke ooze love from their bones.
‘Laurie.’
I turn as someone touches my arm.
‘Jack! Sarah didn’t know if you’d be able to make it.’ Pleasure and relief wash through me at the unexpected sight of him.
He dips and kisses my cheek, his hand warm on my back. ‘I wasn’t sure we could come until this morning,’ he says. ‘It’s really good to see you.’
We. I look at him, and for a few seconds we say nothing at all. Then he looks away, towards a woman in a cerise dress who’s just appeared beside him with a couple of glasses of champagne in her hand. He smiles as he accepts one, slinging his arm loosely round her waist.
‘Laurie, this is Amanda.’
‘Oh,’ I say, and then catch myself and overcompensate. ‘Hi! It’s good to meet you at last, I’ve heard so much about you!’ I haven’t really; Jack’s mentioned her in passing in emails and I’ve seen her on his Facebook page, but somehow it hadn’t quite prepared me for seeing them together in the flesh. She’s quite beautiful, in a gilded blonde kind of way. Her chin-length flapper-girl waves look as if they’ve been set by one of those super-cool celebrity stylists, and she’s wearing her dress with a black leather jacket and ankle boots. She’s glamorous in an edgy way, and the watchful look in her blue eyes doesn’t quite marry up with the warmth of her voice.
‘Laurie,’ she smiles, air-kissing me on both cheeks. ‘We meet at last.’
I try not to overanalyse her words. At last? What does she mean by that? Her eyes linger on me, as if she wants to say something else.
We’re saved from the need for further immediate conversation by Sarah clapping her hands and ushering us all through into the restaurant. There’s fifteen or so of us, a mix of Sarah and Luke’s friends and closest colleagues. I glance at the two circular tables and see Oscar’s place card beside mine, with Jack on my other side, and then Amanda. I sigh and wonder if it’s too late to mess around with the cards, because without Oscar to balance us out, this is going to be testing. I don’t recognize any of the other names on the table. Joy.
‘Looks like I bagged the best seat in the house,’ Jack says with a grin, coming to stand beside me as he surveys the table.
My smile is so tight I wonder how my teeth don’t ping out and bounce off the walls. I doubt there’s enough wine in this hotel to make tonight bearable. I’m losing my best friend, my husband hasn’t turned up, and now I’m to spend the next couple of hours making polite conversation with Jack’s beautiful new girlfriend.
I take my seat and catch the waiter’s eye as he circulates with the wine. I think we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other tonight.
Jack
Bloody Oscar. The one time I actually wouldn’t mind him being here and he can’t be arsed to even be in the same country. Although from what I gather, he’s practically emigrated of late. Poor Laurie, it must be pretty lonely for her.
‘Great,’ Amanda sighs as she scans the set menu card. I sigh inwardly too, because eating out with her is always a bit of a gamble. She’s pescatarian and sugar-free, although the sugar in wine gets some kind of special pass because she says the alcohol neutralizes it. I’m pretty sure she’s made that up right off the top of her head, something I routinely tease her about. Tonight, though, I really want us to make a good impression on everyone, which is tricky, because the starter is duck liver pâté and the main course is chicken, and it’s my fault no one knows that my girlfriend doesn’t eat either. Sarah sent an email a while ago asking if anyone was vegetarian and I never answered.
‘I’ll sort it,’ I murmur.
She looks at me as the wine waiter fills up her glass. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll have other things.’ She catches Laurie’s eye. ‘Pescatarian.’ She chucks in an apologetic smile. ‘I hate having to make a scene.’
I try to catch Laurie’s attention, but she’s studying her menu again.
‘So what do you do, Mandy?’
I smart on her behalf; the Australian guy – I presume one of Luke’s friends – seated across the table couldn’t know it, but if there’s one other thing Amanda’s a bit of a stickler about it’s not being called Mandy.
‘Amanda,’ she corrects him, smiling to soften it. ‘I’m an actress.’
‘Bonza!’ The guy seems like he’s already had one too many. ‘Anything I’d have seen you in?’
This guy seems to have some kind of sixth sense for all the wrong questions. Amanda’s doing pretty well; she’s been in a couple of programmes local to Scotland and has a minor recurring role on a soap, but it’s highly unlikely this guy’s going to have heard of them.
‘Amanda’s on a soap up in Scotland,’ I say.
‘It’s just a small part,’ she amends, laughing.
The guy loses interest, and I lean in and speak quietly so only she can hear me. ‘You okay? Sorry if it’s a bit weird.’
She smiles gamely. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
She turns and strikes up polite conversation with the guy on her other side, leaving me and Laurie eating awkwardly next to each other. I’m not sure bringing Amanda today was my smartest move; she seems fine, but I’m starting to realize that I’m not.
‘It’s good,’ Laurie says, gesturing towards the pâté with her knife.
I nod. ‘How’re things?’
She pushes her salad around the plate. ‘Work’s interesting. I’m covering women’s health features mainly, so lots to learn.’
‘I’ll bet.’
‘You?’
‘Love it, yeah. Late nights, but I like that.’
Laurie lays down her cutlery. ‘Edinburgh looks lovely from your photographs.’
‘It is. You should come up sometime, I’ll give you the guided tour.’ I can feel Amanda stiffen slightly beside me, and on my other side Laurie looks uncertain. ‘You and Oscar, I mean, obviously,’ I add, to make it better. Then I make it worse again by tagging on, ‘If he can take the time off.’ What am I doing? Having the two of them visit is my idea of perfect hell.
I’m relieved when the waiting staff clear the plates and Laurie excuses herself from the table. I smile at the wine waitress to come and fill me up again. There’s only one way to deal with this level of social horror.
Laurie
What an evening. Every time I get a couple of minutes with Sarah we set each other off crying, Oscar’s a no-show and Jack’s girlfriend is annoyingly nice, even if she is a pescatarian. I took myself to the ladies to give myself a stern talking to after our first course, and told my reflection that she’s Jack’s choice of partner, and he’s my friend, so I need to try to be hers. In fact, it must have taken a lot of balls for her to come today. Since then I’ve asked her more about her job and Edinburgh, and she actually seems like an interesting person.
‘Are you from London originally, Amanda?’ I asked, because her cockney twang placed her as clearly as if she’d been wearing a pearly queen jacket.
‘Through and through,’ she grinned. ‘Although you wouldn’t know it when I’m on set. My character, Daisy, is as Scottish as heather and shortbread, hen.’ She slipped seamlessly into a thick Scottish burr, convincing enough to make me laugh despite myself.
‘Wow, that’s really good,’ I said.
‘Practice makes perfect,’ she said with a shrug. She went on to tell me about some of the auditions she’s been on recently – I never realized it was such hard work to be an actress. Perhaps she’ll be good for Jack. She clearly has an idea of what she wants, and isn’t afraid to work hard to get it.
Up to today I hadn’t really registered her as being all that important in Jack’s life. But now that I’ve met her, I’m finding her harder to dismiss. Not that I want to; it’s just a jolt to see him with someone like her. Someone who might actually be relevant to his future. It’s just … I don’t know. It’s something I can’t quite put into words; like I never imagined his life in Scotland becoming his life for ever. I want him to be happy, of course I do, it’s just a bit of a surprise. That’s the word. She’s surprised me.
I smile at the pink-cheeked waitress who appears and places my main course down in front of me. ‘Thank you, it looks delicious.’
Jack does the same, and while we wait for someone to appear with the salmon they’re hastily preparing for Amanda, he nods across the room to the wine waitress to swing back his way.
Jack
I feel a bit bad for saying yes to dessert when Amanda is so tough on herself about being sugar-free, but it’s some kind of chocolate-three-ways thing and I’ve had too much wine to summon the willpower to refuse. She excuses herself from the table for a breath of air, leaving me and Laurie to stuff our faces.
‘Amanda seems nice,’ she says.
I nod. ‘She’s a good girl.’
Laurie doesn’t seem as impressed with her pudding as I am. She’s eating around the edges, picking at it. ‘You’ve been together for a while now, haven’t you?’
‘Six months or so.’ It’s probably a few more than that; I still haven’t quite forgiven myself for listening to Laurie’s distressed message about her dad with Amanda’s hand around my cock. We met at a friend of a friend’s engagement party – there tends to be an overlap between TV and radio, the circles are surprisingly small, especially in Edinburgh. She looked as if she wanted to be there as much as I did and we got talking, and one thing led to another. I wasn’t expecting it to be anything more than casual, but somehow she seems to have become part of my life.
‘Is it serious?’
I stop eating and look at Laurie. ‘You sound like my mother.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘I was only asking.’
‘I like her a lot. She knows what she wants, and we have fun together.’
We lapse into silence, and I wash my pudding down with wine.
‘How’s married life?’
She pushes her dessert plate away half eaten and draws her wine glass towards her. ‘Good. Frustrating sometimes with Oscar being away so much, but yeah.’ She laughs lightly and shrugs. ‘Sorry. Smug marrieds.’
‘They’ll be next,’ I say to change the subject, nodding towards Sarah and Luke at the next table. Laurie follows my gaze, thoughtful.
‘Do you ever regret not staying together?’
I don’t have to think twice. ‘God, no. Look at her. She can’t keep the smile off her face. She never looked like that when she was with me.’
Laurie’s eyes are still on Sarah. ‘I just wish they’d stay here. I’m going to miss her so much.’ She drains her glass. ‘Where’s the waitress? I need another.’
I think I might have had a glass too many. I’m not falling-down drunk, but I’m definitely not sober either. We moved into the function room a while back; there’s a band on, playing the usual slightly too loud party covers. I reach up and adjust the small hearing aid I was fitted with when I finally got my act together and saw a specialist. I hadn’t been in Scotland all that long; moving away was the right thing for my health, both physical and mental.
Amanda’s disappeared off to take a call outside, and Laurie’s dancing with Luke a few feet away. I say dancing, but it’s closer to acrobatics; he’s throwing her around until she’s breathless with laughter.
‘Hey, Fred Astaire,’ I say, ambling over when the band finally change tack to something more mellow. ‘I can see now why Sarah’s so smitten.’
‘That woman is my heart,’ he says emphatically. I’m sure it’s the several beers he’s had, but his eyes definitely well up. I shake his hand; there will always be a strange link between us. He was the first person on the scene of my accident, and even though I can’t recall events clearly, I have a memory of him crouching beside me. And now he’s with Sarah, and it might have been odd but it isn’t, because they’re so obviously made for each other. I don’t know him all that well, but it seems like he’s solid gold.
‘Take good care of her for us,’ I say. ‘Mind if I cut in?’
He twirls Laurie round one last time and dips her over his arm. ‘She’s all yours, mate.’
She raises her eyebrows at Luke. ‘Do I get any say in this?’
He winks and kisses her cheek. ‘Sorry, Laurie; I should go and check on the wife anyway.’ He grins at me as he walks away.
Laurie stands in front of me. She’s bright-eyed and flushed. She looks more like she used to, happy and carefree.
‘Dance with me, Lu? For old times’ sake?’
Laurie
I don’t know what to say, because I want to say yes. Or rather, a small part of me wants to. The greater, more sensible part of me knows that Jack is a place I shouldn’t go. Especially when I’ve lost count of the glasses of wine I’ve drunk.
‘Please?’
I glance around. ‘Where’s Amanda?’
He scrubs his hand over his hair and shrugs. ‘She went outside to make a call.’ He frowns. ‘Or take a call. She won’t mind.’
‘Sure?’
He laughs, as if it’s a stupid question. ‘She’s not a jealous psycho, Lu, she knows you’re one of my oldest friends.’
I can’t help smiling because his laugh has been missing from my life for so long. It’s late and the lights are low, and his green-gold eyes are the same green-gold eyes I looked into one December night from the top deck of a bus on Camden High Street. It seems like a lifetime ago. For that girl, I can’t say no.
‘Okay.’
He draws me against him, one hand warm round my waist, the other holding mine.
‘I can’t believe she’s actually leaving,’ I say. ‘It’s too far away.’
‘It’ll be okay,’ he says, quiet by my ear. ‘Nowhere’s that far away these days.’
‘But I can’t call Australia every day, and she’ll be so busy.’
‘Call me sometimes instead, then.’ He rests his chin on the top of my head.
This isn’t going to plan. I came here determined to be polite and civil to Jack if he was here tonight, nothing more and nothing less. Yet somehow I’m dancing with him, his hand rubbing up and down my spine, and time seems to have done something strange, because I’m not the Laurie I was a couple of hours ago. I’m the Laurie I was seven years ago. Oh, Oscar, why didn’t you come?
‘I remember you telling me once about the boy you danced with at the school disco,’ he says, low laughter in his throat. ‘Don’t go and headbutt me.’
I lay my cheek against his chest. ‘We’ve shared a lot over the years, haven’t we?’
‘Too much?’
I can’t answer him honestly, because what I’d have to say is yes, too much. You take up too much of my heart and it’s not fair on my husband.
‘Did you tell Sarah that I kissed you? Is that why she wasn’t at your wedding?’
I’ve always known he’d ask me this one day or another. There are very few good reasons why Sarah would miss my wedding, and he probably sussed that she didn’t have any family emergency.
‘Yes, but I didn’t say you did it, just that it happened.’ We turn slowly under the glittering low lights, pressed together from shoulder to hip. ‘I couldn’t lie to her face when she asked me.’
‘I lost you for a while afterwards.’ His breath warms my ear. ‘I hated it.’
He looks down at me, and then he lays his forehead against mine. There’s no one else in this room any more for me. He’s Jack O’Mara, and I’m Laurie James, and I close my eyes and remember us.
‘Do you think we were always destined to know each other?’ I say.
In my head I’m cresting the Ferris wheel with Jack beside me, our heads tipped back to look at the stars. Perhaps it’s the wine, but my stomach flips slowly as he laughs quietly against my ear.
‘I don’t know if I believe in all that destiny stuff, Lu, but I’ll always be glad you’re in my life.’
He looks down into my eyes and his mouth is so close I can feel his breath on my lips. I ache.
‘Me too,’ I whisper. ‘Even though being with you is hard on my heart sometimes.’
It’s difficult to read the look in his eyes. Regret, maybe?
‘Don’t,’ he says. ‘Don’t say any more.’ He brushes my hair behind my ear, probably so I can hear him more clearly, but what it actually does is bring his lips heart-stoppingly close to my skin. ‘We’ve both got too much to lose.’
‘I know,’ I say, and I do. God knows I do. I’m lonely so much of the time, but Oscar’s continued absences are no justification for crossing lines that should never be crossed with a wedding ring on your hand.
‘We’re not kids any more,’ Jack says, his thumb circling slowly on the base of my back. ‘You’re Oscar’s wife. I watched you marry him, Laurie.’
I try to recapture the feeling of my wedding day, but all my treacherous heart can conjure up is Jack’s speech.
‘Do you ever think what if …’ I stop, because his lips brush briefly against the skin beneath my ear as he bends his head to shush me. I’m shamed by the sharp twist of lust that stabs through me, all the way from my ear to the pit of my stomach. It takes my breath; I want him with a force that frightens me.
‘Of course I’ve wondered what if,’ he says, so low and intimate that his words slide straight into my veins. ‘But we know what if, Lu. We tried it once before, remember? We kissed and it made everything worse for both of us.’
‘Of course I remember,’ I breathe. I’ll remember to the day I die.
He adjusts our hands, his fingers warm around mine.
And then he looks down at me, and his eyes say all the things he cannot. His gaze holds mine as we dance slowly, and I silently tell him that I’ll always carry him in my heart, and he silently tells me that in another place, another time, we’d have been pretty damn close to perfect.
‘For what it’s worth –’ his hand slips into my hair and he strokes his thumb along my jaw – ‘and because we’re finally being honest with each other, you’re just about my favourite person in the world, and it was the single most spectacular kiss of my whole life.’
I’m lost. Lost in his words, and his arms, and in what might have been.
‘We could …’ I start, but I don’t say more, because we both know we can’t.
‘Don’t,’ he says. ‘We’re all where we should be.’
I start to cry; too much wine, too much emotion, too much of my life walking out the door tonight. He gathers me close and presses his lips to my ear.
‘Don’t cry,’ he says. ‘I love you, Laurie James.’
I look up, unsure how to read his words, and he looks away.
‘Jack?’
I turn at the sound of Amanda’s voice as she weaves towards us through the dancers.
‘Okay?’ She looks from Jack to me, eyebrows raised in enquiry, and I dash my hands across my wet cheeks.
‘Sorry. Emotional wreck,’ I gulp, shaky. ‘Ignore me, it’s the wine. I’m just upset about Sarah leaving.’ I glance quickly at Jack, not quite meeting his eyes. ‘Sorry about your damp shirt. Send me the dry-cleaning bill.’
Wearily, I let myself into the flat and strip off for bed. Considering the amount of wine I’ve had, I’m suddenly as sober as a judge. I’ve been over and over the things we said tonight, and I’m shamed by how easily the bedrock of my marriage crumbled under pressure. The truth is that I’ve walked around the edge of being in love with Jack for too many years. It’s made me realize something inevitable, something that’s been a long time coming: he and I would be better off without each other.
I need to unwind the roots of Jack O’Mara from my life. He’s too much a part of who I am, and me a part of him. The problem with uprooting things is that sometimes it kills them altogether, but that’s a risk I have to take. For the sake of my marriage; for the sake of all of us.