City of Second Chances

by Jane Lacey-Crane

  In the photograph, Daniel was reaching towards the camera lens as if trying to block the picture. He was wearing a baseball cap and dark glasses, but it was unmistakeably him. I couldn’t resist. I put down the armful of books I was holding and grabbed the magazine from the rack. I opened it up to find yet more pictures of Daniel. He’d been snapped walking through LAX, but the story didn’t give any details as to why he was there; the main focus of the article was Daniel’s so called ‘explosive reaction’ to having his picture taken. It didn’t look very explosive to me – it just looked like someone having a normal reaction to having an unwelcome camera lens shoved into their face. I looked down at my lilac pashmina and comfy travelling shoes – I didn’t think I’d want to be snapped in this outfit myself. I shuddered at the idea of having the press watching your every move, snapping pictures of you when you least expected it and generally getting into your personal space. I couldn’t imagine how Daniel must feel. Despite being a great performer, when it came to the Dan I remembered in real life, he was quite a private person, even a bit shy. Holding that magazine, looking at candid shots of him, made me feel grubby, and I quickly shoved it back onto the shelf.

  ‘Haven’t you made your mind up yet?’

  Rachel appeared at my shoulder and made me jump. ‘Bloody hell, you frightened the life out of me.’

  ‘Sorry. You weren’t planning on buying all of them, were you?’ She gestured to the pile of books I’d put down on the floor.

  ‘No. Yes. Maybe.’

  ‘You’re useless at making decisions, Evie.’

  This was very true, I could usually make procrastinating an Olympic event, but something about Rachel’s comment made my hackles rise a bit. I picked up the pile and shoved them all back onto the nearest shelf except one; I wasn’t even sure which one, but it didn’t matter. I had a point to prove.

  ‘I’m having this one,’ I announced triumphantly.

  ‘Great. Let’s pay up, then – we’ve got time to go to the Champagne Bar before we have to head to our gate.’ Rachel scurried off towards the exit and left me to pay for my one lonely paperback. On impulse, I picked up a couple of magazines – I avoided the one with Daniel on the cover – and a bar of chocolate; it was a tiny decision but a decision nonetheless. Every small victory deserves to be celebrated, I reasoned, so a visit to the Champagne Bar was certainly in order.

  I found Rachel already perched on a stool, with two glasses of champagne ready on the bar.

  ‘Cheers,’ she said, raising her glass.

  ‘Right back at ya!’ I replied, as I attempted to get my arse onto the stool next to her in what I hoped was a ladylike fashion.

  ‘This trip is going to be so much fun,’ she said, sipping her drink.

  I raised a questioning eyebrow.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘You haven’t forgotten the reason we’re making this trip, have you?’

  ‘No, of course not. It’s for Olivia. I get that.’ Rachel paused before carrying on. ‘It doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun, though, does it? Olivia wouldn’t want us moping around in the greatest city in the world just because of her.’

  I hate statements like that. I mean, who the bloody hell knows what the dead want? They’re dead. Well meaning people would say this to me all the time after Tom was killed. ‘He’d want you to find love again.’ ‘He’d want you to move on.’ All the same old crap that gets trotted out to the bereaved all the time. When I was finally sick of just quietly nodding I started to throw in the occasional, ‘Actually we made a pact that we would stay celibate for the rest of our lives if something ever happened to the other,’ or I would tell people that Tom’s last words were, ‘Stay true to me forever, Evie, and never love again.’ It used to freak the hell out of people; it probably sounds rather cruel but, to be honest, sometimes it would be all that would get me through the day. They wouldn’t know what to say for the best, so they’d usually mumble, ‘Well, that’s nice,’ and then leave me alone. Job done.

  ‘If it turns out that one of those poor people is Olivia,’ I said, ‘then we need to find some answers about what happened to her after she left the bar that night.’

  ‘Of course. Absolutely.’ She took another sip of her champagne, but she wouldn’t look at me.

  ‘That is why you wanted to come with me, isn’t it?’ I asked. ‘You seemed dead set on the idea of finding out what happened.’

  ‘And I am, I really am, but let’s just say that this trip came at the right time for other reasons too.’ She finished her drink and beckoned to the barman for another. ‘Do you want another?’ she asked. I shook my head. I’d barely had two sips from my glass. We waited in silence whilst the barman poured her another drink. Once he’d moved away, Rachel carried on.

  ‘Things have been a bit difficult between Martin and me lately. We’ve decided to treat this week as a chance to get a bit of space between us. To work out what we both want.’ Rachel had tears in her eyes; I grabbed a cocktail napkin and handed it to her. She dabbed her eyes and then took another drink. She gave me a weak smile.

  ‘Has something happened?’ I asked. If it had, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known anything about it. Rachel was my best friend; we told each other everything, or so I thought. ‘What’s brought all this on?’ I asked.

  Rachel and Martin had never been what you would call ‘Love’s Young Dream’ exactly. They’d only been dating for about six months when Rachel had discovered she was pregnant with their son, Sean. They’d had a quick ceremony in a register office, followed by a pub lunch for close friends and family, and that had been that. At the time I remembered Rachel had told me that it didn’t matter to her that they’d only known each other for a short time. ‘When you know, you just know.’ Before Martin, Rachel had been a bit of a wild one, and to be honest I was happy when he came along. He seemed to calm her down; she was less inclined to do stupid things.

  Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with a woman enjoying a rich and varied dating life – in fact, I’m envious of anyone who has. But with Rachel it was different; she would always be the one to push it too far. She’d got herself into some quite dangerous situations over the years, ending up in random places with men she hardly knew, doing things I know she regrets now. But with Martin all that stopped. She’d had a baby, she had a husband who adored her and a nice life. So, what had gone wrong?

  ‘There was – is – someone else,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Oh, Rachel, no. Why would you do that? Martin loves you,’ I said.

  She laughed out loud. ‘Ha! You assume it’s me? Thanks, honey.’

  I couldn’t believe it. Not Martin. ‘Martin cheated on you?’

  She nodded. ‘I know. Crazy, isn’t it?’

  I felt awful. I reached out and took her hand. ‘Rachel, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed like that.’

  She patted my hand. ‘It’s fine. If I was you, I’d have done the same thing. Let’s face it, I was the one with the dodgy past, the need for excitement. Not Martin. Solid, dependable, salt-of-the-earth Martin.’ She started to cry again, so I hopped down off my stool and put my arms around her.

  ‘Who is she?’ I asked.

  ‘Her name is Maggie,’ she mumbled into my shoulder. ‘She works in his office. She’s an accountant, Evie,’ she wailed. I wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything, but it seemed important to her, so I kept quiet. She pulled herself out of my arms and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

  ‘How long has he been seeing her?’

  ‘It’s not like that. They’ve worked together for about six years, but he says they’ve only slept together once. It happened a few months ago, at a conference they both attended.’

  ‘What a bastard!’ The last time I’d seen Martin had been about a month ago. He and Rachel had come to my house for dinner and he’d been so, well, normal. How dared he? I was outraged. He’d eaten my home-made hummus, stuffed his face with my lamb tagine, and given no indicati
on of what a lying twat he was.

  ‘I don’t know what to do, Evie.’

  I imagined Martin in his brown cords and slightly scruffy jumpers, with his receding hairline and the beginnings of a pot belly. They were an unlikely pair, it was true; Rachel was loud and energetic, whereas Martin was always much more reserved. But they’d always seemed like a perfect fit despite all their obvious differences.

  ‘He doesn’t deserve you,’ I said.

  ‘I can’t blame him entirely. I’m a nightmare to live with. You can’t imagine what he’s had to put up with,’ Rachel replied, sadly.

  ‘You can stop that shit right now,’ I said. ‘There’s no excuse for what he’s done. You can’t blame yourself. Isn’t that what you’d say to your clients if they were in a similar situation?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course I would, but it’s different when you’re the one in the middle of it. And do you know the worst part?’

  ‘No, what?’

  ‘When he told me what had happened I was upset, who wouldn’t be? But I wasn’t entirely surprised. It had a weird inevitability about it.’

  ‘You can’t mean that.’

  Rachel nodded. ‘I love him, and I know he loves me, but if I’m being totally honest we haven’t been happy for a while now. We’re more like flatmates than husband and wife. We’ve fallen into a pattern, one that we’ve both been content with. Until this.’

  ‘What are you going to do, then?’ I asked.

  ‘Take some time apart, see what happens, I guess. That’s why I was so happy to come on this trip, to be honest. Maybe the time apart will do us some good. Who knows?’

  ‘Does Sean know about any of this?’

  Rachel laughed. ‘Ha! He doesn’t ever come out of his room, so I doubt it. He’s always got his headphones on, playing his computer games or whatever he does in there. I shudder to think sometimes.’

  The PA system blared into life, announcing that our flight had started boarding.

  ‘That’s us,’ I said, picking up my bag. ‘We can talk some more on the plane.’

  Rachel finished her drink and then stood. ‘Do you mind if we don’t? Let’s talk about something else. I’m sick of thinking about it all, to be honest. I want to take my mind off it. Just for a bit.’

  I nodded. ‘Whatever you need. Here, this is for you.’ I reached down into my bag and pulled out a copy of Hello! magazine. ‘You can tell me which celeb is shagging who.’

  Rachel took the magazine and then pulled me into a hug. ‘Thank you, Evie.’

  ‘After everything you’ve done for me over the years, I’d say it’s the least I can do. Now let’s go before they leave without us.’ I linked arms with my best friend and we skipped – yes, that’s right, skipped – to our departure gate like two happy schoolgirls. Suddenly, this trip had become about more than just Olivia; it was now a mission to help both of us find a new path forward in our lives. This new path had better involve cocktails, I told myself, lots and lots of cocktails!

  Eight

  ‘Rachel?’ I nudged my friend gently with my shoulder. The only response I got was a light gurgling snore. She’d taken some travel sickness pills, washed down with another glass of champagne, and had fallen asleep about half an hour into the flight. ‘Rachel?’ I nudged her a bit harder but all she did was snuggle further down under her complimentary blanket.

  Great, only another seven and a half hours to go, then. I pulled my book out of the seat pocket in front and started to read but it was pointless; I couldn’t concentrate on the words. After about four pages, I gave up. I shoved the book back into the pocket in front and let out a frustrated huff. The man sitting next to me, currently hogging all the armrest, stopped chuckling at the movie he was watching and let out a massive sneeze. He pulled a hanky out of his pocket and blew his nose. I angled my body towards Rachel in an effort to avoid a face full of germs, and as I did I heard something crinkling between our seats. I reached down and retrieved one of the magazines I’d bought at the airport. I scanned the headlines on the front page; they were either decrying celebrities for their disastrous attempts at plastic surgery or criticising the ones that looked fairly normal for not succumbing to the surgeon’s knife. It appeared that the poor buggers couldn’t win, whatever they did. I remembered the pictures of Daniel in the magazine I’d picked up at the airport and wondered how it made him feel to be portrayed as just a face, with everyone having an opinion of you based on a snapshot. That wasn’t any kind of life; or not one I would have wanted to be part of. Looking back on it now, his leaving when he did was probably for the best.

  *

  I saw him before he saw me; I watched him stuffing books and papers into his backpack. He’d missed a few days of college and only I knew why; he’d been in London, auditioning for a part in a play. He’d told me a few weeks before that his old agent had been in touch, from his days as a child actor, and suggested he might be perfect for one of the parts. Daniel had jumped at the chance, but he’d had to keep it quiet since his parents would not have approved.

  ‘I promised them I’d give this A levels thing a go. They seem to think I should have some proper qualifications in case the acting career doesn’t happen.’

  We’d been sitting in the canteen, sharing a plate of cheesy chips, when he’d told me how much he wanted to audition for the play.

  ‘You should go for it, Dan. Don’t let them stop you if this is what you want to do.’

  ‘It is, Evie, it really is. This could be a really good move for me. They’ve got some famous American actor playing the lead, so the production’s going to get a lot of attention. And the part I’m auditioning for is a fairly important one.’

  ‘Sounds like a no-brainer to me,’ I said, stuffing a chip into my mouth to try and hide the slight edge of sadness in my voice. I knew he’d get the part, he was too good not to, but I also knew what it would mean for us.

  And I’d been right. As I approached him in the college corridor that day, as he emptied his locker for the last time, I knew this would be the beginning of the end.

  ‘Well?’ I said, in an overly chirpy voice.

  He turned and gave me the brightest smile I’d ever seen. He grabbed my arms and pulled me close to him, and then he kissed me. Instinctively, my arms went up around his neck and we stayed that way until someone shouted, ‘That’s gross. Get a room!’ Daniel pulled his mouth away from mine and grinned.

  ‘I got it! I got the part!’

  ‘That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you, Dan. When do you start?’

  ‘Rehearsals start next week, so I’ve got to go and see the Dean and tell him I’m leaving.’

  ‘What about your mum and dad?’ I asked, stepping out of his arms slightly. I needed to put some distance between us if I was going to be able to focus on what I needed to say.

  ‘They’ve been brilliant. I told them everything and they said it was my life. That if I thought this was the best thing to do then I should do it.’ His eyes were shining with excitement. His enthusiasm was infectious; how could I not be overjoyed for him? This was the best thing that could have happened to him.

  ‘I’m so pleased for you, Dan, I really am.’

  ‘You don’t look pleased. Is everything all right?’ He stepped closer and tried to take my hand, but I moved out of his reach.

  ‘I’m fine, I just have to get to a lecture, that’s all. I’ll catch up with you later. Congratulations again though,’ I said, walking backwards down the hall.

  ‘Wait, Evie, don’t go. We should talk.’

  ‘What’s there to talk about? This is great news. I’m going to miss you but… well… I’ll be fine.’

  ‘What do you mean you’re going to miss me? The play’s in London, not Outer Mongolia. We’ll still see each other.’

  I sighed. ‘Maybe. But you’re going to be busy, I’m busy with college. Let’s not make any promises, eh? Let’s just see what happens.’

  ‘No, I don’t want to do that. Evie, I care about you. I won’
t do this if it means the end of us.’

  ‘Dan, that’s daft. We’ve only been together a few weeks. You can’t pass up a chance like this just because of me.’

  ‘I thought this was going somewhere, you and me. You’re special, Evie, I need you.’ He looked confused and hurt but I had my speech all prepared. Like a well-rehearsed monologue. I’d gone over and over it in my head.

  ‘You don’t need me. You know exactly where you’re going. I don’t. I’m just stumbling along trying to figure stuff out, having some laughs with my mates. I don’t have a grand plan for my life, but you do. And it’s wonderful and I won’t be the one that screws that up for you. You have to go, you have to do this. And as for us, I think you and I both know what’s going to happen. Eventually it’ll start to fizzle out, you’ll be too busy, I’ll be too busy, and after a few weeks it will come to an end and we might even end up resenting each other. I don’t want that.’

  ‘What are you saying, then?’

  ‘I’m saying you should go and do the play, be an actor, follow your plan. But not with me.’

  ‘Evie, please, don’t say that.’

  I forced a bright smile. ‘It’s fine, Dan, honestly. Our timing is just crappy. It wasn’t meant to be.’ I started to walk away but then I stopped. Turning back to face him, I reached up to kiss him on the cheek, but it was his turn to pull away.

  ‘Don’t. That’ll just give me hope that you might change your mind.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I really am. Good luck with everything,’ I mumbled, and I made it down the corridor and around the corner before I started to cry.

  *

  Sitting in that cramped aeroplane cabin, I was surprised by how much of that last meeting I remembered. Daniel’s play had been a big success and then it had transferred to Broadway and that had been that. He’d been off and running, and, though I would admit to the occasional wistful thought of what might have been, I knew it had been the right decision.

  *

  By the time Rachel and I arrived at JFK, my stress levels had reached their peak. The flight had lasted for eight of the longest hours of my life, and I say that as a woman who has endured ten hour labours with both of my children. Without the joy of being upgraded to First Class, like the last time we’d made this trip, we’d spent the flight squeezed between two passengers who both seemed to want to achieve the world record for most coughs and sneezes in a confined space. At one stage I was convinced that Rachel was going to totally lose it, after her repeated requests to the child behind her to stop kicking her chair went completely unheeded. So, we were already feeling less than cheerful by the time the plane came in to land. Our mood wasn’t helped by the severe cross winds that accompanied the landing, causing the plane to drop suddenly and to swing wildly from side to side. By the time I felt the thud of the plane touching down, I was convinced I’d died and gone to hell and Rachel looked as if she was about to throw up.