by Lindsey Kelk
I banged on the door until it flew open, a fresh-faced Jenny on the other side. She pushed past me, an easy smile on her face as though the last two minutes hadn’t happened.
‘Jesus, Angie, what’s wrong with you?’
‘Why is there a needle in your bin?’
Jenny stopped in her tracks, frozen still with her back to me.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she replied without turning round.
‘OH, ALL RIGHT,’ I said in a very loud voice that could possibly have been considered shouting. ‘I must have imagined it. Shall we empty the bin out and have another look?’
I dashed at the bin but not before Jenny intercepted me, pushing me onto her sofa and jumping on my back, leaving me face to face with the stray pair of knickers.
‘Let go, let go!’ I begged. ‘I don’t know if you wore those or not but this is gross.’
With an exasperated sigh, Jenny rolled off my back and onto a huge pile of Précis-branded towels at the other end of the settee.
‘Please don’t jump on my back again,’ I said, slowly sitting up and chucking her knickers on the floor. ‘But you’ve got to tell me why there’s a needle in your bin.’
‘You’re gonna be mad because I didn’t talk to you about it, but it’s really no big deal,’ she said, dropping her head against the back of the settee. ‘Mason and I are trying for a baby.’
I squealed so loudly, she actually had to cover her ears.
‘No big deal? Jenny, that’s a huge deal! I’m so happy, it’s brilliant news,’ I shrieked, rolling on top of her in a half-hug, half-human-blanket situation. And then I realized what she was saying. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Things haven’t been as easy as we’d hoped,’ Jenny’s voice was too quiet and precariously soft. I sat myself upright as she pulled up her T-shirt to reveal a swollen, bruised belly. ‘So we’re doing the IVF thing.’
I didn’t quite know what to say. I hadn’t seen her in a bikini this whole trip, she hadn’t had so much of a sniff of booze here, or at Delia’s birthday party or at that ridiculous fish restaurant, and I wasn’t sure if this was why she hadn’t bothered with the horses, but, either way, I couldn’t blame her.
‘Hurts like a bitch,’ she said as she traced the blossoming yellow bruise on her normally taut stomach. ‘And I still have another week to go. Twelve thousand bucks and we don’t even know if it’ll work.’
Jenny was trying to get pregnant. Jenny was doing IVF. What I wanted to say was, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ but I knew this was not the time.
‘I’m sure you’re doing everything right,’ I said instead, stroking her hair back from her face as new tears appeared. ‘Are you seeing Dr Laura?’
She nodded. ‘She’s been amazing. Anyone else would have told us to keep trying for another six months but I knew something wasn’t right and she ran all the tests right away.’
Carefully, I pulled a rustling chocolate bar wrapper out from underneath and dropped it over the side of the settee, praying it was clean before I sat on it.
‘It’s Mason. He has “low sperm motility” and, man, if I didn’t want to make a thousand jokes,’ she added with a weak smile. ‘It’s, like, the only thing he has not found funny in the entire time I’ve known him.’
‘I can see why,’ I said. ‘Oh, Jen, this must have been so hard for both of you.’
‘I know you won’t say anything but please don’t say anything,’ she pleaded, wiping her face and taking a breath. ‘I wanted to tell you so bad but Mason is still being weird about it and don’t be mad but I was kind of jealous that you got pregnant so easy and, fuck, I feel so stupid saying that out loud. It’s the hormones, right? It’s got to be the hormones.’
‘The great thing about this is you can blame literally everything on the hormones for months,’ I replied, mustering a real smile for her and remembering what Louisa had said to me on the beach. ‘And you don’t need to feel guilty for feeling the way you feel. You can tell me anything, I won’t judge and I won’t share it with a soul.’
Yanking her shirt back down, she pulled up the leg of her shorts to reveal another big bruise. ‘It’s gross, right?’
‘That’s exactly what my arse looks like,’ I promised without offering to share the proof. ‘I will never forgive you for putting me on that horse.’
‘I’m so sorry, babe,’ Jenny said, laughing a lot louder than necessary. ‘Wow, that feels good. Mason is gonna be so mad but I’m so glad I told you. I’m sorry, I totally tried to gaslight you. I was avoiding you but I promised him I wouldn’t say anything. This is why I was so stressed about this trip and Erin going away. We already started treatment, how can I take over the company for a year if I’m pregnant?’
‘Did she tell you about Thomas?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘I threatened to rip his dick off.’
‘And what did she say to that?’
‘Erin?’ she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. That’s what I said to Thomas.’
Jenny never had been one to beat around the bush.
‘Erin aside, would you want to take over the company?’
She pinched her shoulders together before letting them drop, her face uncertain.
‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m good at my job and the money is nice and the perks are awesome but it isn’t what I’d wanted to do.’
‘No,’ I replied. ‘You wanted to be Oprah.’
If I’d been talking to anyone else, I’d have sounded like I was taking the piss but this was my real-life fairy godmother, Jenny Lopez. There was nothing she couldn’t do if she put her mind to it.
‘It’s not like I’m not happy.’ She turned her face away to look out the window and I couldn’t work out if she was trying to convince me or herself. ‘But it gets to a point where I can’t stand the thought of spending my life selling another shitty mascara to women who do not need another shitty mascara. And yes, I’m talking about the shitty mascara that is all over my face right now.’
‘So glad we came all the way to Hawaii for you to tell me how great it is,’ I said, waiting to see if there was anything else she wanted to say.
‘It fucking sucks,’ Jenny declared, turning back towards me with zebra stripes down her cheeks. ‘And I hate it.’
‘Plus there’s your podcast,’ I reminded her, reaching for a pack of makeup wipes from on her coffee table. ‘Did you manage to get in touch with the podcast people?’
‘You’re making fun of me but I did,’ she replied with a sniff. ‘And you’re right, there is my podcast. And hope against hope, a baby. But I don’t want to let Erin down, she’s going through so much.’
‘We’re all going through so much,’ I told her firmly. ‘Erin wouldn’t want you to be unhappy.’
Jenny nodded even if she didn’t look as though she believed me.
‘Will you be my first guest?’ she asked, her eyes lighting up for the first time in days. ‘We can tell my listeners how we met and how you’re super inspirational and how you broke that guy’s hand and how you run your own website and everything.’
‘Maybe we’ll leave the part about the hand out,’ I suggested. ‘But yes, of course, I would love that.’
It was a lie, I couldn’t think of anything worse, but I badly wanted to be a good friend and I didn’t know what else to do.
‘It’s still crazy to me that you have a kid,’ she said with a sigh, collapsing against me, her curls tickling my nose. ‘I don’t mean that in a bad way. I think you’re an amazing mom. It’s just I forget and then I remember and my brain can’t always process it.’
‘That’s funny,’ I replied, smiling. ‘That’s exactly how I feel. Apart from the amazing bit. Pretty sure an amazing mum doesn’t nip off to Hawaii for the weekend.’
‘I’m pretty sure any mom that could, would,’ Jenny corrected with a laugh before lowering her voice to a more curious tone. ‘What’s it like?’
‘Being a mum?’
‘Yeah.’
/> ‘It’s really hard,’ I said, trying to think of something honest but encouraging that covered every emotion and experience I’d been through in the last twenty months. ‘And it’s not anything like I thought it would be. I’m in love with her. When I’m holding Al and I look at her and she looks back at me, it’s everything. Even if it’s only for a moment, which it usually is because she’ll be screaming blue murder ten seconds later, but it’s a completely different feeling to anything else in the world. It’s amazing and terrifying, all at once.’
‘Kinda sounds like this one time I did mushrooms in the desert,’ Jenny said with a happy sigh. ‘I was convinced I’d turned into a cat and, I gotta tell you, it was scary but I was pretty happy at the same time.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed, plucking a wipe from the packet and cleaning her cheeks. ‘That’s definitely a good story to tell when we’re discussing parenting.’
‘I’m so glad we talked about it,’ she said, brown eyes glassy with tears again. But this time they looked like happy tears. ‘I’m excited but I’m so afraid I’m gonna fuck it up.’
‘There you go,’ I replied, folding her into a hug. ‘Not even knocked up yet and already a natural. You’re both going to be brilliant.’
And of that, I was sure.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When Jenny had to leave to set up for our farewell dinner, I didn’t want to waste a single second. Laptop under my arm, I set off for the only place on the entire estate where I wouldn’t have my door knocked down by my friends, be thrown in a swimming pool or accidentally adopt seventeen kittens. Jane Bennett’s garden.
But I wasn’t the only one who was looking for some peace and quiet.
‘Oh, sorry,’ I said as I opened the door and spotted someone sitting at the back of the garden. ‘I didn’t know anyone was in here.’
The garden’s lone resident was an old gent I hadn’t seen before. He raised a hand in greeting, his three-piece suit, white hair and white beard seeming quite at odds with his exotic surroundings. He looked exactly like Father Christmas if he was about to give away his daughter at her wedding. Miracle on Hala Lanai.
‘Not at all,’ the man said, rising to his feet and waving me inside. ‘Please come on in. I was just leaving. I’ve told them not to keep this place locked up when we’ve got guests. Janey would have wanted you all to visit.’
Even though I very much felt as though I was intruding, I stepped into the garden, so curious. He was so familiar but I just couldn’t place him.
‘Yes, yes. My Janey loved showing off her garden. I remember once, she gave Stevie Nicks some cuttings to take home with her,’ he chuckled to himself as he strode over to hold out his hand. ‘Got the poor girl in all kinds of trouble at the airport. No one would believe it was just a piece of a ginger plant. Can’t think why. Nice to meet you. I’m Al.’
‘Angela,’ I said, shaking his hand. Good, solid handshake, hearty smile and he smelled excellent, like a very classy granddad who might have popped by the aftershave counter in House of Fraser on his way to your house. ‘My daughter’s name is Al.’
‘Really?’ he asked, crumpling up his already weatherworn features. ‘Well, anything goes these days, I suppose.’
‘Short for Alice,’ I corrected myself with a laugh. ‘I call her Al but it’s actually Alice.’
‘Ahh, I see,’ he nodded. ‘Al’s an abbreviation for myself as well. It says Albert on the old birth certificate. Emphasis on old.’
A huge sunny smile took over his face and all the years fell away. I knew who he was at once.
‘Albert,’ I said slowly, everything finally making sense. ‘Oh god, of course. You’re Bertie Bennett?’
‘Guilty as charged,’ he said with a short, stiff bow.
‘Oh my god,’ I gasped, placing my laptop on the floor. Bertie Bennett. I was in the presence of a bona fide legend. All the stories I’d heard about him came rushing back and I took another look, picturing the hair and beard as chestnut brown and imagining Debbie Harry on his shoulders. Yep, definitely him. ‘I’m so excited to meet you. Thank you so much for having us. Your house is incredible.’
He waved away my fussing with a jovial smile and sat back down in the deckchair. I folded myself up on the floor in front of him, legs crossed as though I was waiting for storytime. Which I was.
‘Apologies for not introducing myself earlier,’ said Al. ‘Your little troop seemed as though you were having such fun.’
‘I’ve had an amazing time,’ I confirmed. ‘I don’t know how you ever bring yourself to leave.’
‘That’s what I’m trying to muster the courage to do right now. You caught me on my way out. I have to fly to Milan this evening, I’m afraid,’ Al replied, looking none too happy about it. ‘Duty calls. Although if I recall my flight plan exactly, it’s Honolulu, New York and then Milan. Which is why I don’t get back here as often as I used to. Too much buggering around for an old goat like me.’
‘Not so old,’ I said with a smile he returned and raised with a laugh. There was even more to notice in the garden this time around, tiny birds darting around from tree to tree, butterflies hovering above the colourful plants. ‘Although I would think the best course of action would be not to leave in the first place, then you wouldn’t have to come back.’
Al nodded, reaching up to rub the petal of a pale orange plant between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Very tempting, very tempting,’ he said, plucking the petal and popping it in his breast pocket. ‘We bought this spot a very long time ago, back when most of the island was a pineapple plantation, but now Janey’s gone and I’m at work again, it’s a little much. Between this place and the house in Oahu, there aren’t enough months in the year for me to make the most of them both.’
‘Oh,’ I replied with wide eyes. He had two Hawaiian houses? I was definitely in the wrong job. ‘Must be a nightmare.’
‘We all have our cross to bear,’ he said, laughing. ‘Oahu is more of a home, this is the fantasy spot. It’s easy to lose yourself in a place like this, you forget about the rest of the world very quickly. Makes it very dangerous.’
‘And that’s before you take into account runaway horses and piña coladas,’ I commented. ‘But it really is such a beautiful place. Surely someone would bite your hand off for it?’
‘Know anyone?’ he asked, one eyebrow arched.
I shook my head. ‘Not personally but have you heard of a man called Bill Gates? I hear he’s got a bob or two going spare.’
‘Yes, I suppose. The last time he made me an offer, I wasn’t ready to let it go but perhaps you’re right.’
‘Come again?’ I did a double-take as Al gave his beard a good, contemplative scratch.
Pushing himself up and out of the deckchair, he turned away and strolled towards a sturdy-looking tree with long, curving limbs that swept down towards the grass before reaching upwards. Carefully, he sat back down on one of the lowest branches, testing its strength before committing to a proper sit.
‘Tell me about yourself, Angela Clark,’ Al said from his seat in the tree. Between the beard and the suit and the unreal backdrop, it was like something out of Mary Poppins. Original more than the remake, although I thought that was good too. ‘What do you do?’
‘I’m a writer?’ I replied, following him down the lawn.
Al frowned and rapped his knuckles against the trunk of the tree.
‘You don’t sound entirely sure about that.’
‘No, I definitely am,’ I said, rubbing my thumb against the back of my engagement ring. ‘I write for a website called Recherché. My website, actually. And I’m working on a book.’
‘That’s very exciting,’ he said. ‘What’s the book about?’
I looked down at my laptop and frowned. ‘Haven’t got that far yet,’ I admitted. ‘Any ideas?’
Al made a huffing sound and scratched at his chin under his beard.
‘You’re writing a book but you don’t know what the book is about?’
I
confirmed with a sharp nod.
‘Then why are you writing a book?’
‘It’s complicated,’ I said, a tight feeling spreading across my chest when I thought about my impending, unrequested deadline. ‘But someone I don’t know very well thought they were doing me a favour and told a publisher I did have an idea and now they want to see my proposal and, well, I was hoping I’d have come up with something by now.’
His bushy eyebrows rose slowly as he took it all in. ‘That’s a very big favour from someone you don’t know very well. You must have made quite an impression on them.’
‘She’s part of this very exclusive parenting group,’ I explained. ‘And they want me to join. I think she thinks this will persuade me.’
‘Do you want to write a book?’ asked Al.
‘I do,’ I replied. ‘I’ve always wanted to.’
‘Then what’s stopping you from wanting to join this woman’s group?’
I plucked a blade of grass and began tearing it up into tiny pieces. ‘That’s even more complicated than the book itself,’ I laughed. ‘I don’t think it’s for me. All the members are either rich or powerful or they have incredible jobs and they’re all gorgeous and they all live in Brooklyn and they hang out with celebrities and—’
‘Where do you live, Angela?’
I paused and cleared my throat.
‘Brooklyn.’
‘And didn’t I see that actor chap is with you all this weekend?’
‘He’s an old friend?’ I muttered.
‘Ah, I see,’ Al replied. ‘Now, I haven’t delved into your finances or realms of professional influence, but it sounds to me as though you’re rather successful in your own right, are you not?’
I didn’t bother to answer that one because I had an idea of where he was going.
‘Perhaps this group want you to join because they think you’d be a good fit,’ he suggested. ‘They clearly think a lot of you or they wouldn’t have asked you to join, now would they?’
I’d been intimidated by Perry Dickson and her immaculately groomed lackeys from the moment she’d opened her front door but I hadn’t once asked myself why.