Megan smiled but said nothing and the silence that followed grew uncomfortable.
Suddenly, Beth gave a dramatic sigh. ‘Okay, when are you going to tell us what this is all about? It’s not like you to be so mysterious.’
Megan held her glass to her lips. Maybe it would be easier to tell them now and get it over with. She looked at them over the rim. Such good-looking women, how did she ever end up being friends with them? She was willing to risk losing their friendship to save her relationship with Trudy, but it wasn’t something she wanted to do. Would they forgive her for lying? No, she wouldn’t tell them yet, it would be better to wait and spend some time together first, perhaps to remind them why they’d become friends in the first place. ‘In good time,’ she said finally, ‘don’t go all detective on me.’
Beth held out her empty glass. ‘I am a detective; mysteries don’t sit well with me.’
‘Everything will be revealed soon,’ Megan said, picking up the bottle, filling Beth’s glass, and holding it out towards Joanne who looked the epitome of cool relaxation, legs crossed, silk blouse open just enough to show the lacy border of her bra. Megan filled her glass, topped up her own and set the empty bottle down. ‘Maybe I should have asked for two bottles,’ she said with a chuckle.
‘I brought a bottle,’ Beth said, surprising them. ‘It’s in the car, I’ll go and get it and stick it into the ice to cool.’ Putting down her glass, she headed out.
Megan felt Joanne’s eyes on her and fiddled with the stem of her glass. She took another sip, waiting for her to say something.
‘I do wish you’d tell us what this is all about,’ Joanne said softly, a worried frown creasing her forehead. ‘It’s not like you to be so cagey.’
Megan felt a band of stress tighten around her head. Perhaps she should tell her, then tell Beth later. Perhaps, she shouldn’t tell either of them. She was still trying to decide what to do when Beth’s return made the decision for her. She gave Joanne a quick smile, and shook her head. No, she’d stick to her carefully laid plan.
Luckily, Beth’s performance in opening the bottle lightened the mood. Megan and Joanne chuckling at her exaggerated antics. It was Cava, not champagne, Megan noticed, as the cork popped. She didn’t care; if she had a choice, she’d prefer Prosecco any day but she knew Joanne preferred what she considered to be the real thing.
‘I know, I know,’ Beth said, holding the bottle out for Joanne to see. ‘It’s Cava, but this is nice, seriously.’
If Joanne had any reservations, she kept them to herself, and Megan noticed she didn’t refuse the refill. Eyes were raised, however, when she refused another drink.
‘Come on, lightweight,’ Beth said, wiggling the bottle.
Megan would have liked nothing better than to get smashed and forget all about her dirty little secret but she shook her head. ‘No thanks, I’ve had enough for the mo. When you’re finished, we’ll be heading out and I need to drive.’ She smiled at their astonishment. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve dinner booked in the restaurant here for later, I’ll have a few glasses of wine then.’
‘How much later?’ Beth asked. ‘I haven’t had any lunch.’
When Megan said the table was booked for nine, Beth groaned and reached a hand for one of the bowls of nuts. ‘I suppose this will have to keep me going.’
A sudden squeal from Joanne made the other women jump.
‘Bloody hell,’ Beth said, brushing spilled Cava from one leg and wiping her hand on the other.
‘Sorry,’ Joanne said, grabbing a napkin from the tray and handing it to her before turning her attention back to Megan. ‘I suddenly remembered. Show us,’ she said, holding out her hand.
Confused, Megan looked from Joanne to Beth, blinking rapidly. ‘Show you what?’
‘The ring!’
Megan had been so stressed about her strained relationship with Trudy and this meeting that she’d forgotten her two friends hadn’t seen her engagement ring. She gave a gurgle of laughter and held her left hand forward before sliding it off her finger to allow them to try it on, and ooh and ahh over how lovely it was. They demanded to know the details of the wedding, both looking astounded when she had to admit that, as yet, there were none to share.
‘It’s early days,’ she explained. Later, of course, they’d know the truth.
‘We’ll be your bridesmaids,’ Joanne insisted, and for the next few minutes the discussion was on possible venues and what they would all wear.
Listening to them talk, enjoying their enthusiasm, Megan felt the bitter bite of regret. If only everything could stay like this.
The conversation drifted from weddings and venues to gossip about mutual friends as they worked their way through the bottle of Cava. Megan watched its level drop slowly, wanting to ask them to drink faster, knowing she wouldn’t. She tried to keep up with the conversation, but kept slipping out of it into the one she’d rehearsed in her head so many times over the last few hours.
At last, the bottle was empty. As they drained the final drop from their glasses, she stood so abruptly their eyebrows shot up and she watched as they exchanged concerned looks.
‘You’ll know it all soon,’ she said but there was a quaver in her voice and she saw Beth and Joanne’s keen eyes search her face as if clues to what was going on were written there. ‘You’ll need your coats,’ she said, and looked down at the shoes Joanne was wearing. ‘Have you anything flatter? We’ll be walking for about fifteen minutes.’
‘I’d hope to go to the gym tomorrow so I have trainers with me, I’ll change into them,’ Joanne said. ‘I wish you’d tell us what the hell’s going on though. This is starting to freak me out a little.’
‘Soon,’ Megan said again, her voice a little firmer. She had to hold it together for a while longer.
‘Okay,’ Joanne said, lifting her hands in defeat. ‘I’ll go and change my shoes, and my trousers as well, otherwise they’ll be trailing in the mud.’
Ten minutes later, they were crossing the foyer. Megan, trying to physically and mentally prepare herself for what lay ahead, ignored the worried glances that passed between her friends, ‘It’s only a short drive,’ she said as they reached her car.
Joanne jumped into the front seat where there was more space for her long legs and Beth climbed in behind. It was a mere ten-minute drive to the pub. Joanne and Beth, chatting about a mutual friend recently engaged to a man neither of them liked, looked out the window as the car pulled into the car park. They stopped speaking mid-sentence, their eyes opening in shocked surprise and then they spoke at the same time.
‘Isn’t this the place…?’
‘Isn’t this where…?’
Neither finished their sentence, waiting for Megan to enlighten them.
‘Yes, it is,’ she said, opening the door and getting out. She shut the door and stayed leaning against it for a moment, hearing the muttered whispers of her friends who hadn’t moved. ‘Yes,’ she said almost to herself, as she stared across at the pub. ‘This was where it all started.’
She waited until they got out, and then, hooking her arms through theirs, she dragged them reluctantly with her across the small car park.
Reaching the pub, she released their arms, grabbed the cold metal handle and pulled the door open. ‘After you,’ she said, waiting until they passed through before taking a deep breath, and following them through the door and back twenty years.
12
Joanne felt her breath catch as they walked inside, almost overwhelmed by echoes of the past. Twenty years; she would have expected the place to have changed a little and she felt an irrational stirring of resentment that it looked exactly the same, that fateful night hadn’t left its mark on it the way it had done on her.
It was an old coaching house whose owner obviously relished its history. Moments from its past were captured with drawings and photographs hanging on the uneven whitewashed walls. There were images of the old carriages and suitably dressed travellers as well as big draft horses and
the more refined carriage horses. The windows were small, set deep into the thick walls so that the fading light outside barely penetrated. There were a few lamps dotted about but they provided little in the way of functional light and seemed to have been positioned simply to make the multitude of horse brasses that edged the beams criss-crossing the roof space gleam and shine. Joanne had never seen so many in one place and wasn’t sure she wanted to again.
‘I remembered it as being amazingly atmospheric,’ Beth said, not making any attempt to disguise her disappointment.
Joanne, having swallowed her resentment, looked around with dismay at the worn, uncomfortable-looking seats, the chipped and scratched Formica tables and the pervading air of neglect. Had it been the same back then or had they seen it through different, more innocent, eyes? ‘I think our standards have changed,’ she said nodding towards one of many vacant tables. ‘That looks about the best.’
There were only five other people in the pub, two couples sitting over their drinks and one elderly man propping up the bar. Apart from a first curious look, nobody paid them any attention.
‘It doesn’t look as if it’s a student stomping ground anymore,’ Joanne said with a wry smile, eying the rather grubby seat with disfavour before sitting.
‘They probably head into Dover.’ Beth shuffled in her seat. ‘Not sure I blame them.’
Megan sat and then immediately stood. ‘I’ll get us some drinks. What’ll you have?’
Joanne sensed the enthusiasm in Megan’s voice was forced, the smile that went with it false and awkward. ‘If we must stay, I’ll have a G&T please.’
‘I like trying local bitters,’ Beth said, looking towards the bar to study the pumps. ‘I’ll try a pint of Red Fox.’
As soon as Megan left to get the drinks, Joanne turned to Beth, ‘This is getting creepy. Have you any idea what’s going on?’
Beth shook her head. ‘Not a clue. She’s being very odd and, to be honest, I could have done without all this cloak and dagger stuff. I’ve got enough to deal with.’
Surprised at the note of defeat in her voice, Joanne studied Beth more closely. She was always pale, but today her pallor was more noticeable and her eyes were red-rimmed. Unusually, Beth wouldn’t meet her eyes, as if she were afraid they might give something away. It had been a while since they’d met; they were getting older and time moved past with a swiftness that occasionally startled Joanne. It had been November sometime, or was it October? A few months ago anyway; she wasn’t sure what was going on in Beth’s life anymore. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh, just work, a difficult case came in last week, sometimes it’s hard to let it go,’ Beth said, slipping off her coat and letting it hang on the chair behind her.
But Joanne noticed she still didn’t meet her eyes. ‘How’s Graham?’
‘Never better.’
The blunt non-committal response was a clear indicator that something was wrong and Joanne knew whatever it was, it was personal not work-related, not entirely anyway. Beth, unlike her, had never learned to completely separate her personal and her work life. Joanne had met Graham numerous times over the years. He was a nice guy, one of the good ones. She wanted to ask Beth if there was something wrong between them, but if there was, who was Joanne to give relationship advice? She wasn’t the person, it wasn’t the time, and certainly, this wasn’t the right place.
Megan returned with three glasses awkwardly held in her hands, giving Joanne a grateful nod as she reached up to take them from her.
There was a long embarrassing silence as each picked up their drink. It would have been nice to have made a toast, to drink to happy memories and times gone by, but not there, not in that place. Joanne took a mouthful of her G&T, regretting not having asked for a double, bitterly sorry that she’d ever agreed to come. As soon as Megan had mentioned Capel-le-Ferne, Joanne should have made an excuse. What had happened that night, couldn’t unhappen.
Joanne took another swallow of her drink and looked at Megan. Of the three of them, she’d changed the most and was hardly recognisable as the student who’d dropped that tray of food in the university restaurant, a memory that made Joanne smile.
However, it wasn’t the three years in university that had changed Megan. The same awkward woman had come to Capel-le-Ferne twenty years ago, but although she’d come through that traumatic ordeal so well, with such incredible bravery that Joanne was full of admiration for her, she’d been a different woman when she’d left. Joanne had been haunted by that night for a long time. It had taken many months for the horror of it all to fade, for her to be able to put the memory of Megan’s distress and desolation in the past. But she’d never forgotten.
Joanne had done things and made choices based on what had happened that terrible night. Now, looking across the table to where Megan sat, pale and weary, Joanne knew, given the same circumstances, she’d make the same choices again.
13
Megan put down her mineral water and took a deep breath. It caught halfway on a sob that had her friends leaning towards her with worried eyes. She held up a hand, gave them a reassuring smile and waited until they sat back before speaking. ‘It was different the last time we were here; it was buzzing with local people and those young and very handsome students. I remember, when we walked in, every man turned and looked the two of you over with appreciation. You both preened… it was quite amusing really.’ Her smile was dreamy, lost in the past, although her voice said she’d been anything but amused.
Joanne gave an uneasy laugh. ‘Preened? Really?’
Megan reached over and patted her arm. ‘It wasn’t deliberate, just the automatic reaction of someone who knows how good they look.’ She gave a slight shrug, picked up her glass with a trembling hand and took a sip of water before continuing. ‘I tried not to let it bother me, you know, but I was a big ugly lump, there was no denying it.’
An uncomfortable few seconds passed before she continued. ‘It didn’t bother me in school, I always felt I made up for it by being more intelligent and smarter than everyone else.’ She shrugged, a weary defeated rise and fall of her shoulders. ‘It wasn’t until I met you two that I realised what an absolute horror I was.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘Remember the day we met?’
‘You dropped your tray in the restaurant,’ Beth said with a smile of reminiscence. ‘Food and drink went flying everywhere and caused a huge commotion.’
‘I managed to get half a dozen people upset and I was so mortified I couldn’t pick everything up fast enough. Then you two got up from a nearby table and helped me.’
Joanne smiled. ‘You looked so woebegone, and people were being so mean, how could we not?’
Megan, returned the smile briefly and played with her glass before continuing. ‘Meeting people like you wasn’t something I’d expected. It wasn’t something I’d wanted, but you know what you’re both like.’ Her smile was genuine, warm. ‘Irresistible forces, both of you; before I was even aware of what was happening, I’d been swept along on a wave that just kept rolling.’ Her smile faded and a sad expression flitted across her face. ‘But being friends with you was a double-edged sword.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Joanne said. ‘I thought you liked hanging around with us.’
Megan gave a frustrated shake of her head. ‘I’m not explaining myself very well.’
To her surprise, Beth reached over and put a hand on her arm. ‘Actually, I think I understand. You liked being with us but maybe we made you feel a little…’ She hesitated. ‘I can’t think of any word other than inadequate.’
‘Inadequate?’ Megan looked at her. ‘That’s a nice word for it but it’s not quite right.’ She wasn’t sure if she could explain how she’d felt. ‘When it was just the three of us, it was fine. We’d laugh and joke and, although I was aware how gorgeous you both were, I never felt in any way different when I was with you, neither of you ever made me feel bad about myself. But when we went out it was another matter. I could see the sideways glance
s people gave as they wondered why two good-looking popular students wanted to be friends with someone so short, fat and ugly.’
‘I’m sure they didn’t think that,’ Joanne hurried to say. ‘You were always so hard on yourself. We never considered you ugly.’
‘Short, fat and ugly,’ Megan insisted. ‘You were more honest back then, Jo. Remember you told me I should get my teeth straightened and have laser surgery on my eyes?’
Joanne’s cheeks reddened. ‘I don’t remember saying anything like that. I’m sorry, if I did, it was unforgiveable of me.’
Megan gave a short laugh. ‘You really don’t remember?’ When Joanne shook her head, Megan shrugged. ‘Well, you did, and you were right.’ She took another sip. ‘I got both done after we parted that summer. I persuaded my parents to pay for it as a graduation present.’
Beth chimed in. ‘Yes, and although we spoke on the phone, we didn’t meet up for several months afterwards and by then you’d lost loads of weight too. I remember barely recognising you when you walked into the restaurant.’
‘Your reaction was perfect,’ Megan said with a laugh. ‘I swear your jaw dropped open.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘I’ll never be a good-looking woman, but I’m happy in my skin now. That’s what was important to me, not the weight loss, as such, but being happy with my shape, with the face that looks at me in the mirror. Back then…’ She sighed. ‘When you invited me to come away for the night to celebrate our graduation, I was going to refuse at first, like I always had. Remember those weekends you two went away together? You’d tell me stories of everything you’d got up to: the men, the drinking, the fun you had while I was slogging over my books.’
Their eyes were fixed on her so intently, listening to every word she said, more importantly, caring about what she said. She’d made the mistake of taking their friendship for granted and now, when she was in danger of losing it, she realised how very precious it was. Now it was too late, it was time to move on with her story.
The Three Women Page 8