I did know. Joe and I had had that, too. I could feel my heart beating so hard in my chest I could hardly breathe, and I felt like I might be sick.
‘And then I fucked it all up. It was stupid. It was like I woke up one morning and I was like, Shit. I’m twenty-one. I’m not ready for this. I thought, I can’t have found The One yet. I don’t even know who I am.’
I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. ‘Go on.’
‘It was so sudden. As sudden as falling for him had been. I changed from feeling all happy and secure to being in this blind panic because I’d got myself into a relationship that felt like it was going to be forever, and suddenly forever seemed like the longest, longest time. I felt like all the things I wanted to do with my life weren’t going to happen. Like I’d given away my independence, my autonomy. Like I couldn’t be me any more, because I’d become half of two people. Does that even make sense? I know how silly it sounds now.’
I nodded slowly. What she was saying kind of did make sense – I thought how relieved I’d been as I’d gradually drifted into becoming half of Alice-and-Joe – like we were two sides of the same coin, or two different-coloured threads, gradually weaving together into something better than we could have been alone. But would I have felt the same if I’d met Joe when I was twenty-one? I couldn’t be sure.
Zoë carried on, just as if I wasn’t there. ‘The funny thing is, I knew that if I’d talked to him about it, he’d have understood. He’d have said we could take things slowly, have some time apart, whatever. He wouldn’t have been a dick about it. And I knew that if that happened, I’d just have let myself fall right back into it – this massively intense relationship that I wasn’t ready for, that could have been forever. I knew I had to do something to make sure that never happened.’
‘What did you do?’
‘That same day – well, that night – I was out with some mates. Just a girls’ thing – most of us were single and the ones that weren’t didn’t bring their blokes. We went to a few bars and then a club. I was drunk, but I still knew what I was doing. I hooked up with someone else, that night. Some random bloke. We had sex in a back alley outside the club. It was sordid and grim and I never even knew his name. But I knew once I’d done that to Joe, I’d have to break up with him. And that’s what I did.’
‘I see,’ I said. And I did see – that kind of answered the question of why, out of the blue, after just a few weeks, when their relationship was in its earliest, headiest stage, Zoë had told Joe it was over. But it didn’t answer another question: why had she kept his notes to her? Why was she even here?
‘The thing is, Alice, I regretted it straight away. It was like I’d had something precious that I’d deliberately smashed, because I was too scared to cherish it. And once it was broken, I could never fix it or even replace it. I carried on regretting it for years and years, and I never felt the same about anyone else, ever. But it kind of stopped mattering quite so much. I mean, I wasn’t pining away like some princess in an ivory tower. And then I saw him, that day in August, with you. And it all came back. I thought I could get him back.’
‘Even though he was with me?’
She nodded miserably. ‘Even though he was with you. I’m sorry, Alice. I told you I did a shitty thing. When Sean said he wanted to move up to Leeds, I was like, off you go then. We weren’t serious, but I treated him badly, too. I hurt him, because he could tell I didn’t really care. I only cared about Joe.’
‘So what happened last night?’
‘It was Maurice. Maurice and his bloody poem. Him talking about hiding love, and how it could eat you up inside. And after living in the same flat for four bloody months, Joe never gave any sign at all that he still had feelings for me. I tried, you know. I tried to give him the chance to say he still loved me.’
I thought of her lacy camisole, the meals she’d cooked for Joe, the hours she’d spent next to him on the sofa playing computer games.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice. I did.’
Zoë winced, like I’d raised a hand to slap her. ‘So last night, I decided to tell him how I felt about him. I left the pub as soon as I could and went back to the flat to see him. But I needn’t have, actually, because I met him just outside. I told him you’d already left, and we walked back together. And I told him I still loved him.’
I waited, my heart feeling like it was about to jump right out of my chest.
‘He was so kind. So fucking kind and decent. He even said sorry, because he’d made me cry, and hugged me. That was when you came in the door. But also, he couldn’t have been clearer. The feelings he’d had for me were history. Long gone. Since round about the time he met you.’
My heart was working overtime. Now, it seemed to have sent a massive rush of blood to my head, so I felt like I might faint. Part of me wanted to burst out with something like, ‘But he’s my boyfriend! You came into my home and tried to steal my man!’
But I knew that no one could be stolen unless they wanted to be. And Joe didn’t. He’d chosen me, because he loved me and valued what we had. And, really, that was all that mattered.
‘I’m a horrible person,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Alice. I really am.’
I shook my head, not quite ready to say I forgave her.
‘There’s another thing,’ she went on. ‘I had it all planned. I thought, if I got back together with Joe, you’d be okay so long as you had the pub.’
‘Hold on,’ I said, the pieces slowly falling into place in my mind. ‘Was it you who told the press all that stuff about Fabian Flatley’s business being dodgy?’
She nodded. ‘I told you he talks on his phone all the time in the gym. I didn’t even understand half of what he was saying, but it sounded off to me. So I recorded him on my phone, and then I bought a copy of the FT – and oh my God, that’s something I’m never going to do again. Who reads that stuff? Insomniacs? – and I found a journalist who writes about companies floating on the stock exchange, and I emailed her.’
I stared at her. My mouth must have been gaping open like a goldfish’s. Zoë had made a massive play for Joe, my boyfriend. But at the same time, she’d done this crazy thing to save the pub we both loved. She’d promised to fight for it, and she had. She’d fought and won, just as surely as she’d lost Joe.
‘Thank you,’ I managed to say. ‘That’s actually fucking amazing. And you’re not a horrible person. You really aren’t.’
Zoë turned her face up to mine. Her freckled cheeks were wet with tears.
‘Fuck off. You’re too kind, too, Alice. You and Joe. Damn it, you’re so bloody right for each other. I can see it now. I could see it all along.’
Suddenly, in spite of everything, I could see it too. And more than ever, I felt horrified by what I’d almost lost.
‘Go on,’ Zoë said. ‘Get out of here. Go home and talk to him.’
‘Are you sure? Are you okay?’
‘Of course. But that fucking apple sauce isn’t – it’s catching on the heat.’
Zoë turned away from me, reaching hastily for the pan, and I knew that she’d reached the limit of how much she could bear to relive all her heartache. So I opened the kitchen door, slowly, in case there was anything else she wanted to say.
But neither of us had a chance to say anything more, because Shirley was right there, four litres of milk in her hands.
‘You need to get a wiggle on with those Yorkies, love. The queue in Tesco! I thought I’d end my days in the place. And before you ask, no it’s not bloody organic.’
Thirty
The previous night, before I opened the door to find him and Zoë together, I’d hurried – almost fled – home in my eagerness to see Joe and make things right between us. Now, I walked more slowly. I knew that what I needed to say to him went far beyond ‘I love you – please say you love me too and everything will be all right’, which had pretty much been the extent of my plan before.
I realised that I needed mor
e than just reassurance from Joe – and I owed him more, too. The past few months had revealed fault lines in our relationship that I hadn’t ever suspected were there: fears and insecurities and untold truths that might not have mattered so much in the beginning, but made for a fragile foundation on which to build a life together.
I needed to give him more than just declarations of love: I owed him honesty, an unvarnished version of me.
And unvarnished was certainly what he was going to get, I thought ruefully, looking down at my creased black dress and realising I hadn’t had a chance to take off my make-up from the previous night or do more than run a finger and some of Drew’s toothpaste round my mouth.
Joe was in the living room when I got home, the iron plugged in and a row of shirts on wire hangers waiting to be pressed. But he hadn’t been able to make a start on them, because Frazzle had stretched himself out on the ironing board and was fast asleep. So Joe was slumped on the sofa, flicking through his phone, presumably there for the long haul until the cat decided to wake up and move.
When he saw me he sat upright and put his phone aside. His face was full of doubt.
‘Where have you been?’
‘At Drew’s.’
‘Drew’s? Are you sure about that?’
‘Of course I’m sure! Where else would I have been?’
He looked at me for a long moment, and I felt blood rush to my cheeks.
‘I saw you with Archie last night.’
‘We just went for a walk.’ I could hear the defensiveness in my voice.
‘A walk. Right.’
I took a deep breath. I’d resolved that there would be no more secrets between us, and here I was, tempted to renege on my own promise already, because telling the truth was too hard.
‘It honestly was just a walk. But there’s been more than that, in the past couple of months. We’ve been playing Scrabble together online.’
‘Scrabble?’ Joe spat the word out with an angry half-laugh.
‘Yes, Scrabble. And we got kind of close and kind of flirty. But that’s over now. I promise. Nothing happened – nothing physical, nothing even close to cheating – and nothing is going to. Because I’ve realised I was almost the world’s most massive dick, and I almost lost you.’
Joe shook his head. ‘I almost let you get away. I should have realised how hard it would be for you, Zoë moving in. I did realise, if I’m honest. But in a way I guess I wanted to make you see you’d made a mistake, leaving law to work in a pub. I thought you’d change your mind, come to your senses.’
‘But I didn’t. And Zoë—’
‘I didn’t realise she still had feelings for me,’ Joe said. ‘Not at first. We went for lunch together before she moved in and it was cool – it was like we could be mates after all this time, all this water under the bridge. But then I started to realise…’
‘That she wanted you back?’
He nodded. ‘And I should have had it out with her, but I didn’t. I’d seen you with whatsisname, in the pub on the games night, and I wanted you to feel a bit of how that made me feel.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I did feel that way, for ages. It’s shit.’
‘Shit. And stupid, because I’ve hurt Zoë and I’ve hurt you, and for all I knew you could have gone off and shagged that other bloke and quite honestly I wouldn’t have blamed you, after what you saw here last night.’
‘I didn’t,’ I said. ‘I never want to shag anyone except you.’
‘Not even Kit Harington?’
‘I believe he’s taken.’
‘And I guess you’re taken, too.’
Our eyes met and we both started to smile. Then Joe stood up, slowly, hesitantly, and gave me a kiss on the cheek that felt almost tentative. I put my arms around his waist, not hugging him but just holding his body against mine, almost cautious, same as he had been.
‘I could really do with a bath,’ I said.
‘Want me to run you one? With that poncy bergamot stuff you got for your birthday?’
‘Perfect.’
And so, twenty minutes later, I was lying in fragrant hot water, bubbles up to my chin, and Joe was perched less comfortably on the edge of the bath, his feet next to Frazzle’s litter tray. I’d got so used to it being there, I realised; it was ages since I’d last kicked it on my way to the loo in the morning. The fear and jealousy I’d felt over Zoë was gone. The attraction I’d felt for Archie was gone too, and I realised it had never been real – just a way of making myself feel desirable when I hadn’t for the longest time.
But still, there was a knot of tension deep inside me. I thought about the other thing I hadn’t told Joe, which I’d resolved to be truthful about now. I would. I’d decided. It was the right thing to do. But did I really have to do it now?
‘Could you pass me my shampoo please?’
I ducked under the water, then lathered my hair, rinsed it, lathered it again and combed coconut and honey conditioner through it.
‘God, the state of my hair. The ends are split to fuck and my highlights need doing.’
Joe smiled. ‘You have beautiful hair. Beautiful everything.’
But an ugly secret that I’ve never been able to admit to you, because I’m too ashamed.
I cleansed my face, rubbing it twice with a flannel the way I’d seen some woman on YouTube say you should do. I needed to shave my legs, but I wasn’t doing that with Joe there. Two years wasn’t enough time together for that. I wondered how long it would take before all those tiny barriers between us were broken down, eroded by time and familiarity. Maybe they never would be.
I said, ‘Joe,’ and then I stopped.
‘Alice.’ He reached under the water and gave my foot a squeeze. He was looking at me, not smiling, his face still and expectant. I looked at my flannel and wondered if I could put it over my face, like the screen in a confessional, literally hiding my feelings.
But that would be ridiculous, and I’d get soapy water in my mouth.
‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I know you think it’s crazy that I was okay about leaving Billings, just like that. I know you think it’s really weird I didn’t fight to get another job offer there, when I could have done. Or try other firms, or whatever.’
‘I did think it was kind of strange.’
‘The thing is, when Gordon lost his job, I… It made me realise that my whole career there had been a sham.’
‘What do you mean? Of course it wasn’t a sham. You did brilliantly in the other departments you worked in. It was just him that got a job offer in first. You could have ended up in Litigation, or in Public Law with me, or on the commercial side like Heather, or… anywhere you wanted, really.’
‘I don’t think so, Joe. Because Gordon had a reason for offering me that job. For favouring me over the other trainees.’
Joe slid a bit along the edge of the bath, close enough that he could hold my hand. I saw drops of water from my skin darkening the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
‘You see,’ I said, feeling like I might choke on the words, ‘what happened was, one night when I was quite new there, he took me out for dinner. And afterwards, in the taxi home…’
I stopped. I couldn’t say it. This time, I did put my flannel over my face. I wished I had a full-body-sized one. At least the bubbles on the water hid most of the rest of me.
‘He… he sexually assaulted you,’ Joe said. His voice sounded kind of croaky, like getting the words out hurt his throat.
‘No! It wasn’t like that.’ I’d been right – I was getting soapy water in my mouth. I moved the flannel and sat up, hugging my knees to my chest. ‘I let him. I fell asleep in the taxi and when I woke up he was touching me. I wasn’t sure what was happening at first. I was really, really drunk. But I didn’t try and stop him. I let him carry on. He didn’t hurt me or anything.’
I put my head down to my knees, my wet, slippery hair trailing over my shoulder
s. Joe reached out and touched my shoulder.
‘Alice, you know that’s what happens, don’t you? In cases of assault… People don’t struggle. They don’t scream, or try to fight off their attacker. It’s shock – and self-preservation. Most of the time, people just wait. Disassociate. It’s normal.’
‘But I… It felt okay. He didn’t hurt me. And I never said anything, not that night or afterwards, to anyone. And whenever I saw him, there was this thing between us, like he knew I’d keep quiet. And then he favoured me over the other trainees. I got the interesting work to do. I got the job offer. And I took it. I let it all happen to me. I was going to tell Samantha about it, but I bottled it. I was too scared of what would happen to me.’
‘My poor Alice. That’s normal, too. You kept your head down. That’s what survivors do.’
I lifted my head to look at him. I could feel tears streaming down my face, my eyes stinging from the conditioner.
‘Other women didn’t. Other people he did that to were brave enough to tell. Even though it could’ve damaged their careers. They spoke out. And once they’d done that, I knew everyone would know I hadn’t said anything. I’d let him do what he wanted to me and shut the fuck up because I felt so ashamed, Joe. I knew I could never, ever work there again after that. And not just there – anywhere I went, it would be on my CV. People would know. They’d think I wasn’t bright, or talented, or hard-working. I was just easy. Easy and complicit.’
‘No one would think that of you. No one does.’
‘And I never even told you.’ I carried on like he hadn’t spoken, the words coming in an unstoppable flood. ‘That first day, when you bought me those shoes. That was the morning after it had happened. And I went on a date with you, just the same, and I realised how much I liked you and I knew if you found out you wouldn’t like me back.’
Joe pushed up the sleeves of his jumper and turned on the shower head. He checked the temperature of the water and then gently and carefully started to rinse my hair. One hand supported my head, the other guided the water carefully along my hairline so that none of it got in my eyes. He didn’t say anything until he’d finished; I wouldn’t have been able to hear him, anyway, over the sound of running water.
Just Saying: An absolutely perfect and feel-good romantic comedy Page 27