About Last Night

by Adele Parks

  ‘OK,’ agreed Pip, reluctantly.

  They didn’t speak while the coffee brewed. Small talk would have been an insult and the necessary big talk was so massive that attention couldn’t be split between that and spooning heaps of coffee into the cafetière. It was clear to both of them that they could only start to talk once they were ensconced in the sun room, which was in fact anything other than sunny at that moment; it was dark and cold and draughty, but Steph chose to sit there because it was the room furthest away from the sleeping boys and she didn’t want to risk them overhearing what she had to say.

  ‘I met him last May. He’s called Subhash Sharma. He runs his own solar power business.’

  Pip thought that it was so like Steph to reel out the credentials first, as though she was throwing some sort of drinks party and introducing two strangers. ‘This is John Smith, he’s an architect and this is Jane Jones, she’s a dentist.’ Pip always hated it when people did that, it was assuming a person’s job was their identity. Since Pip had followed a very sketchy career path, she’d always feared an introduction along the lines of, ‘This is Pip Foxton, she’s a fiasco.’

  ‘He asked me to go to dinner.’ Stephanie smiled at the memory. Even now, in amongst all this mess and confusion, she found that thinking of Subhash – standing in the doorway of the coffee shop, cheerfully grinning at her – lit her up from the inside. She thought it probably always would. Always. A terribly long time.

  ‘Oh my God,’ replied Pip, catching Steph’s expression and understanding it entirely. She was struggling with the thought that Steph was having an affair almost as much as she’d struggled with the thought that she might have attempted to kill her husband. ‘But you said no. You said you were married, right?’ Pip sounded anxious and irritated at once.

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I said,’ Stephanie replied, with another sigh. ‘But he said, I think even married women have to eat, don’t they?’ Stephanie recalled his carefully enunciated lilting tone. She could hear his words as clear as a bell.

  ‘And you said no again,’ Pip suggested, quite firmly.

  ‘But married women do eat, Pip.’ Stephanie looked Pip in the eye; she searched for some understanding, hoped for a little bit of tolerance.

  ‘So you went for dinner,’ groaned Pip, exhibiting nothing other than despair. ‘Is he married as well?’ she demanded angrily.

  Steph nodded.

  Pip glared.

  It was a shootout at the OK Corral.

  Steph was married. This impertinent stranger was married. This was a clearcut situation. This was unforgivable. Pip could never condone affairs. She’d lived through the consequences of Dylan’s treachery. This sort of situation was black and white for her. From time to time over the past couple of years, married or partnered men had hit on Pip. She’d realised that in some vague, inadequate way they might have offered a short-term answer to her perpetual loneliness but she’d never ever been tempted to take them up on their offers of drinks or dinners. Pip knew that there was always a wife to consider and even a wife who didn’t understand, that no longer liked sex or who hated his mother, was still due respect. She would never ever put another woman through what she’d been through. The matter was non-negotiable.

  Stephanie knew this and it took all her courage to continue. ‘Not dinner, no. Never dinner. The children.’ She nodded her head in the direction of the stairs and Pip was unsure if Steph meant that she hadn’t accepted a dinner invite because she had babysitting issues or because she knew it was wrong to have an affair and the children were the physical embodiment of her fifteen-year marriage. Had they served as mini Jiminy Crickets? She hoped it was the latter and imagined it was the former. ‘We had lunch,’ admitted Steph. ‘And then – then it was as you’d predict,’ she added sheepishly.

  Pip saw it vividly. Yes, she knew how such things went. The urgent glances, the breathless sighs, the dashing to find a hotel, the impatience to unlock the door, the handbag cast to one side and then the duvet tossed to the floor. She saw it clearly because she’d lived the scene a hundred times, a thousand times, in her head. Usually, different protagonists featured in her imaginings, Dylan and that slut had always starred in her show, but now she saw Steph and some stranger shredding pantyhose. Pip rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. No, no, it was too ghastly. Steph? Stephanie Amstell? She unconsciously fell back on her friend’s maiden name, the name she’d used for Steph for fifteen years before the fifteen years she’d called her Stephanie Blake. How terrible it was that after thirty years of knowing someone, you found out you don’t know them at all. Pip felt her world shake as though she was some sort of victim of time travel. The years vanished. Nothing was certain, Pip had no knowledge. She had no past. Stephanie Amstell was an adulterer.

  Steph read her friend’s mind as she always had. ‘Pip, I know this must upset you. And I’ve disappointed you but I really need you to hear me out.’ Steph moved towards Pip and laid her hand on her friend’s. Pip pulled back as though she’d been stung and grabbed her coffee mug.

  ‘Spare me, Steph. Spare me the pathetic, predictable details about how you’ve never felt this way about anyone before or you didn’t mean it to happen or you didn’t want to hurt anyone.’

  ‘But no one was hurt,’ insisted Stephanie, except perhaps herself and Subhash but she didn’t think this was the moment for that level of detail. ‘At least, not by me. I’m not Dylan.’

  ‘I can’t see a difference between you,’ snapped Pip.

  Stephanie considered this. Perhaps there wasn’t a difference after all but she’d always hoped and thought there was. She’d tried to be better. Didn’t that count? Looking at Pip’s stony expression right now, Steph thought perhaps it didn’t. She decided to try to tackle the problem from another angle. ‘You have to think it’s better that I was with Subhash than I attempted to kill my husband,’ she pointed out reasonably.

  Pip hung her head and then admitted, ‘I could never have condoned you mowing down Julian, but in a strange way I almost understood it.’

  Steph gasped. ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘No, I’m not. I thought you’d just lost it. You know. After years of keeping your cool and being so, oh, I don’t know, so flawless, I thought you’d just gone mad and behaved like we all do. Badly.’

  ‘And you’d have been OK with that?’ asked Steph in amazement.

  ‘Not OK, no. But I’d have understood a rare moment of madness.’ Pip shrugged.

  ‘But you can’t understand my relationship with Subhash?’ Steph pleaded.

  ‘You know my thoughts on adultery,’ mumbled Pip as she sipped her coffee.

  Steph knew Pip well enough to guess that she was probably struggling to swallow her drink; she was simply using the coffee as a way of avoiding eye contact. Yes, yes, Steph knew Pip’s views on adultery. Actually they coincided with her own, although Pip was unlikely to believe it right now. Pip’s position of no excuses, no explanation, and no extenuating circumstances had meant Steph had never been able to confide in her in all these long, lonely and confusing months. That’s why she was in such a mess because she couldn’t bear the idea of Pip loathing her, the way she loathed other people who casually broke vows and hearts.

  From the moment Pip had linked their names in the school playground, all those years ago, Steph had loved Philippa Foxton with an absolute sincerity and intensity. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her friend. She’d worked hard, perhaps too hard, to hold on to Pip’s favour. When they were teenagers she’d broken curfews and drunk bitter-tasting alcohol if Pip wanted her to. When they were in their twenties she’d watched Pip’s flourishing career with as much pride as if it had been her own and she’d felt Pip’s heartbreaks almost as acutely as if they had been her own. During their thirties, on paper at least, it seemed that Steph was the one that was constantly giving to Pip, her time, her home, her nutritious meals, lifts and holidays, but Steph had never seen their friendship that way.

  Pip had s
aved Steph’s life.

  Stephanie Amstell would have shrivelled up and disappeared if Pip hadn’t noticed her as she skulked near the hopscotch, she was sure of it. If Pip, with all her confidence, allure and glamour had not singled her out, she would have stayed as tiny as Mrs Pepper Pot for her entire life. She doubted she would have been the sort of woman to have gone on to marry a man like Julian or to have the boys she had, she might not have even managed to hold coffee mornings for charity or even mastered the art of making meringue go stiff. Indeed, part of Steph’s motivation to become an exemplary mother and homemaker was to complement Pip’s skill set; on some level Steph enticed Pip into her life with freshly baked scones and tips on the exam system. Pip’s approval mattered to Stephanie.

  But now there were bigger things at stake. Part of Steph’s motivation to become an exemplary mother and homemaker was Pip but the bigger part was Julian, Harry, Alfie and Freddie.

  The silence between them was tense and bloated like a balloon, Steph had to pop it.

  ‘But now at least you understand why I need you to tell the police I was with you on Tuesday,’ she mumbled. Pip blanched but Steph was too concerned with insisting on her own point to notice. ‘Because if – when – Julian pulls through this, do you think it will help his recovery if he finds out where I was that night?’

  Still angry and confused and guilty, Pip spat, ‘Surely you could just explain that you were having an eye-for-an-eye shag after discovering that he was screwing some floozy.’ Steph glanced warily at the ceiling, would Pip’s voice carry?

  ‘Shush. The boys, my mum and dad.’

  ‘I mean, two wrongs make a right, don’t they, Steph? That was what you were thinking.’

  ‘I don’t know what I was thinking but I didn’t sleep with Subhash,’ stated Steph calmly, despite her belief that revealing this level of detail was undignified.

  ‘What, and you think it makes a difference that you didn’t happen to shag him on that particular Tuesday?’

  ‘I didn’t ever shag him, as you so delicately put it.’

  ‘What? But you said you were having an affair. You said Robbie was right,’ Pip faltered.

  ‘I thought, maybe, I was in love. That’s an affair, isn’t it.’ Steph wasn’t asking a question, she was stating the situation as she saw it.

  ‘No sex?’

  ‘No, no sex.’ Steph fidgeted uncomfortably.

  ‘No handjobs or blow jobs or fingering?’ Pip was looking for clarification.

  ‘Pip!’

  ‘Sorry, I’m just trying to understand. Snogging?’

  ‘I really hate that word.’

  ‘Everyone does, but no one has come up with anything better.’

  ‘Once. We kissed once. On Tuesday,’ admitted Steph. ‘We kissed and I drank the mini bar dry. He drove me home.’

  ‘Ah.’ Now Pip understood everything. Of course she understood why Steph might have flung herself into the arms of a longstanding flirtation – because really that’s all it was. How could Steph accuse her of being the fanciful one when she described a couple of lunches as an affair? It was Steph who didn’t have a grasp. Pip didn’t blame Steph for the flirtation or the fling – she got it. Betrayal was a great motivator for stupid acts. And Pip understood that the Steph she knew wouldn’t have been able to go though with sex, even if she’d wanted to, even if her husband was shagging another woman. That was not Steph’s way. And finally, Pip understood the guilt and the dread of exposure that Steph would so keenly feel if people knew where she’d been on Tuesday. Now, if ever, Steph needed to cling to her respectability. Yes, Pip understood everything.

  ‘He’s a really lovely man, kind, decent, attentive, you know.’

  Pip nodded, indeed perhaps for the first time she was gaining some understanding of what it was like to know a man of that sort. Robbie.

  ‘Julian and I, well, we were victims of the age-old story. A little too used to one another, I think. We’d started to take one another for granted. We’d become wallpaper in each other’s lives. For a while there I thought I was in love with Subhash. Maybe I was. It was flattering. Exciting. Who knows.’ Stephanie paused and looked out into the garden. The night wasn’t so black now, there was the first breathy hint of light. Soon the garden would be steeped in a gash of golden light dividing the shadowy garden shrubs and the shimmering dark blue sky. An hour ago it was yesterday, in another few hours tomorrow would be today, right now was a peculiar limbo.

  ‘Love is so much more complicated than I thought it was. I was so dim.’ Steph clamped her hands to the sides of her head and squeezed. Pip wondered if she was trying to stop her head exploding or was she hoping to implode? ‘I was so smug. I thought I had it all worked out. Then Subhash came along. And then I found out about Julian’s affair and now, now I find that I hate and love my husband with such ferocity that I feel I’m being ripped apart. Pip, it’s all so sickeningly confusing. I had no idea being an adult was so hard.’

  ‘Oh, Steph, I’m sorry.’ Pip jumped off her chair and knelt down beside Steph. ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this?’

  ‘How could I? I know I have exactly what you want. You’d have thought me ungrateful and greedy if I’d told you it wasn’t enough.’

  ‘No, I—’ Pip stopped herself. Yeah, she would have.

  ‘I have the perfect set-up. Admitting it’s anything less than perfect ruins things for everyone.’

  Pip realised that she had never given her friend any room to be less than perfect. Pip often declared that Steph was the ideal mother, that she was a wonderful cook, a flawless hostess and most importantly that she had a watertight marriage. She hadn’t even listened when Steph had told her Julian was having an affair. She hadn’t wanted to believe it, so she hadn’t believed it. She’d insisted there must be some mistake. She’d forced Steph to look for someone else to confide in. Since Dylan had deserted her, Pip’s designated role was heartbroken single mum in need of saving, and Steph’s designated role was happily married mother of three, joined at the hip to her first love. Pip thought perhaps she’d been the one who had designated these roles and now she wondered if they were truly helpful. The roles hadn’t left much room for her own growth or Steph’s mistakes.

  ‘Subhash says he wants to leave his wife for me. But I know for certain I don’t want that. I worked it out on Tuesday night, after he kissed me. When it became real, I suppose. I don’t want him but he’s a good man and I definitely don’t want him embroiled in this mess. I don’t want things getting any more complicated. That’s why I need you to lie for me, Pip. I’m so sorry to ask you but everything I have has to be focused on Julian and helping Julian get better. Do you understand?’

  Oh shit, thought Pip. What she said was, ‘What if Julian gets better and leaves you for this other woman?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve thought of that. I realise that’s quite likely, actually,’ said Steph with a shrug that was designed to hide her dread but didn’t. ‘I believe a near-death experience often results in more daring behaviour. People suddenly grasp at what they really want, rather than lazily putting up with what they have, but I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it. All I know is I can’t be the one to leave. Not now. Not even before. I want to stay. It’s not fashionable. I know some people will think I’m a fool but I want to stand by him. It’s what I believe.’

  ‘What if he doesn’t recover, Steph?’ asked Pip quietly.

  Stephanie glared at her friend, shocked that she’d said the unsayable but aware that someone had to say it and Pip, as her oldest friend, probably had that right.

  ‘If he doesn’t get better then I’ll be on my own. What I do know is I can’t make things worse right now. There’s already shedloads to deal with.’ Pip froze as she thought perhaps she had already made things worse. ‘Subhash has a wife and I don’t want to hurt her the way I’ve been hurt. The way you were. I don’t want him being dragged into this and forced to offer up an alibi for me. That’s a lot to pay for just one kiss. I don’t
want any more hurt.’

  ‘Right,’ said Pip carefully.

  ‘Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, Steph. I understand now. I just wish you’d told me all of this before.’

  ‘I was . . . It was . . . difficult.’ Pip knew all about having to say something that was difficult. ‘So will you lie for me, to the police? I know it’s asking a lot but I haven’t done anything illegal. You believe me now, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I believe you.’

  ‘So, will you provide an alibi?’

  Pip realised that if she was any sort of a friend she’d now explain to Steph exactly what she’d said to the police. And if Steph was half the person Pip thought she was, she’d understand. Surely, Steph would understand that she couldn’t lie to the police, not without any sort of explanation as to where Steph had been. Surely, she’d understand why she had told the police about Steph discovering Julian’s affair and the fact that Stephanie had dashed out of the house upset on the night in question. Or maybe she would consider that an unnecessary detail.

  Pip was ashamed to discover that if coming clean at this point defined her as any sort of a decent friend then she was not any sort of a decent friend.

  ‘Look at the time,’ she exclaimed suddenly, and not especially convincingly. ‘It’s great that we’ve cleared so much up. Obviously still a lot to talk about but I have to get back. I’ve left Chloe with Robbie.’

  Steph was horrified. ‘The man you met on Monday?’

  ‘She’s asleep.’ Pip suddenly felt once again flung back into her position of inadequate mother defending her decisions to a more superior breed.

  ‘What if she wakes up? She’ll be frightened to see a stranger in the house. I take it there hasn’t been any formal introduction.’

  ‘No, there hasn’t. I’ve had things on my mind.’ Pip had stood up and was backing towards the door. ‘He’s a nurse. He’s trustworthy. I was stuck.’ Pip had never left Chloe with anyone other than Steph and she felt irritated with Steph for drawing attention to this possible but rare lapse of judgement. ‘Sometimes, Steph, you expect too much of people. Do you know that?’ she snapped irritably.