‘So they’re back together? Happy? After all that time?’ Amanda asked cynically. ‘What about wanting to leave and start again and shag Teyo?’
‘Turns out Teyo’s performance at the party and Ariel’s drunken reaction to him even being there snapped her back to reality.’
‘Why shag Ian, then?’ Amanda wanted to know. ‘Why not jump on Tinder if you just wanted a secret shag? It is possible not to get found out.’
I’d asked the same thing when we were taking Jo’s dogs for a walk over the weekend…
‘Because he was there, and I was drunk and pissed off,’ Francesca let slip.
‘But you want to leave!’ Jo snapped as she bent over and picked up a stick for Bert, hurling it so far across Dulwich Park that the dogs would need to get a bus to find it, their stumpy legs not bred for covering long distances.
‘I knew you would be like that about it!’ Francesca had said touchily. ‘I shouldn’t have admitted it.’
‘It was obvious earlier,’ Jo countered back. ‘He was all over you and you let him in the no-fly zone.’
‘He wasn’t all over me! He touched my back.’
‘Same difference.’
‘Anyway, yes, we have done it a few times,’ Francesca revealed further as we passed the duck pond where kids screamed laughing on the pedalos, other kids whizzing past like bullets on the recumbent bikes, weaving between people, chasing each other along the paths. I missed Grace and she’d only been gone a day.
‘Are you back together?’ I asked.
‘No, I don’t know what I want long term. At the moment I just want sex when I want it.’
‘You did want to get married,’ Jo said, prompting her. ‘And living in the same house is confusing, surely.’
‘I don’t want to marry Ian any more. And I haven’t moved back into our bedroom.’
‘What if you want to meet someone else?’ I asked, totally perplexed about what was going on here. ‘Shagging Ian isn’t going to be conducive to that, is it?’
She shrugged. ‘The sex was good. I’d forgotten how it could be, but it’s also like an out-of-body experience because I’m not associating it with him. It’s like I’m having sex with myself, I’m turning myself on like I have been doing for fuck knows how many years, but he just happens to be there.’
‘So he’s like a sex robot or a giant man-sized dildo?’ Jo barked out in her sergeant major voice across the duck pond. ‘He could be anyone then?’
‘That’s a bit below the belt!’ Francesca cried, and Jo burst out laughing. I couldn’t help a snigger escaping. Francesca playfully hit Jo on her arm.
‘Do you not have any feelings for him?’ I asked. ‘He doesn’t bring anything to the bedroom?’
‘Well, yes, of course he does. I haven’t been touched by him for so long I’m having to get used to it again. I do have feelings but not like he wants me to. I’m fond of him. And that’s an enormous improvement on wanting to sleep in a separate bed for the last two years and puking in my mouth at the thought of him touching me. I think I took myself to that place as self-protection and my walls are still up pretty high.’
I had no idea how you came back from wanting to puke in your mouth at the thought of sex with a partner. Desperation was a powerful aphrodisiac.
‘How does he feel?’ Jo asked. ‘Does he want to go the whole hog?’
‘Yes, he wants to get married, says he loves me. But every time he says that it makes me want to run away. I’m happy with how things are right now. Maybe I will want to be on my own eventually. But the truth is, I would have to live miles away from London if I could even find a property with my small share of the house.’
‘So if I offered you a flat rent-free for six months in Forest Hill with three bedrooms so the girls could live with you, you’d take it? One of my tenants has just moved out and it needs doing up, but I can work round you,’ Jo continued to push.
‘You don’t like Ian, do you?’ Francesca shot back instead of accepting.
‘Neither do you!’
‘Why do you care?’ Francesca protested. ‘I’m not complaining about it; I’m telling you what’s going on.’
‘Because you’ve been going on about leaving him for two years. I’ve offered to get you on your feet several times, but you’ve always referred back to the girls turning against you, which I understand completely.’
‘Yes, and I still stand by that! Especially after Ariel’s reaction,’ Francesca said snappishly.
I kept my head down. Years of friendship was being rocked to the foundations here, though I was sure they could weather it.
‘You’re scared of leaving him and the Mews, of being on your own. Teyo is finally off the scene, Ian doesn’t seem too bad now he’s paying you attention again after the ridiculously long drought. You also can’t live your life and be miserable just because the children might not like it. What will happen when they leave home? You’ll still be there, even more unhappy and older, making it harder to find someone else.’
I winced.
‘Jo, I love you, but take a look at your own garden before you go pulling out the weeds in everybody else’s. I’m going back to the Mews. I have a client coming at four and I need to align my chakras or they won’t have a good experience.’ Francesca kissed my cheek and stalked back the way we’d come, her green silk scarf flapping out behind her in her haste to escape.
‘You know she has wedding dresses hidden under her bed?’ Jo asked as the dogs waddled towards us; they never did the find the stick.
‘Yes, I know. We tried them on months ago when Teyo was still in favour.’
‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, no, don’t drag me in to this. I have no idea. If she’s happy, just let her be.’
‘But she could leave if she really wanted to.’
‘Of course. Anyone can leave anyone if they’re willing to pay the price. There’s always going to be collateral damage. Maybe that’s what she’s weighing up.’
‘I wouldn’t stay with someone who ignored me for years, no matter if they had had a breakdown or whatever and I had tried and tried to help. Move on, pastures new.’
‘It’s never that simple when kids are involved. And also you only know what her experience is. What about Ian’s?’ Spoken like a true resident of Switzerland.
*
‘Jo’s reaction said so much more about her than it did about Francesca,’ Amanda said when I’d told them about the set-to in the park.
‘Yeah. Who are we to judge how Francesca conducts her life? If she can manage a friends-with-benefits relationship with her baby father, good for her. I think most people would like that!’ Jacqui agreed.
‘And as I said before,’ Amanda harped on, ‘we don’t know about Ian and how he felt. Maybe he felt rejected? Sometimes you’re against the current for years in a long-term relationship, especially if one of you has depression, or cancer, or another major trauma, a sick child or the fucking menopause. What then? Relationships aren’t a quixotic equation, there are too many variables – we all know that. If someone manages to be in one that is, God forbid, against the norm, so what?’
‘Well said, my friend,’ Jacqui chimed. ‘Let’s drink to relationships outside the boring box!’
We clinked glasses.
‘I hope she’s happy,’ I said.
‘At least she’s getting laid!’ Jacqui cheered.
‘Yes, lucky her,’ I moaned, hoping my fanny hadn’t knitted itself together in protest over my longest drought ever.
‘Now, I’ll be back in exactly four months. Can you please have had sex by then or I am buying you a sex robot for Christmas.’
‘Rampant Rabbit will get jealous…’
As the evening drew to a close, we gossiped about the lack of like-minded women in the Sydney suburb where Jacqui lived.
‘You know, I’ve been there a year now, and I still haven’t found my Australian equivalent of you two. I can’t call anyone a slag, or a twat as a term of endearmen
t. They’re all grown-ups, with zipped-up senses of humour. I love the women I teach yoga to, but they’re all a bit earnest.’
‘I think it will happen, but remember people like Ali and I don’t just grow on trees – we’re special!’
‘Of course you are!’
‘Even when we’re old and smelling of wee in the old people’s home I’ll still be saying you’re a slag and no one will want to visit you because you smell like a ten-day-old Tena lady,’ Amanda said with a straight face.
‘Oh, I love you girls! You get me!’ Jacqui said, leaning in to hug us. ‘See you at Christmas.’
As we got up to leave, I glanced at the bar and caught Nick’s eye. I hadn’t seen him sneak in; he was waiting for last orders, standing next to a tall blonde woman. Was he with her? He nodded his head in that blokey way, when blokes spot other blokes they know on a train platform or in a shop but don’t know what to say. So instead they ram their hands in their pockets and touch their balls for reassurance, then nod with raised eyebrows signalling: I’ve seen you, mate, and I greet you, now I’m moving on. I copied him and followed the girls outside. We still hadn’t actually spoken since I’d got shirty with him about Norman.
I walked all the way home up two hills to get some much-needed exercise. It was depressing because as soon as we hit August, the light evenings began their slide towards dusk earlier and earlier. ‘All downhill till Christmas,’ my dad always used to say after the summer solstice. He wasn’t wrong. I turned up the secret alleyway down the side of Terry’s Tool Hire, and out of nowhere someone had inched behind me, forcing the hairs to stand up on the back of my neck. I turned round, praying it was one of the Mews lot, just got off a bus back from a night out.
40
Bride of Chucky
‘It was you who stole my bike.’ Ifan was looming over me, stinking of beer. Instead of the eyes that used to flicker between adorable and sexy, his were now just disturbingly similar to those on ‘Most Wanted’ posters. Have you seen this man suspected of killing three people and two gerbils…?
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen your bike.’ I turned away from him and apprehensively strode on jelly legs towards the gate less than ten metres ahead. He roughly grabbed my arm and I pulled away, but he had a vice-like grip and dug his fingertips into my elbow, making me wince.
‘It was you. You knew the combination on the lock – it hadn’t been broken with bolt cutters.’
I shook my head, trying to worm out of his grasp.
‘And thanks to you, shouting about the infection we got, my name is mud on the strip. I bet I caught the fucking thing from you, anyway.’
‘Get off. You’re hurting me.’
‘Good. You ruined the start of something with a girl I really liked. We were going to move in together.’
‘Really? She had her own flat too, did she? You can’t stand on your own two feet, always looking for a meal ticket. I can’t believe I fell for it too.’ I couldn’t help myself. My fight-or-flight mechanism had obviously malfunctioned and instead of wriggling out of my denim jacket and flying up to the gate, I decided to stay and fight.
‘You weren’t complaining. You can’t be on your own either, always out shagging random blokes. How else do you think it was so easy for me to move in with you? You were desperate for it.’ I hit him with my free left hand, not my hand of choice, so he got off lightly with a bit of a limp effort. I managed to catch him by surprise, though, and the slap echoed satisfyingly, stinging my palm.
‘You fucking bitch.’ He jerked my arm so it felt like it popped out of its socket.
‘I would step away from her if I were you,’ a stern voice said from the bottom of the alleyway.
Ifan jumped.
‘None of your business, mate. Just me and the missus having a little barney.’ He dropped my arm and I started rubbing it.
‘I’m not your anything,’ I spat at him. ‘Don’t ever come near me again.’
Jo stepped out of the shadows and Ifan exploded into boisterous laughter. I wondered if he found her yellow shorts and black leather jacket teamed with red Adidas trainers amusing. She was carrying a ubiquitous blue plastic bag from the zombie apocalypse shop.
‘What’s so funny, you Welsh twat?’ she said in a deep growl.
‘You’re a fucking female midget. I can’t believe I thought you were a bloke.’
‘I don’t see how that makes any difference. I may be small, but there’s no cure for being a cunt. Now hop it.’
‘Or what?’ Ifan said, starting to get lairy. ‘You gonna head butt me in the knee?’
‘No, but I could grab your pathetic bollocks right now and rip them through your jeans and ram them in your mouth before you could scream “midget”.’ She stepped towards him intimidatingly and he fleetingly glanced at me in alarm. Jo did look crazy right then. Her face set in a snarl mimicking her ankle-snapping dogs, her hands bunched into neat little fists just like Bride of Chucky.
‘She means it,’ I said darkly. ‘I can kick your head in while she sits on you. She may be small, but she’s all muscle.’
‘You two are fucking mental!’ He turned on his heels and ran straight into Nick, sending him flying. Jo offered her hand and pulled him up.
‘What was going on here? You both mugging people?’
‘No, some arsehole threatened Ali. What a tool!’ Jo shook her head.
‘You OK?’ Nick asked, concerned. ‘I saw him earlier. He was at the back of the pub and followed you guys out; I didn’t think anything of it, to be honest. Do you know him?’
‘An ex-boyfriend.’
‘Come on, let’s get in the compound away from all the nutters,’ Jo said. ‘Fancy a nightcap?’
‘I will,’ I said.
‘I’ll leave you ladies to it. Glad you’re OK, Ali.’
‘I’ve got some things for your mum. Is she round next week?’
‘Oh, er, yeah, that would be great. She’d love to see you. Night.’
*
‘So, that was Ifan the cunt?’ Jo asked as she poured me a glass of port from her insane bottle collection stacked up on two curved open shelves underneath the end of one of the kitchen work surfaces. Blue Bols, crème de cassis, sherry, golden tequila, cherry liqueur, Amaretto, Calvados – all battled for space amongst innumerable other shelf mates with equally exotic labels.
‘Yes.’
‘Good riddance, I say. You’re way too good for him.’ She sipped her Calvados and eyed me knowingly over the top of her glass. ‘Whatever happened with you and Carl? You make such a nice couple.’
‘Nothing ever happened, we’re just mates.’
‘I saw how you looked at each other: there was chemistry there. Something happened, I know it. You’re good for him – you could both be very happy together.’
‘We’re not compatible. He’s also got an awful lot on his plate and his sobriety must come first.’
She looked like she was going to persuade me, but thought better of it.
‘And it’s too close to home.’
‘Yes, and don’t I know all about that!’ she sighed instead. ‘Bloody hell, Debbie hates me. I don’t know what I did wrong.’
‘She doesn’t hate you at all.’
‘Well, she made it clear she didn’t need my help. I keep fucking up. The last few ladies have all ended up being nightmares. It’s made me think, am I going for the wrong ones?’ She looked at me like I might have an answer.
‘I think it would be the blind leading the blind, me giving you advice,’ I laughed, still thinking it was a shame about her and Debs. ‘Maybe pick ones that don’t need fixing.’
‘Jesus, you’re sounding just like Francesca now. She’s always saying that, offering to cleanse my chakras, reset my head. I don’t mind reflexology and massage, and all the nice gentle things she does, but fuck me, I’m not sure I could cope with out-of-body journeying to the rainforest to find my spirit animal and then bringing it home to guide me in making choices
for the rest of my life. What if my spirit animal is a poisonous blue frog? I can’t see a frog picking me a nice lady to settle down with.’
‘It isn’t like that! You deal with your past, so you can make better choices.’
She blew through her lips like she didn’t believe me.
‘Try it, you might find it helps.’
She shook her head. ‘No, my past can stay where it is: in the past. Move forward. Anyway, I can’t do anything about Debbie. I guess things will eventually improve but it doesn’t help living in each other’s pockets here. The advantages usually outweigh the disadvantages in the Mews, but the only way I can see this being less awkward is if I go away for a while.’
‘That’s a bit drastic, isn’t it?’ I sipped my syrupy port.
‘No, I could kip in the flat in Forest Hill and do it up, rent my room out here for six months to cover the cost. One of the dog walking ladies I know told me about a colleague who needs somewhere for six months, a doctor, nice woman. I’ve met her, we had an informal chat about the possibility of her moving into my house here. But if Francesca wanted to have the flat she still could.’ She knocked back the remains of her Calvados in one hit and poured another measure. ‘I don’t know, I just think I need to get away from here for a while, get out of Debbie’s way. I keep saying the wrong things and upsetting her. How is she? I know she’s had her third dose of chemo today. I texted her to see if she needed anything, obviously got no reply. I still care about her; she’s going through something horrendous and I want to help.’
‘Elinor’s with her today. She’s poorly, apparently, very sick. I doubt she’ll text anyone back.’
‘She wouldn’t text me anyway,’ Jo said, shrugging. ‘Yeah, it’s probably better I get away. I’ve more chance of finding a nice lady without ghosts of girlfriends past hanging over me.’
‘Or maybe you should just be on your own?’ I suggested controversially. ‘I’ve realised that it’s probably what I need. I always thought I would feel better with a boyfriend, but I don’t think I will. Seeing Ifan tonight proved he still makes me feel mental, and I need to get over that. I’m going to try to consciously be on my own.’ I could almost hear Mini Amanda start an elaborate Roy Castle tap dance routine in celebration that I was finally taking some advice on board. I wasn’t convinced I believed it, though. I was honestly not like her. She loved being on her own, which is why she never had any trouble getting boyfriends and had managed to bag a second husband. That kind of natural indifference is like a man magnet, a reworking of an uncontrived ‘treat them mean, keep them keen’. I, on the other hand, would flirt with Siri just to have someone to react with.
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