Dear Anybody

by Rosa Temple

  ‘But I suppose there are some letters whose author you couldn’t guess,’ she says.

  ‘Yes,’ I blast out, quickly. ‘Like this guy called, ‘L’. Not a clue who he is.’

  ‘But you gave him some good advice a few times,’ Carey says.

  ‘Only because I could identify with his problems.’

  ‘Could you?’ She turns to me.

  ‘To a certain extent. You know you could be an Agony Aunt, Carey,’ I say trying to angle the conversation into a slightly different direction. ‘The amount of good advice you’ve given me over the last months.’

  ‘But I’m hardly a professional. It’s a little weird to think that someone writing in was taking the advice of someone who has so many problems themselves. Hardly seems right.’

  I square my shoulders.

  ‘Well L thanked me for the advice, so I couldn’t have been that far wrong, could I?’ Again I’m peeved at Carey. I feel judged. She’s looking down on me. I could leave Bridley never having told her I knew she was L but if I do that, I’ll always worry she might do something. I care too much about her to let that happen.

  I still don’t know, though, how I’m going to bring it up and my days are now well and truly numbered.

  Chapter 36

  I make it to January’s publication date with my sanity levels bordering on normal to flipping losing it big time. Carey and I joined Alexandra at Frankie’s for New Year’s Eve and Andy announced his engagement to Ruthie. It had been a magical evening. Ruthie had decorated the bar and restaurant in red berries, white pine cones and ivy leaves. I couldn’t help but feel their love and did all I could to forget my love life was in shambles and that Carey hadn’t been the same with me since Christmas lunch at Alexandra’s.

  Back at the office, after the break, Jenna gave me an invitation to the evening reception of her wedding at the end of May. I’d also had a heart to heart with Beth about her mother’s struggle with ME. I even asked her about how she was getting on with Damian and listened through gritted teeth, which I disguised well with a genuine looking smile, as she told me how in love she was with him and was so glad to be giving him a second chance. Beth is impossible to dislike and I couldn’t possibly mention my crush on Damian, the dreams I had of his head between my thighs or the plans I had of taking him to London just to rub Rob’s cheating face in my new relationship. I am happy for her. For both of them, actually.

  Problems still remaining: Carey’s happiness, my homelessness now that the sale of the flat has gone through and my unemployment. None of my pitches to magazines and newspapers have yielded any positive results. Of course there is the money from selling the flat but it is by no means a sellers’ market and with what we owe the mortgage lenders, I’ll be lucky if I can afford a second-hand tent to pitch in my parents’ back garden.

  Now that Alexandra has made an official announcement about closing down the magazine the mood at the office has nose dived. While it’s true that everyone but me is able to move on with their lives with little or no fuss, it is quite sombre at work and in some respects I’m counting the days I can leave Bridley. Not because I hate it but because I will stick out like a sore thumb here while everyone gets on with their lives. I’m dragging my heals in the kitchen because I can’t face going into work today.

  Carey comes in and whispers a good morning to me. She isn’t dressed up for going out and she hasn’t been in her studio very much. I decide then and there that we can’t go on like this. It wasn’t so long ago that things were uncomplicated between us. I don’t want to leave Bridley on a sour note with someone I care about and admire so much.

  ‘What do you say to a party?’ I ask Carey. She’s pouring herself a second cup of coffee. She drank the first one up in her room with the door closed.

  ‘A party? Where? What for?’

  ‘Carey I’m leaving in a few weeks. I need to do something to mark the occasion.’

  ‘A full-on party or a few drinks at The Crown?’ She leans against the central island and looks genuinely interested. Though she’s off with me at the moment, I have a feeling she will miss me. We’ve had great times together, Carey and I.

  ‘I’m thinking full on. Why not? It’ll be a combination of my leaving bash, my birthday and …’

  ‘And what?’ she says looking at me intently. She has done that a lot lately and sometimes I think she knows I’ve seen the Dear Vicky letter in her room.

  ‘Well, I’d throw the party in honour of you, Carey.’ I blush.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Of course you. Who was there for me when I nearly went home with a bunch of horny, young footballers? Who offered me a place to stay when everyone was telling me there was no room at the inn?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘You took me in. Hardly took a penny for my keep. You listened to my problems. Helped me face up to how ridiculous I was being about trying to ask out the local baker when I wasn’t even over my wanker of an ex.’

  ‘Which you are now?’

  ‘Getting there. Selling the flat proved to be quite cathartic when I let it sink in. Even though it wasn’t lucrative, I’ve cut ties and I can see a way forward without him.’ I sip some coffee which is cold by now, as Carey stares at me. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’

  ‘I’m just happy for you. You may not have realised it, but you’ve come a long way. I know you don’t have a job but that will change. You did a complete turnaround.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Well, you know yourself the future is uncertain. It is for many of us, even if we think we have plans and think we know where we’re going. You were afraid to move on without a boyfriend substitute. I know you won’t admit it to me or even to yourself, but you knew there was no future for you and Damian. You just needed a pair of strong arms around you. A support mechanism.’

  I find myself nodding in agreement as tears prick at my eyes.

  ‘But you proved you were strong enough on your own, Sydney. Look at what you did with the magazine. The staff love you. Alexandra is in awe of you. I am too.’

  ‘Thank you, Carey. You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.’ And this is the perfect opportunity to start the conversation about Carey moving on. We stand there, Carey in a dressing gown, me almost ready for work. We’re on proper speaking terms, being open and facing up to what is to come. Feeling like good friends again. I open my mouth, not sure how I will start this conversation when Carey’s dressing gown pocket bursts into song. Her mobile phone has one of those rings that grows louder if it’s ignored. She looks at me, apologetically.

  ‘Can I just get this?’

  I nod but she has already turned away and is answering the call. It sounds like a work assignment and I should be at work myself. I rinse my coffee cup and put it in the dishwasher. I pass Carey in the hallway, scribbling away and chatting happily about what I assume is another booking for her. I slowly mount the stairs, looking back with every other step at Carey leaned over the hall table, making notes.

  I wonder how I’ll ever bring the subject of Carey’s past up before I leave. And should I?

  As I leave my room to go back down the stairs, I hear Carey in her shower. I think about how much she has helped me with my problems. I just have to do the same for her.

  Chapter 37

  Carey being Carey has insisted that I throw my party at her house. I insist on having cleaners in the next day, but she insists I don’t. It’s Friday evening, the final edition of the magazine was out last week, my parents are down for the weekend as it’s my birthday on the Monday and everyone who is anyone from Bridley is coming to my farewell bash. Andy is helping out with the food and has made sure both he and Ruthie could be off on the same night. Beth was touch and go about coming because she didn’t want to leave her mum, but enlisted the help of a private carer.

  Jenna is the first to arrive. She has ditched her hair extensions and reverted to her amazing afro which, as she is also dressed in a vintage 60s dress, makes me
wish I’d given my party a theme. I could totally rock an afro but there was every chance Alexandra would take a Swinging 60s party to extremes and start growing marijuana in Carey’s garden. Carey is gorgeous in a black, silky top and black, skinny jeans.

  Me? I treated myself to a new dress. Maybe it’s down to stress about my and Carey’s future, but I’ve gone down a dress size and couldn’t resist a stunning red dress from a little boutique in a nearby town. It’s about all I’ve had to cheer me up for weeks.

  ‘There’s nothing left of you.’ Mum says as I hand her a glass of champagne in the kitchen doorway. ‘But you do look beautiful in that dress.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll take one of these to Dad. Where has he gotten to, anyway?’

  As Mum shrugs her shoulders and darts into the kitchen for more blinis. Jack opens the front door to Beth and Damian. Straggling in behind them is Jed. I haven’t seen him in ages and I’m aware that my smile turns to a grimace.

  ‘I invited him,’ Carey whispers into my ear.

  ‘I’ll give this to Dad,’ Mum says and rescues Dad’s drink from me on her way back to the living room. Carey pulls me back into the kitchen.

  ‘What the hell, Carey? I told you that guy gives me the creeps. All he ever does is insult me.’ I whisper this to Carey over by the fridge where I’m pulling out more creamed, spinach puffs to hand around.

  ‘I don’t know what you have against him, but I invited him the other week when I ran into him at a studio in Drydean. Trust me when I say, you two really need to talk.’

  Drydean is a large town about eleven miles from Bridley. How she ran into Jed I have no idea. I hadn’t seen him in over a month, but I sensed he’d been lurking close by. Eleven miles too close it would seem.

  I notice Beth coming towards me with a large dish covered in foil. Damian is close behind with a crate of beer. There’s no sign of his brother. He’s probably in a corner brushing up on the top ten ways to piss off the host.

  ‘Beth, I’m really glad you two could make it,’ I say greeting them with a kiss on the cheek and taking hold of what turns out to be a lasagne Beth is holding. Carey takes charge of the beers and tries to find space in the over-packed fridge. I did say in the invite that no bottles or food was required, this was all on me, but some folk didn’t listen. Like Alexandra, whose expensive hamper of party food and drink is keeping cool just outside the French doors because there just isn’t the space inside.

  There is enough food and drink for everyone to stay for a week. I’ve got spotty teenager, Ollie, to DJ. I’ve instructed him to keep the volume down as everyone arrives and the music mellow. So far, he has stuck to the brief and has instructions to take it up a notch when either Carey or I give him the go ahead.

  It’s a couple of hours into the party, the music is turned up, the last of the champagne is gone, we’re all on the beer and wine and the sofa in the middle of the living room has been moved to the side. Mum and Alexandra started the dancing and I feel as if I’m in a Strictly Come Dancing/Saturday Night Fever mash up. As soon as I see Mum trying to out twerk Alexandra I decide to go and busy myself in the kitchen.

  ‘Oh hi,’ I say to Jed who sits at the dinner table opening a bottle of beer, looking very much at home.

  ‘Hi,’ he says taking a slurp of beer. He puts the bottle down. ‘It’s a great party, Sydney. It seems a lot of people are going to miss you.’

  ‘I hope I don’t start to cry.’ I remember Alexandra’s hamper out in the garden and go out to grab it.

  ‘Here, let me,’ Jed says. He’s right behind me. ‘More supplies?’ he says, gesturing at the hamper which he holds in both arms. I quickly close the French windows before the cold air chills the room. Mind you, by the sound of the rumpus in the living room, they could all do with some cooling down.

  ‘Just plop that down on there,’ I say to Jed, pointing at the central island.

  ‘Did you buy that dress in London?’ Jed asks, unsmiling, and I can’t read his expression.

  ‘No, I bought it locally. Why?’ I say looking down at the dress. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  Jed smiles and laughs a little. It seems like a genuine smile and not a snarl. ‘Absolutely nothing. I just thought it suited you. That’s all.’

  I look around the kitchen for witnesses, Jed Gallagher has paid me a compliment, but we’re alone in the kitchen. When I turn back Jed’s eyes are still on me. A shiver runs along my body and I look at the windows to make sure they’re closed properly. They are. All of a sudden I’m uncomfortable on my own with Jed. I want to suggest we go in and join the others, but it might come across as rude. Or worse, he might think I want to dance with him. Before I can think up something to say Jed goes over to the dining table to pick up his beer and I think he’s going to leave of his own accord.

  ‘Did Carey tell you I bumped into her recently?’ he turns and asks.

  Just then Mags and her best friend come staggering in. ‘Anything to munch on Syd?’ she asks.

  ‘Open this,’ I say pointing at the hamper. ‘There are all sorts of goodies in there.’

  I turn to Jed, worried that this is some kind of set up on Carey’s part. Her way of reminding me that I was after the wrong brother all along.

  ‘Yes, she did,’ I answer vaguely.

  ‘She said you’d be in between jobs soon.’

  ‘Yes.’ Out with it, Jed.

  ‘I’ve got two jobs opening up where I am,’ he simply says and slots his buttocks onto the dining table, still holding his bottle of beer.

  ‘Oh yes?’ I have no idea where Jed works and what on earth the two jobs could be. I always thought he was unemployed because he hung around the coffee shop looking like a spare part. For all I knew he could be a farmer and he might need me to clean out the pigs. I suppose I could do that for a while, it would be an excuse to stay in Bridley for a start.

  ‘You never asked me what I did,’ he goes on with a slight smile. ‘I get the feeling you don’t like me very much so you might not like me as a boss.’

  If he kept his distance, I’m sure we’d be fine. I wouldn’t mind having a good looking boss to ogle at as I feed the pigs. Although he is a lot more serious than Damian and nowhere near as flirtatious, Jed hasn’t missed out on the looks department. I’d go so far as to say he is extremely good looking and a lot sexier than his brother. He does have an effortless charm and he isn’t being an arsehole to me tonight. I suppose I should hear him out.

  ‘I’ve been the boss for the last few months,’ I say. ‘But I’m good at taking orders, I suppose.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have to take orders. I need people who can work on their own initiative while being part of a team. I mean, there is a chain of command but as far as I know no one who works for me has ever called me an arsehole.’

  I can feel the blood drain from my face. Did I ever say that word out loud to Jed? How could he know that was one of the terms I used to describe him? Did Carey tell him? She wouldn’t. But wait.

  ‘Yes, I saw what you wrote about me in your notebook,’ Jed says with raised eyebrows. ‘Over the years I’ve learned to read upside down, over someone’s shoulder, you name it. It’s what I do.’

  ‘Jesus, Jed. You must think I’m the arsehole. I shouldn’t have called you that. I didn’t mean it. I mean, you were a bit of an arsehole to me when we first met.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ He sips another drop of beer ‘There was a lot going on at work. I think I let the stress of work get to me. Went too long without having had a holiday. That’s why I had to walk away for a while. Spent some time back with the family and a long cycling holiday with friends.’

  ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘Not surprising. I never said and you never asked. Just as you don’t know anything about the job I do.’

  I take his bottle of beer and help myself to a sip. ‘Are you going to tell me?’

  ‘Yes, I’m News Director for West Midlands Now. That’s the local television network.’

  ‘I’ve heard of it
. I’ve seen the news programme. So, the job is on the newsroom? You need a runner?’

  ‘No, a writer. I know you can write. Already told you I thought you were good.’

  ‘Yes, I remember.’ I can’t stop myself grinning. Jed retrieves his bottle of beer and knocks back a big mouthful.

  ‘Someone has gone on maternity leave and someone else is leaving for an American network,’ he says before casually adding, ‘interested?’

  I’m trying not to let my eyes bulge from my head, but I can’t help it.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he says. ‘You have to know, the hours are long. Late nights, early mornings.’

  ‘I’ll take it,’ I say without even stopping to consider the logistics. Would I need to move to Drydean? What is the pay? Could I buy a car and commute from Carey’s? When can I start?

  ‘Come in and take a look at the set up before you decide. I can see you’ve had a lot to drink and from what I can gather, accepting a job while under the influence was what brought you here in the first place.’

  ‘And I haven’t regretted a moment.’

  A throng of merry voices finds its way into the kitchen and as I turn I see a conga line, led by Jenna, snaking its way around the kitchen. Someone grabs my arm and clamps hold of my hips, so I have no choice but to join the line which whisks me out of the kitchen and away from Jed who is either laughing at me or with me. I’d like to imagine it’s the latter.

  *

  I’ve conga’d and danced until I can’t take anymore. I’ve laughed and chatted until I’m hoarse. I’ve mopped up and collected empty plates and glasses until I’m going into spasms about the big tidy up the following day. Everyone has left, my parents are asleep in my room and I can’t find Carey.

  I trudge, very slowly, up the stairs because for some reason the staircase keeps veering off in weird directions like the stairs in a Harry Potter film. I cling to the bannister and try to focus on the linen cupboard on the top landing. Inside it are blankets and sheets and some way or other I’ve got to get a sheet and a blanket or two back to the living room so I can get some sleep. I yawn a vodka and curried chickpea patty yawn and notice there is a light on in Carey’s room and the door is slightly ajar. I have to go and thank her for a wonderful night and for giving up her home to a bunch of countryside marauders, some of whom didn’t even know Carey until tonight. I haven’t told her about my conversation with Jed and that, thanks to her, I may have found myself a job. A darned good one at that.