by Josie Silver
Before we go through the glass doors into the bar, she catches hold of my hand to stop me.
“Listen, Lu, there’s something I need to say.” We stand close together and she squeezes my fingers. “I can’t fly to the other side of the world without saying sorry for the way I was about…well, you know, everything.”
“Oh God, Sar, you don’t need to apologize,” I say, choking back tears already. I don’t think our argument is something we’ll ever talk about without being emotional. “Or maybe let me apologize too. I hated so much about what happened that day.”
She nods, her lip trembling. “I said some horrible things to you. I didn’t mean them. Missing your wedding day is the worst thing I’ve ever done.”
“I hurt you. I never wanted to, Sar.”
She dashes her hand over her eyes. “I should have accepted your bracelet. It was the loveliest thing anyone has ever given me. I love you like a sister, Lu, you’re my best friend in the entire bloody world.”
I’m wearing the bracelet right now, and I do exactly as I’ve planned to. I open the clasp and slip it off, then fasten it around her wrist. We both look at it, and she grips my hand really tight.
“There,” I say, my voice shaky. “It’s where it belongs.”
“I’ll always treasure it.” Her voice catches in her throat.
I smile through my tears. “I know you will. Now come on.” I pull her into a hug. “Dry your eyes. Tonight’s supposed to be a happy night.”
We hang on tight to each other; it’s an “I’m sorry” hug, and an “I love you” hug, and a “what am I going to do without you” hug.
Luke pulls me into a headlock as soon as he spots me in the bar.
“Now we can start the party,” he says with a grin. “She’s been watching the door for you.”
He’s adorable. Built like a rugby player, loud and full of sunshine, he only has eyes for Sarah. When she and Jack were together, I thought I saw love. And perhaps it was love, of sorts, but not of this sort, and certainly not on this scale. Sarah and Luke ooze love from their bones.
“Laurie.”
I turn as someone touches my arm.
“Jack! Sarah didn’t know if you’d be able to make it.” Pleasure and relief wash through me at the unexpected sight of him.
He dips and kisses my cheek, his hand warm on my back. “I wasn’t sure we could come until this morning,” he says. “It’s really good to see you.”
We. I look at him, and for a few seconds we say nothing at all. Then he looks away, toward a woman in a cerise dress who’s just appeared beside him with a couple of glasses of champagne in her hand. He smiles as he accepts one, slinging his arm loosely around her waist.
“Laurie, this is Amanda.”
“Oh,” I say, and then catch myself and overcompensate. “Hi! It’s good to meet you at last, I’ve heard so much about you!” I haven’t really; Jack’s mentioned her in passing in emails and I’ve seen her on his Facebook page, but somehow it hadn’t quite prepared me for seeing them together in the flesh. She’s quite beautiful, in a gilded blond kind of way. Her chin-length flapper-girl waves look as if they’ve been set by one of those super-cool celebrity stylists, and she’s wearing her dress with a black leather jacket and ankle boots. She’s glamorous in an edgy way, and the watchful look in her blue eyes doesn’t quite marry up with the warmth of her voice.
“Laurie.” She smiles, air-kissing me on both cheeks. “We meet at last.”
I try not to overanalyze her words. At last? What does she mean by that? Her eyes linger on me, as if she wants to say something else.
We’re saved from the need for further immediate conversation by Sarah clapping her hands and ushering us all through into the restaurant. There’s fifteen or so of us, a mix of Sarah and Luke’s friends and closest colleagues. I glance at the two circular tables and see Oscar’s place card beside mine, with Jack on my other side, and then Amanda. I sigh and wonder if it’s too late to mess around with the cards, because without Oscar to balance us out, this is going to be testing. I don’t recognize any of the other names on the table. Joy.
“Looks like I bagged the best seat in the house,” Jack says with a grin, coming to stand beside me as he surveys the table.
My smile is so tight I wonder how my teeth don’t ping out and bounce off the walls. I doubt there’s enough wine in this hotel to make tonight bearable. I’m losing my best friend, my husband hasn’t turned up, and now I’m to spend the next couple of hours making polite conversation with Jack’s beautiful new girlfriend.
I take my seat and catch the waiter’s eye as he circulates with the wine. I think we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other tonight.
Jack
Bloody Oscar. The one time I actually wouldn’t mind him being here and he can’t be bothered to even be in the same country. Although from what I gather, he’s practically emigrated of late. Poor Laurie, it must be pretty lonely for her.
“Great,” Amanda sighs as she scans the set menu card. I sigh inwardly too, because eating out with her is always a bit of a gamble. She’s pescatarian and sugar-free, although the sugar in wine gets some kind of special pass because she says the alcohol neutralizes it. I’m pretty sure she’s made that up right off the top of her head, something I routinely tease her about. Tonight, though, I really want us to make a good impression on everyone, which is tricky, because the starter is duck liver pâté and the main course is chicken, and it’s my fault no one knows that my girlfriend doesn’t eat either. Sarah sent an email a while ago asking if anyone was vegetarian and I never answered.
“I’ll sort it,” I murmur.
She looks at me as the wine waiter fills up her glass. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll have other things.” She catches Laurie’s eye. “Pescatarian.” She chucks in an apologetic smile. “I hate having to make a scene.”
I try to catch Laurie’s attention, but she’s studying her menu again.
“So what do you do, Mandy?”
I smart on her behalf; the Australian guy—I presume one of Luke’s friends—seated across the table couldn’t know it, but if there’s one other thing Amanda’s a bit of a stickler about it’s not being called Mandy.
“Amanda,” she corrects him, smiling to soften it. “I’m an actress.”
“Bonza!” The guy seems like he’s already had one too many. “Anything I’d have seen you in?”
This guy seems to have some kind of sixth sense for all the wrong questions. Amanda’s doing pretty well; she’s been in a couple of programs local to Scotland and has a minor recurring role on a soap, but it’s highly unlikely this guy’s going to have heard of them.
“Amanda’s on a soap up in Scotland,” I say.
“It’s just a small part,” she amends, laughing.
The guy loses interest, and I lean in and speak quietly so only she can hear me. “You okay? Sorry if it’s a bit weird.”
She smiles gamely. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
She turns and strikes up polite conversation with the guy on her other side, leaving me and Laurie eating awkwardly next to each other. I’m not sure bringing Amanda today was my smartest move; she seems fine, but I’m starting to realize that I’m not.
“It’s good,” Laurie says, gesturing toward the pâté with her knife.
I nod. “How’re things?”
She pushes her salad around the plate. “Work’s interesting. I’m covering women’s health features mainly, so lots to learn.”
“I’ll bet.”
“You?”
“Love it, yeah. Late nights, but I like that.”
Laurie lays down her cutlery. “Edinburgh looks lovely from your photographs.”
“It is. You should come up sometime, I’ll give you the guided tour.” I c
an feel Amanda stiffen slightly beside me, and on my other side Laurie looks uncertain. “You and Oscar, I mean, obviously,” I add, to make it better. Then I make it worse again by tagging on, “If he can take the time off.” What am I doing? Having the two of them visit is my idea of perfect hell.
I’m relieved when the waiting staff clear the plates and Laurie excuses herself from the table. I smile at the wine waitress to come and fill me up again. There’s only one way to deal with this level of social horror.
Laurie
What an evening. Every time I get a couple of minutes with Sarah we set each other off crying, Oscar’s a no-show, and Jack’s girlfriend is annoyingly nice, even if she is a pescatarian. I took myself to the ladies to give myself a stern talking-to after our first course, and told my reflection that she’s Jack’s choice of partner, and he’s my friend, so I need to try to be hers. In fact, it must have taken a lot of balls for her to come today. Since then I’ve asked her more about her job and Edinburgh, and she actually seems like an interesting person.
“Are you from London originally, Amanda?” I asked, because her cockney twang placed her as clearly as if she’d been wearing a pearly queen jacket.
“Through and through,” she grinned. “Although you wouldn’t know it when I’m on set. My character, Daisy, is as Scottish as heather and shortbread, hen.” She slipped seamlessly into a thick Scottish burr, convincing enough to make me laugh despite myself.
“Wow, that’s really good,” I said.
“Practice makes perfect,” she said with a shrug. She went on to tell me about some of the auditions she’s been on recently—I never realized it was such hard work to be an actress. Perhaps she’ll be good for Jack. She clearly has an idea of what she wants, and isn’t afraid to work hard to get it.
Up to today I hadn’t really registered her as being all that important in Jack’s life. But now that I’ve met her, I’m finding her harder to dismiss. Not that I want to; it’s just a jolt to see him with someone like her. Someone who might actually be relevant to his future. It’s just…I don’t know. It’s something I can’t quite put into words; like I never imagined his life in Scotland becoming his life forever. I want him to be happy, of course I do, it’s just a bit of a surprise. That’s the word. She’s surprised me.
I smile at the pink-cheeked waitress who appears and places my main course down in front of me. “Thank you, it looks delicious.”
Jack does the same, and while we wait for someone to appear with the salmon they’re hastily preparing for Amanda, he nods across the room to the wine waitress to swing back his way.
Jack
I feel a bit bad for saying yes to dessert when Amanda is so tough on herself about being sugar-free, but it’s some kind of chocolate-three-ways thing and I’ve had too much wine to summon the willpower to refuse. She excuses herself from the table for a breath of air, leaving me and Laurie to stuff our faces.
“Amanda seems nice,” she says.
I nod. “She’s a good girl.”
Laurie doesn’t seem as impressed with her pudding as I am. She’s eating around the edges, picking at it. “You’ve been together for a while now, haven’t you?”
“Six months or so.” It’s probably a few more than that; I still haven’t quite forgiven myself for listening to Laurie’s distressed message about her dad with Amanda’s hand around my cock. We met at a friend of a friend’s engagement party—there tends to be an overlap between TV and radio, the circles are surprisingly small, especially in Edinburgh. She looked as if she wanted to be there as much as I did and we got talking, and one thing led to another. I wasn’t expecting it to be anything more than casual, but somehow she seems to have become part of my life.
“Is it serious?”
I stop eating and look at Laurie. “You sound like my mother.”
She rolls her eyes. “I was only asking.”
“I like her a lot. She knows what she wants, and we have fun together.”
We lapse into silence, and I wash my pudding down with wine.
“How’s married life?”
She pushes her dessert plate away half eaten and draws her wineglass toward her. “Good. Frustrating sometimes with Oscar being away so much, but yeah.” She laughs lightly and shrugs. “Sorry. Smug marrieds.”
“They’ll be next,” I say to change the subject, nodding toward Sarah and Luke at the next table. Laurie follows my gaze, thoughtful.
“Do you ever regret not staying together?”
I don’t have to think twice. “God, no. Look at her. She can’t keep the smile off her face. She never looked like that when she was with me.”
Laurie’s eyes are still on Sarah. “I just wish they’d stay here. I’m going to miss her so much.” She drains her glass. “Where’s the waitress? I need another.”
* * *
I think I might have had a glass too many. I’m not falling-down drunk, but I’m definitely not sober either. We moved into the function room a while back; there’s a band on, playing the usual slightly too loud party covers. I reach up and adjust the small hearing aid I was fitted with when I finally got my act together and saw a specialist. I hadn’t been in Scotland all that long; moving away was the right thing for my health, both physical and mental.
Amanda’s disappeared off to take a call outside, and Laurie’s dancing with Luke a few feet away. I say dancing, but it’s closer to acrobatics; he’s throwing her around until she’s breathless with laughter.
“Hey, Fred Astaire,” I say, ambling over when the band finally changes tack to something more mellow. “I can see now why Sarah’s so smitten.”
“That woman is my heart,” he says emphatically. I’m sure it’s the several beers he’s had, but his eyes definitely well up. I shake his hand; there will always be a strange link between us. He was the first person on the scene of my accident, and even though I can’t recall events clearly, I have a memory of him crouching beside me. And now he’s with Sarah, and it might have been odd but it isn’t, because they’re so obviously made for each other. I don’t know him all that well, but it seems like he’s solid gold.
“Take good care of her for us,” I say. “Mind if I cut in?”
He twirls Laurie around one last time and dips her over his arm. “She’s all yours, mate.”
She raises her eyebrows at Luke. “Do I get any say in this?”
He winks and kisses her cheek. “Sorry, Laurie; I should go and check on the wife anyway.” He grins at me as he walks away.
Laurie stands in front of me. She’s bright-eyed and flushed. She looks more like she used to, happy and carefree.
“Dance with me, Lu? For old times’ sake?”
Laurie
I don’t know what to say, because I want to say yes. Or rather, a small part of me wants to. The greater, more sensible part of me knows that Jack is a place I shouldn’t go. Especially when I’ve lost count of the glasses of wine I’ve drunk.
“Please?”
I glance around. “Where’s Amanda?”
He scrubs his hand over his hair and shrugs. “She went outside to make a call.” He frowns. “Or take a call. She won’t mind.”
“Sure?”
He laughs, as if it’s a stupid question. “She’s not a jealous psycho, Lu, she knows you’re one of my oldest friends.”
I can’t help smiling, because his laugh has been missing from my life for so long. It’s late and the lights are low, and his green-gold eyes are the same green-gold eyes I looked into one December night from the top deck of a bus on Camden High Street. It seems like a lifetime ago. For that girl, I can’t say no.
“Okay.”
He draws me against him, one hand warm around my waist, the other holding mine.
“I can’t believe she’s actually leaving,” I say. “It’s too fa
r away.”
“It’ll be okay,” he says, quiet by my ear. “Nowhere’s that far away these days.”
“But I can’t call Australia every day, and she’ll be so busy.”
“Call me sometimes instead, then.” He rests his chin on the top of my head.
This isn’t going to plan. I came here determined to be polite and civil to Jack if he was here tonight, nothing more and nothing less. Yet somehow I’m dancing with him, his hand rubbing up and down my spine, and time seems to have done something strange, because I’m not the Laurie I was a couple of hours ago. I’m the Laurie I was seven years ago. Oh, Oscar, why didn’t you come?
“I remember you telling me once about the boy you danced with at the school disco,” he says, low laughter in his throat. “Don’t go and head-butt me.”
I lay my cheek against his chest. “We’ve shared a lot over the years, haven’t we?”
“Too much?”
I can’t answer him honestly, because what I’d have to say is yes, too much. You take up too much of my heart and it’s not fair on my husband.
“Did you tell Sarah that I kissed you? Is that why she wasn’t at your wedding?”
I’ve always known he’d ask me this one day or another. There are very few good reasons why Sarah would miss my wedding, and he probably sussed that she didn’t have any family emergency.
“Yes, but I didn’t say you did it, just that it happened.” We turn slowly under the glittering low lights, pressed together from shoulder to hip. “I couldn’t lie to her face when she asked me.”
“I lost you for a while afterward.” His breath warms my ear. “I hated it.”
“Me too.”
He looks down at me, and then he lays his forehead against mine. There’s no one else in this room anymore for me. He’s Jack O’Mara, and I’m Laurie James, and I close my eyes and remember us.