How to Break Your Own Heart

by Maggie Alderson

  ‘Amadeus?’ I said to her in the kitchen. It was just the kind of unwitty pretentious code name he would choose.

  She nodded.

  ‘Whatever did you invite him for?’ I asked her.

  ‘I think he’s fun,’ said Kiki. ‘He’s so brilliantly indiscreet about his clients.’

  Sometimes, I thought, she had very poor taste in people.

  ‘So, let me see,’ I said. ‘We’ve got Amadeus, Princess Fiona, Shrek, Discount Diva, Dr Beat – so that just leaves Secret Squirrel…’

  Kiki nodded again, grinning, and disappeared back to our guests.

  The doorbell rang while I was making the rouille for my bouillabaisse. I had designed the whole menu round the fishetarian, who I now realized was Charles bloody Dowdent – if I’d known I would have made beef Wellington and given him some fish fingers – and when I went back into the drawing room Secret Squirrel was installed and happily chatting to Sonny.

  It was Joseph.

  23

  ‘Am I a reality-TV star?’ said Oliver.

  ‘No!’ we all shouted.

  ‘Am I a man?’ asked Dan.

  ‘No!’ we yelled.

  ‘Am I a man?’ I asked.

  ‘No!’ everyone screamed.

  We were playing ‘names’, or ‘foreheads’, or whatever you call it when you stick a Post-It note to everyone’s head with a famous name written on it and they have to guess who they are one question at a time.

  Round and round we went, the answers getting louder and louder as we got increasingly overexcited, each of us desperately trying to remember the information we’d gleaned so far.

  ‘OK,’ I said, a few turns later. ‘I’m not a man, I am alive and I’m not a film star, which seems a shame.’ I looked at everyone else’s heads. ‘Am I Russian?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes!’ they all said, which was not that surprising, because they all were too.

  Kiki had put ‘Rasputin’ on Oliver’s head. I’d seen it and put ‘Anna Karenina’ on Dan’s head to continue the theme, and so it had gone on.

  Sonny was ‘Nureyev’, Connor was ‘Dr Zhivago’ – which was funny, because he really was a doctor – Charles was ‘Putin’, Kiki was ‘Catherine the Great’ and Joseph, of course, was ‘Stalin’.

  I had no idea who I was, but Charles had put it there, so I expected it to be something dopey. I really wished he wasn’t sitting next to me, but he’d jumped into that chair before Kiki had a chance to dictate her placement, so I was stuck with him.

  After several more rounds I worked out I was Anna Kournikova.

  ‘Well, you used to be, darling,’ said Oliver, ‘before I cut your stupid hair off.’

  After that we played another game where you went round the table each saying a word which made grammatical and narrative sense following on from the last one but didn’t finish the sentence. If you did finish a sentence you were out. It was much harder than you’d think, and Joseph was brilliant at it.

  ‘Typical bloody lawyer,’ said Kiki. ‘Endless words, all of it bollocks. You’re not charging us by the hour for this, are you, Joe?’

  He stuck his tongue out at her in response, and I felt a strange little pang when I saw it. They seemed so comfortable with each other, I wondered for a moment whether there wasn’t more between them than just a casual friendship. And although I knew it was completely unreasonable, I didn’t like the idea of that at all.

  It made me feel complicated in ways I didn’t quite understand and didn’t want to dwell on. I told myself not to be so stupid and switched my attention to the next game.

  For that one we paired off into teams and had to take it in turns to guess the identity of the famous person whose name your partner had pulled out of a hat, from minimal clues. ‘Big lips. Singer Rolling Stones…’ ‘British woman prime minister. Handbag…’ That kind of thing.

  You had to do as many as possible in sixty seconds, and it had us all completely hysterical. Kiki and Joseph won and congratulated themselves with extravagant high fives. I tried not to mind that – or how rubbish Charles and I had been. He didn’t even get: ‘Boy band. Stoke-on-Trent. Angels.’ What an arse.

  ‘OK,’ said Kiki, after we’d all had a bit of a rest. ‘I’ve got another game. Joseph, can you open another bottle? I just need to get some matches.’

  Kiki disappeared out of the room, and Joseph went round the table topping up all our glasses. When he got to me he put one hand on my shoulder. My head snapped round to look up at him.

  ‘More champagne, madame?’ he said, bowing with mock formality, belied by the smile in his dark-blue eyes.

  ‘Yes, another bottle or two would be lovely, thank you,’ I said, hoping I wasn’t blushing, but fairly sure I was.

  He filled my glass and gave my shoulder an almost imperceptible squeeze before he took his hand away. Once again working on its own private sat-nav system, my head swivelled to look at him as he moved on round the table.

  His bottom looked particularly fine in the nicely wrecked old jeans he was wearing, I noticed, before I forced myself to look away, once again furious with myself that I couldn’t just relax around him. One bloody kiss, twenty years before, and it seemed I was condemned to feel twitchy around him for the rest of my life.

  It was like some kind of curse out of a Hans Christian Andersen story, and I was glad when Kiki reappeared to distract me a moment later, her hands full of restaurant matchboxes. She tipped them all out on to the table and gave us ten each.

  ‘Are we playing cribbage?’ asked Joseph.

  ‘Shut up and listen,’ said Kiki, smacking him on his upper arm, a limb which I couldn’t help noticing looked tanned and attractive under the short sleeve of his pale-blue polo shirt.

  ‘Now, has everyone got a full glass?’ continued Kiki. ‘OK, this is how you play. I’m going to think of something that I’ve never done, right? And if any you have ever done it, you have to give me a match each. OK?’

  ‘I don’t understand…’ said Charles.

  ‘Cribbage is great fun, you know…’ said Joseph.

  ‘Shut up, all of you!’ said Kiki. ‘We’ll just start playing, and you’ll work it out as we go along.’ She thought for a moment. ‘OK. I’ve never been to India,’ she said.

  ‘I have,’ said Charles. ‘Last time I was there, of course, was for Liz and Arun’s wedding…’

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ said Oliver, chucking a match across the table to Kiki. ‘And give her a fucking match.’

  I was still a bit confused. ‘I haven’t been to India,’ I said dumbly. ‘So do I give you a match or not?’

  ‘Not,’ said Kiki. ‘You only give a match when you have done the thing that the other person says they haven’t done. OK? Right, Joseph, your go.’

  ‘I’ve never been to Ibiza,’ he said. Oliver, Sonny, Dan, Connor, Kiki and Charles all gave him a match. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘I’m loaded. How about you, Amelia – got a match for me?’

  I shook my head. ‘I’ve never been there,’ I said. ‘Innocent as charged.’

  It was Connor’s go. ‘I’ve never been to Scotland,’ he said.

  ‘I have!’ I said, excitedly and gave him a match. Everyone else gave him one too.

  ‘Ooooh,’ said Connor. ‘I’m rich in matches.’

  ‘It doesn’t just have to be places,’ said Kiki. ‘ Think more laterally.’

  ‘Um,’ said Dan. ‘I’ve never had a tooth filling. Does that work?’

  ‘Perfect,’ said Kiki, clapping her hands.

  Oliver, Sonny, Joseph, Charles and I all gave him matches.

  ‘I knew that would get me a good score with English people,’ said Dan. He leaned across the table to Kiki. ‘We’re the dentally divine divas, baby.’

  She bared her perfect white choppers at him.

  It was my go next and my mind went blank. It seemed really easy when someone else was doing it, but now it was my turn I couldn’t think of anything.

  ‘I’ve never broken a bone,’ I said, inspiration suddenly
striking. I held out my hand to Joseph. ‘Hand it over, Renwick. I know you’ve broken both your wrists, because the tree you fell out of was in my parents’ back garden.’

  He grinned at me. ‘Should I give her two?’ he asked Kiki. ‘One for each wrist?’

  ‘No, smartarse,’ she said. ‘Just one.’

  I did quite well with that one. Charles, Sonny and Connor all gave me matches too, with Charles going into way too much detail about how he had broken his ankle on a black ski run at St Moritz.

  ‘Shame it wasn’t your neck,’ said Oliver.

  Charles was next up for the game and came out with a typically lame one, saying he’d never been married – not very bright in that crowd. He only got matches from me and Joseph, who caught my eye as I passed my match to Charles.

  ‘Although perhaps we should both only give half a match at the moment, eh, Amelia?’ he said, smiling at me sadly. I nodded back slowly. He had a point.

  Oliver was next and did quite well saying he’d never had a dog. Sonny had never seen The Exorcist, and I was the only other one who hadn’t. Kiki said she’d never shoplifted anything, and I was shocked when everyone else gave her a match.

  ‘Joseph Renwick!’ I said. ‘I’m going to tell my dad.’

  ‘You’d better not,’ he said. ‘Your brother stole a Yorkie bar from the school tuckshop the same break-time I stole a Crunchie.’

  On his turn, Joseph had never watched Big Brother. Connor had never been skiing, Dan had never been to a football match and I’d never been to a rave. Charles the arse had never lived North of the Park or South of the River. Oliver had never been on a jet ski – and never fucking wanted to because they were for total fucking wankers. Sonny had never eaten sushi and Kiki had never passed her driving test.

  Round and round we went, the stakes getting higher as we racked our brains for things we hadn’t done but thought everyone else would have.

  Joseph got matches from everyone except me for saying he’d never taken ecstasy, so on my next turn I took his lead and said I’d never taken cocaine. Every single one of them gave me a match. Kiki said she’d never taken heroin and got one match – from Charles. I thought it was quite brave of him and, on his next turn, he actually came up with a doozie.

  ‘I’ve never had sex with a man,’ he said.

  Amid much whooping and hollering, we all – except Joseph – gave him a match. Oliver tried to give him all his, but Kiki wouldn’t let him.

  ‘Hang on a minute, Charlie,’ she said, reaching over as if she were about to take her match back. ‘Didn’t you go to Oundle?’

  Charles threw a cork at her.

  ‘I’ve never had sex with more than four men at once,’ said Oliver, who was next.

  Kiki laughed so hard champagne came down her nose and Joseph had to smack her on the back until she recovered. Then Dan passed Oliver a match and we all fell about laughing.

  ‘Kiki?’ said Oliver, holding out his hand. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something? A little night in Ibiza?’

  ‘It was only three!’ she said. ‘You little shit. And there were girls there too, so it doesn’t count. Your go, Sonny.’

  He looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve never kissed a girl,’ he said.

  Kiki and I looked at each other with wide eyes and, before I realized what was happening, Kiki stood up and planted her mouth on his. She had both her hands firmly around his head, and it looked like she had her tongue stuck right down his throat.

  Oliver was squealing. He was so outraged he couldn’t get any words out.

  ‘Get off him, you fucking slut!’ he managed eventually, but Kiki had already finished.

  ‘You have now,’ she said, sitting back in her chair and smirking. ‘Nice,’ she said to me.

  I was laughing so much I could hardly breathe.

  Oliver had a disgusted look on his face. ‘I’ll have to get him fumigated,’ he said, stroking Sonny’s cheek. ‘Oh, what the fuck, I’ll do it myself.’ He sat on Sonny’s knee and kissed him for what seemed like several minutes. We all applauded.

  ‘Right,’ said Oliver, sitting back on his own chair and smiling happily at us all. ‘Who’s next?’

  ‘Um, do I get any matches?’ said Sonny plaintively.

  ‘Ooh,’ said Kiki. ‘ Tricky. What do you reckon, Joseph? You’re the expert in international law.’

  Joseph rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. ‘Interesting case,’ he said, deliberately peering at us over his glasses. ‘No precedents I can think of. So, as I understand it, the party of the first part had not at the time of his initial witnessed statement kissed a girl – is this correct, Mr Sonny?’ Sonny nodded. ‘Well, then, I think the matches should be assigned according to that statement and the outcome should not be influenced by events further and subsequent to it.’

  ‘So do I give him a fucking match, or not, Yoda?’ said Oliver.

  ‘If you have kissed a girl, give him a match,’ said Joseph, throwing one across to Sonny.

  Charles, Dan – and Kiki – also gave Sonny a match each. Then so did Oliver.

  Kiki squeaked like a parrot. Oliver shrugged.

  ‘I was thirteen at the time,’ he said. ‘Bowie kissed girls so I thought I’d better try it. Didn’t like it…’

  After that the game continued to crank up to new levels of outrage.

  Joseph said he’d never rimmed anyone – a term which had to be explained to me – and got matches from everyone except me. Connor said he’d never slept with anyone over forty-nine and got matches from Kiki and Charles – and a play slap from Dan, who was fifty on his next birthday.

  Dan said he had never had sex more than six times in twenty-four hours with the same person and got matches from Sonny and Oliver, who was punching the air in triumph, shouting: ‘Eeeee-zee-y!’

  Then Joseph casually tossed a match over to him, which momentarily shut Oliver up.

  ‘Nice work, straight boy,’ he said after a moment, in tones of bald admiration. ‘It’s always the brainy ones you have to watch. Half their IQ is embedded in their cocks.’

  ‘Oh, do give it a rest, Ollie,’ said Kiki. ‘ That was almost too vulgar even for me.’

  Ollie waggled his tongue at her in a supremely obscene gesture. Then it was my turn.

  ‘I’ve never had an orgasm,’ I said.

  I didn’t think twice before I said it. Everyone else was being so outrageously frank, and it didn’t seem a big deal to me, but the table went completely silent. I’d thought it was brilliant, but suddenly no one was laughing.

  ‘What?’ I said, bewildered.

  ‘Amelia!’ said Kiki, looking horrified. ‘Are you serious?’

  I shrugged. It was true, I hadn’t.

  ‘I told you she was fucking frigid,’ said Oliver triumphantly, trying to grab a match from Kiki’s pile. ‘I want a bonus match.’

  ‘Come on,’ I said, still delighted with my triumph. ‘Give me your matches then.’

  And then, seeming to act as one, they each gave me all of their matches. This time Kiki didn’t intervene. In fact, she stood up, got the large box of kitchen matches out of the drawer next to the cooker and tipped them all out on to my pile too.

  ‘Look!’ I cried, picking up handfuls of matches from my huge cache and letting them fall back on to the table. ‘I’m the Abramovich of matches. I’ve won! I’ve won! I’ve so won!’

  Still, there was silence. I looked at Kiki.

  ‘Have you?’ she said quietly.

  After that, the dinner party broke up pretty quickly. Dan and Connor were first to leave, professing jet lag, closely followed by Sonny and Oliver, who was claiming they had ‘shag lag’.

  There was the usual ruckus, banter and kissy kissy as they said goodbye, and while everyone else seemed to be back on a high from all the laughs we’d had, I was feeling lower with every passing moment.

  They’d all been so outrageous it hadn’t seemed a big deal to say what I had at the time. But now humiliation was gathering momentum fast. What had I been
thinking to reveal something so personal?

  Leaving Joseph and Charles to drink yet more champagne with Kiki in the drawing room, I went out to the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher, hoping they would soon leave and I wouldn’t have to see them again that night. Possibly ever.

  I was just putting the dinner plates into the lower rack when Charles came in. I carried on stacking, hoping he would take whatever he’d come for and piss off. Instead, he came over and pressed himself against me while I was bending over.

  I stood up sharply.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I said, turning round and nearly falling backwards over the open door of the dishwasher as I tried to get away from him. He grabbed me as I stumbled and didn’t let go.

  Then, with one movement, he turned me round so my back was pushed uncomfortably against the kitchen worktop. His horrible orange face was millimetres away from mine and he was rubbing himself against me lower down as he put his mouth right on to my ear.

  ‘I can help with that problem of yours, you know,’ he said, wetting my ear with his hot breath. ‘I am an artist of cunnilingus. You know what they call me, don’t you? The fastest tongue in sw1.’ He flicked it in and out of my ear to make his point.

  ‘Will you get off me!’ I protested, but he didn’t. Instead his hand found its way under my dress and was advancing fast on my left breast while his mouth was clearly on its way over to mine.

  I took my chance and yelled. ‘KIKI! HELP!’

  I heard footsteps running into the kitchen, but it wasn’t Kiki – it was Joseph.

  ‘Leave her alone!’ he shouted at Charles. ‘Let go of her.’

  He pulled Charles off me, pushing him away so hard he fell against the kitchen table and sprawled on to the floor.

  ‘Fuck off, sleazebag,’ yelled Joseph at him. ‘Get out of here, before I kick you out.’

  Then he put one arm gently around my shoulder, delicately pulling my dress over my exposed breast with his other hand. I started crying and buried my face in his shoulder.

  ‘What on earth is going on?’ said Kiki, appearing in the doorway. ‘I was in the loo and I heard all this shouting.’