The Long Weekend

by Clare Lydon

  “Feels like I’m in the army,” Darren grumbled as he blew hot breath onto a wine glass and rubbed around its edges. However, even though he was moaning, he had to admit to taking some pride in performing his task. He, too, loved a shiny glass and sparkling cutlery, totally understanding Stevie’s attention to detail.

  “You should go on The Apprentice, you know – you’d whip some of those young idiots into shape.”

  Stevie laughed. “Vic says that every time it’s on.” She chewed a mouthful of carrot. “The only problem is I might kill them before I whip them into shape – they’re all so detestable.”

  “Which is exactly why you should go on there, to show you don’t have to be that person to succeed in business,” Darren said.

  “Nah, I’m too old for that shit. Now maybe if you’d said it 20 years ago, I might have done.” Stevie paused and put her hand to her chin. “But you know what, scrap that.” She gave Darren a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’d have been far too busy being up my own arse to apply for something like that back then.”

  ***

  Outside, Tash and Laura had slipped out into the garden to watch the sea slither to grey. The sun had long since departed, with them having spent most of their afternoon under fluorescent strip lighting instead. The pair sat on the garden bench opposite the one they’d occupied the previous night, but this time they sat together, bodies fused, hands clasped. This time, they were a united front rather than two parties at war.

  “I’m sorry,” Laura said. She squeezed Tash’s hand.

  Tash squeezed back.

  “And I agree with everything you said this morning, it’s just… it kinda went off and I couldn’t pull myself back. Even though I wanted to.” Laura glanced shyly at Tash.

  “I know.” And Tash did. She knew how Laura worked after five years together, knew she’d needed time to cool off, reconsider, get things clear in her head. It didn’t mean to say she liked it, but she knew.

  “And I didn’t help by bringing Kat into it. What’s done is done; I was just being stupid.” Tash sighed to emphasise the point, before kissing the back of Laura’s hand.

  “But look,” Tash said, sweeping her other hand expansively. “We’re in Devon, we’re on holiday with friends, we’ve got a beautiful view and we love each other. Let’s look at the positives.”

  Laura chuckled. “And I’ve got a multi-coloured face the kids are going to love to poke tomorrow.” She turned to face Tash, kissing her hand this time. “You know I love you, though, right?” Emotion welled in Laura’s eyes as she searched Tash’s face for confirmation.

  Tash wasn’t leaving anything hanging in this conversation, leaving nothing to chance. She gently reached over and touched the good side of Laura’s face, pushing her dark hair back behind her ear.

  “Sweetheart, I know. I knew this morning. Or at least, I was 99% sure this morning.” She leaned over and kissed Laura gently, with just enough pressure to let her know there was more to come. When she opened her eyes, she saw Laura’s face crack into a grin, then a grimace. When would she learn?

  “What are you smiling about?” Tash asked, eyeing her girlfriend with suspicion.

  Laura smiled again, but this time she put up with the pain, before sliding off the bench and onto one knee. When she looked back up at Tash from her new vantage point, Tash’s mouth was open, her mouth forming a tiny letter ‘o’. Her forehead furrowed into a line of questions but she stayed silent.

  Very slowly, Laura took Tash’s left hand in her right, making sure she had Tash’s full attention, her eyes telling Tash all she needed to know.

  Tash’s eyes were wide and welling up. Her heart was thumping in her chest, her face flushed and she was glad she was sitting down. Holy shit, was this what she thought it was?

  “Natasha Jade McWilliams, I love you,” Laura said. She was grinning madly, dealing with the pain. “I love you, I love your children, I love us. So will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

  A tear tracked its way down Tash’s cheek as she slowly nodded her head. “I would love to, my black-eyed girl,” she said.

  Laura drew herself up from her knees and kissed away Tash’s tears, then pressed her lips to her wife-to-be. That was the kiss that signalled the rest of their life together as a family. Just the four of them.

  ***

  From the lounge, Geri could see Tash and Laura’s heads close together, sitting on a garden bench. Unlike last night, Tash was now leaning into Laura’s body and accepting her arm around her.

  Geri was glad they’d patched up their differences because it was a stupid argument in the first place. Plus, with everything that’d happened since, last night seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Last night, Geri had sex with someone who turned out to be married. In Geri’s long sexual history she’d never slept with a married woman – had she? She supposed it was possible some of them might have been married, to men as well as women.

  Geri was no saint, as Stevie could attest, but in the past ten years her cheating track record was blemish-free. She just hadn’t met the right woman who she might want something more with. Until last night. But apparently the right woman might already have the right woman for her. Life sucked like that sometimes.

  Geri watched Laura and Tash embrace, kissing each other deeply. If she was up closer she’d be able to hear their tongues clicking. She turned away, not wanting to be confronted with it, going back into the kitchen to sit at the table with the other four.

  The fact this was TJ’s family home made tonight even weirder for Geri than she could have possibly imagined. TJ had probably sat at this very table for Christmas dinners, made countless cups of tea for her and Grace. Heck, they’d probably had sex in this very kitchen.

  Geri abruptly took her elbow off the table and sat back. “So this feels like a murder mystery weekend now,” she said. “I’m just glad I’m single – which couple’s going to leave tonight?”

  “More importantly, will the crime be committed in the hallway or the library?” Stu asked, swigging his beer.

  “Seeing as we don’t have a library, I’d say beware of the hallway later.”

  “And the downstairs loo, too – it still has a certain odour of vomit about it,” Darren chipped in.

  “Eugh!” Stevie let her gaze flick around the group. “But talking of disappearing couples – where are Tash and Laura? Have they gone to properly make up?”

  Geri nodded. “They’re being romantic and snogging overlooking the ocean. It was nauseating, I had to leave the lounge.”

  “Have some food, gorgeous.” Stevie leant over and squeezed Geri tight with her arm, before placing a bowl of crisps in front of her.

  Geri loved Stevie for that. “I need a beer too after today.”

  “I’m sure Kat would concur,” Vic said.

  Agreement all round the table.

  “Yes, I know, but you know what Ally McBeal said.” Geri eyed her friends.

  “That karaoke cures all ills?” Vic said.

  “Wattles are great?” Darren added.

  Geri laughed. “She probably did say all of those things, but she also said that my problems are bigger than anybody else’s because, well, they’re mine. So yes, I know objectively that Kat drinking a vat of booze and nearly killing herself is worse than what happened to me, but it doesn’t alter the fact that I got fucked over last night so I’m feeling sorry for myself. And yes, I’m a bad person, clearly.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to go down the pub in a minute?” Darren asked. “You, TJ, Grace, nice Easter drink. Awkward!” He said the final word in a sing-song voice, as if he was starring in a West End musical.

  “I thought you were being nice today, Darren?” Geri said. “Or was that just this morning?”

  Darren waved a hand in her direction. “I can’t keep it up all day, woman,” he said. “Jeez…”

  The group laughed and then fell silent for a few seconds, the day�
��s events being digested and churned.

  “Did you say TJ was short for Tom?” Stu piped up eventually. “Whoever heard of a girl called Tom?”

  “First time for everything,” Geri said.

  “Not for me – I went to school with a girl called Tom. Short for Thomasina,” Stevie said.

  “I blame you, then – you should have warned me!” Geri pouted.

  “My fault, totally,” Stevie agreed.

  “I wonder what the J stands for.” Stu sat back, looking thoughtful.

  “Jezebel?” Stevie said, which drew laughter from everyone.

  Geri shook her head again. “I still can’t quite get my head around what she was thinking, though. It’s just too surreal. Okay, your wife’s out of town so it’s an opportunity to fuck someone else, I get it. But to fuck someone else who you know is renting out your family house for the weekend? It’s too odd for words.”

  “Agreed,” Stevie said. “It’s like something from the pages of The Sun.” She shrugged. “But life is often stranger than fiction.”

  Geri saw Vic eye Stevie and she hoped this wasn’t going to throw a spanner in the works of their reconciliation. Stevie was twisting her wedding ring again, a look of intense concentration on her face.

  “And you certainly couldn’t make this shit up.” Darren scraped back his chair and crossed the room to the kitchen, opening the fridge before popping his head back around it.

  “Everybody want a refill?” he asked. They all held up their near-empty bottles in response, so Darren dutifully ferried the drinks before standing behind his chair and performing three consecutive sets of squats, breathing out as he propelled his body upwards.

  Stevie noted his knees didn’t click as they bent and felt a wave of envy. Perhaps she should start doing squats at every given opportunity.

  “You do know that isn’t normal behaviour, don’t you?” Vic leant over Stevie and helped herself to some crisps.

  Darren shrugged. “Normal in the world I live in. Besides, I’m just trying to spread the word and do a public service in the process – you too could have thighs like mine if you did a few sets of squats a day.”

  “Call me old-fashioned but I do my squats in the gym, not while drinking beer.”

  “Old-fashioned!” Darren trilled, before sitting down and grabbing some carrots from the bowl.

  “Anyway, you know the other thing I thought about today that we haven’t done?” Geri ran her thumb up and down her fresh beer bottle.

  “Group sex again?” Vic cocked her head to one side. “I thought we had enough of that last time.”

  Geri rolled her eyes in response. “I was just thinking we haven’t posted any photos on Facebook. At least, I haven’t.”

  “Because everyone who cares is here, so what’s the point?” Vic replied.

  “Tut tut, showing your age,” Darren replied. “We should be videoing each other’s drunken moments, posting selfies, all of that.”

  “Yes but we’re not 21, I think that’s the point,” Vic said. “And I for one am glad. Can you imagine if we’d posted last night’s happenings? Rows, collapses, walk-outs, shagging…”

  “Now that would have been awful,” Geri agreed, rubbing her hands up and down her face. “At least I didn’t update my status to ‘In A Relationship’ in a lustful moment. Thank goodness for small mercies.”

  “And you didn’t record yourselves having sex, either?” Darren asked.

  “That’s strictly a third-date thing.”

  “Should we take a picture now?” Stu retrieved his phone from his pocket and held it up to eye level. “Squeeze in you three,” he said.

  Stevie dutifully put an arm around Geri and Vic, and the three women smiled their best cheesy grins. There was no click and no flash, but after a couple of seconds Stu looked satisfied.

  “Lovely,” Stu said. “Give me a minute and I’ll make it look even prettier.” He paused, fiddling with his phone. “We could really do with Laura and Tash, too, though, get one of everyone… well, nearly everyone.”

  ***

  Half an hour later the curry arrived and Stu collected everyone’s tenners before opening the door to a 20-something man in a branded Tandoori-Hut Mini. In London, Stu was used to harassed delivery drivers balancing food on scrawny mopeds but clearly, in Devon, only the latest car model would do.

  The man was dressed in jeans and was trying to cultivate a beard but Stu wasn’t convinced he’d ever get the growth he wanted, his current effort being too wispy. Stu took the two brown paper carriers from him and tipped him almost 20%. The delivery guy looked amazed and dashed back to his car before Stu could change his mind and demand the money back.

  On Vic’s instructions the curry was to be served on the kitchen counter to save any nasty stains on the white table – even though it wasn’t her house, her house rules still applied.

  “On the contrary, I think we should smear curry up the walls just to piss them off,” Stu told her.

  “I second that emotion,” Geri said.

  “Think of the deposit,” Stevie replied.

  Chicken bhuna, lamb tikka, garlic naan. Onion bhajis, tarka dhal, chicken balti. Plates piled with rice, rich pools of curry, poppadoms and mango chutney. Grins as they settled to eat, no prayers said here. A brief cheers and everyone tucked in, nobody realising quite how hungry they were. The curry didn’t last long for anyone – today had been hungry work.

  “This really is a reminder of university life, isn’t it?” Stevie said. “Friday nights down the curry house, Stu and Laura finished before everyone and polishing off all the poppadoms. You want mine Stu?”

  Stevie held up half a poppadom from her side plate and Stu leant over for the exchange.

  “There are differences, though,” he told her, spooning mango chutney onto his plate, along with the hot chilli sauce that only he and Laura liked. “I mean, we wouldn’t have proper wine glasses for a start, would we? Or napkins.”

  “Or wine for more than three quid a bottle,” Geri added.

  “Three quid bought you some top quality plonk back in the day.” Stu waved his index finger to underline the point.

  “Yeah, but didn’t we used to buy that terrible table wine in plastic bottles? Vin de Table?” Geri shuddered. “Doesn’t bear thinking about.”

  “It all made sense at the time,” Stevie said. “And now here we are, 20 years later, drinking wine that costs more than a fiver out of shiny wine glasses. I think that means we’ve evolved.”

  Stevie looked around the table at this group, these people who knew so much about her and had seen her through so many times. She swallowed down as a lump began to form in her throat, heat searing through her body as she blinked away tears.

  Stevie had seen this enough in films, heard it sung about in songs, seen it written down in print to know this was one of those special moments, the one you wish you could capture – its smell, its vibrancy, its taste, its touch. It seeped into her bones and she knew when she looked back on this weekend, it would be this last-evening glow she’d remember most, the roses not the thorns. This weekend had pulsed with so many emotions, but when Stevie looked back, the overriding one she’d remember was their abiding friendship and love.

  “I think we deserve a toast, don’t you?” Stevie refilled her wine glass with the rich Malbec that Vic had selected earlier, then waited until the wine had seduced everyone’s glass before standing up and raising hers. Tonight, she was their self-appointed matriarch.

  “To us, to our friendship and to us all making the wise decision that perhaps a 30-year reunion isn’t totally necessary.” Stevie watched everyone toast and then stop, registering her last bit, looking mildly perturbed.

  Darren was the first to object.

  “I know I wasn’t at university with you, but I’d be gutted to miss out on the 30th. Perhaps you should go for a 25th instead?” Darren said.

  “You’re still planning on being around for that, are
you?” A smile creased Stu’s face.

  “Course!” Darren flashed his boyfriend a killer smile.

  “Thirty years? Really?” Geri laid her knife and fork on the side of her plate. “Don’t you think these weekends are somewhat tinged with drama and doom? You really want to risk it all again?” She looked like she’d just about had her fill.

  The group were startled by a tapping sound of spoon on glass and their gaze shifted to Tash. Attention gained, she took a deep breath out and went to say something. She opened her mouth, then closed her mouth.

  “What?” Geri asked.

  Tash and Laura both cast their eyes down, grinning.

  “What? Come on, spit it out!” Geri said.

  “Well we… we had a talk outside and we’ve… we’ve… you say it,” Tash said, nudging Laura in an uncharacteristically bashful moment. The group’s attention was piqued now, jaws hushed, chewing aborted.

  Laura cleared her throat. “What with everything that’s happened this weekend, we’ve decided that yes, these weekends are times when major life events happen – people get together, have sex, break up, break down. But what we also decided was that they don’t always have to be negative. So you should all know that this weekend will be remembered not only for Kat nearly dying on us, but also for being the weekend we got engaged.”

  There was silence around the table as this new information sunk in, all seven holding their pose, curry in mouth, wine glasses still as if they’d just been told by their primary school teacher to “stop what you’re doing right now!”

  Five, four, three, two, one. Brains processed, eyes lit up, arms outstretched, screams released.

  “Did I hear that right?” Stevie asked, not trusting her own ears on this one.

  Laura and Tash nodded. The newly erected grins on their faces looked like they’d hold fast even through a hurricane.

  “Oh. My. God!” Stevie said. “You’re getting married! I’m so excited!”

  Stu was up, around the table to join in the group hug already being rugby-scrummed by Vic, Stevie and Geri.