by Mike Gayle
Jo watched as Ian Two took it from him, scanned the CD’s track-listing, then dropped it into the CD player and shuffled through the songs.
‘Which one are you going for?’ asked Woodsy.
‘Which one do you think?’ said Ian Two, with a grin, as his finger hovered over the play button. ‘Gentlemen, prepare to rock!’
Within milliseconds of the first piano note of the intro to Queen’s classic anthem ‘Somebody To Love’, an infectious grin had spread across the men’s faces. And when Freddie Mercury sang the opening line, they joined in. Half-way through Rob came in and yelled, ‘You should have told me we were doing Queen!’ It was like one of those almost compulsory moments in modern romantic comedies where all the cast breaks into song, but now no one was in tune, only the boys were singing – everyone else in the room looked stunned – and it was happening in a living room in Chorlton instead of on a film set in Hollywood.
When the song ended, Phil wiped the sweat off his forehead and turned down the volume. Then they composed themselves, tucking in shirts and adjusting waistbands.
‘You lot are such good friends,’ said Jo, still laughing. ‘Good friends?’ repeated Phil, ‘we’re not good friends. We’re the best.’
Toast
It was ten o’clock and Jo had been dancing with Rob’s friends for half an hour. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had so much fun and met so many people with whom she had felt a rapport. She had already listened to so many of Rob’s tales about them (everything from the origins of their annual golf day through to why Ian Two could no longer bend his little finger) that Jo had felt she knew them well before she met them, but she hadn’t known how much she would like them. They made her laugh, they had interesting things to say and they were so laid back that she forgot she was the only woman among them.
She was about to take a breather from dancing (to yet another one of Woodsy’s musical selections: ‘The Only Way is Up’ by Yazz) and roll herself a cigarette when the music stopped and Rob clapped his hands. ‘Can I have everyone’s attention for a few moments? I’ve got a few things I need to say.’
Everyone stopped talking and gave him a round of applause.
‘Good evening, everyone,’ he began. ‘I just wanted to say a few words to put tonight into some sort of context, and to thank all of our friends and family for making the effort to be here. The first time I met Ashley I knew she was someone special but I didn’t know how special until tonight – because if the way I feel now that she has accepted my proposal of marriage is any indicator of our future happiness, my life with her will be everything I ever hoped for.’ He picked up the can of Carlsberg he had set down on a bookshelf. ‘I know you aren’t drinking champagne tonight – because my future wife and I are such cheapskates – but I’d still like you to raise whatever it is you’re drinking, be it beer, vodka or even PG Tips, in a toast to Ashley. My future wife.’
The room broke out in spontaneous applause, then toasted Ashley. Jo, her eyes fixed on Rob, smiled and raised her glass too. But it was only when the music came back on and conversation got going again that she realised she was crying. She put her drink on the mantelpiece and quickly left the room, desperately wiping away the tears that were beginning to roll down her cheeks. She made her way to the front door and outside into the night. Once in the darkness of the side entry, she finally let the tears flow freely.
What’s going on?
‘Are you all right?’
Jo whirled around to see Phil standing a few feet away from her.
‘I’m not feeling very well, that’s all,’ said Jo, wondering if he could tell that she was lying. ‘I’ll call a taxi in a minute or two.’
‘Tell you what,’ said Phil, ‘why don’t I take you home? I could do with a bit of peace and quiet.’
‘I couldn’t let you do that,’ said Jo. ‘Anyway, you’ve been drinking.’
‘Half a can of Guinness,’ he replied. ‘I think I over did it last night with the boys . . . and, well, these days my ability to recover from a bit of a session is somewhat diminished.’ He paused. ‘So?’
‘Yeah,’ replied Jo. ‘A lift would be great.’
All this and more
‘Do you want to come in?’ asked Jo, as they pulled up outside her house. ‘I’m not really tired, are you?’
‘I’m wide awake,’ replied Phil.
Jo climbed out of the car and made her way up her front path, fishing in her bag for her keys to the front door. She heard the beep of the car’s central locking system and turned to see Phil coming up the path behind her.
All evening Jo had thought Phil might be flirting with her but she couldn’t tell why. Did he do it with all women, as a matter of course, or did he actually like her? In spite of her feelings for Rob she did find Phil attractive: it wasn’t just that he was easy on the eye (although he was); it wasn’t even that she found him charming (although she did). It was that being with Phil reminded her so much of being with Rob. Their personalities were different – Phil was far more laid back and exuded a lot more self-confidence than Rob – but she could see exactly why they were such good friends. And when Rob had introduced her to Phil something inside her had told her that they were on the same wavelength. It had reminded her of when she had met Rob at the party in Didsbury all those months ago, and felt as though she had known him all her life.
‘Welcome to my bachelorette pad,’ said Jo, opening the front door. ‘I apologise now for any random items of underwear, piles of to-do ironing and washing-up that you might come across on your travels.’
‘No worries,’ said Phil. ‘Sounds like Woodsy’s and my place in London.’
Jo led Phil into the living room, took off her coat, kicked off her shoes and began to roll a cigarette on the sofa. Phil made his way over to the shelves near Jo’s TV that housed her CD and vinyl record collection.
‘You’re such a typical boy,’ she said as he began flicking through the music. ‘That’s just what Rob did when he first came round here.’
‘We can’t help it. I think we’re both programmed that way. It’s always been the first thing we do whenever we go somewhere new.’
‘Like psychological profiling?’ asked Jo, studying her now perfectly formed rollie.
‘No,’ said Phil. ‘More like nosy neighbours.’
‘Well, before you start criticising – as I know you will – can I just say that my ex took most of the good CDs. All he’s left me with is the stuff from my student days that I didn’t sell or give away.’
‘It’s the vinyl I’m interested in,’ said Phil still flicking. ‘It’s like a blast from the past – you’ve got five Smiths albums.’
‘I loved them so much,’ said Jo lighting up her cigarette. ‘Morrissey was my complete and utter hero back then.’
‘And The Wedding Present’s George Best,’ said Phil, brandishing it eagerly. ‘A classic.’
‘They were my other favourites,’ said Jo. ‘At university I once went out with a guy just because he looked a little like the lead singer, Dave Gedge. He had the gruff Leeds accent too. But we split up after about a fortnight. The reality just couldn’t live up to the fantasy. That’s the thing about counterfeits – they’re just not the real thing are they?’
‘No,’ said Phil. ‘I suppose not.’ He returned to flicking through the records. After a few moments he stopped and pulled out another album. ‘Can I put this on?’ he said.
‘What is it?’ she asked joining him on the carpet near the TV.
‘The Sundays – Reading, Writing and Arithmetic.’
Jo took it from him, grinning inanely. ‘I can’t tell you how much I loved this album. It was the complete soundtrack to my late teens. I used to play “Can’t Be Sure” all the time.’
‘Well let’s play it then,’ said Phil.
‘Can’t,’ said Jo, flicking the ash from her cigarette onto her makeshift ashtray – an old tea-stained saucer by the fireplace. ‘I haven’t got a record deck. Mine broke years a
go and Sean took his when he moved out.’
‘Never mind,’ said Phil grinning. ‘We’ll just have to think of something else to do.’
Jo put down the record and carefully rested her cigarette on the saucer. There was now no doubting that he was flirting with her. But she didn’t mind at all. In fact she was pleased because if she was thinking about Phil then she knew she couldn’t be thinking about Rob. And so without saying a word she leaned in towards Phil and kissed his neck and then his chin and then finally she kissed his lips.
Rob at home
It was a quarter to nine on the day after the engagement party and Rob had just woken from a deep Sunday-morning sleep. Ashley was standing in the doorway with a smile on her face as if she knew something that Rob didn’t.
‘What’s up?’ said Rob, from the bed.
‘Nothing, really,’ said Ashley, who was wearing her early Sunday-morning attire of a long-sleeved white T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. ‘I don’t think we should put two and two together just for the sake of it . . . because we’ll only end up with five, but I’ve just been downstairs to see if the boys are okay and make them some tea and Phil wasn’t there.’
‘He’s probably gone to the loo,’ said Rob.
‘Nope,’ said Ashley. ‘No one’s seen him since last night.’
‘I can barely remember last night,’ said Rob, rubbing his head. ‘Are you sure he wasn’t there?’
‘Well,’ said Ashley, ‘this is the thing. Darren saw him getting into his car just after eleven . . . with Jo.’
Rob sat up. ‘Darren saw Jo getting into Phil’s car?’
‘Now, like I said, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,’ said Ashley, ‘but reports are that they were getting on very well last night.’
‘Were they? I asked Phil to look after Jo for me and make sure that she didn’t feel left out . . .’
‘Well,’ Ashley grinned, ‘it looks like he gave her his full personal attention.’
‘You don’t really think that Phil and Jo—’
Ashley shrugged. ‘Well, he is good-looking, and you know what a smooth talker he can be, and Jo’s very pretty. I suppose anything’s possible. But if you’re that curious why don’t you call him? He knows we’re all meeting for lunch today so you’ve got a good excuse.’
‘Can you do it?’ asked Rob. ‘I don’t want him to think I’m checking up on him – them.’
Ashley laughed. ‘But you are.’
‘Yeah, but he doesn’t need to know that, does he? Look, just call him and tell him what we’re doing for lunch.’
‘And what are we doing for lunch?’
‘We’ll go to the Lead Station,’ said Rob. ‘That’ll do, won’t it?’
‘Fine,’ replied Ashley, and picked up the cordless phone that was lying on top of the chest of drawers near the door and handed it to Rob. ‘You dial his number and I’ll speak to him.’ His fingers tapped in the number and he handed it back to her as Phil answered.
‘Hi. It’s Ashley,’ she said. ‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’ She laughed, and moved on to the landing, chatting to Phil so quietly that Rob couldn’t hear what she was saying. After a few moments, however, she was winding up the call in a louder voice. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘We’ll see the two of you at the Lead Station about midday.
‘Well, that’s interesting,’ she said, as she came back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed next to Rob.
‘What is?’ asked Rob.
‘Well, he said that he and Jo had talked until late and they didn’t get much sleep.’
‘They didn’t get much sleep? What does that mean? Why not? Did he sound tired?’
‘Doesn’t everyone sound tired on a Sunday morning? And what does it matter if they’ve got together? You’re always telling me that Phil usually goes out with completely unsuitable women – and isn’t it about time Jo was seeing someone? Her ex went months ago?’
‘She was supposed to be going out with some guy at work,’ replied Rob, ‘but she hasn’t mentioned him much lately.’
‘They’re both adults, Rob. Let them get on with whatever they’re doing.’
Rob kissed her. ‘You’re right,’ he said, and pulled her into his arms. ‘I should leave them alone.’ But even as the words left his lips, he knew that he had just made the most empty of promises.
Late lunch
Rob, Ashley and the boys had been sitting round a large table in the café for half an hour when a sheepish-looking Jo and Phil came in.
‘Morning, all,’ said Phil, cheerfully, as he sat down in one of the two empty chairs between Woodsy and Kevin. ‘How are we today?’
‘Morning, everyone,’ mumbled Jo, taking the chair next to Phil. ‘Did you all sleep well?’
With the exception of Rob, who stared blankly at Phil, everyone responded in the affirmative to her question.
‘What are you all having to eat?’ said Jo, indicating Rob’s menu.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Rob, drily. ‘Here,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘Take this. I’m nipping next door to Londis for a paper. Anyone else want anything?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Phil, standing up. ‘I never know which paper I fancy until I see the headlines.’
In the shop Rob picked up a Sunday Times, an Observer and a Sunday Telegraph, took all three to the till, paid for them and left the shop without a word to Phil.
‘Why don’t you just come out and say it?’ asked Phil following him.
‘Say what?’
‘Whatever you think you have the right to say to me.’
‘Well, as you’ve just tacitly pointed out, it would appear that you’re of the opinion that I don’t have the right to say anything – so what’s the point?’
‘This is pathetic, Rob. Can’t we just talk about it?’
‘I’m all ears, mate.’
‘I take it this is about Jo?’
‘And?’
‘Well, you’re being like this because I stayed at her house last night.’
‘It’s none of my business,’ said Rob, firmly. ‘Why should I care what you two are up to?’
‘Well, it would appear that you do,’ replied Phil. ‘Perhaps rather too much, considering you’ve just got engaged.’
‘You’re entitled to your opinions, no matter how off course they may be,’ said Rob, ‘but, just so that we’re straight, let me tell you this has nothing to do with me liking Jo or any other daft idea you might be harbouring.’
‘So what is it about?’ asked Phil. ‘I don’t want to fall out with you, mate – we’re better than that. If you want to know what happened between me and Jo last night—’
‘Stop right there,’ said Rob. ‘I’m not the slightest bit interested because she’s all yours. Whatever the two of you want to get up to is fine by me, as long as I’m well out of it. Okay?’
‘The only time you ever act like an idiot is when a woman’s involved,’ said Phil. ‘Did you know that?’
Rob thrust the Sunday Times into Phil’s hands and headed back into the café. For the rest of the afternoon, until the boys climbed into their cars for the journey home, he barely said a word to Jo, and he said nothing at all to Phil.
A short talk about being friends
‘I thought you’d be here,’ said Jo. ‘Can I sit down?’
It was ten past ten the following Sunday, and Rob was in the Lazy Fox sipping a pint and trying to make headway with a crossword when Jo interrupted him. He hadn’t spoken to her since they were all at the Lead Station. Though she had phoned, sent text messages and emails he hadn’t responded to her at all. He told himself it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her any more, it was more that he needed a break from her and to be alone with his thoughts. During the week that had elapsed he had concentrated on his work, stayed in and watched TV, read a few books and spent some quality time with Ashley.
‘I just want you to know that you’ve been a real idiot about all of this,’ said Jo, sitting down opposite him.
‘
I know—’
‘No, you don’t,’ interrupted Jo. ‘You don’t know anything because if you did it wouldn’t have taken me getting a cab from Levenshulme to Chorlton every single night this week in the hope of finding you in here.’
Rob swallowed hard. ‘Every night?’
‘There’s no need to sound so surprised. I did it because we’re mates and I don’t want to lose you over something stupid like this – that’s how much I value what we’ve got. Even so, Rob, how dare you try to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. And I’m outraged that you thought you could get away with trying to control me like that.’
‘You’re right,’ said Rob. ‘I was well out of order.’
‘Too right you were,’ said Jo. ‘You were acting like a spoilt child.’
Rob sighed heavily. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’
What good friends do
‘Do you know what?’ said Jo, as they stared blankly at the drinks Rob had bought as a peace offering. ‘Phil thinks the world of you. We listened to some music, we talked – mainly about you – and, yes, we kissed briefly, but it didn’t feel right. He was your friend. I was your friend. It was all too confusing. When the kiss was over I went to bed and Phil slept on the sofa. That was all that happened.’
‘Why didn’t he just say that?’
‘Probably because it’s none of your business. Why should Phil have to tell you anything about me and him? Why should I have tell you anything about me and Phil? You don’t tell me things about you and Ashley, do you?’
‘No,’ mumbled Rob.
‘And why not? Come on, Rob, if you feel like you have the right to get stroppy about me and Phil, shouldn’t I have the same right about you and Ashley?’
‘It’s different,’ said Rob. ‘I’m not defending the way I acted . . . It’s just . . . It’s not like I don’t want you to be happy or have a boyfriend. It’s more like I feel responsible for your welfare. In a way, as much as I don’t like Sean, I sometimes wish you were still with him because then I wouldn’t feel like I had to protect you.’