by Jenny Kane
‘She is! She was almost laughing. Nearly her old self, if you ignore the lack of food, sleep, and the terror of living through the past few days.’
‘At least she doesn’t have to worry about this place.’ Amy examined the almost clean café.
‘I don’t think you can stop her doing that. Not unless you put your career plans even further on hold, and I don’t think Peggy would forgive you if you did that.’
‘Well, that’s rich. When was the last time you wrote something in here?’
Kit shrugged ruefully. ‘OK, it’s been a while.’ After a brief pause, she went on. ‘In fact, between you and me, I think I’ve screwed up the contract I had with the web site I write for.’
Amy was horrified, ‘Oh no! Kit, why didn’t you say? I could have managed here with Jack.’
‘You won’t tell Peggy, will you?’ Kit hurriedly added, ‘I don’t want her to feel guilty. Anyway, I think it’s for the best. I totally love writing erotica. And I will definitely go back to it, but there’s only so much smut you can write without running out of original ways of describing an erection.’
‘Erotica! You’re kidding me!’ Amy was stunned. ‘I assumed you wrote kid’s stuff.’
‘What? Cuddly lambs gallivanting around a sunny farmyard going baa? Not me!’ Kit laughed at Amy’s shocked expression, ‘I thought you knew! Didn’t Jack tell you?’
‘Not a word. No wonder Peggy likes your stuff.’ Amy was suddenly rather coy. ‘Can I read some?’
Now it was Kit’s turn to be surprised, ‘You?’
‘Yeah. I love that stuff, providing it’s not cruel. I have some of the Xcite collections knocking about, but recently I’ve started to read some stuff on a web site I subscribe to.’
Kit felt a smile crease her lips. ‘You’re kidding me! Which one?’
‘I like Katrina Island’s stuff on Pearls, do you know it?’
Kit burst out laughing. ‘Know it? That’s me! I’m Katrina, and I write for Pearls!’
‘No way!’ Amy’s mouth dropped open.
‘And to think I had you down as a good girl.’
Recovering herself, Amy giggled, ‘Come off it! I’ve been out with Jack too, you know.’
Kit regarded the waitress more seriously for a second. ‘I owe you an apology.’
‘What for? Secretly boosting my erotic fantasies for the past twelve months?’
‘No!’ Kit’s smile faded as she confessed, ‘I was jealous. Not of you, exactly, but of what you had with Jack, and of how well you’ve handled it all.’
‘You have got to be joking!’ Amy looked at Kit in disbelief. ‘Handled it! He dumped me and I ran away. For over a decade! I’m not sure that counts as a true qualification of handling it, do you?’
Kit’s mouth dropped open, ‘That’s why you went to live in Scotland?’
‘Yes.’
‘I assumed you’d gone up there because of your job. God, that boy has a lot to answer for’ Kit crunched up the damp paper napkin she was holding.
‘You are telling me.’
Kit was thoughtful as she continued, ‘Shame isn’t it.’
‘That we both loved him, you mean?’
‘Bloody tragic.’ They both shook their heads ruefully at each other, before bursting into fits of teenage-style giggles.
By the time Jack had come back from paying in the takings at the local bank, the two girls had made decent headway into a bottle of Peggy’s house white.
‘Anything I can get you girls? Cushions? A servant to waft you with a fan? A three-course meal while I juggle the other jobs left to do in here tonight?’
‘Shut up, Jack, and sit down.’ Amy toasted him with her glass as she spoke.
Jack, puzzled at the new-found solidarity before him, shrugged his shoulders, took a glass from the counter, and joined them. ‘So, what are we drinking to?’
‘Scott.’ Kit hurriedly filled Jack in on her telephone call.
‘Can he come home soon then?’
‘It’ll be a little while yet, and there’ll be a fairly lengthy gap between coming out of hospital and walking unaided, but at least the ultimate prognosis is good.’
Jack looked from Kit to Amy, ‘There’s something else.’
‘A truce,’ Amy gestured towards her fellow female, ‘Kit and I have had a chat’
‘Which is going to become an extended chat once you have buggered off,’ Kit added.
‘Exactly,’ Amy nodded, failing to suppress a giggle as the wine had an effect on her food-deprived body.
‘Oh.’ Jack didn’t know what else to say, as both girls dissolved into another fit of giggling camaraderie. ‘I think I’d better get going then.’
‘Night, Jack,’ the girls chorused after Jack as he left them to their alcohol and the remaining tidying-up.
After they’d emptied the bottle of wine and cleared the tables, Amy suggested a meal might be a good idea before they both collapsed. Kit sent a text to Phil, getting the all-clear for a girlie night out, and they headed into Richmond.
As they stood in the chilled evening air, which hung thick with the aroma of bonfires and early fireworks, surrounded on all sides by Indian restaurants, Amy suggested, ‘Indian food then?’
‘Great.’ Kit gestured around her, ‘The closest one?’
‘Definitely.’
Thirty-six
October 26th 2006
They had started to make serious inroads into their complimentary poppadoms before Kit launched into conversation. Emboldened by the wine whizzing about her system, she said, ‘You go first. I want the real story of your time with Jack. See if it matches up with the version he told me!’
Amy gulped, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘Only, if you promise to tell me your story straight afterwards.’
‘It’s a deal, but I should warn you, it’s not a pretty tale.’
Amy waved a piece of mango chutney-smeared naan bread around absentmindedly, ‘This is Jack; I didn’t think it would be.’
Listening to Amy as she told her all about her past, and her renewed, relationship with Jack, warning bells rang loudly in Kit’s ears. ‘But how can you stand it? If he’s been there, just like he used to be, cosy on your sofa, sharing pizza or whatever? I mean, at the end of the day, he’ll go off clubbing to find a bloke to screw, and you’ll be left on your own.’
Amy felt defensive, but didn’t say anything as Kit continued. ‘You know what I mean; you’re in danger of allowing yourself to live in the past; a fantasy of what life might have been like if he’d treated you better, if you hadn’t done a bunk, if he hadn’t come out …’
Amy wiped a finger around the edge of her plate, sucking up the stray sauce. ‘I know. But it’s worth it.’
‘You must really love him.’
‘He’s my friend.’
‘And?’
‘And I want him to be happy.’ Amy flapped open her napkin as she worked out how to explain it to Kit. ‘When I got his tape and read his letter, I genuinely hoped Jack was all right. That he was happy and settled. Part of a couple, I suppose. Content with his life.’
‘But?’
‘But when I got here and saw him, I couldn’t believe how relieved I was that he was single. I wasn’t ready to share him I suppose.’
‘Perhaps that’s understandable, after all those years.’ Kit picked up her glass, ‘And now you have met him again, how are you going to feel when he finds someone else’s sofa to sit on?’
‘I’ll be sad, but not jealous.’
‘Come off it.’
Amy relented, ‘OK, maybe a tad jealous, but I won’t stand in his way. I might like his future bloke.’
‘You can be too nice you know.’
‘Don’t you start!’
Kit was confused, ‘What?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Amy re-filled her glass, ‘Anyway, I could find someone first.’
Kit sat up; she loved a good bit of matchmaking. ‘Really? And where do you
go looking?’
‘Well, nowhere yet. Maybe someone will come into work.’
Kit regarded Amy as if she was insane. ‘Pickwicks isn’t going to find you anyone single and under sixty. When was the last time you saw an unaccompanied male in there who wasn’t a pensioner?’
‘Well, OK, never, but it might happen.’
‘Oh, stop it!’ Kit clattered down her fork decisively. ‘You need to spend less time with Jack, and more time on the pull. Trust me; I know what I’m talking about.’
Amy was emphatic, ‘I do not go on the pull. Never have.’
‘It’s time you started.’
‘It isn’t … is it?’ Amy wasn’t so sure.
‘It is.’ Kit didn’t sound unsure at all.
They munched happily for a while, talking about nothing and everything, until Amy asked, ‘When you were together, did you have any idea? I mean, could you see he was gay?’
Kit studied Amy so closely that she blushed and instantly began to backtrack, ‘Sorry, that was a very personal question, forget it.’
‘No, no, it’s fine; I was wondering how to explain.’ Kit scooped up some korma from the central balti bowl, and tapped it off with a satisfying splodge onto her plate, ‘I think I sort of knew, in a way. I certainly always assumed he was bisexual, but as he never said anything. I assumed he was happy enough with a woman. Let’s face it, you don’t really think about your bloke going off with another man while you’re in the middle of a relationship with him do you?’
‘I guess not. You did think he might be bi though?’
‘It was the sex he liked. Very bi-orientated, I’m sure I don’t have to paint you a picture.’
Amy blushed a more vivid shade of pink, ‘No, I get it.’
Feeling awkward, Kit asked, ‘You had no idea then?’
‘No. None at all. Naïve I guess, especially in the light of the bedtime preferences you’ve alluded to. I thought he was more interesting and had more imagination than my past boyfriends, nothing more than that. God, I was such a bloody innocent.’
Kit felt the heaviness of Amy’s struggle to understand her own actions, ‘You were only young.’
Curiosity keeping her on the theme, yet wanting to move off her own role in the situation, Amy asked, ‘What was Jack like, you know, when he first came out?’
Kit put her glass down carefully, ‘Much the same really, that’s why I found it so tough I guess. Although,’ she smiled broadly as she remembered, ‘his clothes went temporarily nuts.’
‘How d’you mean? Not tight T-shirts surely?’
‘Oh yes, tight and white.’
‘No way!’ Amy clapped her hands with glee.
‘With pale jeans and, wait for it … a short-waisted, black leather jacket.’
‘Please tell me it didn’t have studs!’
‘No studs, thank God.’ Kit began to laugh at the mental image they were creating.
Amy sighed in mock relief, ‘Thank God. Mind you, doesn’t sound like he was leaving anyone in any doubt.’
‘None whatsoever.’ Kit felt strangely satisfied as she shared it all with Amy.
‘How long did that fashion crisis phase last then?’
‘Six, maybe eight months. It was like he went mad. A new sweet in the sweetie shop, and he made damn sure he advertised so everyone knew where they could get a taste.’
Amy’s eyes lowered to the table, and she spoke more quietly, ‘He was popular with the lads straight away then?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Of course, he would be.’ The bounce temporarily gone from her voice; Amy contained a sigh.
‘And don’t forget, it’s a different world, it’s smaller.’ Kit didn’t notice Amy’s disquiet as she expounded a much-considered theory, ‘It sometimes seems to me, at least from the outside, that liaisons in the gay world are much more interchangeable. There’s a smaller pool from which to fish, so it’s more acceptable for partners to swap and change within a group of friends or associates. Of course, I could be totally wrong about that.’
‘If you’re right, then that must be very hard sometimes.’
‘Bet Jack was hard all the fucking time.’
‘Kit!’ Amy almost chocked on her mouthful of rice.
‘Anyway, enough of Jack.’ Kit looked determined, ‘Tell me, what would your ideal bloke be like? What was your last boyfriend like?’
Amy wriggled uncomfortably in her seat, ‘Jack.’
‘Jack?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘You’ve been thinking about Jack for the last thirteen years?’
‘Certainly not! I haven’t been thinking of anything really, not until I got down here. I sort of shut down.’
‘Bloody hell!’ They lapsed into silence for a moment, before Kit peered at Amy’s face across the table, making her feel uncomfortable, ‘Hang on a second.’
‘Have I got curry on my face or something?’ Amy lifted her hand to wipe whatever it was away.
‘No. I just noticed.’ Delight spread across Kit’s face. ‘You’re not wearing any make-up.’
‘Well, no, but then, neither are you.’
‘Exactly! And here I was beginning to think that I was a freak for not using that stuff when everyone else does, and you don’t use it either!’
Amy laughed, aware that Kit was more under the influence of the wine than she’d realised. ‘We’re probably both freaks, but so what? Why do women all have to look the same anyway?’
‘Exactly!’ Kit said again, bringing her hand down slightly too hard on the table, causing the waiters to glance their way.
Amy, realising she’d found a comrade, added, ‘I hate the way cosmetics make me feel. It’s like wearing a mask, like hiding all the time. I do enough hiding as it is.’
‘And more to the point,’ Kit added, ‘where do …’
Amy joined in, chuckling as they simultaneously said, ‘… they find the time to put it on?!’
Kit topped up her wine glass again, ‘I never have a minute to myself when I’m not either working or house-working. When would I find a spare twenty minutes or more to play with slap?’
‘No idea! I wouldn’t know what to do with most of it anyway. I mean, what the hell does it all do? If my lack of make-up puts people off me, then sod them!’
‘I couldn’t agree more. Although …’ Kit’s voice faltered as she spoke, ‘as time goes on I wonder, if perhaps, I should start to use it. Every day I seem to look older.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Kit was quite taken aback by the uncompromising tone of Amy’s voice, ‘You’re lovely. You have good skin, no wrinkles and beautiful eyes. In fact I think you’ve probably got all those things because you’ve never smeared your face in stuff.’
Kit raised her glass, ‘You, Amy Crane, are a real find. Thank you.’ More content than she had felt in weeks, she put down her fork, ‘That was gorgeous.’
‘Sure was.’
Knocking back the remains of her wine, Kit said, ‘Jack told me we were similar, you and I.’
‘Did he?’ Amy tucked her hair from around her face to behind her ears.
‘I wasn’t really in the mood to hear it then, but I am beginning to see that he was right.’
‘Well, even Jack has to be right sometimes; law of averages and all that!’ Amy laughed into her own glass. ‘And what about the music thing? He obviously did that to you as well.’
‘It was cute at the start, but to be honest, it has recently begun to get on my nerves.’
Amy nodded, ‘I know what you mean. I don’t mind it mostly, and sometimes it’s nice. Especially if he comes up with a flattering lyric, but it can be very annoying.’
‘I guess it is part of what makes Jack Jack.’
‘I didn’t think he’d be so much like he was before.’ Amy played with the pilau rice spoon as she talked, ‘It’s like he hasn’t changed at all, and yet so much has happened.’
‘Even though that made no sense, I completely agree,’ Kit fiddled with
the handle of the balti bowl, ‘I’m not sure he’ll even grow up. He’s the Peter Pan of Mortlake.’
Amy sniggered, ‘I’m not sure he’d like the Cliff Richard comparison.’
Kit grinned back at her. ‘I doubt if Cliff would be too impressed either!’
Dipping her fingers in the water bowel provided as the waiter cleared the last of their plates away, Kit felt happy, ‘Thanks, Amy.’
‘What for?’
‘The company. I can’t remember the last time I went out for a meal with a female. Must have been when I was at college.’
‘Don’t you ever go out for meals with Peggy?’
‘No, she says it’s like a busman’s holiday.’
‘I can understand that, I haven’t had a meal out with anyone else for a very long time either. I did go out on work dos in Scotland, but I was always the odd one out in the group. It’s nice to have a friend.’
Kit gestured towards the waiter, ‘Well, friend Amy; would you like a coffee to top off a good evening?’
‘I most certainly would, thanks.’
‘Phil, Phil!’ Kit rushed into the house and up to the bedroom.
‘What is it? Oh God, not Scott?’
‘No! Guess what?’
‘What?’ Phil couldn’t help but grin when he saw his wife’s wine-flushed face.
‘I’ve got a new friend, Phil. Isn’t that fantastic!’
Thirty-seven
October 31st 2006
Had it really been a week? Amy paused in her labours and watched the dance of café life buzz around her. A whole week without Peggy bouncing around the place. A whole week without Scott teasing her with harmlessly suggestive remarks whenever she went into the kitchen for cakes or sandwiches.
Kit was at the counter, polishing the cutlery that had come out of the dishwasher, and Jack had retreated to his bookshop to help Rob with the extra stock they’d ordered in for Christmas. Amy missed his presence, but knew they would manage fine without him now that the barriers between the three of them had finally been broken down.
As Amy topped up the basket of iced pumpkin-shaped gingerbread biscuits that she’d ordered in for Hallowe’en, she reflected on the night before. Jack had taken her to the pub to make up for cancelling a trip to the theatre last week, when another of his friends had needed a shoulder to cry on. Amy was sorry she’d missed the play, but the drink together had been fun, and after all, a friend in need was a friend indeed and all that, so she couldn’t really complain.