by Ella Harper
‘Not really,’ JJ replied. ‘Not at all in, in fact. Wow. Pork belly. That’s even better than bacon.’
‘Bacon,’ echoed Jonas. They both fell about laughing. They always used to talk about their love of bacon at uni. It was a guy thing.
‘God. Shall we shoot them and drink more wine?’ Layla said to Connie crossly.
‘I don’t have a gun,’ Connie said with some regret. ‘I do have a very heavy-based frying pan though?’
‘Man, I can’t even remember those days,’ Jonas mused out loud, forgetting to open the bottle of wine. ‘The days when you got to shag a bird and she wasn’t anything special.’ He winked at Connie. ‘You know what I mean. I’m talking about the time before me and you, of course.’
Connie gave him a smile. ‘Well, I should think so too!’
Jonas put his arm around Connie’s shoulders and squeezed.
Rather too tightly, in JJ’s opinion. But maybe he was biased, he decided as he watched them. He always thought Jonas was way too possessive with Connie. He acted like he owned her, not like she was a precious, beautiful woman.
Connie leant into the hug, however. Clearly she wasn’t bothered about the way Jonas manhandled her.
JJ drank some more wine and looked up as Connie and Jonas’s older daughter Bella came in. She was fifteen, but looked about eighteen as she was tall and leggy. She was wearing quite a lot of make-up and a top showing off her midriff.
‘Hi,’ Bella said to everyone at large. ‘Mum, Dad… I’m going over to Emma’s house. She’s having some friends over. Is that OK?’
‘Of course,’ said Jonas extravagantly. He really had had far too much wine.
‘You look gorgeous,’ Layla commented. ‘Oh, to have a tummy that flat…’
Bella smiled and flipped her long hair over her shoulder.
Connie felt irritable and on edge. ‘What time will you be back?’ she snapped.
Bella looked affronted, her heavily kohled eyes narrowing. ‘I don’t know, Mum. But I’m hardly ever out late partying and being silly, am I?’
‘I guess not. OK,’ Connie conceded. She felt guilty for being so uptight with Bella, but her daughter was already flouncing out of the room.
Jonas got up to change the music and JJ leant towards Connie. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah.’ She grinned, but there was a nervous edge to it. ‘Bella’s a teenager. I worry about her, that’s all.’
‘God, I don’t blame you.’ JJ took a slug of wine. ‘I don’t think I’d be able to sleep at night if I were you.’
Connie swallowed. ‘Really?’
‘God, no. She’s beautiful. And fifteen. And I’m a man… I know what those young boys are probably thinking.’
Jonas let out a comical howl. ‘Shut up, JJ! That’s my kid. I have enough trouble sleeping at night as it is.’
Connie gulped down some more wine.
‘Where’s Hannah?’ JJ asked.
‘In her room.’ Connie gestured to the ceiling. ‘With headphones on so she can’t hear us being drunk and disorderly.’
‘So.’ Layla sat up suddenly. ‘JJ, I need your help.’
‘Rightio.’ JJ was very, very drunk. ‘What with? A personal training session?’ He gave her a quick onceover. ‘You’re looking pretty good, actually.’
‘Why thank you, you sarcastic sod.’ Layla slapped his thigh. ‘No. With men. I need your help with men.’
‘Oh, that.’ JJ sat back and struck a debonair pose. ‘Fire away.’
‘Well. I’m on every dating site known to man. And I always swipe right to get my chances up. But they’re such idiots!’
‘We’re all idiots,’ JJ commented good-naturedly. He threw a glance at Connie.
‘I won’t argue with that,’ Connie said lightly. Had JJ’s glance been rueful? It had seemed rueful.
‘So what am I doing wrong?’ Layla persisted, tapping JJ on the arm.
JJ reached out and playfully tugged her hair. ‘You’re not doing anything wrong,’ he told her. ‘You’re gorgeous and one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met. Why don’t you come out with me one night and meet some of my pals? We’ll go traditional… go to a bar and just get chatting to some people we know. Some people we don’t know. That kind of thing.’
Layla considered JJ’s offer. ‘Are any of your friends hot?’
‘Sure,’ JJ shrugged. ‘Whether they’re your cup of tea or not is another thing, but…’
‘You two can carry that on later,’ Jonas interrupted, struggling to his feet. ‘I want to make a toast…’
Connie quickly stole a glance at her friends. It was strange… on the one hand, it felt as though nothing had changed between them all – they could have been back at uni with the sarcastic banter and easy laughs. On the other hand, it felt as though so much had changed. Because it had. They were fifteen years older. Life had moved on. They had all moved on.
‘Oh fuck!’ JJ said suddenly.
‘What?’ Jonas demanded. He eyed JJ’s glass. ‘Oh right…’
‘I’ve run out of wine.’ JJ held up his empty glass and waggled it around.
‘Man down, man down,’ Jonas sang, frantically hunting for another bottle. ‘Connie, where is all the goddamned wine?’
Connie burst out laughing. ‘Bloody hell! What’s wrong with us? We’re pissed off our tits and we’re… we’re middle-aged, for God’s sake!’
JJ sucked his breath in and waved a hand in front of his face dramatically. ‘Stop that, girlfriend! Speak for yourself. Middle-aged? Middle-aged?’ His voice had gone all girly and high-pitched.
Layla shrieked with laughter.
‘Wine!’ Jonas shouted. ‘Where is all the bloody WINE?’
Connie
An hour later, Connie left Jonas and Layla on the sofa talking respectively about the lack of wine and about the horrors of online dating. JJ was on his phone to someone or other and Connie desperately needed a cigarette. She wandered out to the little wooded area at the end of the garden and lit a cigarette. It was quite dark, but there was a glow coming off some solar lights she had placed around the flower beds.
She sighed and blew smoke into the air.
‘Well, well, well…’ said a voice.
Connie smiled. ‘Well. Why are you lurking in the shadows, JJ?’
‘I’m not. I’m here.’ JJ emerged, holding two very full brandy glasses.
‘Brandy?’
‘Yes. No more wine. I think we established that.’
‘We did.’ Connie offered JJ her lighter in exchange for a brandy glass. ‘Have you sobered up yet?’
‘No. And no thanks to the smoking,’ JJ said. ‘I drink, but that’s my only sin.’
‘Hardly,’ scoffed Connie. ‘What about the reams of women you’re always talking about?’
JJ leant against a tree. ‘OK, OK.’ He held his hands up. ‘Guilty as charged.’
Connie stared at him. JJ wasn’t smiling. He didn’t even look happy. She didn’t understand him sometimes. Why did he live this kind of life if he didn’t actually want to?
‘Are you happy?’ she asked him out of the blue.
‘Happy?’ JJ picked at the bark on the tree he was leaning on. ‘Who’s actually happy?’
Connie was about to answer but she closed her mouth. JJ had a point. Not that she could talk about it. And certainly not to JJ.
She let another curl of smoke escape. She felt bad about snapping at Bella earlier. Bella was a good girl and she hardly ever went out. Realising Bella should be home any minute now, Connie checked the time on her phone and saw Bella had already sent her a text to say she was upstairs in her room. Connie felt a rush of motherly relief.
‘Bella’s back,’ she said.
‘Ah, good. I could tell you were feeling worried about her.’
Connie met his eyes then swiftly looked away.
‘Jonas seems stressed,’ JJ commented. ‘All that shouting about wine. I’ve not seen him this drunk in a long time.’
Connie nodded, fe
eling edgy. Stressed was an understatement. And JJ had no idea the effect this could have on Jonas. No idea whatsoever.
‘He is stressed,’ she answered blandly. ‘Work stuff mostly.’
‘Does he even like his job?’ JJ asked, taking a swig of brandy. ‘Christ, this stuff makes my eyes water.’
Connie considered. ‘I don’t know. I think he just hates how hard it is sometimes.’
JJ shrugged. ‘I get that, but it’s a shame. I absolutely love my job. Lots of perks.’
Connie almost made a comment about JJ’s ‘perks’ probably being pretty girls in tight Lycra, then stopped herself. She’d sound bitchy and that wasn’t her. It was up to JJ what he did.
‘It’s mentally good for me,’ JJ said. ‘Exercise. Takes me out of myself. Lets me focus on feeling healthy and strong. That’s important.’
Connie frowned. Where had that come from? The comment sounded as though it meant something somehow, but she couldn’t fathom what that might be.
‘Do you remember how we used to sit outside on my duvet on sunny days and just… talk?’ JJ said suddenly. He grinned at Connie in the near-darkness.
‘I do.’ She started smiling too. ‘What did we even talk about?’
‘Anything and everything. Politics. Fitness. TV shows. Love.’
Connie met JJ’s eyes. ‘Yes.’ She looked away for a second. ‘They were good times, weren’t they?’
‘The best,’ JJ agreed. ‘And we probably didn’t drink as much wine back then.’
‘No. We drank snakebite and black.’
‘So we did. That was disgusting! But it had to be done.’
‘Cardinal Puff,’ Connie said, reminding him of the drinking game they used to play.
‘Haha!’ JJ pretended to pass an empty glass around his head, mimicking part of the game.
There was a comfortable silence between them for a few moments as they reminisced.
JJ put his glass down on a nearby bench and turned to Connie. But he said nothing.
Connie allowed herself to meet his eyes. Just for a moment, there was something between them. Something… just something.
JJ reached out and touched her hand. It was the briefest of touches and then it was gone.
Connie looked down at where his hand had been. Oh God. All those feelings. All that hurt, all that pain. All that love.
Connie was aware of the blood pumping round her body. Of breathing in and out. Of how she looked, of her body. It was like she had come alive again.
JJ still said nothing. But he didn’t stop looking at her.
Connie had to break the connection. Otherwise she was going to get lost in it.
JJ spoke. ‘I… we… it was… something. You and me. Wasn’t it?’
Connie bit her lip. JJ had no idea. He had no idea how much of a ‘something’ they had been. How much she had loved him. No idea at all.
‘I was just… young and stupid.’
Connie wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was right, of course. But she wasn’t sure what to say about it. Did he mean he was young and stupid for loving her? Or for leaving her? She wasn’t about to ask, but Connie really wanted to know.
JJ reached out and held her hand.
Connie felt herself tremble. Which was ridiculous. JJ was holding her hand. So what?
‘Do you ever think about… what could have been?’ JJ asked, not letting go.
Connie let out a short laugh. All the time, JJ. All the time.
‘Not really,’ she said out loud. ‘What’s the point?’
‘There isn’t a point,’ JJ said, frowning. ‘It’s just a thing people do. Well. It’s a thing I do.’
‘I don’t believe in regrets.’ Connie wondered why she sounded so prim. And what on earth was she going on about? She had plenty of regrets.
‘People say that a lot, don’t they? About regrets.’ JJ squeezed her hand, then let go. ‘But I think it’s OK to have regrets. How else do we appreciate the good stuff if we don’t sometimes regret losing something?’
Connie felt confused. What was JJ trying to say? Did he regret them splitting up, or not?
‘We haven’t held hands for years,’ JJ commented suddenly. ‘Your hands are tiny.’
‘We’re not meant to hold hands. I’m married. To Jonas.’ Connie clasped her hands together.
‘Yes.’ JJ thrust his into his pockets. ‘Yes, you are.’
There was silence. Connie wasn’t sure JJ had any real idea how much love there had been between them. And he never would. Their… thing had ended at uni, and that was that.
As if sensing her disconnect, JJ straightened up. ‘Ah well. I guess it was how it was meant to be.’
Connie nodded again, hating the feelings that were swirling inside her. She squashed them down. Made herself think about the countless women JJ slept with. A few horrible images swam into her head; they helped.
‘We should go back,’ she said briskly.
‘One more cigarette?’ JJ suggested. ‘I’ll share it with you, if you like. For old times’ sake.’
Connie hesitated. ‘One more cigarette,’ she agreed.
They shared a cigarette in silence, neither voicing whatever thoughts they might have. Then, without words, they turned and headed back into the house.
Jonas
It was the morning after the night before. And Jonas had the hangover from hell. Worst of all, he was in the office. On a Sunday.
Jonas stared at the mountain of paperwork on his desk. It was a teetering pile of papers and files stuffed to the brim with legal words and clauses and appendices. All of which needed to be waded through and dissected because Jonas’s assistant was off sick and nothing had been done. It was like wading through blancmange. Backwards.
Jonas left his desk and staggered out to the coffee room. Christ, was he still pissed? He punched his usual number into the coffee machine and held his head while the machine whirred and chugged. When the machine stopped, Jonas took the coffee out with a shaky hand and peered into it. Instead of the black coffee, he had a cup full of white froth. What the hell?
Jonas chucked the cup into the sink and started over. He could hardly be bothered, but he needed a caffeine fix. His brain was all fuzzy and he couldn’t concentrate. Why did he have to work so bloody hard all the time? Why was he in the office on a Sunday?
Christ. Jonas rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept properly in days. Weeks, even. He was working stupid hours and he was stressed up to the eyeballs with it all. It felt as though he was trying to hold on tightly to everything that meant something to him, but that somehow, it was turning to liquid and slipping through his fingers.
Jonas pulled his murky-looking coffee out of the machine and headed back to his desk. Some other poor sod who was unlucky enough to be in the office as well mumbled something to him, but Jonas couldn’t be bothered to respond. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk. He stared out of the window, but didn’t really see the view in front of him. He had such a headache. He was drinking far too much at the moment. Daily, probably. A bottle of red wine. A scotch or three on top of that. It was relieving the stress to a degree, but making his head feel shocking the next day. Affecting his moods most likely. He felt so angry all the time.
The thing was, Jonas wasn’t actually sure what he was angry about. He slumped down in his office chair, spilling coffee over his shirt. He was angry about work, for sure. Working long hours. Having more cases piled on him when he was already struggling to juggle the ones he had.
But it wasn’t just work, Jonas thought darkly. It was everything else. It was… pressure. Pressure everywhere. At work and at home. The kids. Connie. Connie. Jonas felt a flash of rage pass through him. Why didn’t she understand what he was going through? Why didn’t she support him more? Why couldn’t she get a proper job now that the girls were older?
And what about that stupid dinner party yesterday? It had been nice enough, but it was all such an effort. The food, the drink (not that Connie had bought enough of that, for s
ome unknown reason), the fancy table settings. Fine, he hadn’t had much to do with any of that, but it wasn’t the point. He could have done with an early night last night.
Why didn’t Connie ever take into account how freaking tired he was, Jonas thought? Again, he felt a shot of pure anger pass through him. He felt itchy and edgy. Like he wanted to explode. Let rip. Get the hell out of here.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to do, Jonas thought. I’m going to get out of here and I’m going home. To have it out with Connie. He didn’t care about work; he wasn’t getting anything done anyway. He was working on three cases of theft and none of them were floating his boat. But the case that was really stressing him out was the huge one. It was complicated and it required more attention than he was able to give it right now.
Pushing his paperwork to one side and chucking his coffee in the bin, Jonas walked out of the office. He got into his car, grateful that he was able to use the office parking at the weekends, and shot home, probably breaking the speed limit and definitely jumping at least two red lights. Jonas could actually feel the blood pumping through his veins. His head was pounding, but he felt alive. Full of rage, but alive. When Jonas got home, he found Connie sitting at her laptop, staring out of the window. She looked beautiful in profile – her nose was perfect, her dark hair looped around her ear showing a small diamond stud. She was wearing a black and white striped dress with one of his cardigans around her shoulders.
Connie turned, startled out of her reverie, when he burst into the room.
‘Jonas.’ She looked anxious. ‘You’re home early.’
‘Am I?’ Jonas slammed his keys down on the table. ‘I shouldn’t even be at work, Connie. It’s Sunday.’
Connie bit her lip and closed her laptop. ‘I know. I’m sorry work is so tough right now.’ She stood up and edged away from the table.
Jonas didn’t care for Connie’s apologies. He could feel the red mist descending and he could hear a pounding sound in his ears. ‘Where are the girls?’
‘Bella’s at her friend’s house and I dropped Hannah off at Sarah’s with her roller skates.’