‘You cannot choose to blow at Edgar …’ They could do the whole monologue between them. That, and most of Victoria Wood’s sketches.
Holly laughed. ‘Not another word. I’m having a night off.’
‘And how is my fabulous god-daughter?’
‘A night off, I said!’ She paused, and considered. ‘Monosyllabic. Messy. Selfish.’ Holly shrugged, then softened. Her voice was quieter. ‘I think she’s okay, Tess. There’s a lot of work, this year. Lots of pressure. Way more than there was for us. But I think she’s okay.’
‘You think?’
Holly shook her head. ‘She’s having some trouble with the girls in her year.’
‘Girls can be horrid.’
‘You don’t know the half of it. Worse than our day. Definitely foul. It’s unbelievable.’
‘What’s going on?’
‘I can’t quite get to the bottom of it yet. I just know she’s getting left out of stuff she used to be included in – she’s home more, the house isn’t full of giggling Gerties like normal, she seems a bit sad … She doesn’t want to tell me. She’s embarrassed, I think. It won’t help to push. You just have to make yourself available, you know. And hope they tell you what’s going on in the end.’
She drained her glass and poured herself some more, noticing Tess’s glass was still full. She put the bottle down deliberately and narrowed her eyes at Tess.
‘Okay. So that’s us. You now. I’m available. And I hope you’ll tell me what’s going on … You’ve been crying. For days, it looks like. Your eyes! You look like an adorable, stylish bloodhound. And then there’s the huge boobs. I clocked those when you sat down, but until you sat wetting your lips with a Chenin blanc, which I know full well to be your favourite, I just assumed you were experimenting – quite successfully, I’d have to say – with new lingerie …’
Tess smiled. Relief. She should have known she couldn’t fool Holly for long. Holly’s guessing was doing the hardest part for her.
‘But …’ Holly leant forward.
Tess nodded.
‘Tess? You’re pregnant!’
Tess took a deep breath. ‘I am. I should have known you’d guess.’
Her friend’s eyes filled with instant tears. She proffered her hands, and, when Tess gave her hers, she squeezed them tightly.
‘Bloody hell, Tess.’
‘Bloody hell, Holly.’
For a moment they sat, staring at each other, caught in the spell and the enormity of the fact.
‘What, when, where, how?’ Holly was laughing and crying.
‘I’ll gloss over the how, unless you need specifics.’
‘No. No, of course not. Ew. I just mean … I mean … wow. Wow. You’re pregnant, Tess.’ She shrugged her shoulders with a shiver of delight.
‘What do you think?’
‘I think it’s bloody fantastic.’ Holly watched her friend’s face. ‘Isn’t it?’
Tess was horrified to realize that her eyes had filled with instant hot tears, and she didn’t immediately know what kind they were.
Holly just sat for a moment, holding her hands, and Tess thought how much she loved her friend. Remembered a conversation fifteen years ago – same basic facts, very, very different tone – when Holly had told her she was pregnant with Dulcie, her god-daughter. On paper, there’d been far more reasons to be guarded in happiness about that baby: Holly had only been twenty years old, still studying, barely solvent, not sure where she stood with Joe, Dulcie’s dad – but Tess remembered Holly’s joy vividly. It had shone out of her, a glow of certain, sure delight. That should have been more complicated – on paper it was – but somehow it had been simple. So simple, to be happy for her.
‘How long?’
‘Ten weeks or so.’
‘Bloody hell! That’s two and a half months.’
‘No flies on you.’
‘Shut up! Two and a half months. And I’m just hearing about this now?’ Her voice was full of mock indignation.
‘Is it any consolation to know that you’re only the third person I’ve told? And one of those was Iris and I’m not sure that really counts.’
‘I’m just teasing. You know that. I’d have hated it if you’d told me over the phone.’
Holly pursed her lips, almost spoke, then changed her mind and said something else.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Tired. Sick-ish. Only some of the time. Actually sick – only a few times. But I think that’s mostly in my head, you know? Boobs are sore.’
‘And huge, by the way. Very Gina Lollobrigida. God, I remember that …’ Holly smiled sympathetically. ‘Happy?’ Her voice was gentle.
‘I think so.’
‘Surprised?’
‘Utterly. I was on the pill, for God’s sake.’
‘Ah … a pill baby. I know a few of those.’
‘Really?’
Holly nodded, assuming the clipped vowels of a public service announcement. ‘Even the most reliable forms of modern contraception are not one hundred per cent reliable.’
‘Yep. Well. I’m one of the one per cent.’
‘Or the baby’s the Second Coming.’
‘Don’t laugh at me –’
‘I am so not laughing, hon. Course not. So, we’ve established it was a surprise. Good surprise?’
Tess nodded gently. ‘I think so, Hols. I think so.’ But then the tears came again, and this time would not be checked, rolling down her cheeks as she was racked by sobs.
‘Honey …’ Holly slipped adroitly out of her side of the booth and in beside Tess, putting an arm around her shoulder, stroking her hair. ‘Ssh … ssh …’
‘It’s not just that. Not just the baby.’
‘What, then? Tell me?’
‘Oh, it’s everything. It’s Iris. She’s going into that home – the one I told you about … It’s Mum … It’s work. It’s Sean.’
‘What about Sean?’
‘He doesn’t want the baby.’
‘What?’ Holly’s eyes widened, her glass stopping halfway to her mouth.
‘He doesn’t want it. At least not at the moment.’
‘Well, you can’t put a baby on hold.’
‘I know. He’s been offered this job in New York. He wanted us to go together.’
‘And a baby is inconvenient?’
‘Something like that.’
‘What a schmuck.’ Holly had never been unbridled in her enthusiasm for Sean. They were oil and water.
Holly had tried, tried hard, when Tess and Sean had first got together – there’d been a series of forced, not-quite-jovial drinks and dinners and days out. Holly had never exactly said she didn’t like him, but they knew each other so well that Tess had guessed. Saddened by the reality of a world where her boyfriend (and possible life partner) and her very best friend in the world didn’t get on, she’d pressed. Holly was uncharacteristically unforthcoming until Tess got exasperated and Holly got tipsy one night, and even then all she would offer up was that she thought he had a bit of a stick up his arse, but that she was sure, over time, Tess would be able to extract it. Tess hadn’t asked her again, and, by mutual agreement, these days they mostly met up on their own, or on girly days out with Dulcie. There hadn’t even been many of those lately.
‘So, it seems we’ve broken up.’
‘Christ. Why haven’t you told me any of this, you daft mare? I knew you’d gone off the air a bit since Christmas, but I assumed it was more to do with Iris.’
‘And it partly is. It’s all happened at bloody once.’
‘And I haven’t been asking the right questions.’
‘That’s not your job, Hols. I’m not saying that at all –’
‘I am. I’ve been preoccupied. Work. Dulcie. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be stupid. Besides, I’m telling you now. I’ve been curled up in a ball most of the time since it happened.’
‘You poor thing.’
‘It’s all such a bloody mess.’
/>
‘You’re still living there?’
‘He’s in New York for a few weeks. I’ve told him I’ll be gone by the time he gets back.’
‘Where will you go? You know there’s always a room with me, don’t you?’
‘You’re lovely.’
‘I’m serious. Any time.’
‘I’m going to ask Donna. Until I can sort something else out. She’s got the room.’
‘I’ve got the room. And we actually get on.’ Tess thought of telling Holly about Donna reading to Iris. But Holly was still talking. ‘It’d be fun. We’d love it. You so should.’
‘Less of the “we”. Are you forgetting you’ve got a husband, and a daughter, and a full-time job?’
‘And a best friend I love to pieces. We ALL love you to pieces.’
Tess shook her head. ‘I need to sort myself out. And I will. I will …’ She couldn’t stop crying. People in the bar were looking at her. Holly threw them daggers and pulled a tissue out of her bag. Tess blew her nose.
‘God, I’m pathetic. Pathetic. Embarrassing. Look at me.’
‘You’re not pathetic at all.’ Holly’s tone was fiercely protective, and Tess loved her for it, but she didn’t believe her.
‘I’m thirty-five years old, Holly, and I’m a total mess. I thought … I thought at least I’d be a bloody grown-up by now.’
‘Whatever the hell that means.’
Tess laughed through her tears.
‘We’re all just winging it, Tess, you know.’
‘Not you.’
‘Yes, me. All of us. No one knows what the hell they’re doing, least of all me.’
‘I don’t see that.’
‘And when I look at you I see someone completely in control too.’
Tess sniffed loudly.
‘Okay, not at this precise moment. Right now I see someone with panda eyes and a snot trail who has probably never needed a glass of wine more than she does at this precise moment, even though she can’t have one.’
She took a swig from her own glass. ‘I’ll do it for you.’
‘Someone with too many balls up in the air just now.’ Holly patted the back of Tess’s hand. ‘Over-juggling. That’s it. It’s all going to be fine.’ She drew out that last sentence and emphasized each word. It’s. All. Going. To. Be. Fine. As if she simply wouldn’t tolerate anything else.
Tess remembered the first time she’d laid eyes on Holly, all those many years ago. As first meetings go, it had been memorable for several reasons. Mostly because Holly had been almost completely naked and swearing her head off. And then because Holly had rescued her from the worst holiday of her life. Love almost at first sight. And pretty much love ever since. Like Iris, Holly was one of the great constants in Tess’s life – more like family to her than friend.
It had been total happenstance. One tweak of either of their plans, and they’d never have met. Even now, maybe especially now, that thought was unbearable. They’d both been travelling in Europe – Holly with a boyfriend, Tess with two schoolfriends she’d vaguely stayed in touch with while she’d been away at university. It was supposed to be a three-week trip by train. And it was supposed to be fun. It had turned out to be a bit of a disaster. She’d gone with Mary and Alice almost by accident, without thinking much about it. She’d wanted a holiday – they were going – they’d hatched the plan in a pub and not really thought it through.
By Gare du Nord in Paris, she’d realized she didn’t have as much in common with them as she’d thought she did, and a growing sense of foreboding had settled on her before they crossed the Swiss border. She’d kept her head down and acquiesced, even though it was abundantly clear that, at almost every decision point, she wanted to see different things, eat different food, head in entirely different directions. By Berlin Hauptbahnhof (when she’d have much rather been pulling in to Vienna, longing as she was to see the Spanish Riding School), they’d realized it too and formed one of those near-imperceptible alliances as girls can, still ostensibly including her in everything but not really, with that subtle cruelty that can be breathtaking. The Berlin Wall, although it had been brought down more than a decade earlier, felt like an allegory. By Centraal Station in Amsterdam, Tess was feeling about as welcome as Typhoid Mary and considering a moonlight flit. Scandinavia was next, and she honestly didn’t think she could face it. They’d trudged single file to the hostel Alice and Mary had chosen, in the Overhoeks district, and at reception they’d persuaded her that their best bet was to take the two private rooms available – one twin and one single – because they were en suite, and weren’t they all tired and dirty, and wasn’t it worth the few extra euros for a really comfortable night? All of which was ill-disguised code for them excluding her, and she knew it, of course. She’d have minded more if a night away from the two of them and their inane chattering, a hot, private shower, and the opportunity to dress and undress without trying to keep herself semi-covered with a towel the size of a large pocket handkerchief weren’t so very appealing.
The rooms were on different floors – Alice and Mary smiled insincerely at her as they exited the lift on the second floor – and it was on the third that she saw Holly. Naked except for a pair of leopard-skin bikini knickers, holding the door of her room open with one leg whilst hoiking a rucksack and its contents into the corridor.
‘We are done. This is so over.’ Tess registered brief surprise that the girl was English. It was such un-English behaviour.
‘What am I supposed to do?’ The whiny voice belonged to a tall, skinny boy – good-looking, but too slight, and far too posh for Tess – who followed his belongings into the corridor and began trying to gather them together.
‘You, Ben Forester, are supposed to fuck the fuck off, in whichever direction you fucking well want. You are confusing me with someone who gives a toss. Just leave, and leave me the fuck alone.’
She put special emphasis on the last fuck, threw Tess a look that might have been apologetic, or deliciously conspiratorial, and slammed the door.
Tess skirted gingerly around the worldly goods of the guy, who had coloured bright red and was refusing to look at her as he shoved lurid floral boxer shorts into the top of his bag, and let herself into her room as quickly as possible to spare him further humiliation. She took off her own rucksack and threw herself gratefully on to the single bed, for once unencumbered by a top bunk. It wasn’t the deepest mattress in the world but the sheets smelt clean, and to her left she could see into the small shower room and – a chorus of celestial angels sang – her own toilet. She smiled broadly to herself. Just for now all was well with the world.
God, how she wished she’d done that to Alice and Mary about three capital cities ago.
She must have fallen asleep despite the allure of the bathroom. When she woke up it was dark outside and there was a note pushed under her door, a hastily written scrawl from Alice and Mary explaining (gleefully, no doubt) that they’d got no answer when they knocked (she bet they hadn’t), and so, assuming she was asleep or out already, they’d gone to find some dinner without her – that they’d see her in the morning, they hoped (they didn’t), for the tour of Anne Frank’s house.
She might well have stayed there – revelling in the solitude, and possibly planning her escape – if she hadn’t realized she was ravenous. She stepped out into the corridor just as, four rooms along, the girl in the leopard-skin knickers, hidden now beneath low-slung camouflage trousers worn with a crop top and a denim jacket, was locking her door. She looked closely at Tess.
‘It was you before, right?’
Tess nodded.
‘I’m really sorry about that. That was really awkward, I bet. Not a spectator sport.’
‘Don’t worry …’
‘I’d just totally completely had enough of him, you know?’
Oh, yes, Tess knew.
The girl seemed intent on explaining herself. ‘It’s been three long weeks.’ She drew out the syllables for dramatic effect. ‘I had
no idea what a complete and utter drip he was. I just got tired of making all the decisions and doing all the planning. I was more like his bloody mum than his girlfriend.
‘Then I find out the bastard slept with someone else just before we left.’ The girl was wide-eyed in her indignity. ‘I mean, part of me is impressed.’ She chuckled. ‘At least it showed … gumption. Which is more than I’ve seen in him for the last three weeks. But he had to go.’
‘And has he? Gone, I mean?’
‘Expect so. Train straight home, I reckon. I think his adventure is over.’
‘And what will you do?’
She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’m not sure.’ Tess detected no hurt or even uncertainty, and she envied this girl her composure. ‘Right now? I’m going to find one of those famous coffee shops … wanna come?’
Tess was surprised to find that she did want to. She nodded. ‘All right.’
‘Good. So … I’m Holly, by the way.’
‘I’m Tess.’
Holly put out her hand and shook hers in an unexpectedly formal gesture. They looked at each other properly. Holly had blue eyes, and a full, sensuous mouth. Her nose was dusted with freckles under a light golden tan. She was lovely.
‘And I don’t normally say fuck that much.’ Which was the first, and pretty much only, lie Holly ever told her.
It was the first great night of Tess’s trip. By the time they’d smoked the obligatory spliff, which neither of them particularly enjoyed, eaten a delicious dinner, which they both did, in a small café by a bridge, and sunk a few beers, their alliance was cemented. Holly had conflated Mary’s and Alice’s names into the entirely suitable ‘Malice’ and advocated the treatment she had doled out to Ben as a fitting one for them.
They had little in common apart from their ages and the happenstance of their geography. Holly was, Tess quickly realized, quite posh. She’d been to boarding school, travelled a great deal in comparison to her and, unfortunately, called her mum and dad ‘Mummy and Daddy’. It was easy enough for Tess to forgive her, though, because she was just so much fun. Unlike Tess, she knew exactly what she wanted to do – she was going to be a teacher, she said. Starting in September. Tess envied her that certainty – she had a history degree and no idea of what to do with it, bar a certainty that banking and accountancy and all things numbers were not for her.
Letters to Iris Page 12