(For, yes, Mum and Dad had loved the horrible bungalow in Danby and they had signed a rental lease for a year. As a result of this I was liking Alice Eliot less and less.)
At the mention of the new house my stomach clenched. ‘How depressing,’ I said, holding up a paper tape-measure.
‘I know,’ said Chin. ‘I know, pet. But that’s the way it is, unless one of us can come up with a fail-safe get-rich-quick plan. I’ve racked my brains but I can’t think of anything. So the house goes. There you are.’
‘How can you be so blasé about it?’ I said.
‘’Cause I’m not Mike,’ said Chin. ‘I’m my mother’s daughter, you know. Your grandmother was a pragmatist. No point crying over spilt milk, and all that. If any of us could think of a way to stop it we would, but it’s not going to happen. And you know – well.’ She stopped.
‘What?’ Tom said.
‘It might not be so bad for us, you know. Letting the house go. I sometimes think…’ Chin sighed, and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. ‘I sometimes think it’s not as great for us as we think. Our family. We’re more than just the house – we’re still a family without it. And I wonder sometimes whether we need to get a grip on reality. A bit,’ she amended, on seeing how aghast Tom and I were. ‘I don’t mean – but look at Rosalie. And look at us. She knows exactly what she’s doing. We have no idea. Mike especially.’
‘That’s not fair,’ Tom said, upset. ‘Chin, that’s not true. You’re basically saying Rosalie married Mike because she thought she’d be Lady Muck. She’s not like that.’
‘Oh, isn’t she?’ Chin said. ‘She’s in her forties, she’s successful but she’s alone, and along comes lovely Mike, a bit useless but fantastic, falls in love with her and proposes. All of a sudden she isn’t alone any more and she’s living in a castle – when your mum and dad can be moved out, that is.’
‘Oh, my God,’ I said, suddenly remembering something.
The others turned to me.
‘What is it?’ Tom said. ‘Lizzy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What?’
‘On Christmas Day,’ I faltered, wishing it wasn’t true, ‘I saw…We’d just come back from church and I saw Rosalie in Dad’s study, going through some old box files, the ones Dad keeps the papers for the house in – the agreement signing it over to Mum and Dad, the lease when Edwin Walter bought it, even the original land sale. Everything. She was reading and making notes.’
‘I knew she was up to something!’ Chin said.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Tom in disbelief.
‘Totally,’ I said. ‘I’ve just remembered something else. Mike appeared as I was standing there, wondering what she was doing. He was kind of embarrassed. He tried to pretend Rosalie was looking for some Sellotape or something. I’m sure he knew what she was up to. He covered up for her, and then she comes out sweet as you like and we have some joke about wrapping presents.’
‘No way,’ said Tom, and Chin swore under her breath.
‘Do you remember I had that drink with David?’ she said.
‘When?’ Tom asked.
‘The same day we found out about the house,’ I said, trying to sound casual. ‘Yes, what happened?’
‘Well, we were just catching up, really.’ Chin looked shifty. ‘I didn’t do anything about it, because of everything that happened afterwards. And he saw you all hiding from him as he walked in – that’s why we left.’
‘Oh, God,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ Chin said sternly. ‘Stupid of you. Anyway, it’s just that he said something weird. But I think he was wrong. He was a bit pissed off because Lizzy and the rest of you were pretending not to have seen him. Like the playground. She should have just gone up to him and said hi.’
‘Hello, I’m still here,’ I said, tapping Chin’s shoulder, although I agreed with her and inside I was dying at the thought of how childish it must have seemed to David, how strange it must have been for him to see his brother with his ex and her family. ‘What did he say?’
‘About you?’
‘No,’ I said firmly, although I desperately wanted to know. ‘About Mike.’
‘Oh,’ Chin said. ‘Well, he asked me if Mike was OK for money at the moment. And I said, “Yes, of course, why wouldn’t he be?” And David said he’d heard that he’d lost his job.’
‘What?’ Tom and I exclaimed.
‘Mike hasn’t lost his job,’ Tom said. ‘We had a long chat about it. What the fuck was David talking about?’
‘He was just trying to stir,’ I said, although I knew that that wasn’t David at all. ‘In any case,’ I said. ‘Rosalie wasn’t with Mike for money, that’s for sure. She doesn’t need it – she’s got loads. She wanted the life. She’s a property lawyer, for Christ’s sake, she knows whether she’s on to a good thing or not. I bet she thought she was with Keeper House. Lady of the manor and all that.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Chin. ‘There’s something odd about it, that’s all.’
‘Still,’ Tom said, ‘Rosalie hasn’t actually done anything illegal, has she? The worst you can say of her is that…well, she’s a bit of a fantasist.’
‘A fantasist who marries a man she only met a couple of weeks before, then rifles through his family possessions and walks out on him a couple of months later,’ said Chin. ‘And where is she now? Found someone richer than Mike? I wouldn’t be surprised, you know.’
‘God, do you think that’s it?’ I said.
‘Mike’s well out of it,’ Chin said, fingering some broderie-anglaise ribbon. ‘You mark my words, she’d have had us out of Keeper House faster than you can say “knife” if she’d been able to.’
‘I liked her,’ Tom said stubbornly.
‘I thought I liked dresses and things, and then I started planning this wedding, and let me tell you, if I see a square inch of lace ever again I’m going to throw up. Good grief, where is that woman?’ She passed a hand across her forehead. ‘Anyway, it’s a bloody strange thing for David to say, don’t you think?’
TWENTY
On the bus going home I kept thinking about Rosalie and Mike. The old truth that you never understand anyone else’s relationships, even if you’re their closest friend, was so true. I would never have expected Mike to show up on Christmas Eve with a total stranger as his bride – or that I would end up liking her and believing she was in love with Mike and that they’d probably be very happy together.
As the bus trundled up Park Lane, I stared out of the window into Hyde Park. The late-afternoon sun shone across the grass, and clumps of daffodils waved in the wind under the trees. This time last year David had been getting ready to go to New York.
After we had broken up I had had brief flashes of blinding optimism, thinking sometimes that Miles might have exaggerated, that I’d overreacted and we could get back together. Sometimes I thought about David and Lisa together. And when I thought about how much I missed him and remembered what it was like when we were together, I felt silly afterwards, because even though I didn’t want to admit it, I knew it was over, and that he simply hadn’t loved me enough. I couldn’t think without blushing about the evening I’d kissed him again. The way I’d flirted with Miles, enjoyed hurting David. That and then been all lovey-dovey with Jaden. It was all so horrible, and I wasn’t that kind of person.
Perhaps, though, I was that kind of person, and that was why David had slept with someone else. As I jumped off the bus at the Saturday market on Church Street my phone rang again, reminding me I had to call Jaden, then factor in some lazing-around time before I went to Ash’s. I’d got him a birthday present, a book about film directors, but I was looking for something else: the market has an excellent selection of reasonably priced clothing, which Georgy, who only buys from Bond Street, turns up her nose at but which I love. In my flat there were at least five bags containing some nylon top or cheap-looking cardigan that I had bought at the market in a moment of weakness.
My friend Pete from university runs a
stall in Alfie’s covered antiques market. He sells nice trinkets and inter-estingly designed things that take his fancy, so I wandered over to see him and ended up buying Ash a cool plastic ashtray, bright orange and globe-shaped. I trailed around, eyeing silver, old clocks, costumes and books. Outside again, I resisted the charms of a grey pencil-skirt for only ten pounds, which even I, with my shopping blindness, could see was cheap and nasty and would ruche up in all the wrong places. Instead I bought a potted plant and a cheap bottle of Gordon’s gin and went home, glad that I’d purchased something, having been shopping all day and unable to spend any money – unless you count paying for five yards of pale blue silk taffeta in John Lewis because the bride has suddenly discovered she’s left her purse in Peter Jones and has a total melt-down on the shop floor. I don’t.
At home, I wearily dropped my bags to the floor and sank down on to the sofa. My phone rang again, and since I knew Jaden would carry on calling till I spoke to him (he didn’t believe in games or playing hard-to-get) I answered it. He was calling from an unregistered number.
‘Hello there,’ I said, rather coldly, and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ said Jaden. ‘Thank God, Lizzy, I’ve been trying you on your mobile and at home all bloody day.’
He sounded absolutely miles away. And a bit funny. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
‘Yes, I’m fine, I’m just relieved to have got hold of you. It’s – it’s nice to hear your voice.’
I froze. It wasn’t Jaden. It was David. Calling me.
When I sometimes fantasized about David ringing out of the blue, I was always in a chic bar laughing at sophisticated bons mots from several gorgeous men, wearing my fantastic new boots and flinging one leg over the other. He would be desperate to chat, and I would say, regretfully but gaily, ‘David, I’m so sorry about this, but I’m really going to have to go. I can barely hear what you’re saying and I must rejoin my companions. Thank you so much for calling, all good wishes, goodbye.’
‘Oh, my God, it’s you,’ I said. ‘Ouch,’ I added, as I stamped on my foot. Behind me, the kettle started squealing and rattling on the hob.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ said David. ‘What’s that wailing sound?’
‘Arhm…’ I turned off the kettle and thought frantically. ‘It’s a protest. I’m in Trafalgar Square with some protestors. Friends. Protesting friends, you know.’
Why had I said that?
‘What?’ said David. ‘You’re at a protest? You? For whom? Or against whom?’
It always irritated me that David said whom, really emphasizing the m. I drew strength from this. I looked out of the window. A bull mastiff was mauling a rubbish bin. ‘Well, Battersea Dogs’ Home,’ I said. ‘They – it needs to be heard. And that’s all there is to it. So…how are you?’
‘I’m fine. I didn’t realise I’d be tearing you away from, er, your protest. I got your mobile number off Miles. You’ve changed it since…Anyway, you’ve changed it.’ He paused. ‘Look,’ he went on, ‘I’m really sorry to bother you but I…’
‘Yes?’ I said.
‘I wouldn’t have rung but I thought I should. I didn’t want to…you know, talk to you.’
I did wish David wouldn’t make it quite so plain, whenever he spoke to me now, that he’d rather be sharing quality time in a cell with Jeffrey Archer than talking to me. It made me feel even sadder about the inequality of our old relationship. And it made me want to shout things at him, like Did you know I had to take a week off work after we split up? Did you know I started crying on the bus two weeks later and an old lady called Martha put her arm round me and that made me cry even more, so much so that the conductor thought I was having a fit? Did you know any of that? No, of course you didn’t, and I would never tell you.
‘Thanks,’ I said coldly.
‘Sorry, bad choice of words.’ The line crackled. ‘Lizzy, I don’t have much time, I’m afraid, I’m working today and I’m late. I’ll have to go soon.’
‘To shag someone in the photocopying room?’ I said in my head. ‘Right, well, what is it?’ is what I actually said.
‘Well,’ David began. ‘Sorry, I’m not putting this very well.’
‘What?’ I said.
‘It’s about – God, this sounded OK when I was thinking it through but now it just sounds fucking ridiculous.’
‘Don’t swear,’ I said automatically, which is what I used to say as a reflex whenever he did. One Lent, his mum tried to make him pay her a pound each time he swore. He was thirty at the time. She’d worked out she could retire to Jamaica after two weeks, but he never paid up.
‘I’d forgotten that,’ David said. He sounded remote.
‘OK,’ I said. I could feel it in my chest – the tightness, the shortness of breath like a panic attack…the delirious rush of being someone else, someone I used to be. I pulled myself up. ‘I saw Chin today and she told me about you seeing us at Christmas. At the pub. I’m sorry, I hope you don’t think we were – well, we were avoiding you. But not in a rude way.’
David coughed. ‘Oh, Lizzy, for God’s sake, that doesn’t matter. I’d forgotten about it. Good grief, I’m a big boy, you know, I can cope with – I was meeting Chin for a drink to talk about stuff. Look, we’re getting off the subject.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, irritated. I try to apologize and it turns out he was grateful to us for hiding from him. Cor, this conversation was going well.
‘Be quiet for two seconds, will you?’ David cleared his throat. ‘I was just ringing to see if you were OK about last time.’
‘Last time?’
‘Well, what happened in the kitchen. I – I was just ringing to say…were you OK about it? Because if not, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it.’
‘You shouldn’t have done…’
‘I shouldn’t have kissed you. I was drunk.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘Lizzy?’
‘Yes, hello,’ I said. ‘You were drunk.’
‘Yeah, wasted. I drank far too much, there you were, all the old memories, haze of red wine – then bam!’
‘You were so mashed you jumped on me,’ I said.
‘Er…yes. No. Well, I wasn’t that drunk. I’m not saying I was so pissed I didn’t know what I was doing but, well, you know how it is.’
Jesus, he sounded almost jaunty. ‘No,’ I said pointedly.
‘So…er…were you OK about it?’ he said.
‘Me?’ I said, trying to buy myself a few seconds. ‘Me? Ha.’
‘Right,’ David said. I could hear him breathing as he walked up and down the corridor in his apartment.
‘What are you doing?’ I said, playing for time.
‘Putting my coat on. I’m going to be late.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘No, of course I was fine.’
‘Were you?’ David said.
‘Me?’ I laughed, and tried to toss my hair in a devil-may-care fashion. ‘God, of course. Yeah. It wasn’t all you, you know. I was drunk too. Really, I was knee-walking drunk. Yeah. I was sick everywhere afterwards. Everywhere. I was much drunker than you.’
‘Right, then,’ David said.
I carried on: ‘It was great to see you, though. Tom and Jess were really pleased. So thanks for coming. Sorry about the food. That’s why I was so drunk I expect, no food and all that. Jaden had to put me to bed, yeah. After I’d been sick everywhere. Because I was so drunk.’
David cleared his throat. ‘Well, good. That’s partly why I wanted to make sure everything was OK. I didn’t want to cause any problems with you and – Jaden. Make you think anything weird was up. That’s great about Jaden and—’
Someone else’s voice floated over in the background. ‘David?’
‘In a minute,’ David shot back, under his breath.
‘Who’s that?’ I asked sharply. Lisa. Oh, my God, she was there. He called me while she was in his apartment. I leaned against the wall.
David said, in a low
voice, ‘I can’t explain now.’
‘Yes, you fucking can.’
‘Don’t swear,’ he said softly.
‘Don’t make old jokes with me when your new girlfriend’s listening in to our conversation,’ I hissed. ‘I’m going now, goodbye.’
‘Lizzy!’ David said sharply. ‘Don’t go. Liz?’
‘I’m here.’
‘It’s not my new girlfriend, as you put it. God. Women. It’s…Well, it’s a bit awkward. That’s also why I was ringing.’
‘Mm?’
‘It’s…Rosalie. She’s…She’s staying with me.’
‘What?‘ I said, not believing my ears.
‘Yes. And I’m not sure…Do you know what’s happened?’ He sounded hesitant. ‘With her and Mike?’
‘Oh, yes,’ I said. My mind was racing. What was going on? Men. They were as straightforward as a room full of rubbish.
‘Have you spoken to Mike?’
‘No,’ I said impatiently. ‘Rosalie’s staying with you? David, why?’
There was a pause. Then David lowered his voice so I could barely hear him. ‘She’s really upset. She needs someone to look out for her. We’re…close.’
We’re close. What the fuck does that mean? I thought, as a horrid suspicion took root. I swallowed. It absolutely couldn’t be that.
‘Look, has anyone said anything to you about why she left?’ David said.
‘No,’ I said, my mind full of half-answered questions. ‘Stop a minute, David. Does Mike know where she is? Mum says he’s been really worried about her. We all are. Can’t she just ring him and tell him she’s staying with you?’
‘I’m going to do that later,’ David said. ‘I need to have a chat with him, anyway.’
‘David, is that why you were ringing?’ I said.
‘I wanted to apologize,’ David said. ‘I didn’t want you to find out Rosalie was here, not yet, anyway. She needs some time to – well, think about stuff. God, this is awkward. So you haven’t spoken to your parents?’
I put my hand on my chest to calm myself, and tried to keep my voice steady. ‘No, I haven’t.’
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