Still Thinking of You

by Adele Parks

  Instead, Kate commented, ‘Natasha is beautiful, too, don’t you think?’

  There was nothing more annoying than an ugly duckling turning into a swan except, mused Mia, a girl that was born swan, lived swan and died swan. Tash was lovely. And while Mia hadn’t personally known her at primary school, she was prepared to put a bet on the fact that Tash had always been lovely. She was the type of girl that played Mary in the school nativity play. (Mia had always been given the more vocal but considerably less glamorous part of a shepherd, Kate had always been a sheep and Jayne had been a tree. Jayne still smarted from the humiliation of having to wear nothing other than brown tights and a green roll-neck jumper on stage.) Tash was the girl who the teacher trusted to take the class goldfish home during the summer holidays. She was the girl that fuelled every boy’s early teen dreams in her secondary school. Mia knew this without even having to talk to Barbie Babe.

  ‘Hello, ladies, have you missed me?’ Jase bounced into the foyer. It appeared everyone had. Jayne stretched and sat up, apologizing for catnapping in public; Kate and Tash beamed at Jase, simply pleased to see him, as he always helped the group to gel. Mia grinned in delight at the arrival of her sperm bank.

  ‘I wonder where Ted is?’ said Kate. ‘It’s quarter to eight. He’s going to be late.’

  ‘He’ll be here in his own time,’ assured Jase.

  Kate leant close in to her two old friends and said, ‘Can I ask you something?’ Her normally strong face was crumpled.

  ‘Ask away,’ Jase grinned.

  ‘Have you noticed anything different about Ted?’

  Mia and Jase stared at Kate, then exchanged confused looks.

  ‘Different, how?’ asked Jase. ‘Has he had a haircut? New snow gear?’

  ‘No, no, don’t be silly,’ said Kate, not realizing that Jase was being perfectly serious. ‘I, he’s, I.’ Kate wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. ‘Do you think he’s behaving oddly? More distracted than normal? Less communicative?’

  Kate felt that she was betraying her husband by mooting these ideas to their friends, but she didn’t mean any harm, quite the opposite. She just had to know if she had an overactive imagination or if anyone else had noticed that Ted wasn’t quite himself. He was not so jovial of late. Not so confident and loud. Obviously she would not mention to their friends that his sex drive, usually respectable, had nosedived off the scale over the past few months. Dried up altogether, actually. She hadn’t noticed at first. They’d been together for so long, and the children were such a drain on time and energy that loving had long since been confined to a once-every-couple-of-weeks activity. But then a month went by. Then several. She wouldn’t dream of telling Mia and Jason this. She couldn’t stand those horrible American-style confessionals. She had her pride.

  Nor did she mention that he’d missed the parents’ evenings at both Fleur’s and Elliot’s schools, and he was normally so involved with the children. He said he’d clean forgotten, even though she’d reminded him on the relevant mornings. He was always forgetting things nowadays. The other day he went to the office having forgotten his watch, and he’d twice forgotten to shave. Thank God for casual dress and designer stubble because otherwise he’d stick out like a sore thumb. Could he be ill? His uncle on his father’s side had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. It was a tragedy to watch, but he’d been so much older, in his seventies. Ted was a young man. Although, he didn’t always act it.

  ‘Do you think he could be ill?’ she blurted.

  Jason and Mia silently stared their response. Eventually Jason said, ‘He seems chipper to me.’ He nudged Mia, who was internally fuming that Kate really didn’t have enough to worry about. If the children were here, she’d have been imagining all manner of chills and coughs and colds. As she didn’t have them to fuss over, she was diverting her smothering attention towards Ted. Poor Ted.

  ‘Tops,’ said Mia, with a yawn.

  Kate nodded, pleased to have received reassurance, however unenthusiastic. ‘I wonder where he is?’ she repeated.

  ‘Action Man and Checkers have gone to the pool hall,’ said Mia. ‘Maybe he’s joined them.’

  ‘We’ll all be late for dinner,’ fretted Kate. ‘What’s he thinking of, wasting his time in pool halls? I think I’ll go and find him.’

  Mia and Jason rolled their eyes at one another as she bustled off. Jase was sitting close to Mia. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she reciprocated by patting his leg.

  ‘Big Ted and Ms Monopoly can be really irritating,’ she confided.

  ‘They’re your best friends,’ Jase reminded her.

  ‘I suppose, but I feel like I’m on holiday with my parents. The way Ms Monopoly checks up on him all the time. Where is he? Has he eaten a good breakfast? Is he going to be on time? And Big Ted’s turned into an old man. Have you noticed the way he has to zip up his coat, put on his hat and gloves and scarf before he’ll leave any building, even if he’s only going to be outside for 100 yards? He’s not Scott of the bloody Antarctic.’

  ‘Ah, that’s what you don’t like. They remind you that you aren’t twenty. Because they act their age, they remind you of yours. You resent it.’

  Mia glared at Jason, and wondered how it was that he knew her so well. Better than she knew herself at times.

  Scaley’s gaze fell in the direction of Tash and Jayne. All thoughts of Kate and Ted disappeared. Jayne had been very flirtatious this afternoon when they’d stumbled into one another in that bar, thought Jason, and she looked so sweet snuggling up with Tash. It was fantastic that they were becoming great friends. Jase allowed himself to feel a bit warm and fuzzy once more. Talking to Jayne in the bar had started him off again. If he were to play with the idea of, or at least consider the possibility of… well… maybe… looking to date steadily. Well, then Jayne would be a perfect candidate. If he permitted himself, he could easily imagine a scenario where he and Jayne, and Rich and Tash went out for cosy foursome dates or had informal supper parties at his flat. Yeah, he could imagine dating Jayne, Jayne becoming his girlfriend.

  He was almost positive that it wasn’t just the drink making him think this way.

  It wasn’t just that Jayne was a fox – although, fuck, was she ever a fox. That arse, those tits, those lips. They could have a really good time together. But besides her being one sexy honey – who was clearly coming on to him – she was also a really great person. She’d been so interested in him. She insisted that they’d met two or three times in the past, over the years, at family things of Ted’s, but Jase couldn’t remember talking to her at the various weddings and christenings they’d both attended. He knew himself well enough to know that the reason he couldn’t remember them talking was that he couldn’t remember Jayne looking this good. If he had remembered her as such a honeypot, then he’d have definitely struck up a conversation.

  This afternoon she had been so animated, so interested. She’d wanted to know all about how Jase and Rich had met and what stuff they’d got up to over the years. She was a great listener and seemed to find the Jase-and-Rich pulling stories of old just as hilarious as, well, as Jase did. It was also very sweet, the way she asked him about how he thought he’d recognize the One when she came along. Clearly she was fishing for compliments. She might have shrouded the enquiry in a question about how did Rich recognize Tash as the One when Tash came along, but Jase wasn’t stupid. He got the feeling that Jayne really just wanted to talk about him.

  Get in there!

  When Jason had packed for this holiday he had packed with his usual inimitable style and care. He’d popped six Boxfresh T-shirts into his Hermès travel bag. Alongside his numerous pairs of Diesel and Helmut Lang jeans (different cuts, different shades). He’d also packed three pair of trainers – Diesel and Nike Air Max to hang in, and a pair of Adidas Micropacers to train in (they had that magical little computer chip that measured the distance covered – disappointingly, it was never the distance he hoped). He didn’t pack any of his Armani s
uits or Patrick Cox loafers, nor his Prada shirts; this gig was casual. He’d known that there wouldn’t even be any strip joints, so he had no need of brogues. He’d packed a pair of Johnny Mokes especially for the wedding ceremony. He was planning on wearing a Dolce and Gabbana shirt and Armand Basi trousers, made to measure, Conduit Street. While playing down his sartorial elegance – after all, he didn’t want to upstage the groom, let alone the bride – his outfit was the right mix of criminally expensive and understated. At the time he’d thought that his attention and deliberation would go unnoticed by anyone important, by which he meant anyone pullable. It was unlikely that the package-holiday ski bunnies would care what he was dressed in. But Jayne would. Now he was glad that he hadn’t let his standards slip.

  A vision flashed into Jason’s mind. It was of him and Rich standing at the top of an aisle. He’d had that vision a few times since he’d agreed to be Rich’s best man, even though Rich and Tash hadn’t opted for the traditional church affair. A bolt of fear and excitement shot through Jason’s body. In this imagined scenario, he wasn’t the best man… he was the groom.

  Jesus.

  He wasn’t saying that he wanted to marry Jayne, for fuck’s sake. It probably was the champagne allowing these fantasies to float into his mind. But were they totally ludicrous?

  Yes. They were. Frankly, he’d settle for a shag.

  Mia followed Scaley Jase’s gaze. Jason was probably going to have to excuse himself to go and have a wank. She had been struck by the beautiful picture Tash and Jayne made. There was no way Jase was oblivious to it. Mia knew him well enough to know that this was the stuff of his fantasies, a tall blonde and a curvy brunette languishing on the sofa, chatting, giggling, gossiping together. To be fair, the girls probably made up the stuff of most men’s fantasies. The only other more beautiful twosome that sprung to mind was Kylie and Dannii.

  Mia squeezed Jase’s leg and winked at him, mouthing the word ‘hot’ as she popped the olive from her drink into her mouth.

  Jase laughed, and asked, ‘How is it that you always know what I’m thinking?’

  ‘Because you’re always thinking the same thing,’ Mia laughed back.

  28. Minuscule Talk

  Tash didn’t really enjoy dinner. She should have been having a good time. After all, she was staying in the most beautiful hotel she had ever visited, and she was eating the most delicious food, and she had spent the morning boarding and the afternoon lazing, and it was only days until she married the man of her dreams. The problem was she couldn’t help but think that it would have been nicer if they’d been alone in this beautiful hotel and they were having a candlelit meal à deux and that she’d spent the day boarding with Rich.

  Tash had barely seen Rich all day, as he’d spent it teaching Jase and Mia. She didn’t want to appear selfish – she knew that it was lovely that all of Rich’s friends had joined them to celebrate their wedding. It was, after all, an investment both in terms of their time and of their finances, but… well, she hadn’t asked them, had she? And frankly, she wouldn’t choose to share the planet with Mia, let alone an intimate boutique hotel. And yes, the food was delicious, but the menus were in French and it was far too posh an establishment for them to provide a translation, let alone large plastic menus with green-tinged photographs of the dishes. Tash was extraordinarily grateful that the menu was set, at least she didn’t have to make a choice. She might not have known what she was about to eat, but she didn’t have to admit as much to anyone.

  Tash had come to the meal with good intentions. She felt a teeny-weeny bit guilty about the conversation at lunch time, but only a teeny-weeny bit – Mia had provoked her. Tash would have been prepared to call a truce, but clearly Mia wanted blood.

  ‘Do you understand the menu, Barbie Babe? You mentioned that foreign languages aren’t your forte.’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Tash replied, but she couldn’t summon a smile, not even a fake one.

  ‘I could translate for you,’ offered Mia. Tash doubted she was trying to be helpful. Tash was saved from further embarrassment by the beep-beep of an incoming text message. ‘My God, fancy that. I’ve just got a message from Giles Hewitt-Simpson,’ smiled Mia.

  There were smiles around the table and general murmurs about what a good chap Giles was, a great pal.

  Here we go, thought Tash, social bingo.

  ‘How is he? I haven’t seen him since the cricket season finished,’ asked Ted.

  ‘Bloody marvellous. Says he’s got a promotion and is off stateside in February,’ screeched Mia.

  Two fat ladies – eighty-eight.

  ‘Talking about people going overseas, I got an e-mail from Clara the other week. She’s about to emigrate, too. Hong Kong. Coutt’s couldn’t manage without her,’ said Kate.

  Legs eleven.

  ‘Sadie and Charles are moving to a place in the country, had enough of the smoke,’ added Lloyd, determined not to be left out.

  Open the door, forty-four.

  ‘Samuel has finally proposed to that banker girl. We got an invitation to the wedding. Should be fantastic. Her father is a lord, you know.’

  Clickety click, sixty-six.

  ‘Me, too.’

  A duck and a flea, twenty-three.

  ‘Yes, I did as well. I’m planning on buying a new hat.’

  Bingo.

  Tash had to remind herself that these were some of the best-educated people in London and that they held down some of the most stimulating jobs available. It was a marvel, then, that their conversation always seemed to focus on catching up on news of people that weren’t even there. Tash wondered if the gang really cared for these people or whether it was a game of social one-upmanship. Either way, she couldn’t join in. She didn’t know Giles or Clara or Samuel or Sadie or any of the people attached to these glamorous names and lives. Tash felt lonely at the end of the table. It was bad luck that she was sat opposite dull Ted and next to dire Mia. Rich was at the other end of the table, in between Lloyd and Jase, and opposite Jayne. Tash would have done anything to swap places. She feared her silence was all the more notable because everyone else seemed to be having a fantastic time. Banter and laughter darted up and down the table faster than Rich got up mountains or Jase got up women.

  ‘More wine, Barbie Babe? Your glass is empty.’ Was it? Tash was surprised. She must be knocking them back at some rate, rather more hurriedly than steadily, and certainly more hurriedly than advised. Well, it was something to do. ‘You’re drinking white, aren’t you? We need to order some more. Any preference?’ asked Mia.

  ‘You choose,’ replied Tash.

  ‘You must have a preference. A Sauvignon blanc, Sémillon, Savagnin, Sylvaner?’

  Tash wondered if Mia had listed all the wines beginning with ‘S’ just to confuse her. ‘I really don’t mind.’

  ‘Perhaps you have a regional preference, rather than a grape? Would it help if I told you which are les bonnes années?’

  ‘Not really,’ shrugged Tash. She just wanted the bottle open and the wine in her glass. In fact, she wanted to fast-forward to the stage where she’d consumed enough not to care about Mia’s snobbery.

  ‘Mia has a Master’s in wine tasting,’ said Ted.

  Tash laughed. ‘A few of my friends could claim the same.’

  ‘No, I’m serious,’ said Ted. ‘She has a genuine qualification.’

  ‘Oh, I meant my friends have a genuine problem,’ giggled Tash. Ted didn’t get the joke. He blushed and said that was unfortunate.

  Tash noted that Rich wasn’t on his best form either. Despite being at the fun end of the table, he was very quiet. Tash thought that maybe he was missing her as much as she was missing him. She couldn’t reach him physically, so she tried to catch his eye and create quiet moments of intimacy in between the chat and chaos. It was impossible. He stared resolutely at his plate. Had he caught the sun? He was very red. Or perhaps he was flushed with alcohol. God, she longed to kiss him. When Tash kissed Rich, she was
sure that he was the perfect partner for her. She forgot that Mia left her feeling grubby and not quite up to scratch.

  ‘How are you getting on with the boarding?’ Jayne asked Mia. Tash wondered if Jayne was being mischievous. She hoped so. What a pal. Perhaps she’d heard Mia patronizing Tash and was making a point that everyone couldn’t excel at everything. The warm affection Tash already felt for Jayne cranked up a notch or two. ‘Would you call yourself a freestyler or a linderet?’ Jayne pursued. Tash wanted to giggle.

  Mia scowled. ‘I haven’t reached the stage of developing a style,’ she admitted.

  ‘What does that mean, a freestyler or a linderet?’ asked Kate, who was trying to take the spotlight off what was clearly, for Mia, a sore point.

  Rich explained, ‘I’m a freestyler, which works well here as Avoriaz is full of natural hits and big air opportunities.’ Kate nodded politely, although she was none the wiser. ‘Jason is likely to become a linderet as soon as he develops a style of his own.’

  ‘They play a lot, in parks, doing clever tricks,’ said Mia, who, Tash noted, had at least mastered the lingo, if not the toe and heel edges. ‘Linderets spend their time showing off, mostly,’ she added, as though she were already someone’s mother.

  ‘Still, you have the best teacher I could imagine. I’m sure you’ll be flying down the slopes soon and not just on your bum,’ said Jayne. Tash wanted to kiss her. ‘I’ve learnt such a lot of new moves from Rich, and my general technique has improved no end under his tuition,’ she added with a smile and a wink at Rich. Tash noticed that Rich looked uncomfortable. He wasn’t good at receiving compliments. But wasn’t Jayne a sweetie? She was trying so hard to be nice.

  ‘When?’ asked Mia.

  ‘We spent some quality time together this afternoon.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it that,’ said Rich.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough. I’ll never forget it.’ Jayne gazed at Rich.

  Rich looked up from his raiole de foie gras and glared back at Jayne.