‘What are you doing here?’ she said, as her face dropped.
‘I need to talk to you,’ he said, clearly not knowing the extent of how much she knew.
‘Let’s go upstairs,’ she said. ‘You should take a shower first.’
We didn’t see Marlowe or George for the rest of the evening. They were busy having a heart to heart in the conservatory, and by midnight the rest of us had decided to call it a night.
As I lay in bed next to Amber, I thought about how fun the whole evening had been, just the seven of us in the middle of nowhere. For the entire evening, and accidently, we hadn’t looked at our phones or gadgets once. The evening had somehow consisted of only company and conversation, with the only source of entertainment being Henry’s ability to recite the alphabet in German.
‘Amber?’ I whispered in the darkness.
‘Yeah,’ she said, half asleep.
‘I had a really good time tonight,’ I said, stretching my legs out under the covers.
‘Me, too,’ she said, mumbling, ‘but get your feet off me, they’re freezing.’
I smiled as I pulled the covers around me. We were at a sleepover and I was seven years old again. For the next forty minutes I listened to Amber sleeping soundly by my side. If all we really have is the here and the now then maybe Marlowe’s dad was right, maybe the choices we all make with the best intentions might never come to fruition: only time would tell.
But I did know that our weekend in the Cotswolds with friends and family and too much gin had re-established the equilibrium and re-set the levels of our friendship, to move forward together, not pretending as if nothing had happened, but as if everything had happened.
Chapter Twenty-One – Once Upon a Time…
Our initials were thrown together in gold calligraphy. The ‘C’ and ‘J’ making their own shape as they combined. They slotted neatly together as the swirls of the ink branched out and off to the side. It would have made my heart stop at one time, to see our names so closely entwined. We had been invited to a financiers’ ball, an event that Charlie’s work held every year in the City but this was the first time I had been invited. As I fingered the shiny, gold engraving and stuck it to the fridge using a red chili fridge magnet, I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. It had started as only a tiny feeling; a small bean of suspicion that had been planted in my mind a few weeks ago but now had somehow grown into a stalk of certainty. I’d tried to stifle it and thrown myself into work, building a solid foundation of my own person, should history again repeat itself. It was a strange way to live, always feeling on the outskirts of your own life.
It was a modern-day fairytale, although I hadn’t heard from Prince Charming for days; messages were read but not replied to, telephone calls were made but left unanswered. He’d gone through these periods before, something that I’d grown to accept, but this time, it was different. Thanks to a steely determination on my part, I now had a safety net: a job, a place to go to, a part of my life where he didn’t exist.
It was Saturday night and Amber was holding me hostage over drinks at a bar in Shoreditch, a cocktail sanctuary for the young and carefree in the heart of East London. She was standing next to me, top to toe in beige. The type of girl who could wear double beige and not look like she was naked from afar and if she did, probably wouldn’t care. I, on the other hand, was here to blow off some steam and forget about my current situation. I was now able to relish in the ability to buy my own drinks and even pay for an indulgent taxi-ride home, but it was still a relatively new feeling. I was still getting used to being that girl. There was still a glimmer of optimism surrounding the progress I’d made in the world and although Charlie had been distant during the past few weeks, I couldn’t help but fight the feeling that I was slowly losing the will to care.
‘It certainly sounds like he’s lying,’ Amber said, trying to locate her bankcard in her purse, ‘and you think he’s lying or you wouldn’t be asking my opinion.’
I took our drinks from the bar and held her phone while she looked for it.
‘I just don’t really know what to think, Amber. It doesn’t add up. He works late every night, leaves early every morning and to be honest, I’ve barely seen him in the past three weeks. Yes, I’ve been working late too but, I don’t know, something’s different.’
‘I don’t get it, Jess. I’ve watched you for the past year going through the whole pretending-to-be-someone-you’re-not routine and then you got him and you got the job you wanted, and you still aren’t happy? Yeah, he’s dark, mysterious with a touch of the bad-boy about him. But you knew this all along.’
She was right. I reached inside my bag to check my phone. Nothing.
‘You’ve done well to last this long,’ she said. ‘It’s hard to keep things together, Jess, really hard. Look at me and Jay.’
I was taken aback. Amber hadn’t mentioned Jay since they’d split over two years ago and it was the first time I’d actually seen Amber happily ever after. She picked up her cocktail to take a sip as his name lingered heavily in the air.
‘But then again, people do change,’ she said, quickly correcting herself. ‘Hell, you’ve come this far, why give up now?’
‘I’m not saying I’m ready to end things. I just want to know what’s going on. What if it’s another girl? He’s tied to his phone morning, noon and night and he always comes home later than he says he will. He’s invited me to go to some financiers’ ball with him next Friday night, but it’s hard to talk when you’re surrounded by bankers.’
‘Wankers?’ she said, above the loud music.
‘No, bankers,’ I said, correcting her.
‘Same thing,’ she said, shrugging.
On the outside I was fighting for the cause but inside I couldn’t avoid the realisation that maybe it all just wasn’t worth it.
‘They might just be friends or work colleagues,’ Amber said. ‘Or maybe she’s one of those exes who won’t go away and you have to be polite so they don’t come and piss on your garden. But honestly, Jess, you’re starting to sound like his wife: a dangerous territory without a ring on your finger. I’ll mention it to Mitch and see what he says…’
‘Don’t, Amber…’ I said, as I followed her back to the table.
But it was too late. The only thing worse than confiding your worst fear to a friend was to read the look on her new boyfriend’s face that said I belonged in a loony bin for jealous girlfriends. Amber had only been seeing Mitch for a couple of months. They were still in the first throes of passion and he was likely to side with her for fear of upsetting the apple cart. As they sat together, knee-to-knee, it was apparent I was on their seventh, possibly eighth, date and as a result I thought it best to do the honourable thing and give them at least ten minutes alone.
I escaped to the loos where I could check my phone again and mingle with the other women who inhabited the toilets, preening like exotic birds in an aviary. When women are comfortable in the privacy of such confidential surroundings, there are no limits to the short-term bonds that are formed. There is no more hospitable a crowd, more complimentary or welcoming than the Snow Whites and the Sleeping Beauties of the ladies’ bathroom, especially when they’ve had a cocktail or five with their girlfriends. Their entire world could be falling down around their ears but they would still demonstrate the power of a steady hand to apply their liquid eyeliner in a mirror. It’s honest, it’s raw and offers a sense of community like no place else. I checked my teeth in the mirror for red lipstick and made my way back down the staircase, carefully navigating the way in five-inch heels.
‘She thinks he’s cheating on her. What do you think?’ Amber blurted out as she reached for a bowl of nuts on the table.
I sat down, still drying my hands on a piece of tissue, adjusting my chair.
Mitch sat back as if taking in the audience before speaking. ‘I know you by now, Jess, and you do have the tendency to overreact at times…’
‘She does, yes,’ Amber chipped
in.
This was supposed to be fun drinks on a Saturday night, not a seminar on my personality.
‘But if it were me,’ he continued, ‘I would never stop making the effort. It’s definitely important to put that extra time in.’
I smiled, humouring him. He was clearly giving me advice in the hope of being Amber’s future long term but, as he would soon learn, it’s hard to keep the effort up when real life comes into play; it’s not all just sleepovers and cocktails on the weekend. But I still couldn’t resist in taking the bait.
‘Look, Mitch,’ I could hear myself out loud, saying his name like it was a question. ‘I’m not talking about effort; it’s more a question of monogamy, something I’m not prepared to compromise on.’
‘But he lied to you before, didn’t he?’
His question hit me like a bullet between the eyes. I shot Amber a glance: she’d told him.
‘I’m just saying,’ he replied, ‘if he wants to, he will. Remember that.’
But what about what I want? I thought, as I looked at the two of them kissing each other for slightly longer than I would usually be comfortable with. I had reached my limit. It was time to go home.
At the crossroads I glanced up at the signs, waiting for the red man to turn green and I felt my eyes well up, which surprised me. I had been lying to myself for a while, losing myself in the throes of a new job: arriving early, staying late, soaking up the opportunity in the hope of proving my worth, but there was no mistaking one fact: I didn’t need him anymore. I wanted him, yes, but I didn’t need him. I wiped the uninvited tears from my eyes that had annoyed me by running down my face, ruining my carefully applied eye make-up.
Away from the main road and the glares of passersby, I slipped down a side street where the upheaval of the last few weeks came flooding out. It was happening again. But this time, I didn’t need the idea of a man in my life to be dangled in front of me like the top prize – making sure I played my cards right and was the girl he wanted me to be. It was one game too many. In the privacy of a shop doorway, I just finally let it all go.
I battled with the brackets of my fold-out table/makeshift desk and tried to get on with the paperwork laid out in front of me. I had been working at the magazine for four months now and although it was long hours on shoots, it was proving to be the only form of stability in my life.
‘Morning, Jess,’ Vin said as he arrived in the office.
‘Morning,’ I said, handing him a coffee.
Our mornings had evolved into a routine like clockwork.
‘Can you send me those pictures from the shoot in Camden when you get a minute?’ he said, sitting down to his desk.
‘Sure. They’re on a hard drive in my bag. I finished them at home last night.’
Vin had increased my responsibilities and I was still pinching myself at the fact I was being paid for doing something I would gladly do for free. Having proved myself to be a diligent student, he even listened to my opinion when selecting his final prints. We were operating as a team and the office had become a place I had to drag myself away from to even attempt to retain a semblance of a normal life.
I looked at the clock, shortly after lunch. It was the financiers’ ball later that night and I still needed to convince Vin to let me leave an hour early. Charlie had texted me to say he was picking me up at 7 p.m. As I wiped down the whiteboard to signal the end of another week, I pictured the black ball gown waiting for me in my wardrobe.
‘Vin, can I talk with you about something?’ I said, as he closed his laptop.
‘Is it about next Wednesday’s shoot, because I think that location is terrific.’
‘No,’ I said, tentatively, ‘it’s not about the shoot.’
‘What’s up, Jess?’ he said. I could tell by his face that he was in a good mood.
‘Vin,’ I said, getting straight to the point. ‘I’m so sorry to have to do this and believe me, I know how presumptive this sounds, me sort of still being the new girl and all…’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s just that I’m going to an event with Charlie tonight, a ball,’ I said with a hint of embarrassment, ‘and I need to talk to him about something beforehand. It’s quite important so I was wondering if I could perhaps leave an hour early to give me some time to get ready?’
‘Paint your nails, that sort of thing?’ he said, teasingly.
‘Yeah, something like that,’ I said.
He began to tidy his files away on his desk and stood up to put his coat on.
‘Jess,’ he said, ‘why are you asking me like a girl on work experience? This is your job. If you feel you need to leave early, then leave early. You’ve done some incredible work these past few months and if you think you need personal time, then by all means, take it.’
I stood there, hesitating. In all honesty I wanted to pour myself another cup of coffee and get a head start on the next week’s work. But I had already bought the dress and promised Charlie. Something inside me still didn’t want to let him down.
‘And don’t worry about the others, I’ll write it off as an hour in lieu so you won’t need to bother with it looking like a favour. I know what the gossips around here can be like.’
‘Thank you, Vin,’ I said as I took down my coat from the peg. ‘I appreciate it. I’ll see you on Monday.’
‘Yeah, don’t be late,’ he said, smiling.
Two rushed hours later, I stood in front of my mirror in a floor-length black gown, my hair scraped back in a blow-dried ponytail, face painted, primed and ready to go to the ball. If princes did exist, then mine was running thirty minutes late, currently stuck in traffic south of the river. A balmy sheen ran across my forehead as I tried my best to cool down. It was a swift turnaround, but I had made it all the same. As I fastened my necklace and applied one last wipe of lipstick I heard the horn pip from the pavement outside. I looked out of the window and gave him a small wave; maybe I could try and be the girl who ignored the signs, try and be the girl the slipper fit.
We arrived an hour later and drove up the long driveway to the country mansion flanked by fir trees either side. The lights in the car park lit up the partygoers who spilled out through the large open double doors that framed the entrance to the ballroom. Charlie held my hand tightly as we walked towards a large crystal chandelier that hung over the dance floor where a group of Charlie’s colleagues had signalled us to join them.
‘Jess,’ James said, kissing me on both cheeks. ‘How are you?’
‘Good, thanks,’ I said, smiling hard.
‘Great turn out, Charlie!’ a man wearing a bow tie, shouted as he passed us by.
Charlie nodded to him and let go of my hand. He twisted his cufflinks and pulled down his shirt cuffs, a sign I’d grown to recognise that he was nervous. I reached down and squeezed his hand in support as I searched for a waiter with a fully stocked tray of drinks. From the start, I was out of place, a mismatch, but if all I had to do was show up and laugh heartily at a few jokes to show him I still cared, then that is what I would do.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Charlie whispered in my ear as he leaned in to nuzzle my hair.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ I said, quietly.
‘Sorry for not being around much,’ he said, ‘work’s just been crazy lately.’
‘I know,’ I said, throwing him a lifeline, ‘and I’m sorry that I’ve had to work so much too. I just need to put in the extra hours until I’ve settled in.’
He held my hand and kissed the back of it. ‘I’m proud of you,’ he said, ‘and I’ll always be here.’
‘Charlie…’ I went to speak but was cut off by a group of black suits that swarmed back around us.
‘Waheey… Rainer. How are things?’ a big, plump, blond man squashed tightly inside his suit pushed between us, knocking my champagne as he went. ‘Nigel’s got some gear out back if you’re interested? Looks like this is going to be a pretty crazy night.’ He stopped as he noticed me.
‘Hi,’ he
hesitated.
‘Ah, not tonight mate,’ Charlie said.
‘Is this the Mrs?’ he said, to Charlie more than me.
‘Yeah – this is my girlfriend, Jess,’ he said. ‘Jess, this is Stu.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, holding out his pale, slightly plump hand for me to shake.
It didn’t take long for me to realise that the plan for the evening seemed to revolve around taking out our weekly stresses on the bar bill. I could see James struggle through the crowds, heading our way with two double shots of tequila. My mouth winced.
‘We’re going to miss you, Charlie, you bastard,’ Brian said, handing them to us before violently slapping him on the back. Charlie’s smile faded as he saw my confusion.
‘Are you leaving your job?’ I said quietly, assuming it would be yet another one of my comments missed.
‘Yeah, he’s off to greener pastures,’ James said. ‘Look at you two,’ he laughed. ‘Inseparable.’
Brian walked away from his bombshell remark, leaving me to get splattered with the debris.
‘Maybe we should get some air?’ Charlie said.
He took my hand and led me outside, squeezing our way through the crowds in the doorway. We continued all the way to the car park, my mind racing like a freight train. I was right, was all I could hear myself think, I was right about everything.
‘Look, Charlie,’ I said, as we reached a grassy verge. ‘I’m not sure what all of this is about but maybe you should just be honest. I’m a big girl, I can take it.’
‘What do you mean?’ he said, turning to me.
‘I haven’t seen you in weeks. You ignore me when I try and talk to you. You start work early, finish late… so, if you’re going to tell me that there’s someone else, then you can just tell me. I’ll be okay.’
And that’s when I noticed, for the first time in weeks he wasn’t on his phone, he wasn’t distracted by an email or text, he was actually listening to me.
‘Is that what you think?’ he said.
Love, and Other Things to Live For Page 23