‘Shhh,’ I replied. ‘I know he’s a complete dick, but the least we can do is tolerate him for one night. Please be on your best behaviour, Amber. Do it for Sean.’
‘I will,’ she said, ‘Scout’s honour.’ I laughed as she crudely licked the rim of her champagne glass.
‘I was hoping I’d bump into you again,’ James said into Marlowe’s ear as she leaned across to kiss Charlie. ‘I’ve got something for you back in the office.’
‘For me?’ she said, smiling.
‘I was gifted some original prints from Dianne Cagney as a thank you for my work on the billboards. There’s a dusty pink one that’s from her latest collection, something… Sahara, I think it’s called. Anyway, as soon as I saw it I thought of you.’
‘Well, where is it?’ she said.
‘It’s currently bubble-wrapped sitting on my office floor. I’ll get a courier to drop it off for you on Monday.’
‘Or I could come and get it?’ she said, before quickly looking away.
‘Whatever works.’ James nodded, trying to sound as equally relaxed about the whole thing.
‘Mars,’ George shouted, ‘your mum keeps ringing my phone: take it outside and see what she wants, will you? It might be something to do with Elsa.’
‘Thanks again, James,’ Marlowe said, as she took the phone onto the roof terrace.
I had initially followed Marlowe outside to see if she was okay, but once I was at the edge of the terrace, I quickly got sidetracked by the view below. I looked out over the rooftops of London glistening in the darkness: flats, houses, offices, all dotted about like fairy lights, lighting the way across the sky. I perched myself on the arm of a bench to take it all in. There was one other person that I needed to say goodbye to: London, for she had been witness to it all. I could hear Marlowe talking in hushed tones as she hung up the phone and slid it back into her bag.
‘You all right?’ I said as she turned to go back inside.
‘Yeah, Elsa’s just restless and won’t sleep unless one of us is there. But as I keep saying, she needs to learn. Apparently that makes me a bad mother. Jess…’ she said, starting to speak before stopping herself.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said, quickly. ‘I need to take this phone back to George.’
‘I can’t believe you’re leaving, you total cow,’ Amber said, grabbing me around my neck. I had gone back inside in an attempt to find Marlowe but had somehow found myself on the dance floor instead.
‘My hair, Amber,’ I cried, as she attempted to spin me around.
‘Sean, it’s your job to clean the oven now she’s gone,’ Amber said, laughing.
‘Yes, Sean,’ I shouted. ‘Please do run a cloth over her place every once in a while. I can’t make it back every Saturday morning to clean.’
‘And we’ll come and visit,’ Henry said. ‘I’ve always wanted to see where Sean was born.’
‘You’re welcome any time, either with Sean or without him. You’re my friend too, now.’
I smiled at him as Sean reached down and threw me over his shoulder. In a blurry, twisted haze, I could feel the world spinning quickly around me.
‘Put me down!’ I giggled before sinking back to the floor.
‘Nice undercarriage,’ Sean said, ‘firm to say the least…’
‘I hate you, you total bastard,’ I said, playfully hitting his arm.
‘But I can bet you’ll miss me the most,’ he said, grinning.
It was the first mention that night. A vivid reminder of all that I was leaving.
‘Can I tell you a secret, James?’ Marlowe said on the terrace, taking an extra-long drag of her cigarette.
He nodded as he exhaled a plume of smoke into the night air.
‘I think I just ended my marriage. Sorry,’ she said, immediately apologising. ‘I just haven’t been able to tell anyone and they’re all so happy in there. I didn’t want to put a dampener on things.’
‘When did you leave him?’ he said, calmly.
‘About two hours ago, in the car, outside. I’ve wanted to for months, but I guess tonight was just a confirmation. It feels good in a weird way.’
‘Can I tell you a secret?’ James said, coyly. ‘I haven’t smoked since I was seventeen. I only suggested coming out here because I needed the chance to get you on your own for a minute.’
‘James—’
‘I know, before you say it,’ he continued, ‘you’re still officially married and obviously that ruled out any ideas I may have had when I first met you, but I have to tell you: I can’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night at the party. I even have a fucking painting with your name on it resting against my desk. Every morning you’re there and every time…’
‘James, I left my husband less than two hours ago and he’s standing the other side of those glass doors.’ Marlowe looked at him. ‘I may not want to be with him anymore but I’m still married, as you said yourself. And besides, I’m not the easiest ride at the fairground. For the past six years I’ve existed only inside a marriage. And now you’re asking for spontaneity? Things like this don’t happen to girls like me.’
‘I just don’t know how he could’ve done that to you… it’s just beyond me.’
Marlowe stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray on the wall. ‘I think we’d better go back inside,’ she said, picking up her bag.
‘Marlowe, wait…’
‘I can’t, James,’ she said. ‘I just can’t do to him what he did to me.’
I could feel my feet throbbing under the bed covers as I tried to recover from a long night of dancing. I lifted them up one at a time in an attempt to relieve the sting from the newly formed blisters on the back of my heels.
‘Charlie,’ I whispered. ‘Are you awake?’
‘No,’ he said, his face nestled into the pillow.
‘You are!’ I said, giving his cheek a slight tap.
He smiled gently but his eyes remain closed.
‘Look. At. Me…’ I said as I pressed my forehead against his.
He took a deep breath as he slowly opened his eyes.
‘Any regrets?’ I said. ‘Before we leave tomorrow?’
‘About you? Never. Not even for a second, not even for a moment…’ I could feel his cold hands stroking the inside of my leg. ‘Not for a day… or a week… or a month…’
‘Or a year…?’ I whispered, kissing his neck…
As I felt the weight of his body wrap around me I knew that this was where the struggle had ended. It had been twelve months of many different nights together, all the different kinds of nights, culminating in the here and the now.
I once thought that true happiness would be fireworks and celebration. I’d grown into thinking it should be shouted loudly from rooftops. But on that particular night, on the eve of a great adventure, I realised that true happiness was quiet, determined and strong. Whether you’ve decided to break free on your own for the first time, or lying, peacefully, next to the person you love.
Chapter Twenty-Five – Rainbows
My mind drifted in and out of sleep, halfway between real life and a faraway land. We were in a hurry, running across the forecourt of the tarmac towards an airplane. I could feel the floor crack beneath my feet as I jumped over the split and skidded, breaking free from the rubble. My legs felt like jelly and were powerless. I could see the tip of the wing. I could see the hordes of people boarding but they couldn’t hear my shouts. They couldn’t seem to hear my screams. Terror shuttled back and forth as the whole place felt just ten degrees out – only half an inch to the left – from exactly how things were supposed to be. I looked down towards my suitcase and noticed my hand: a hairline cut striped across my palm, which bled slightly as I twisted it. I looked up and had finally made it to the steps of the door as the sound of footsteps pounded behind me. My feet skipped up them two, three, four at a time, but the more I ran the steeper they got. How could I
reach the door of the plane if I couldn’t climb high enough? If I couldn’t run.
I woke up with a start as I tried to regain my breath. My eyelids flickered in the morning sun as I felt the roof of my mouth with my tongue. It was dry and heavy, heaving in a gasp for air or water, anything that would ease the stiffness and quench the thirst. Beads of sweat from a disturbed night’s sleep itched my forehead as I stretched my body out in release. My arms lay heavy above my head, my neck still damp from the nightmare. I took in the seconds, one at a time, slowly bringing myself to reality, returning me to the world that I knew.
It was just a dream.
It was just a bad dream.
I lay there watching the sunshine through the curtains casting bright, pale shapes onto the bed covers. I was tired and could smell fried egg coming from the kitchen as Charlie prepared his usual ‘Saturday Sandwich’. Only it wasn’t Saturday and I still had to begin my last day working for the magazine. I pulled off the bed covers with one giant tug and wrapped my towelling dressing gown around me.
‘You’re cutting it fine, aren’t you?’ Charlie said as I walked into the kitchen. ‘Still, who cares if you’re late on your last day, eh?’
I poured myself some coffee – my neck stiff from an active night’s sleep.
‘I had the worst dream,’ I said, rubbing it gently, ‘I’ve woken up feeling exhausted.’
‘Was I in it?’ Charlie said, as he looked over the frying pan at a congealed mass of eggs and bacon.
The ‘Saturday Sandwich’ was an invention that he had created which consisted of all the foods sitting in one’s fridge that could be considered a breakfast item. In an array of dairy products and processed meat, it was usually bacon, egg, cheese and tomato all melted together and toasted between the bookends of a white bun. I had put it in the same culinary category as a Friday night kebab: it had its purpose, and was usually only appetising when either drunk or nursing a hangover.
As I watched him plate up the breakfast in his navy blue dressing gown, the decision that was once a distant concept had finally come to fruition.
‘Are you all packed?’
‘All packed,’ he said, discarding the fat from the bottom of the pan.
‘Don’t tip that down the plughole, Amber will kill you…’ I said, tapping the pedal bin open.
‘I also made you some food to take to work, it’s in a box in the fridge.’
‘It’s not another sandwich, is it?’ I said, prising open the plastic container.
‘No smartarse, it’s actually a salad.’
‘So what are you doing while I’m at work today?’
‘I’m going to send the last of the boxes with the courier and then go past the office to collect our tickets…’
‘What time’s our flight again?’
‘11:30 p.m.’
‘11:30 p.m.,’ I repeated out loud.
‘I just thought it best to get a night flight. I have back to back meetings as soon as we get there and this way, I’ll get a full night’s sleep.’
‘No. That makes sense,’ I said, putting my packed lunch in my bag along with a token gesture of fruit that very rarely seemed to get eaten.
‘So,’ he said, leaning against the cupboard, ‘does it feel a bit strange yet?’
His hair flopped over his face as he quickly ran his hand through to tame it. For a split second he reminded me of the Charlie I first met, exceptionally well groomed but a little straggly in the morning. It was endearing – a sight only reserved for me.
‘Come here…’ I said as I wrapped my arms around him. ‘I could never regret any decision when it comes to you.’
He kissed me on the end of my nose and then again on my mouth.
‘I’ll make you happy, Jess,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
My feet pounded the pavement as I entered the last stretch of the commute, making my way towards the double doors for what would be the final time. As usual, I turned the corner and sprinted towards the lift, holding the doors open with my foot for a man running late behind me.
‘Thank you,’ he said, as he wedged himself in.
I smiled at him and pressed the button for the fourth floor.
I could see that Vin was already at his computer and knocked lightly on the door. An array of crumbs sat on the chest of his black T-shirt, a remainder of his breakfast, but for the first time, a breakfast that I hadn’t been texted to collect for him. It was usually an extra large coffee and pain au chocolat, which I left on his desk each morning at 8.00 a.m.
‘Where did you get the breakfast from?’ I asked. ‘Cheating on me with another assistant?’ I smiled as he brushed the crumbs off, maybe a little embarrassed. ‘Well…’ I said, quietly, ‘I’ll get going then. Is there anything I can get you before I start work? Another coffee? Some toast?’
‘No, I’m grand,’ he said as he turned to his computer. ‘Oh and Jess,’ he added as I turned to go, ‘you know, I haven’t told anyone that you’re leaving. I’m not rushing to fill the position so I thought it would give me some time with head office to mention it only after you’ve gone.’
‘Scared they won’t compare?’ I said, smiling.
‘Yeah, sure, Jess,’ he said with a snort, ‘because it’s really sparse out there finding creatives in London.’
‘Yes, but will they collect your coffee each morning?’ I joked.
‘Just get back to work,’ he said. ‘I want those shots at Emmer Hall finished before you leave.’
‘Righto!’ I said, closing the door behind me.
‘And Jess,’ he said, as I turned back again into his office, ‘if you leave before I’ve had a chance to say bye and stuff, I just want you to know that the offer still stands, if you need any contacts once you’re settled out there, don’t hesitate to give me a bell.’
‘Thank you, Vin,’ I said. ‘I really appreciate it.’
I smiled at him, knowing that this small exchange was as close to a goodbye as I would get. But it was enough. I walked into my refurbished cupboard that I had briefly referred to as my office, sat down at my desk and turned on my computer.
It’s okay to be nervous, I thought to myself, as I made my way through the shots from Emmer Hall. I was eating a banana, slowly munching my way through the morning, a trait which provided a distraction from all the arrangements that were coursing through my mind – mainly logistical, carefully curating a mental list of things that I still was yet to pack.
I looked around at the walls of my office and at the images that I’d stuck against them: a few portraits from Cathy, the few shots I’d taken of Gracie in my first week of work and a picture of a traditional punk that Vin had slyly taken one morning on his way into work on the tube. I pulled them all down and slid them into my bag. I scribbled a note of thanks for Vin, signed off with a small ‘J’. By the time he sees it I’ll be gone, I thought to myself.
By late afternoon, the butterflies in my stomach that I had managed to settle had begun to flutter again. I gathered up the rest of my belongings, leaving a few items of stationery for my successor and turned back at the door to take one final look. The past few months had felt like a dream. A makeshift desk and two rusty filing cabinets represented all that I had worked for, so little in value, but undoubtedly worth so much to me.
I took a deep breath and pulled the door closed behind me. After twelve months of storm clouds, it was finally time for rainbows.
‘Charlie?’ I shouted, as I stepped over three large boxes in his hallway. I dropped my keys on the small table by the door and walked on through into the kitchen. The rooms were completely bare, with the very few things we weren’t shipping, packed neatly to be collected for storage. As I attempted to find a kettle I heard the front door slam behind me.
‘Well, today was a bit of a disaster…’ Charlie shouted, from the hallway.
‘Really?’ I replied, ‘what happened?’
‘Nothing important, had to go back into work, didn’t I, just paperwork stuff, nothing you’d u
nderstand.’
‘You could try me?’ I said, as I heard him turn on the shower.
I walked over to the window and looked down at the people below. It was a sight that I’d seen over a million times before, but only now did I seem to truly appreciate it. As I gazed out across the fairy lights, I struggled to comprehend all that I was leaving. I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t face the memories. I pulled out my phone buzzing loudly in my pocket to read the lit-up message. It was Vin:
Like I said, anything I can do to help. Safe flight. V x
‘So,’ Charlie said, pulling a jumper over his wet hair, ‘what’s for dinner?’
I laughed. ‘You tell me. We’ve got a choice of dry cereal or the remainder of your bread bin.’
‘We’ll get something at the airport.’ He shrugged. ‘I picked up the tickets today; they’re in the black wallet next to my coat.’
I reached over and pulled them towards me. As I flicked through the pile, a jagged corner ripped and sliced through the edge of my finger. ‘Shit,’ I cried, sucking it in frustration.
‘All right,’ Charlie said, ‘sit down. Let me see.’
‘Everything’s just a total mess!’ I said, sharply.
I held out my finger. It throbbed deeply as if it had its own heartbeat. He kissed it.
‘Well, I’m glad we got that tantrum out of the way,’ he said, trying to make a joke.
‘I’ve had a really shitty day, Charlie.’
‘Okay, Jess, I’ll play the game. How was your day?’
‘Awful, actually. I quit a job that I love, that I fought really hard to get and I let Vin down in the process, the one man who believed in me…’
He raised his eyebrows at me.
‘. . . enough to hire me,’ I backpedalled, ‘you know what I mean…’
‘Oh really?’ he said, standing to his feet. ‘The one man who believed in you?’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that… it’s just hard to let go.’
‘Well, quite frankly I preferred it when you worked at that shitty little restaurant. At least you smiled in those days…’
I looked at him. It was if the bubble of my existence had been popped.
Love, and Other Things to Live For Page 27