The Rom-Com Collection: The Plus One, Something for the Weekend, A Marriage of Connivance

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The Rom-Com Collection: The Plus One, Something for the Weekend, A Marriage of Connivance Page 23

by Natasha West


  ‘Hey, where do you think you’re going?’ Chloe demanded.

  ‘I’ll talk to you later. I can’t deal with this right now.’

  ‘Because you’re losing?’

  ‘Because you…’ Jess couldn’t quite find a retort. ‘Because, because-’ she sputtered.

  It was satisfying to watch Jess stutter like this. Chloe was always the one on her back foot. But she’d let Jess have it and she was winning for a change.

  Later, she’d realise that in that moment, she’d forgotten that she hadn’t been trying to win. She had wanted to sort out a problem with her friend. But that had gotten lost, eaten by all the anger that had built up between them in those few awful minutes.

  Finally, Jess said ‘You know what? Fuck this.’

  ‘Oh, very eloquent. Is that what they teach in PE, throw a tantrum when things don’t go your way?!’

  Jess’s eyes went wide with astonishment. A plethora of possible retorts came to her mind. Jess knew she could really hit Chloe, even harder than she already had.

  But she was done. She walked out.

  Chloe was left staring at the air where she’d been. The feeling of victory was sweet for a couple of seconds. She’d gotten the last word, after all. But it soon faded. Because it had been a pyrrhic victory. ‘The last word’ had just cost her a friend.

  Jess went straight home, where Claire was waiting with some of the heated up leftovers from the previous night’s abandoned dinner. She’d been hoping that Jess had spoken to Chloe today, that the air had been thoroughly filtrated so they could have a nice evening without more misdirected anger.

  But seeing Jess’s face when she walked through the door popped that bubble pretty quickly.

  ‘Christ, who died?’

  Jess slumped in an armchair, throwing her bag in the corner.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  Claire walked over and sat on the arm of the chair.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yep. I feel like I’ve said enough today.’

  Claire slipped gently from the arm onto Jess’s lap. Jess didn’t seem to mind so she leaned into her neck. Jess’s hand found Claire’s and squeezed it.

  ‘I don’t think me and Chloe are friends anymore.’

  Claire sighed deeply.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  Jess’s arms slid around Claire’s waist and she held onto her tightly. At least she had this, she thought. And what did Chloe have? There was no chance someone like Freya was a comfort in times like this.

  Back at the hotel room, Freya walked into the room, laden with shopping bags, to see Chloe sitting on the edge of the bed, biting her nails nervously.

  ‘Oh God. What’s happened now?’ she said with a roll of her eyes.

  Chloe looked over at her girlfriend, already bored with her before she’d even begun to speak, and she wondered if Jess had a point about Freya. But that wasn’t a thought she could give much credence to right now. It was very important to think that Jess was wrong about everything. If she was, then it was OK. She’d simply realised that they didn’t work as friends because Jess was arrogant and patronising and an arsehole.

  If it was wrong, she’d just fucked up a friendship for the dumbest of reasons. Pride.

  But she was down one relationship today. There was no way she was going to give any weight to the doubts that Jess had tried to plant in her mind. She would prove her wrong instead, by giving Freya a real chance to help, something she’d never really tried before.

  ‘I’ve just had a massive row with Jess.’

  ‘Again?!’ Freya cried incredulously.

  ‘Yeah. It just sort of snowballed. One minute it was the strike, then it was other stuff…’ she tailed off. She wasn’t going to mention the ‘bitch’ comment. Nor did she want to go into the fact she called poor Claire boring. It wasn’t that Chloe didn’t think she was indeed dull as toast, it was that she’d had no right to say it. Jess obviously loved her so what did it matter if Chloe found her boring? Claire hadn’t really deserved that. She’d been collateral damage.

  Jess had started it though, Chloe remembered. But Chloe knew, she’d been the one to finish it, with her vicious dig about Jess’s occupation. She shouldn’t have let things get that far. But she’d been high on her own rage. There had been a minute when it had just felt so damn good to shout at Jess.

  But doubts were creeping in now. Maybe she should call Jess and…

  ‘Fuck Jess’ Freya said angrily.

  It cut Chloe’s remorseful thoughts right off at the knees.

  ‘If she doesn’t see what a dick she was being, you’re better off without her! I mean, who the fuck needs friends like that? She didn’t care what you went through when you were a kid. It was all about her and her soapbox. You lived that shit!’ Freya ranted angrily.

  Chloe nodded gratefully.

  ‘Yeah, I did! She never even mentioned that today.’

  ‘I bet she didn’t. Because it didn’t fit in with her argument. No, everything you said was right on the money.’

  Chloe was amazed. She’d never seen Freya get this angry on her behalf before. For the first time ever, she really felt like Freya was in her corner. Somehow ‘Fuck Jess’ was the most romantic thing that Freya had ever said to her.

  Chloe stood and walked over to Freya, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Thanks’ Chloe said.

  Freya liked the surprising kiss but she had no idea where it had come from.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being on my side.’

  Freya shrugged.

  ‘Where else would I be?’ she asked with a bemused smile.

  Yeah, maybe she’s a bitch, Chloe thought. But she’s my bitch, she realised lovingly.

  Year Eight

  July 2013 - The Imperial Hotel (Birmingham)

  The name of the Imperial Hotel had, over time, become a tongue-in-cheek joke. It had seen better days, that was clear. The red drapes looked as though they’d once been plush, but now were threadbare. The wooden oak floors were warped from too many years of sharp heels trampling over them. And the staff looked like they were simply waiting till the place fell down around their ears. Until then, they would continue to turn over rooms, serve underdone breakfasts and argue with customers over their bills.

  But the place was cheap and big. And it had been able to accommodate the conference at the last minute after the hotel that had originally been booked had a health violation which had shut it down for a few solid weeks, clashing with the Teachers’ Union conference it had been set to host. So now the conference was stuck at a truly terrible hotel, an armpit of a place that you wouldn’t send your worst relatives to for an out of town wedding.

  But nonetheless, they all rolled in, teachers from all over the country, here for their annual obligation.

  Jess and Chloe were, as usual, among them.

  Jess arrived first. She didn’t look happy to be there. Not that she was ever ecstatic, but this whole thing was coming at a bad time for Jess. She had a lot going on. And then there was the whole Chloe mess. Jess had thought about Chloe a lot over the past year, wondering how she was doing, if she was happy, if she ever thought about her and the stupid row they’d had, how she felt about it now. She had nothing but questions because they hadn’t been in contact since the incident. So all Jess could do was imagine the answers.

  She’d thought about texting her, even typed it out a few times. But she’d never quite found the confidence to hit send. And now here they were, at the conference, yet again. Soon enough, they’d be eyeball to eyeball. Jess wasn’t sure what she’d say when it happened, but she prayed for something brilliant and charming.

  Jess thought that once she’d delivered her devastating opening line, maybe she should try and patch it up with her, starting with an abject apology. And if Chloe returned it, felt as bad as she did, it might be alright between them. But Jess really didn’t know if that would happen. It was probably way too late.

>   All in all, this weekend was going to suck just a little more than usual.

  Chloe had thought that she’d dread this weekend too, but on the train up, she’d felt a strange elation. She found she was relishing the chance to talk to Jess again. But it wasn’t to mend fences.

  Chloe had had a year to consider what had happened, running back and forth over those two and a half arguments (she was counting the coffee shop as the half), over and over again, turning it this way and that, trying to figure out what had happened and who should shoulder the lion’s share of blame for it.

  There was no doubt in her mind that there had been no hero in the situation. Chloe knew she’d played her part. She’d been inexperienced at being an out and out arsehole but she’d made a good job of it, she thought. Certainly worthy of a B+ for effort.

  But Jess? Jess was a veteran, way above Chloe’s paygrade at acting like a prick. Which was why she’d been the one to start the whole thing in the first place. Natural dick-ishness. That was something Chloe had clung to over the year, that Jess had incited the whole stupid mess with her big Northern mouth. Then there was the other thing, the cherry on top of the shit sundae. Jess had called Freya a bitch.

  That was what really stuck in Chloe’s craw. That particular insult had been a low blow. Jess had no right, after knowing Freya for less than an hour, to slap that title on her. Sure, Chloe had returned fire with her dig at Claire; she’d cop to that. But Jess’s remark had been the turning point, Chloe had come to believe. Jess, newly and smugly married, taking pot shots at one of the few things Chloe had going for her. Even if it was true, it hadn’t been right.

  And especially now that Chloe had gotten engaged to Freya. They were getting married in September. And she really wanted to rub that fact in Jess’s face.

  With this new title, fiancée, Freya had become something more than a girlfriend. The engagement proved it. They were for real and Jess had tried to topple them. So now, in order to make it clear that Jess was the villain here, Chloe was going to make sure she knew what she’d done, that she’d insulted the person who was going to become her wife. Now that they were engaged, Jess’s crime was infinitely worse.

  She pictured how she’d do it. They’d meet, maybe they’d make some kind of amends and then Chloe would say, uber casually, ‘I’m so glad we’re friends again. Now you can come to the wedding. Oh, didn’t I mention? I’m marrying Freya in a few months.’

  And then she’d watch Jess’s face fall in shock. Quickly followed by some fake congratulations while Jess seethed inside, knowing she was bang in the wrong.

  Chloe couldn’t wait.

  So she loitered in reception to wait for Jess’s arrival, in an old chair that creaked dangerously beneath her, next to a plant that seemed in serious need of some pruning. She kept batting the leaves away but somehow they kept finding their way back to her neck, tickling at her skin.

  Jess wandered through the reception area, taking in its depressing shabby décor. Then she spotted Chloe in the corner, apparently fighting with a potted plant.

  She considered whether to go over and say hello. On balance, it was not an appealing thought. But an acknowledgment was inevitable. Better to get it over with.

  ‘What did that Ficus ever do to you?’

  Chloe turned surprised. She was inwardly livid. Jess had gotten the jump on her yet again. She’d been planning to be so cool and poised. And look at what she was doing the second Jess walked in. Acting like a crazy person. Bloody typical.

  Chloe stood quickly and smoothed down her skirt.

  ‘Hello’ she said neutrally.

  ‘Hi’ Jess said breathily, managing to imbue the single syllable with heavy meaning.

  They stood for a second in silence. It felt right for both of them. A moment’s silence for a dead friendship.

  ‘So…’ began Jess. ‘How’ve you been.’

  ‘Engaged’ blurted Chloe. She took a deep breath and tried again. ‘I’m engaged now.’

  One of Jess’s eyebrows raised by a fraction of an inch.

  ‘To, err…’ she trailed off, Freya’s name on the tip of her tongue.

  ‘To Freya, yes.’

  Jess nodded in approbation.

  ‘Congratulations’ she said with a small smile.

  ‘Thanks’ Chloe replied uncertainly. And when there appeared to be no further comment on it, she said ‘How are you?’

  ‘Busy, you know’ Jess said with a shrug.

  ‘Of course, yeah.’

  It was all beginning to feel a little depressing. This wasn’t at all the triumph Chloe had been hoping for. She couldn’t take anymore.

  ‘I need to get to my room. The train journey up was a bit packed’ she burbled ‘and I think I’ve got other people’s sweat on me so I’d better have a shower’ she said and turned even before Jess could finish the word ‘OK.’

  Chloe walked up to the lift feeling awful. That hadn’t gone to plan at all.

  Jess watched her go, wondering why she hadn’t been able to say she was sorry.

  A crowd of teachers were sat in the pub next to the hotel, not wanting to spend any more time in the Imperial than they strictly had to. It was the same faces Jess saw every conference, with very few roster changes. As Jess watched all the little squabbles and flirtations she saw every single year, she realised sadly she was simply one of those faces now too.

  She noticed Chloe at the other end of the bar, talking to someone who looked vaguely familiar. She was a tall, haughty type. Jess realised with a small jolt that she’d almost had sex with her at her first year at the conference. ‘Emma’, she thought her name was. Emma hadn’t been to the conference since that first year so it was quite a shock to see her. And the fact she was talking to Chloe heightened the weirdness. What on earth did they have to talk to each other about?

  Jess had the horrible thought that they were discussing Jess herself, talking about what a cow she was. After all, Chloe had managed to find the one person here who might also have a gripe with her.

  Which was precisely what Chloe wanted her to think. Their earlier meeting had gone completely off-piste. So she was forced to improvise a plan B. And when she’d spotted Emma in the bar, sitting alone, it all came together. She knew this would annoy the crap out of Jess.

  There was a small voice inside Chloe that was crying out ‘What are you doing? You’re almost thirty and you’re behaving like a stupid teenager with a grudge. She was your friend. Just swallow your pride and make it up with her!’

  But Chloe couldn’t help herself. She had this horrible desire to hurt Jess and she couldn’t shake it off. It was making a petty monster out of her and she knew it. She hated herself for that.

  And yet, when she glimpsed Jess watching her talking to Emma whilst biting her lip nervously, she felt a tiny thrill.

  Emma, who was still the self-important fool she’d been eight years ago, didn’t see any of that.

  ‘Yeah, so, people are always like, amazed when I tell them I’m an atheist. But that’s the thing about teaching religious education. It’s like any academic subject when you get down to it. It’s anthropological, historical….’

  Chloe nodded robotically as Emma droned on.

  Jess, watching from her corner, heard a beep from her pocket. It was a text from Claire.

  ‘When you get back, I think we need a serious talk about what we’re going to do.’

  Great, thought Jess. Now I can really look forward to getting home.

  Chloe, still listening to Emma’s lengthy monologue, flicked a glance at Jess to see if she was still looking. But she wasn’t. She was staring at her phone, misery etched deep on her usually placid features. Chloe noticed for the first time that a new line had appeared in Jess’s forehead, a mark of age certainly, but an indication of something else too, something sad.

  For the first time, Chloe stopped thinking about her own resentment and began to wonder how Jess was doing.

  Jess was in the pub toilet a few hours later, throwing
up. She was drunk.

  She’d latched onto a group of teachers that she hated but with whom she found it easy to engage with because she could argue with them all night about politics. It wasn’t exactly a pleasurable way to spend the night but it was better than thinking about other things. And the booze she’d been pouring down her neck made the whole thing easier.

  But now she was paying the price.

  ‘Vodka’ she mumbled to herself after a particularly spectacular heave. ‘You don’t buy it, you only rent it’ she finished and giggled hysterically. Then another wave of vomit rose in her throat and she leaned back over the bowl.

 

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