The French House
Page 34
LOVE IS THE DRUG
It’s dark by the time we get to the house. The music is deafening and I’m surprised that the little speakers our aged DJ set up this morning can produce such a din.
When I push open the lounge door, however, surprise doesn’t cover it. My jaw drops.
About twenty people, ten from the original crowd, supplemented with a new group of people my age or younger, are dancing frantically to Kylie’s ‘Can’t Get You Out Of My Head’.
Mark spots me immediately and comes over to join us.
‘What on earth happened here?’ I laugh.
‘I got Iain to come over with some mates,’ Mark says. ‘It was your mum’s idea, actually.’
‘Are those your speakers?’ I ask.
‘Yes. They brought the whole lot. Simone is DJ’ing on her iPad. She’s fab.’
‘Sounds great,’ Victor comments.
‘Good to see you, man,’ Mark says, turning to face him, and then hugging him tightly. ‘So are you dancin’?’ Mark asks, the hug over.
‘In a mo,’ Victor says. ‘I need to get something to eat first. I’m starving.’
The buffet has vanished, so we head through to the kitchen where we find Mum, Saddam and a grey-haired man whose name I can’t remember deep in conversation about, of all things, the pros and cons of wind-farms.
‘Victor!’ Mum exclaims, breaking free to hug him with unusual intensity. ‘I’m so glad you could make it. I’ve been dying to meet you.’
‘Hello,’ Victor says shyly.
‘Is there anything left to eat, Mum?’ I ask. ‘Because poor Victor here is starving.’
‘Of course,’ she says, releasing him. ‘Will a sandwich do? Cheese? Or ham?’
‘Anything,’ Victor says. ‘Truly anything.’
I try to help Mum as she drunkenly attempts to make Victor’s sandwich, but she snappily pushes me away. Eventually, despite pausing annoyingly every time she speaks, she does manage to assemble a doorstop of a sandwich. She hands this to Victor on a plate, turns to Saddam, and says, ‘Come on, let’s go join the fun.’
‘Do you think you’ll be like that?’ Victor asks, once they have gone.
‘Like Mum?’
‘Yes,’ he says, through a mouthful of bread.
‘I don’t know,’ I laugh. ‘Probably. Would that be a bad thing?’
‘Not as long as I can keep up,’ he says.
Iain comes into the kitchen and asks for water. I point him, rather obviously, at the tap, and he thanks me, crosses the room, and then performs a double-take and looks back at me. ‘Ah, you!’ he says. His Scottish you sounds like yee.
‘Yes, me,’ I say flatly, a little nervous as to how this is going to unfold.
‘I need to talk to you,’ he says. ‘I owe you an apology.’
‘No you don’t,’ I say, trying to disguise my relief. ‘It’s all . . .’ I wave vaguely over my shoulder to indicate that it’s all in the past.
‘So we’re OK?’ he asks, filling a glass from the tap.
‘Yes, we’re definitely OK,’ I say. ‘And thanks for bringing all those people. It makes it much more of a party.’
‘It’s my birthday,’ he says. ‘Well, it’s tomorrow, really. But we were all meeting today for lunch to celebrate and then Mark called. This is much more fun.’
‘Well, you made Mum’s day,’ I say. ‘Mine too.’
‘I’ve got some E if you want it,’ he says.
‘God, you’re terrible, you two,’ I say.
Iain grins and does his best to look sheepish. ‘Is that a no, then?’ he asks.
‘I can’t anyway,’ I explain. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Oh, of course,’ he says. ‘And you, Victor?’
Victor grins and shakes his head. ‘No thanks. Not today.’
‘Solidarity with the missus, eh?’ he says.
‘Something like that,’ Victor laughs.
The music changes to Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’.
‘Ooh, I have to go,’ Iain says. ‘Gotta dance. Are you coming?’
I look at Victor enquiringly.
‘I’ll just eat this and I’ll be through,’ he says.
In the lounge, everyone is dancing, whooping, dipping and diving to Donna Summer. Someone has turned the lights out, and the party is lit by the single row of flashing disco lights brought by the original DJ, who is, I now notice, sitting in a corner talking to Poppy.
All of Iain’s friends are dancing like madmen, but even Giles and my mother are grooving in a disturbingly modern fashion.
A guy – wearing what can only be described as a pair of hot pants – is being swung around by a black girl with three-foot hair extensions, and when she eventually lets go, he careens off across the room and falls, rather splendidly, onto Poppy’s lap. She looks frankly outraged by this invasion of her personal space.
As the song changes to Faithless’s ‘Insomnia’, Mark breaks free and dances to my side. ‘It’s a great party, isn’t it?’ he shouts, turning and leaning against the wall beside me.
‘It is. I never thought you’d get the oldies dancing to Faithless.’
‘They’re all E’d up,’ Mark says. ‘They’ll dance to anything.’
‘They’re not!’ I exclaim.
Mark laughs. ‘It’s nothing to do with me. It’s Iain. Your mum told me she hasn’t felt so good since she was twenty.’
‘God, I hope she’s OK. She’s old, Mark. She might have a heart attack.’
‘She looks OK to me,’ Mark says.
Iain sees us talking and comes to join us. He turns around and leans back against Mark, who wraps his arms around his shoulders and squeezes him tight.
‘CC is worried your E might give her mum a heart attack,’ Mark says.
‘But I didnee give her any,’ Iain replies.
‘She looks like you did,’ Mark says.
And he’s right. Mum is right now shimmying against Saddam’s back.
‘Ney, they’re just E’d up on love.’
‘Well, thank God for that!’ I say.
‘He took a quarter though,’ Iain says, nodding at Giles, who has his eyes closed and is dancing, for the first time in his entire life, in time with the music.
‘Giles is on E?!’ I exclaim.
‘Aye,’ Iain laughs.
‘God, Iain!’ I protest.
‘Look at him,’ Iain says. ‘He’s having the time of his life.’
I look at Giles and snort. No one could deny that that is true.
‘And are you having a good birthday?’ Mark asks him.
‘Perfect,’ Iain says.
Victor reappears from the kitchen, still brushing crumbs from his lips. He stares a little wide-eyed at the dancers and then slides behind me so that he’s holding me in exactly the same way that Mark is holding Iain.
‘This is a bit mad, isn’t it?’ Victor says.
‘Apparently everyone’s on E,’ I say. ‘Well, half of them, anyway.’
‘I thought they might be,’ he says. ‘Looks like they’re enjoying themselves. This is a party they’ll never forget.’
‘It is,’ I say.
‘When you see what fun a wedding can be, well, it almost makes you want to have one yourself,’ he says.
I twist my neck so that I can look up at him. ‘Stop it, you!’ I joke.
‘Hey, I’m just sayin’,’ he says, and gives me a little squeeze.
A sumptuous mix of Hercules and Love Affair’s ‘Blind’ comes on and I start to groove my hips against Victor’s groin. ‘I love this one,’ I say.
Mark and Iain return to the dance floor and I watch them for a moment and think how good they look together, and what a wonderful dancer Iain is, and how much I love Mark, and how chuffed I am that they’re happy together. And then I look at my mother grooving with Saddam and think the same things all over again.
Victor slides his hands down around my waist and pulls me tight, and that feeling of being so happy that it hurts returns. I glance ove
r and see Poppy is still talking to the DJ. Even she has her arm around his back now.
And I think that there’s so much love in this room right now that I feel like I’ve taken ecstasy. If Victor were to ask me to marry him right now, I don’t think I could say no. In fact, I almost wish that he would ask.
Instead, he nuzzles my neck and says, ‘So?’ and I assume that he means that we should dance too. ‘Shall we join them?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ I say, ‘Let’s do it.’
He pulls me in and squeezes me so tight that I can hardly breathe.
‘I knew you’d cave in in the end,’ he says. ‘I knew when I woke up this morning that today was the day you’d say yes!
Table of Contents
Author biography
Title page
Copyright page
Acknowledgements
Contents
THE BIG SKY
NOT A HOT TORRENT
THE GREAT CONTRACEPTION DEBATE
MEETING TATIE
TOURIST HEAVEN
DIVINE INTERVENTION
SNUGGLING
SEPARATE NIGHTS OUT
FAST TRACK
COLD AND GREY, BUT IN LOVE
BIOLOGICAL TIME BOMB
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
FAST TRACK TO SIBERIA
ANGELS VS. DOCTORS
TOO MANY GHOSTS
HOME ALONE
THE RIGHT SET OF EARS
FIVE LITTLE DEATHS
SOMEONE JUST NEEDS TO STOP ME
FOR EACH THOUGHT, AN EMOTION
OTHER PEOPLE’S BUSINESS
ROUND ONE
ROUND TWO
ROUND THREE
WHAT YOU DID TO ME
LIKE MOTHER, LIKE DAUGHTER
JE L’AIME
A LITTLE TOO RELAXED
LOVE IS THE DRUG