by Mo Fanning
Sod him. If he’s too up himself with stupid male pride, then it’s down to me. I’m sick of letting life pass me by.
From: Lisa Doyle
To: Brian Hawkins
Subject: Our meeting
What exactly have I done to piss you off? I thought we were friends. I even stupidly thought we might have something going on. Am I such a bad judge of character?
Lisa
I hit send before I lose my nerve and his reply is almost instant. My heart is in my throat as I click to read it.
What the hell have I done?
From: Brian Hawkins
To: Lisa Doyle
Subject: Re: On sale dates
Brian Hawkins is out of the office and has no access to mail. He will return to work on March 12.
If your query is urgent, please ring the main theatre switchboard number.
This makes no sense. We only just spoke and he made no mention of any time off. I ring his extension and Silvia picks up.
‘Hi, it’s Lisa, I need to check one of the on-sale dates with Brian, can you put me through?’
‘I’m afraid Mr. Hawkins has left. He’s taking a week off to deal with some personal business.’
‘He’s gone already?’
‘Can anyone else help?’
‘Did he have his laptop?’
‘I think so, yes. But he did say he wouldn’t be checking email. Anything urgent and I have to phone. Is this urgent?’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ll get the information somewhere else.’
This isn’t like Brian. He organises everything down to the finest detail. Impulse is a perfume, not a way of life. Once when I suggested he meet a few of us for a drink, he wanted to know how many and what we’d be drinking. How long we’d be out and if everyone was going elsewhere after. He as good as asked for a dress code. He breaks into cold sweats at the very idea of spontaneity.
I spend the afternoon drawing circles around words on a press release for an upcoming show. Sharon interrupts me twice, once to see if I want coffee and once to for help with a customer having a vocal fit about her credit card company refusing to authorise last minute tickets. By six, I’m more than ready to escape and beg her to come to the bar.
‘I’ll be glad when Andy gets back, I don’t think my liver can keep up,’ she says. ‘I need to call Rob and make sure he’s OK to feed Bethany.’
Over a couple of stiff drinks, I spill my worries. I tell her about when we had dinner and how Brian has taken to acting like that evening never happened.
‘Ouch,’ she says when I mention the bit about shaking hands instead of kissing goodnight. ‘And he hasn’t spoken to you since?’
‘Of course he’s spoken to me, but only when he’s had to. Like today, he was perfectly civil and polite, but we were like two strangers. It was weird. There was this solicitor’s letter on his desk and he said it was something to do with Audrey. Then all of a sudden, he takes time off. He never mentioned it to anyone. The first I get to hear is an out of office message.’
‘He doesn’t have to tell you his every move.’
‘How does he think it makes me feel?’
‘Good question,’ Sharon says. ‘So how do you feel?’
‘Like I’ve lost a good mate.’
‘A good mate?’
‘Yes, what’s up with that?’
‘If a good mate chucks their toys out of the pram and starts behaving like a prat, you tell them. You don’t drag another friend down the pub and pump them for an opinion. What you’re doing is the sort of thing a girl does when she’s in love.’
‘He’s my boss,’ I say too quickly.
‘What exactly would be so wrong if you did fancy him? He’s a good looking bloke, you’re about the same age.’
‘You didn’t see how he was today.’
‘Maybe he’s the one who feels pushed out. Has it ever crossed your mind, he might be finding this as difficult to deal with? He’s been married to the same woman for years and he’s out of the dating game. If you like him, why don’t you go for it?’
‘It isn’t that simple.’
I haven’t darted mention the email. I’ve left messages with IT support to find out about recalling it.
‘It really is that simple,’ Sharon says.’Don’t you think you deserve to be happy?’
Her words hang in the air and I want to argue and tell her she’s wrong, but she isn’t.
‘Do you want another drink?’ I say. I need to get away from her before tears surface.
‘OK, but you know I’m right.’
‘Whatever.’
I order three large vodkas and knock one back at the bar. Back at our table, there’s a coat on my chair.
‘Whose is this?’ I say and someone puts their hands over my eyes. I recognise the aftershave at once.
‘Andy!’
He gathers me in his arms and stumbles theatrically.
‘You’ve put on a few pounds,’ he says and I step back to take him in. He’s let his hair grow but that smile is a tonic.
‘What’s with the sideburns?’ I say.
‘They’re all the rage in Bratislava.’
I all but run to the bar to get him a drink and when I sit back down, all talk of Brian is forgotten as Sharon and I pump Andy for stories of the movie shoot.
‘I hated every single minute of it,’ he admits. ‘If I could have walked home, you’d have seen me sooner. I flirted with a British Airways steward and got bucket seats on an early flight.’
All at once I’m happy. Not only is my best friend back, but I’ve managed to turn the spotlight off any talk of my stunted love life.
A miserable Monday looks set to turn into a great night.
Then as if fate had been sitting there watching. And trying to pick the worst thing that could happen. The one person who I didn’t want to see.
Just as I’d sorted out my head and worked out what mattered.
In he walked.
Brian.
Twenty five
Brian heads for the bar, shrugs off his coat and drops it on a stool. While waiting to get served, he looks around and I half hope he’ll ignore us. No such luck.
Andy nudges me. ‘Free drinks all round,’ he says and despite my transmitting warning signals so obvious they could be picked up by passing spy satellites, calls Brian over.
‘Maybe he wants to be on his own,’ I say.
‘Fuck that for a game of soldiers. First rule of business, Lisa Doyle, is you always hang out with people who have company credit cards. They know how to fiddle the expenses.’
Brian pulls over a chair.
‘You don’t mind me joining you, do you?’ he says and I’m forced to smile. In fact I laugh. It comes out like a strangled yelp and people at the bar look over.
‘Hiccups,’ I say. ‘I’m a martyr to them.’
‘Well I’m a martyr to thirst,’ Andy says. ‘It’s your round Brian.’
He reaches into his bag for money and I see his laptop.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve read your emails?’ I say and he shakes his head.
‘Officially off duty.’
‘But you’ve got your machine with you.’
‘Force of habit. I plan to leave it gathering dust for the next week. The trouble with reading emails when you’re off work is you start answering them and before you know it, you’re back at work.’
‘So you’ve not read any emails since we met?’
‘No.’
‘None at all?’
Andy interrupts. ‘Some of us are dying of thirst,’ he says. ‘Stop badgering the bloke.’
‘The thing is,’ I say. ‘I’ve just remembered I forgot to cancel an appointment tonig
ht and I can only do it online. I don’t suppose I could be cheeky and log on to your laptop to do it, could I?’
‘An appointment for what?’ Sharon says.
‘Carpet cleaning,’ is the first thing that comes to mind.
‘We don’t have carpets,’ Andy says. ‘It’s all laminate.’
‘I had one put down while you were away.’
‘And it needs cleaning already.’
‘I spilled a jar of beetroot.’
‘Beetroot?’ Sharon looks horrified. ‘You’ll never get that out. Waste of time trying. Claim on insurance.’
‘Yes, Great idea. That’s what I thought. So I need to cancel the carpet cleaners.’
Brian pulls his laptop out and switches it on.
‘Happy to help,’ he says.
I wait until he’s at the bar before discretely launching email.
‘What are you up to,’ Andy says. ‘Something’s going on.’
‘Let’s just say someone sent an email to someone else and she’d rather he didn’t see it.’
The screen is flashing a security prompt.
‘Shit, any idea what he might have used as a password?’ I say.
‘Audrey?’ Andy suggests. ‘Frump?’
I try both. And Brian123, and theatre. I even type in ilovelisa. Every try is rejected.
‘He’s coming back,’ Andy says. I slam the lip down.
‘All sorted?’ Brian says and I nod.
He switches it off.
‘That’s that for the next seven days.’
I get up and persuade Sharon to come with me to the bathroom.
‘Do you think I could get the IT department to delete the email?’ I say when we’re safely out of earshot.
‘They won’t.’
‘I could cry and promise to buy them coffee for a month.’
‘No chance.’
‘What am I going to do?’
‘What was in the email anyway?’
I tell her and her face erupts.
‘That’s brilliant,’ she says. ‘At last you’ve done something about it. I can’t wait to see what happens next.’
‘Nothing will happen next,’ I say. ‘I have to find some way to delete that email.’
‘Why don’t you for once let fate take its course,’ Sharon says and starts washing her hands. ‘You might actually be happy.’
Back at the table, glasses are already almost empty. Andy gets up.
‘Give us a hand at the bar Lisa,’ he says and I follow.
Sharon is alone with Brian and much as I try to avoid looking over, but curiosity gets the better of me. They’re laughing and joking. Surely not about me.
‘I’d never realised what a good laugh Brian could be,’ Andy says.
‘Oh yes, he can be an absolute riot.’ I try to sound sincere, but the words come out all misshapen and nasty.
He clasps a hand to his mouth and his eyes grow wide.
‘You’ve slept with him and it’s all gone wrong hasn’t it?’ Andy says. ‘Bloody hell Lisa, I’ve only been gone a few weeks and you’re shagging the boss. Mind you, who can blame you? He’s filled out while I’ve been away. Somebody has spent time at the gym. I brushed against his arm, those biceps are rock hard.’
‘Keep your voice down.’ I say. ‘I haven’t slept with him. We’ve been out for dinner and it all went a bit weird.’
‘Oh this is too good. I need details.’
I give him the short version, enough to engender silence, but not so much that he can wind me up all evening.
‘Right, leave it with me,’ Andy says and takes the drinks over.
Andy lifts his glass in a toast. ‘Bottoms up,’ he says and then sets his face into a frown. ‘That might as well have been the title of the soft core porno I’ve just appeared in.’
Brian finds a scratch on the table fascinating.
‘But enough about me,’ Andy continues. ‘What’s been going on here while I’ve been gone?’
‘Nothing much, same old, same old,’ I say and shoot him a warning look.
‘Bryn off the counter is seeing Jason from Front of House,’ Sharon says.
‘Fantabulosa,’ Andy cries. ‘He’s finally poked a toe out of the closet. I’m so proud of him, we snogged at my leaving do. That boy has the most lovely soft lips.’
‘Which one is he?’ Brian says. ‘Is he the one with blonde hair and spots?
‘That’s Gary. Bryn is the one with dark hair, goofy teeth. Looks like Bugs Bunny with a centre parting.’ Sharon says helpfully.
Brian nods, though clearly has no clue who they mean.
‘And what about you, young lady?’ Andy turns the spotlight onto me. ‘What have you been up to while my back’s been turned?’
‘Working nine to five,’ I mug. ‘Dolly Parton’s got nothing on me.’
‘I think you’ll find she’s got two things on you,’ he says with a sniff.
Both Brian and Sharon focus on my chest.
‘Actually, I’ve been getting ready for Helen’s wedding,’ I say to change the subject.
‘About that,’ Andy says. ‘I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to let you down. They need me to go into the studios on Saturday to do over dubs.’
‘I thought you didn’t have any lines.’
‘Whoever told you that?’
I want to point out he did. Repeatedly, during late night international telephone whine-fests, but something stops me.
‘But you have to come,’ I say. ‘Everyone is expecting you.’
‘Who exactly is expecting me? I thought you’d come out as an unmarried fantasist to everyone last month.’
Brian looks confused and I probably ought to fill him in, but it’s too long a story and besides, when Andy and I bicker, nobody else exists.
‘The invite is for me plus one. Everyone else is going to have a plus one and you promised to be mine. What does it say about me if I can’t even manage to bring a friend?’
‘I could come,’ Sharon suggests. ‘We could bring Bethany. A few days away would be lovely.’
‘If Lisa is away, don’t you have to take over the running of the box office?’ Andy says.
‘I suppose so.’ Sharon looks disappointed.
‘I don’t know, what a pickle,’ he says. ‘Where else are you going to find someone at such short notice? A friend who’d be happy to help out. Someone who isn’t busy at the weekend.’
‘I’m not doing anything,’ Brian says and Andy says and kicks my ankle under the table.
‘So you’re free this weekend?’
‘I’m sure Brian has loads to do.’ I say, anxious to avoid one more awkward situation.
‘It so happens, I’m at a loose end. So I guess if you’re desperate ...’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t ...’
‘It’s no trouble. Actually you’d be doing me a favour. Just for once, I’d like to not wake up in a Travel Lodge and have to shower with a miniature bar of soap. We can take my car. It could do with a run out.’
I don’t get how Brian can switch our friendship on and off. A few hours ago, we were distant strangers. Now he wants to drive me to a friend’s wedding and make small talk with strangers.
‘Right, that’s you two sorted,’ Andy says. ‘Now who’s for another round?’
Brian offers to give him a hand and off they go, leaving Sharon to grin at me.
‘What?’ I snap.
‘It’s nice having him back in town, isn’t it?’
‘Who?’
‘Cupid.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Andy more or less forced Brian to help me out. It means nothing. I’ll take my iPod to listen to on the journey down.’
/> ‘Brian and Lisa, sitting in the tree, k i s s i n g.’
Somehow I force out a smile as our drinks arrive.
‘Right, I’ve checked he knows what he’s letting himself in for,’ Andy says. ‘I mentioned your disgusting wind and the fact you insist on chewing your nails whenever you’re on a long car journey, but he’s still prepared to take the gig. You’ve got your plus one.’
‘I can pick you up at your place if you like,’ Brian says. ‘Would ten-thirty be too early?’
I nod my agreement.
Twenty six
Despite tossing and turning the night away before driving to Birmingham with Brian, the road trip ends up being fun. Conversation starts out stilted, but as time wears on, we talk more. When traffic grinds to a halt outside Stoke-on-Trent, Brian jabs his finger at a CD player and fills the car with the greatest hits of Céline Dion.
‘Audrey loves her,’ he says and his face turns purple. ‘I can’t stand her.’
I don’t know whether to laugh or stay quiet. The decision is made when we catch each other’s eye and crack up.
Somehow, it’s the cue to relax into easy conversation. Now and then I close my eyes and pretend to sleep, rather than leave any gap big enough to allow any mention of what happened three weeks earlier.
As we pull off the motorway, I yawn and stretch.
‘You’ll have to direct me from here,’ Brian says and I decide to take the pretty route, down winding country lanes.
‘This is lovely,’ he says. ‘Whatever made you decide to move to Manchester?’
‘Wait until you meet my family, you’ll have your answer.’
‘If they’re anything like you, we’ll get on great.’