by Jemma Forte
‘My trip has nothing to do with you getting married. Honestly. Though what I will say is that I think we want different things from life these days.’
To this Dulcie said nothing, and Jessica felt like screaming with frustration.
‘What? I swear to you I am not jealous,’ she said, spelling it out.
‘Oh, I’m still focusing on the “what we both want out of life” comment,’ Dulcie said, ‘which is interesting because ever since you screwed up our one chance to be something by turning down Daddy’s Girls I’ve been waiting to find out what better idea you might have. But if running off to England and abandoning me right when I need you the most is it then, frankly, I’m a little disappointed. I mean, you’re supposed to be my best friend but ever since I told you I was engaged you’ve been acting weird.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Jessica.
‘Is so,’ retorted Dulcie. ‘You obviously have something against Kevin and I just wish you’d admit it.’
‘I don’t have anything against Kevin,’ replied Jessica truthfully. ‘But maybe I don’t get why you feel the need to get married so young. You’ve only known him a year, so how do you know you’re doing the right thing?’
‘Because I love him!’ screamed Dulcie, somewhat hysterically.
‘Oh, well, that’s OK then,’ said Jessica, who was starting to feel scared she might say something that would be hard to take back. She swallowed. ‘Look, all I’m saying is why the rush? Is being in love really enough? Look at my parents, for crissakes. Everyone seems to be of the opinion that they were madly in love and look how shitty that turned out.’
‘That’s what it always comes back to with you, isn’t it?’ stated Dulcie, sounding disappointed and fed up. ‘Don’t you understand? Of course nothing is guaranteed one hundred per cent. No one knows how anything is going to pan out. Kevin could turn round and tell me he’s gay. I could get run over tomorrow. Or we could get married and be very, very happy, but how will we know unless we take a chance?’
‘It’s not just that,’ said Jessica. ‘You’ve changed, Dulcie. You’ve gotten so obsessed with the wedding you seem to have completely missed the part about how unhappy I’ve been. And that’s the reason I’m in London, only you’ve been too wrapped up in freaking napkins and tie pins to notice.’ Jessica scrunched her face up in an effort not to cry. This was horrible, but she had to stay in control of what she was saying. ‘I miss you, Dulcie, and I am happy that you’re getting married, but what’s happened to you?’
‘Nothing’s happened to me,’ she said quietly.
‘Look,’ Jessica said, ‘if I haven’t been totally supportive then I’m sorry. Kevin’s a lovely guy and I really hope it does work out for the two of you. At the same time, though, your wedding isn’t the only thing going on in the world and you can’t expect everyone to put their lives on hold till the big day.’
‘But I’m not asking everyone,’ insisted Dulcie and in that awful instance Jessica could tell that her friend had started to cry.
Jessica sighed and, blinking back her own tears, tried to make head or tail of what was going on here. There had to be more to this than met the eye. ‘OK,’ she said patiently, rubbing her face vigorously. ‘I’ve admitted that I’ve been a bit freaked out about things, so now it’s your turn to tell me what’s going on. Because I know you can’t really have transformed into some awful clichéd Bridezilla-type person. So, please, just talk to me?’
And finally, after months and months of strangeness, Dulcie did.
‘Oh, Jess,’ she gulped down the phone in a tone so heartbreaking it quite took Jessica’s breath away. ‘I miss my mom. I miss her so much and getting married without her is so, so hard,’ she finished, now breaking down completely, sobbing her heart out.
Loretta had died when Dulcie was twelve, a terrible day that Jessica still found hard to think about even now. Despite a long illness leading up to it, none of them had been even remotely prepared for the end. When it had arrived Vincent had been utterly devastated, completely floored, and so wrapped up in his own grief that he’d found it hard to be as present for Dulcie as she’d needed him to be. As a result the two girls had ended up clinging to each other more than ever during those tricky teenage years. They’d lived in each other’s pockets and now, partly through her own hang-ups, Jessica felt she’d let her down. Not just as a friend, but as a sister, or even a mom of sorts. God, relationships could be so complicated.
Jessica felt dreadful. Suddenly everything about Dulcie’s recent behaviour wasn’t just explained, it was also excused. Not having her mom around to help pick out her dress, and to decide everything with, must make what should be such a happy time so horribly bittersweet.
‘Oh, Dulcie,’ said Jessica, wishing she was back in the States so she could give her friend a much-needed hug. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
‘That’s OK,’ wailed Dulcie down the phone. ‘It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I’ve been putting so much pressure on you to be something you’re not. It’s just, I suppose you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a sister, or in some ways … you know … you look after me, Jess. And I know I’m young to be getting married, but I just want a family of my own.’
‘I know,’ said Jessica, who by now was crying just as hard as her friend. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. There were some things in life that were simply more important than finding out who you were. ‘I’ll come home. I could fly in the morning and be back by tomorrow.’
‘No,’ said Dulcie firmly. To her own surprise she started to giggle, spluttering through the tears. The relief of finally having said out loud what she’d hardly dared to admit even to herself was overwhelming. ‘Of course you have to stay, silly. I want you to and I want you to have an adventure. You deserve one and, besides, I need to pull myself together …’ Her voice cracked again and Jessica’s heart felt like doing the same. ‘I love you, Jess, and I’m really sorry if I’ve been a bitch.’
‘You haven’t,’ said Jessica. ‘Slightly nutty perhaps, a bit OTT about things maybe, but not a bitch and, besides, you’ve had good reason.’ A stray tear escaped, which she wiped away, still feeling guilty.
‘Hey, if you’re going to be there for ages “finding yourself” maybe I should come and see you in London? Have a break from thinking about the wedding all the time?’ said Dulcie suddenly in an inspired tone Jessica knew only too well.
She swallowed, instantly filled with unease. This was her trip and she felt rather possessive of it. Like a small child who didn’t want to share.
‘OK, you’re so obviously not into that idea,’ said Dulcie.
‘No, no, I am,’ rushed Jessica, desperate to avoid another row. ‘But maybe give me a while to settle in, yeah? I just really want to see if I can do things on my own for a bit, you know? I think it would be good for me.’
‘OK,’ agreed Dulcie. ‘But once you’re settled I am so there, just try and stop me.’
Jessica grinned as she realized that having her best friend there for a bit would actually be fun. ‘Great, and we could even make your visit into a hen weekend, one just for you and me,’ she suggested.
‘Cool,’ agreed Dulcie.
Then Jessica couldn’t resist adding, ‘I flew here economy, you know.’
‘No way!’ exclaimed her friend, shocked to the core. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I survived,’ laughed Jessica.
‘Hey, you’d better make it back for your dad’s party, by the way. Dad said Mr G’s climbing the walls without you.’
‘Of course,’ said Jessica, making a mental note to tell Kerry as soon as possible that she needed time off in September while feeling thankful that at last it seemed she had her friend back.
13
Jessica’s second day in The Bradley Mackintosh Show office continued in much the same vein as day one. That is to say, it was scary, nerve-racking and a struggle to keep up with what was going on as she tried to acclimatize to her workmates’ way of doing things. M
aking head or tail of their quick-fire banter required all her concentration and that, coupled with having to be on guard about everything she said, meant that by lunchtime she felt like she needed a holiday.
As a result, when everybody set off for the canteen Jessica decided to hang back for a minute so that she could email Dulcie, gather her thoughts and take a literal deep breath.
Had she known that by doing so she was providing her workmates with the perfect opportunity to have a good gossip about her, she might not have bothered.
‘There’s something about her that doesn’t quite ring true,’ Natasha was saying to the group.
‘What are you on about?’ said Vanessa in her thick Scouse accent. ‘You just don’t like her because she’s an attractive girl and you don’t like the competition.’
‘It’s not that,’ insisted Natasha. ‘She’s not all that anyway. Or at least she wouldn’t be if she wasn’t so … shiny.’
‘What?’ said Kerry. ‘Jessica’s got great skin; it’s not shiny at all.’
‘I’m not talking about her skin,’ said Natasha, struggling to find the words to express what she did mean. ‘I’m talking about her overall persona, I suppose. She just looks a bit too fresh to me, sort of “done” in the same way that certain celebs do, but only because you know they have a team of people whose jobs it is to make that person look and feel their absolute best. In the same way Jennifer Aniston looks like she wouldn’t be capable of having BO no matter how hard she exercised. Or have greasy hair. I mean, has anyone else noticed how expensive her clothes are?’
‘They aren’t that flashy,’ interjected Luke, who was more engrossed in flicking bits of rice salad up Kerry’s sleeve.
‘I know she’s not “flashy”, but her T-shirts aren’t exactly Top Shop’s finest and I know for a fact her jeans cost well over a hundred quid.’
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
‘What?’ said Natasha indignantly.
‘Even if you are right, and she’s got a bit of money, why should it bother you? I reckon you’re just pissed off because our Paul told Luke she’s got a nice arse.’
‘Bollocks,’ snapped Natasha before clamming up, because just then she’d spotted Jessica herself waving over to the group as she entered the canteen. Natasha at least had the good grace to wave back, albeit unenthusiastically, before turning back to Vanessa to say something else.
Over the other side of the room, Jessica sighed. She got the distinct impression she was being discussed, but knew how desperately important it was to ingratiate herself with these people in order to survive. She armed herself with a plastic tray. She felt like she was back in high school, the only difference being that back then she was the one people wanted to impress, not the other way round.
As she stood in line she noticed Paul Fletcher strolling casually into the canteen, hands in pockets. She smiled across at him, but her smile soon faded when she realized that, unlike everyone else, he wasn’t intending to get to the back of the line (or ‘queue’ as the Brits liked to call it). Instead he bypassed the long, slow-moving line completely, grabbed a sandwich, a drink and a packet of crisps from the section near the till and barged ahead, seemingly unconcerned that people were tutting at him. Only as he was paying did he spot Jessica.
‘All right?’ he called over to her. ‘What are you having?’
‘Not sure,’ she answered truthfully, having completely lost her appetite. Of all her workmates, he was the one who made her nerves most jittery.
‘Oh, well, come and sit with us anyway,’ offered Paul magnanimously, in a way that made her feel rather patronized.
Feeling about as clunky and inept as she ever had in her life, Jessica nodded feebly while wondering what to do. In the end she gave up on lunch altogether, deposited her tray back where she’d found it and followed him across the room.
There wasn’t much space round the table, but Paul squashed in next to Kerry. ‘Budge up, fatty,’ he said playfully.
‘Fuck off,’ said Kerry, her mouth full of lamb curry. ‘I need comfort food after the date I had last night. I’m only just about getting over the stress of it.’
Jessica had reached the table by this point, but there was no room and she felt too shy to ask anyone to move up, so ended up hovering in the background, hoping that someone would eventually notice and let her in.
‘Thought you’d given up on dating,’ said Luke.
‘A girl can change her mind,’ she said, giving him a ridiculously over the top wink.
‘Tell Paul what he was wearing,’ said Natasha, who had spotted Jessica but didn’t feel particularly inclined to include her, so didn’t.
‘What?’ said Paul. ‘What could the poor bastard possibly have been wearing that was quite so terrible?’
Having already been regaled with the facts, Natasha, Vanessa and Isy giggled in anticipation.
Kerry swallowed her mouthful of curry before announcing: ‘Cufflinks in the shape of wine bottles.’
The group all laughed and Jessica wondered how to react given that she was standing awkwardly on the outskirts of their conversation. Joining in felt absurd, but not as ridiculous as standing there like a self-conscious lemon. Thankfully at that moment Luke noticed her.
‘Oi, girls, let Jess in,’ he said. ‘She hasn’t got a seat.’
‘Oh, sorry, babe,’ said Kerry immediately. ‘Here, squeeze in next to me. Vanessa, move your ruddy great big bag out the way.’
‘Thanks,’ said Jessica, grateful to them both. When Vanessa flashed her a warm smile she felt borderline tearful. She hated feeling so pathetic but when you’re used to being in the inner circle, becoming the outsider was an alien experience that was tough to get used to and frightening to boot.
‘So is the line-up still the same for this week?’ asked Paul, slurping back his drink.
‘For a change, yes,’ replied Kerry. ‘I think it’s going to be a good show, actually, and with Mike away there won’t be anyone breathing down my neck either.’
‘Thank God,’ said Paul with feeling.
‘Anyway,’ said Kerry, ‘guess what I’ve got in my handbag, everybody?’
‘Two severed hands and wrists, complete with naff, wine-bottle-shaped cufflinks?’ asked Luke.
‘Better than that,’ she declared, bending down to rummage in her bag. ‘This week’s copy of Heat!’
The other girls all whooped with delight, flinging themselves across the table in order to get a better look with such enthusiasm that, for the first time that day, Jessica’s laugh was completely natural.
‘Ooh, fantastic, look at her,’ said Vanessa with relish, her hazel eyes dancing as she studied some unfortunate, vaguely famous person who’d been snapped looking pale and dishevelled. ‘Doesn’t she look a right bloody state?’
Jessica’s face fell ever so slightly as she tried to make head or tail of what Vanessa had just said, so strong was her accent.
‘To be fair,’ piped up Paul, ‘she has just walked out of hospital; I can’t say I’d appreciate a camera being shoved in my face straight after an operation.’
The girls ignored him. Bitching over the latest copy of Heat was a pastime you weren’t allowed to partake in half-heartedly.
‘She’s pretty,’ said Isy, pointing at a picture of a haughty but beautiful-looking young heiress stumbling out of a nightclub.
‘Pretty stupid,’ said Paul, getting into the spirit of things. ‘I’d love to see her doing a proper day’s work and see how special she thought she was then.’
‘Well said,’ agreed Vanessa. ‘Life’s bloody unfair, isn’t it?’
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Kerry, laughing at how decisively Paul had dismissed the girl as being useless. ‘I know she’s had a jammy start in life, but it’s not her fault, is it? Just because her dad’s loaded doesn’t automatically make her a bad person.’
‘No, but I bet you it makes her a spoiled, stupid one,’ said Paul.
‘Well, that’s just such a knee-jerk reaction,’
said Jessica forcefully, before she’d had a chance to even register what was about to come out of her mouth. Everyone fell silent, looking to Paul to see how he would react.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said calmly, regarding her coolly.
Jessica blushed to her roots but felt compelled to push her point. ‘You don’t even know her, so all you’re basing your opinion on is what you know about her father.’
‘Her father who is a multi-millionaire,’ retorted Paul.
Jessica looked to Kerry, who was listening intently but clearly didn’t plan on getting involved. Everyone else was suddenly taking a keen interest in their food. Jessica swallowed.
‘But so what if her dad’s rich?’
‘So it doesn’t take a genius to work out that, judging by the way she’s staggering out of that club, she’s led a pretty pampered, cosseted existence. So I happen to think I can imagine exactly what she’s like, and while I would love to live in the idealistic world you clearly inhabit in Hampstead, I don’t. I live in the real one.’
‘Meaning what?’ Jessica asked hotly, outraged by how rude he was being.
‘Meaning that Helena Davies will undoubtedly have been spoiled by daddy so will have turned out a right horror, which might not be her fault but is just the way it is.’
‘You’re very judgemental, aren’t you? I mean, you haven’t even seen where I live in Hampstead.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘I’m staying with my aunt,’ Jessica continued, wondering why she cared quite so much what Paul thought anyway, ‘and as it happens her house is very ordinary; very nice, but ordinary.’
‘You don’t have to justify your existence to me,’ he replied.
Jessica opened her mouth to argue but something about the way Paul’s eyes were glittering prevented her from doing so.
‘Still, Helena Davies is wearing great shoes,’ added Isy, giving Jessica’s knee the slightest squeeze under the table.