by Lynda Renham
‘Thank you Jamie, but I really don’t need you to stand up for me,’ snaps Toby.
Alex passes a dish across the table towards me.
‘Stuffing,’ he says flatly and the colour rises to my cheeks.
‘Ooh,’ Issy whispers into my ear and the burning spreads throughout my body. I lift my eyes to Alex Bryant to see him looking at me with that arrogant smile on his face. He really manages to make me feel quite ridiculous, and feeling ridiculous is something I do very well without anyone helping me thank you.
‘That’s fattening,’ remarks Toby, snatching the dish from Alex.
He is quite right of course. In fact, the whole dinner is full of sodding calories, but did he have to really make the point in front of everyone? I wish I could crawl home to my little cottage with a cheap bottle of wine and a box of Toblerone and not be a part of this debacle.
‘How about fifty quid,’ bellows Miles. There is silence and all eyes are on Miles. Well, it makes a change from all eyes on me.
‘In the shoebox, put fifty quid in each one. Surely dosh is the best thing. You can’t send over a shoebox of rice, what!’
What, indeed.
‘Honestly, how naïve,’ mumbles Toby, but Alex Bryant, who evidently has bionic ears, hears him.
‘With all due respect, it is no more naïve than your article, which apart from the outstanding paragraph on the futility of war, was really very lame and lacked substance.’
‘Didn’t you write that bit Libby?’ chips in Issy gaily.
Toby shoots me a murderous look.
‘She just tidied up some errors,’ snarls Toby.
Alex squints at me. Oh dear, now my life will not be worth living.
‘I wasn’t aware you contributed to the article,’ says Bryant, studying me.
‘Why did you have to open your big mouth,’ Toby snaps at Issy.
I feel quite inclined to ask Bryant the same question. It is at this point in the proceedings that I decide to take up smoking. Not literally you understand. I just need to make my escape and get out of the hall.
‘Just going out for a ciggie,’ I mumble, scraping back my chair.
‘What!’ Issy exclaims.
Instead of fresh air, I find myself swallowed up in a whirlpool of blue haze as smokers indulge their habit by the French doors. Driving home for Christmas assaults my ears. I grab two Quality Street from the sweet dish at the doorway. This is turning into the Christmas from hell. How on earth can I propose to Toby in this atmosphere? I cough and splutter my way through the haze until I reach fresh air. I smooth down my dress and see to my horror that my tights have ripped. That’s about right. Why is Toby snapping at me so much? Is it my fault Alex sodding Bryant is on our table? I sit on the courtyard bench for a while and compose myself. I turn to head back and then I see them. How I didn’t hear them before is beyond me as she has a laugh like a foghorn. I am frozen to the spot and stare at them as if hypnotised. As if in slow motion, she turns, flicking her hair from her face and leans back so he has to hold her tighter. She throws herself forward and kisses him passionately on the lips before she sees me. It is Serena Lambert, the daughter of Toby’s boss, and she is kissing my boyfriend by the Christmas tree in his new starched shirt. Stop thinking about his starched shirt, you mad bitch. Jesus, this is the worst moment of my life and I’m worried about his new shirt. Christ. Serena’s shocked expression must reflect my own. If there had been a knife nearby I swear I don’t know who I would have stabbed first. Okay, I am probably hysterical, and don’t know what the hell I am thinking. Serena Lambert and my boyfriend kissing, surely I should stab him first. Oh damn it, it is probably easier to stab myself and be done with it.
‘Libby,’ squeals Serena pushing past the Christmas tree and plonking herself in front of me. Sparkly tinsel from the tree is now attached to her static lacquered hair making her look a bit like a Christmas Barbie doll. All the same, she is a slim Barbie doll. Compared to her I look like a fat Womble.
‘Isn’t it just a fantabulous party? I was just saying to Toby, isn’t it a fantabulous party.’ She squeaks much too shrilly while seemingly popping her breasts back into her dress. I feel nauseous.
‘Yes, it certainly is a fantabulous party indeed,’ says a cool voice behind us and we all turn to see Alex Bryant. ‘This fell from your bag,’ he says holding out my Blackberry.
A very flustered Toby looks from Serena to Alex and then back to me.
‘Libby, it isn’t what you think,’ he says.
I mustn’t cry. Whatever happens I mustn’t cry in front of them all. Alex gives Toby a hard stare before turning to me.
‘Let’s get you a drink,’ he says softly and before I can speak he is taking my hand and leading me past Toby and towards the bar.
‘What’s your poison?’
I look at him. My head is spinning. How could Toby humiliate me like that?
‘What?’
‘What would you like to drink?’
Oh God, this is awful. Is Penelope watching us?
‘I should get back to the table,’ I say weakly.
‘I think you need a drink,’ he tells me smiling, ‘unless of course you are very hungry?’
The truth is I have totally lost my appetite. I feel such a fool. Did Alex Bryant see them kissing as well? Oh, it is just too awful for words. I shake my head. The smell of Trésor seems to be all around us and I wonder if he can smell it too. God, I hope he doesn’t think it’s my perfume. I hate the stuff.
‘I’ll have a whisky and coke,’ I say.
A whisky and coke, what am I saying? I never drink whisky and coke. I must be in shock. I’m also wondering what the hell I am doing drinking with Alex Bryant. Of course, had the circumstances been different, it would have been rather nice. I notice several women at the bar are looking at me enviously. Now that is a first.
‘Why were you there?’ I ask in an accusatory tone.
‘There?’ he questions, handing me the drink which I throw back in one hit. The burning liquid hits my throat with such force that I immediately cough and feel my eyes water.
‘In the courtyard,’ I say throatily and dab at my eyes with a tissue.
‘I came to give you your phone, but also to apologise for my rudeness the other evening in Dirty Doug’s.’
His eyes are twinkling.
‘Oh,’ I stammer. I know I should apologise too, but somehow my pride won’t allow me.
‘Are you okay,’ he asks gently.
I nod, although I’m not really.
‘Would you like me to take you home?’
Now, there’s an offer I wouldn’t have refused when we were at Dirty Doug’s. Before I have time to answer Miles joins us at the bar.
‘Bottoms up old girl,’ he bellows, handing me a glass of wine. Oh, don’t tell me Miles saw everything too.
‘We haven’t been introduced properly,’ he says leaning drunkenly towards Alex. ‘But I’m a great admirer of your work.’ He shakes Alex’s hand vigorously, and Alex winks at me.
Good heavens.
‘Down the hatch,’ I say gulping down some wine.
‘Here’s mud in your eye,’ chips in the waiter as Toby rushes up to the bar with a pained expression on his face. I gulp down the wine and hold out my glass for more, which Alex gladly refills.
‘Libby, for Christ’s sake, let me explain.’
I give him a scathing look and lift the glass to my lips.
‘Down in one,’ shouts Miles.
I giggle.
‘Get that doon yer gullet,’ laughs the waiter.
‘Over the lips, past the gums, watch out tummy here it comes!’ I hiccup and giggle at the guilty look on Toby’s face.
‘Don’t tell me Toby, she had something in her eye. Am I right?’
Toby’s face colours and Miles laughs. Although, I don’t think he is sure what is going on. Alex looks scathingly at Toby.
‘Up your bum,’ Miles shouts and throws back his drink.
Alex takes m
y arm.
‘Let’s get you home,’ he says softly.
Toby pushes his hand off my arm roughly.
‘Take your fucking hands off her, you arrogant prick.’
‘Let’s not have a scene, Toby,’ Bryant responds quietly but there is the undercurrent of a challenge in his voice.
‘How could you Toby? You’ve made a fool of me. I’ve only ever tried to be a good girlfriend to you. I hate you,’ I say and before I know what I’m doing I have emptied the glass over his head.
Issy pulls me gently by the arm.
‘Thank you Alex, I’ll take care of her. Come on Libby, we’re going home.’
I give Toby a two finger salute as I am dragged from the ‘fantabulous’ party. I look to Alex Bryant who is watching us with a serious expression on his face. The last words I hear are Toby’s.
‘At least she doesn’t belittle me… and she isn’t fat.’
What a bastard. And you know what; I think I still love him. There must be something seriously wrong with me.
Chapter Four
It is seven-thirty the morning after the party, and my brain is in turmoil. Okay, I am suffering from a mild hangover, and to make matters worse I have started my period, and all I have in the house is one measly panty liner. Why did Hobnobs have their ‘fantabulous’ party on a Sunday night? It’s all I can do to get out of bed, let alone go to work. You remember the fantabulous party, the one where I dumped Toby.
I fly out of the cottage, coat flapping and tights slipping to the bottom of my buttocks. I get that uncomfortable feeling that my sanitary towel is creeping upwards and will soon be residing between the crack in my bottom. Don’t you just hate panty liners? They never stay where you put them. How could I forget to buy tampons? I know diets are important and all that, but hell, did I forget all things hygienic at Tesco? I turn to lock the door and realise I don’t have my keys. A quick fumbling in my handbag just produces a four letter word and an apology to the milkman. If only he sold tampons. He sells everything else. I notice his flies are undone and turn away to fumble in my handbag again. A quick thrill from the milkman is the last thing I need. I rush back inside and dash from room to room looking for my keys. I punch Hobnobs number into my Blackberry while crawling under the bed.
‘Good morning, Jamie Murray’s office,’ says a cheery voice.
Christ, how does Jane manage to sound so chirpy at seven-thirty in the morning? More importantly, what does she swallow with her Weetabix that propels her there at such an unearthly hour? And how can she sound so bright and breezy the morning after the fantabulous party?
I pull the keys from under the bed along with a solitary contraceptive pill. Ah, that’s what happened to Wednesday.
‘It’s me,’ I mumble while banging my head. ‘Shit.’
‘Right,’ responds Jane somewhat dully.
‘Running late…’ I mutter.
God, I am appalled at the layer of dust under the bed. How did that get there?
‘You don’t say?’
‘I have a meeting with Jamie…’
‘I will tell him the bad news myself.’
I blow a raspberry, hang up and fly out of the door knocking over a bottle of milk.
‘Shit.’
‘Not what you wanted?’ asks the milkman with a broad smile on his face.
‘Leave me skimmed in future. Don’t make me smash another.’ I smile and run to my car, where I skid and bump into it. The sanitary towel rises up and lands in the middle of my back. I sigh and limp round to the driver’s side.
‘You make my mornings,’ he laughs. ‘Where’s that ginger cake you promised me?’
A vision of the ginger cake sitting on my kitchen counter flashes in front of my eyes. Damn it.
‘Tomorrow, remind me,’ I call back before driving off with a wave in the manner of a celebrity. Twenty minutes later I mount the kerb and park on a double yellow line by the cash machine in a manner very unlike a celebrity. I wonder what Madam Zigana is spending my money on. I check my balance and gasp. Two hundred pounds overdrawn! That can’t be right. I print out a balance sheet and cringe. Debenhams £98. I struggle to remember what it was that I had bought in Debenhams. Oh yes, the shoes I had treated myself to for the party. What a waste of money that was. Eighty quid to that bitch Rosemary Conley for the pleasure of starving me. Well, not her personally of course. Then there had been the fortune I had spent in Tesco. Oh, and yes, the low fat cookbook. I had forgotten about that. But, hang on, this can’t be right, two hundred and fifty pounds taken by the electricity board. How can that be right? I live in a little cottage not a bloody nuclear station. I know I have been using the vibrator a bit more but bloody hell. Good job I didn’t have a multiple orgasm, it may have blown the entire electrical network. I make a mental note to query the bill and quickly withdraw thirty pounds before I change my mind. The rent hasn’t even been paid yet. My heart sinks at the thought of asking Jamie for an advance, again. Shivering, I clamber back into my little old Nissan and drive to work, steering with one hand while attempting to yank the sanitary towel back round to where it belongs with the other. I arrive at Hobnobs almost thirty minutes late and oh, who the arsing head and hole has parked in my space? There is a big sign saying ‘STAFF’, for Christ’s sake. I spend the next ten minutes trying to find a space and eventually have to park so close to a wall that I have to get out on the passenger side. I climb over the seat inelegantly and rip my tights in the process. Jesus, I am getting through tights like nobody’s business, I’d do well to take out shares in Marks and Spencer.
Once I finally get inside the building I storm past Jane and head towards Jamie’s office, yanking at the sanitary towel.
‘Morning… oh Libby…’ calls Jane.
I wave while struggling with Jamie’s door, applying a hefty kick to the part that always gets stuck.
‘Shit. This door drives me mad. Sorry I’m late Jamie, it’s been an eventful few hours. It seems my vibrator almost caused a total power wipe out, and some wanker parked their Range Rover in my space would you believe?’ I say, while fingering the hole in my tights.
‘I’m sorry, was that your space? I apologise.’ I recognise the posh voice and my heart sinks.
I look up and see that I am standing in front of Alex Bryant. Oh, for goodness sake. I feel myself blush. Hot liquid floats into my knickers and I want to die. I must look a tramp. I attempt to straighten everything up and avoid Jamie’s disapproving look.
‘Ah, you’re the wanker,’ I say.
‘It would seem so.’ He is smiling, and his laughing eyes seem to mock me. ‘And if my memory serves me correctly, don’t vibrators run off batteries?’
Smart Alec.
‘Mine is a turbo-powered one.’
That puts him in his place. He is annoyingly good looking, I really can’t deny that. Jamie coughs, lowers his eyes to my tights and then looks me in the eye. He looks so young and fresh faced, and I feel old and very weary. He looks at his watch and then back at me.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asks, nodding strangely.
I nod dumbly.
‘Okay if we start the meeting?’
Surely he doesn’t mean with Alex Bryant still here? Before I can reply he clicks the button on his intercom.
‘Can we have some coffee please Jane? Thanks.’
Obviously, he does mean with Alex Bryant still here. Jamie smiles at me, and I relax my shoulders slightly.
‘Alex tells me that you and Toby got engaged. Congratulations.’
Whoops.
‘Erm, yeah, thanks.’
Alex looks closely at me. The sanitary towel is now dangling dangerously outside my knickers. I consider excusing myself and think better of it when Alex the creep pulls a chair out for me. I move slowly towards it and sit down. What the hell is Alex Bryant doing here? Why didn’t Jamie tell me that he would be sitting in on our meeting this morning? I find I cannot even look at him. Not that there is anything wrong with him you understand. Issy, f
or instance, thinks he is drop-dead gorgeous. I suppose he is if you like the dark, brooding type, with dark wavy hair and come-to-bed eyes. There is certainly something animalistic about him, but that is probably the war correspondent in him.
‘Libby, you met Alex last night.’
‘Briefly,’ I answer and stupidly feel myself blush again when Alex winks at me.
‘A definite brief encounter,’ he acknowledges. Whatever the hell that means.
‘Alex’s book has done very well in the States,’ says Jamie.
Is that an accusing tone I hear? Okay Libby, don’t get defensive. You need an advance don’t forget. Did I mention that Alex Bryant sent his first book to us? No, I probably didn’t. I rejected it you see. I always thought him a pompous arse. Nothing has changed there then.
‘Really, I hadn’t heard,’ I lie, shifting in my seat in a vain effort to propel the sanitary towel back upwards only to send the slimy sucker towards my thigh.
Jamie gives me a quizzical look.
‘The book is number one in the New York Times bestseller list,’ he persists.
For Christ’s sake, what does he want me to do? Lick Alex Bryant’s shoes or something?
‘Oh, that book,’ I say in a bored tone.
Alex chuckles.
‘Yes, that book,’ says Jamie impatiently, opening a folder.
‘Yes, of course. They obviously like that kind of stuff in America,’ I say sarcastically.
‘That stuff?’ asks Alex raising his eyebrows and giving me a sardonic smile.
‘You know. If a door is closed karate chop it open. Use your light sabre to hack the concrete to pieces should you be trapped underneath some debris. You know the kind of thing. How to fight off terrorism single handed. I am surprised, in fact, that you managed to find time to attend this meeting. Can you put saving the world on hold?’
Jane glides in at that moment. She takes the time to give Alex Bryant an admiring ‘you are my hero’ look and then offers to pour him coffee.
‘That’s fine. We have it, thank you Jane.’ Jamie escorts her to the door while shooting me a dirty look.
Alex Bryant’s eyes seem to bore right through me.