by Amy Bratley
I rolled my eyes. What was a cigarette after three years of waiting? I watched Ethan walk towards the French doors, which led onto a small balcony. He lit a cigarette, looking out at the scrub of green space opposite where I could hear the sound of kids playing football in the last light of the evening. I heard him introduce himself to the neighbours, who were having a drink on their balcony. Ethan talked to everyone he met. How many times had I been out with Ethan in the past, hoping for a romantic night with just the two of us, only to hook up with random people we stumbled across? Admittedly, that was part of his charm; you never quite knew what would happen. I had always wished I could be more like him, instead of self-conscious and tongue-tied.
Maggie stuck her head out of her bedroom door. ‘I have a surprise for you before pudding,’ she said. ‘Cover your eyes, everyone!’
Back in his chair, next to me, Andrew covered his eyes. Ethan finished his smoke and sat down. He held a napkin in front of his face and I closed my eyes, reluctantly, until Maggie told us we could look again.
‘Wow,’ I said, opening my eyes to see Maggie dressed up in an authentic belly-dancing outfit. She looked incredible. Her breasts were barely covered by the bejewelled bikini top, shimmering gold tassels hung provocatively over her thighs and a slim gold chain was looped around her middle. With her curls cascading down her back, she looked drop-dead gorgeous.
‘I second that,’ said Ethan.
‘Good Lord,’ said Andrew. ‘I don’t know where to look.’
Maggie giggled, then changed the music on her iPod, turned up the volume, and started to belly dance, totally professionally, leaving us all open-mouthed. This was one good party trick. She was mesmerizing and oozing with sexuality. When the music stopped, she froze for a moment, before bowing. Andrew began slow clapping.
‘Wow,’ I said again, stunned. ‘That was completely amazing.’
‘Maggie,’ Andrew said, ‘you looked beautiful.’
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Ethan said from the balcony doors, where he was now standing, smoking again. ‘That was thrilling.’
She looked over to him and smiled. I watched their eyes lock. My stomach turned over. Ethan walked towards her, holding out his arms when he was near.
‘Show me how to do it,’ he said. ‘What do I do?’
‘Men don’t belly dance,’ she giggled.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Show me.’
Ethan tucked his T-shirt up and pushed his jeans further down his hips so we could all see his slim, surprisingly tanned torso, and Maggie put her hands on his waist, showing him how to move. He pranced about, making a joke of it, entertaining his audience, as always. Watching them together made me feel sick. Ethan couldn’t be more insensitive if he tried. I thought about Joe. He would never make me feel like this. He was aware of boundaries. Ethan, apparently, wasn’t. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized I was being a complete hypocrite. Wasn’t I, earlier, talking about marrying Joe? I blinked, confused and disorientated. I didn’t know how I felt.
‘I’d better get going,’ I said to Andrew, who was clapping at Ethan and Maggie. ‘I’ve got loads of work to do on the cafe tomorrow.’
‘Go?’ said Andrew, frowning. ‘But we haven’t had pudding yet. You can’t go. You won’t be able to rate Maggie’s dinner properly. If you do, I’ll have to go too, because I don’t want to be a gooseberry . . .’
Andrew pulled a face and I gulped. He’d noticed their connection too.
‘Just need some fresh air,’ I mumbled. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
I stood and picked up my bag without looking at Ethan and Maggie. My face was hot and my eyes moist. I couldn’t believe how pathetically jealous I felt, when I had no right at all. I had to get out of there, before I did or said something stupid. I moved towards the door, but Ethan suddenly was by my side and grabbed my arm. In the background, Maggie was still dancing, showing Andrew the moves now, while he laughed awkwardly.
‘You’re not going, are you?’ Ethan said, appalled. ‘You can’t go.’
‘Just want some air,’ I said, choking slightly. ‘I’m really hot and . . .’
Ethan looked worried, his face suddenly serious.
‘Come out on the balcony,’ Ethan said. ‘We were going to talk. I’m sorry. I’m being a dick. Come on. Maggie says she’s got a bottle of tequila after pudding. We could do a couple of shots. Remember when we used to go to that tequila bar?’
I shook my head, though of course I did. The last thing I needed was to get completely trashed with Ethan. I wanted to keep a clear head. I wanted to find out why he left three years ago and then get out of there.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to get drunk. I just want to talk. Maybe here isn’t the right place.’
Ethan grabbed my hand and pulled me out onto the balcony, which looked over a square of lawn surrounded by other blocks of flats. I leaned against the waist-high wall and glanced at the other balconies I could see, some with a string of clothes drying out, others stuffed full of junk, one with two bikes with their wheels in the air. I clasped my hands together while Ethan stood next to me. Our elbows touching, he brushed the side of my face with his hand.
‘Look, Eve,’ he said.
My face burned and I trembled. No one but Ethan had this effect on me. I had no control over my physical response to him. It was almost animalistic.
‘Yes?’ I said. ‘What?’
‘There’s one thing I want to say. Two, actually,’ he said. ‘Firstly, I want to say sorry. Secondly, you can’t marry Joe. I won’t allow it.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I said, feeling anger surge up in me. ‘You’ve no right to say anything like that. It’s been three years since you had any right to—’
Ethan lifted his finger to his lips to silence me.
‘Don’t be angry . . .’ Ethan said quietly. ‘I still—’
He closed his mouth as if deciding not to say any more.
‘You what?’ I said, chewing my bottom lip.
I wondered fleetingly if he was going to say he still loved me, then laughed at myself for being ridiculous. If he really loved me, he would have come to find me before now. I reprimanded myself for letting my mind go down that road. He probably didn’t like the thought of me finding happiness with anyone else. He loved to be the centre of attention, whatever the situation, didn’t he? No, this was supposed to be about closure, not opening up all those old feelings.
‘I want to kiss you,’ he said. ‘I’m going to kiss you.’
Before I could say anything or do anything, Ethan moved towards me and kissed my mouth. His kiss was gentle and sweet. He tasted of cigarettes and alcohol and how certainty used to taste. My entire body flushed with desire. His lips stayed on mine, firmer now, and I forced myself to remember where I was and what I was doing. Angrily, I pulled my head back and moved away from him.
‘Ethan,’ I said. ‘You can’t just kiss me like that. I’m with Joe, remember? A second ago you were flirting with Maggie and this is all stupid. I shouldn’t even be—’
Ethan held on to both my hands, while I looked up at the sky, my eyes blurring. I pulled my arms away and wiped my eyes.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘You know there’s something still between us. You can feel it just like I can. Now that I’ve seen you again, I’m more sure than ever that going to Rome was all a big mistake. I should have stayed. I wish I’d been brave enough to stay.’
The French doors behind us suddenly opened and Maggie, grinning, eyed us both suspiciously.
‘The pudding is on the table,’ she said. ‘Coming in?’
Ethan, reverting back to the Ethan of minutes before, nodded enthusiastically.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Definitely.’
He rested his hands on Maggie’s waist as he passed by her. I shook my head.
‘Just give me a minute,’ I said, bewildered, fiddling around in my bag for a tissue. ‘I’ve got awful hayfever.’
Maggie’s eyebr
ows shot into her hairline and when Ethan went into the living room before me, she leaned in close and whispered in my ear.
‘I saw that,’ she said. ‘I think you have some explaining to do, Miss Eve.’
As delicious as it was, I could barely swallow Maggie’s pistachio and rose ice cream, delicate pastry honey cakes and dessert wine. All I could think of was Ethan’s lips on mine, minutes before. I wondered if I’d dreamt it, but every time Ethan’s eyes met mine, I knew I hadn’t. He was right. There was something still there between us. But what of it? I was with Joe. I loved Joe.
‘I put real rose petals in here,’ she said, pointing at the ice cream. ‘Surely you’ll give me a high score for effort? What do you say, Andrew? Taste this bit—’
Maggie, still in her costume, virtually falling out of the bra top, was spooning pudding into Andrew’s mouth. Andrew, unsure of how to handle the attention, eyed me pleadingly.
‘Where did you learn to dance?’ I asked Maggie, trying to change the subject and grab her attention, wanting to get back to some kind of normal.
‘I’ve taken classes for years,’ she said. ‘Very good for my figure. I know: let’s all dance, shall we?’
Maggie stood up and turned out all the lights, plunging everyone into darkness. I froze. She put on the music she’d previously danced to and clapped her hands together.
‘Dance, everyone!’ she said. ‘No one can see you, so you can relax!’
‘Come off it,’ Andrew said. ‘I’ll break my leg.’
It was dark, but not completely dark, so we could all still see one another. Ethan stood up and came over to where I was sitting. He held out his hand and after a long moment, I accepted it. He put one hand on my waist. For a few moments, we danced together, him twirling me into his body and out again, like we’d done before hundreds of times. Then Maggie flicked the light back on. I collapsed onto the floor cushions and Ethan then flopped down onto the cushion next to mine, puffing and panting. As he did so, he rested his hand on the back of my neck and gently stroked my skin, just once. I stiffened. I had to get out.
‘OK, enough, I’d better get going,’ I said, jumping up out of his reach, checking my watch. ‘It’s so late. I’ll just splash my face with water, then go. I’ve had way too much to drink.’
‘Don’t go,’ said Ethan, looking at me searchingly. ‘The party’s only just beginning.’
‘No,’ I said decisively. ‘I’ve got to.’
I quickly walked towards the bathroom, wobbling slightly, and closed the door behind me, muffling the sounds of music and laughter. I looked at my reflection: bright-eyed and pink-cheeked. Despite the guilt I felt, I recognized joy in my expression. I groaned and leaned over the sink, turned on the tap and splashed my face with water, when I noticed a silver locket hanging on a peg just inside the bathroom cabinet. It was open slightly, so I dried my hands and looked at the picture. It was of Maggie, with a dark-haired, dark-eyed, slim man. They were abroad somewhere, sitting on a moped, her arms wrapped around his middle, both beaming. There was a knock at the door and I quickly hung it back up.
‘I need the loo!’ Maggie said through the door. ‘Are you done?’
‘Yes,’ I said, opening the door, watching the necklace still swinging. It was obvious I’d been looking at it.
‘My locket,’ she said, looking from me to it, feeling her neck, as if to confirm she wasn’t wearing it. ‘Thought I was wearing that.’
‘It fell off the hook,’ I stuttered. ‘Sorry for being nosy, but it fell open. Who’s the picture of?’
Maggie’s cheeks, flushed with alcohol, paled slightly and her eyes glittered with tears.
‘I shouldn’t have asked,’ I said quickly as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. She sat down on the edge of the bath.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Think I’ve had too much booze. That’s Sal. He was my childhood sweetheart. We were together ten years, then he went off with another woman. I found them in bed together when I came home from work early one day. They’re married now, with kids. I still love him. I still talk to him. We still love each other.’
‘Oh God,’ I said. ‘That’s awful. I’m sorry.’
Maggie, in the glare of the bathroom strip-light, suddenly seemed fragile and lost. Her lips quivered.
‘We were engaged,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders and glancing up at me, as if to acknowledge everything we’d said earlier about marriage. ‘But, you know, didn’t work out . . .’
Her voice was quiet and her eyes soft. For a second I saw another side to her, but she quickly recovered herself, grinning up at me.
‘So, what’s going on with Ethan?’ she said. ‘You should have said I was treading on your toes. Do you two have history?’
I groaned and leaned the back of my head against the bathroom door.
‘We used to be a couple,’ I said quietly. ‘We were together for two years, then he walked out on me three years ago and I haven’t seen him since, until he turned up at the door last Saturday.’
‘Nooo,’ she said. ‘What a coincidence!’
‘I know,’ I said, nodding. ‘Ethan thinks it’s destiny.’
‘Why did he go?’ she said. ‘What happened?’
I shrugged and frowned, pushing my hair behind my ears.
‘I don’t really know,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure that there was a real reason.’
‘Perhaps he got scared,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ve seen that happen a lot. The man gets in too deep then decides to leg it without explaining why. They’re not as good at commitment as women, are they? When I say women, I’m not talking about myself, you understand.’
I nodded and watched Maggie turn to face the mirror and apply her lipstick.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘But anyway, it’s all too much, seeing him like this. I need to get going. Joe, my boyfriend, will wonder where I am. I feel terrible for him. If he knew what was—’
Maggie shook her head.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Don’t feel guilty. It’s a pointless emotion. You’re working out where your heart lies. That’s admirable, courageous.’
I looked up at her questioningly and she handed me a tissue to pat dry my eyes.
‘You think?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘If Sal had been braver and done that a little bit sooner in our relationship, I wouldn’t have found him shagging that woman in my bed. It would all have been a lot more civilized.’
‘Is that why you’re so anti-relationships, then?’ I asked. ‘Because of Sal?’
Maggie shrugged and pulled at a loose bead on her top.
‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘I just know that I don’t ever want to be in that situation again where my entire life is wrapped up in one person. It’s easier this way, to be in control and have flings with men who are already committed. On the whole they don’t want much from me. I’m not prepared to give up on the emotional freedom that gives me. Do you understand, even a bit?’
Maggie’s voice became stronger again as she spoke. It felt to me like she’d given herself this lecture numerous times.
‘I do understand,’ I said. ‘I guess we all have our reasons for being the way we are.’
‘Yes, just look at Andrew,’ Maggie said. ‘Him and Alicia have problems and now twins on the way.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘Poor guy. Maybe they’ll work it out.’
‘It’s all a bit fucked up, though, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Relationships always are. That’s why I like to keep at a distance. Listen, let’s have a quick tequila before you go. I’m enjoying talking to you.’
I checked my watch. It was almost one in the morning. I followed her out of the bathroom.
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘Joe will be wondering—’
‘That’s where you are,’ Andrew said, getting up from the sofa, wobbling slightly. ‘Is everything OK? Ethan had to go. He said goodbye. And thank you.’
I tensed. ‘Had to go?’ I asked, thinking he might pop out from behind a
chair. ‘Where did he have to go at one in the morning?’
Visions of a girlfriend, waiting for him at his flat, filled my mind. Or maybe he was making his escape before I could make him talk again. Andrew stood up, stretched up his arms and pulled on his suit jacket.
‘Home,’ he said. ‘He was talking about Rome and was about to tuck into that bottle of tequila, then went all quiet and seemed to change his mind. I suppose I ought to make a move myself.’
Chapter Ten
‘Do you think there was anyone else involved?’ Maggie said, after we’d said goodbye to Andrew and she convinced me to have one last drink. ‘You know, in my experience, there always is someone else.’
Maggie was sprawled out on one of her sofas, one knee bent and the other leg outstretched, while I sat opposite her, upright and straight-backed on her chaise longue, dipping my hand into a bowl of Kettle Chips she had put near me. Instead of a tequila shot, Maggie had made me a tequila sunrise, topping the drink with grenadine, which sank to the bottom, giving a pretty sunrise effect. I rested the glass on my jiggling knee and took regular sips. A hypnotic chill-out compilation played out of the stereo, but I was far from sleep. I felt completely wired. Why had Ethan gone off like that?
‘No,’ I said. ‘I really don’t think Ethan would do that. He’s a massive flirt, but loyalty is important to him. It used to be, anyway. Besides, I was with him all the time, or knew who he was with. I think it was something else. I think, like you said, he got cold feet. Maybe I was going on at him too much, trying to make him stay in too often, when he wanted to go out. I admit I got quite clingy towards the end. I’d phone him and ask him to come home when he was out, that kind of stupid thing. But he was terrible for just doing his own thing. Like tonight, for instance. I mean, where’s he gone tonight?’
Maggie turned her head to face me.
‘Did he come home?’ Maggie said. ‘When you asked?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He’d come home and try to find out what my problem was. He was always cool about it and listened to me. This didn’t happen often, maybe only twice or three times, but I think it pissed him off, really. When I look back, I was quite pathetic. I don’t know why I did it. I was testing him, I suppose.’