by Matt Dunn
‘Stop complaining. This was the car you advised me to buy, remember?’
By the time we get to Natasha’s, her drive is full of expensive cars, at least a couple of them hers, but I manage to squeeze the Mini in between a couple of Porsches. As we get out of the car, we can hear music coming from the back of the house, a huge mock-Tudor mansion that I’m guessing wouldn’t leave much change out of a couple of million. Sam stares open-mouthed at the place, whereas Dan, on the other hand, is a little more vocal.
‘Bloody hell. Who did she sleep with to get this?’
Sam gives him an admonishing look. ‘That’s very sexist, Daniel. Why do you have to assume that she couldn’t have earned it herself?’
I have to take Dan’s side on this. ‘Sorry, Sam. Natasha was married to a dot-com millionaire. When they split up, she got to keep the house.’
‘Wow,’ says Sam. ‘What did he get to keep?’
‘His testicles, I believe.’
The party is being held in a marquee that’s probably as big as my entire flat, but takes up less than half of Natasha’s back garden. We walk inside, helping ourselves to a glass of champagne from a passing waitress. Dan, true to form, takes two, winking at the girl as he does so.
After a few minutes, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn round to see Natasha wearing a gold, strapless evening dress. She air kisses me, and when she sees Sam, Natasha raises both her eyebrows.
‘This is Sam,’ I say. ‘My, er…’
‘Edward’s date for the evening,’ says Sam. ‘Pleased to meet you, Natasha.’
‘And this—’ I say, turning to Dan, who’s staring unashamedly at Natasha’s cleavage.
‘Must be Dan,’ interrupts Natasha. ‘It’s very nice to meet you.’
Dan takes Natasha’s outstretched hand and kisses it. ‘The pleasure’s all mine.’
I nudge Sam. ‘That’s true, according to all the women he’s slept with.’
Natasha stares suggestively back at Dan. ‘I find that hard to believe,’ she says.
As the two of them size each other up, Sam and I almost have to recoil from the sparks. Dan switches effortlessly into charm mode, handing Natasha one of his glasses of champagne.
‘Thanks for inviting me to your birthday party,’ he says. ‘Your thirtieth, isn’t it?’
I’m amazed at the cheesiness of Dan’s comment, and wait expectantly for Natasha to shoot him down. Instead, she laps it up.
‘Edward,’ she says. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had such nice-looking friends?’
As she and Dan continue to flirt, I lean towards Sam, and whisper in my best David Attenborough impression.
‘Observe, the mating ritual of the male and female of the species. Although I’m not sure exactly which species…’
It’s clear that our presence in this foursome is two too many, so Sam and I excuse ourselves. Never one to do anything by halves, Natasha has hired a string quartet for the evening, and as they launch into a rousing rendition of ‘Let’s Twist Again’, Sam grabs me by the hand.
‘Can you twist, Edward?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’
‘Have you ever tried?’
‘Er…no.’
‘Well, how do you know you can’t do something if you’ve never even tried it?’
Sam pulls me onto the dance floor, where a number of couples are trying gamely to follow the lead of the band, although their gyrations seem more suited to ‘The Birdie Song’. Sam stands in front of me and tells me to follow her, but just as we’re about to try, the music mercifully changes to something much slower.
‘Oh well.’ I start to walk off the floor, but Sam stops me.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘But the music…’
‘Never mind,’ she says, holding me close and leading me around the dance floor.
I have one hand on her shoulder, and the other on the small of her back, and can feel the sensual movement of her toned body beneath her thin silk dress. I can smell her perfume, the soft scent of her hair, and for a moment, just for a moment, wonder when was the last time I danced with Jane like this. I certainly can’t recall when dancing with Jane made me feel this way. And worryingly, I can’t actually remember the last time Jane and I danced.
As we move to the music, and I become more and more conscious of the soft firmness of her body pressed against mine, I feel a not-so-soft firmness of my own beginning to stir. Quick, I tell myself, think of something else. Normally whenever I’ve needed, shall we say, delaying tactics when I’ve been in bed with Jane, I’ve picked a football side at random and tried to remember all the players’ names, but my mistake this evening is to pick the England World Cup squad from 1966: in goal, Gordon Banks, which I seem to remember is rhyming slang for something else. In defence—oh no—Alan Ball. Aargh!
Fortunately, just as I get to midfielder Nobby Stiles, and realize I couldn’t possibly have made a worse choice of team, the music stops, to be replaced with the unmistakable sound of a champagne glass being tapped. Natasha steps up onto the podium in front of the band, and clears her throat.
‘Well, I want to thank you all for coming,’ she says, to a general murmur of appreciation. ‘As some of you may know, tonight is a special night for me for two reasons. Firstly, because it’s my fortieth birthday.’ She pauses, obviously expecting to hear some mutterings of disbelief. When none come, she coughs awkwardly.
‘Secondly, because it’s also the twentieth anniversary of the day I started my company, which, at the risk of blowing my own trumpet…’
‘That’s not all she’s been blowing,’ I whisper to Sam.
‘…has been doing rather well recently. In fact, business is booming. And that’s why I have a rather important announcement to make. Someone special I want to introduce you to.’
As Natasha scans the crowd, I’m assuming she’s looking for Terry. I haven’t seen him at all this evening, but now I’m assuming that he’s obviously left his wife holding the baby, so to speak, and come along. What on earth is she going to do—propose to him in front of everyone, or some other nonsense?
I’m fed up with this, and make my excuses to Sam, before heading off to find the toilet. But just as I’m walking back into the house, Natasha’s voice, as it has done on so many occasions in the past, stops me in my tracks.
‘Edward? There you are.’
I wave sheepishly, and just about manage to stop myself from cowering in the corner, as everyone turns to look at me.
‘Just going to the toilet, boss,’ I say, which gets a small laugh from the crowd.
Natasha grins. ‘Well, cross your legs for a few minutes and come up here, will you?’
Trying to hide my embarrassment, I make my way towards where she’s standing, and climb up on the podium next to her, struggling not to flinch when she puts her arm around me.
‘As I was saying,’ continues Natasha. ‘The reason we’re doing so well is all down to one person. My right-hand man. Edward.’
I blush. This isn’t happening. I just want to curl up and die. Is she going to propose to me?
‘Which is why,’ she continues, ‘I’d like to make him my partner.’
I stare at Natasha in shock, thinking for a moment that she is proposing to me, until I realize that, actually, this is one long-term relationship that I’m happy to take to the next level.
Natasha raises her champagne glass. ‘So I’d like to make a toast. To what’s going to be my last ever birthday. And to my new business partner, Edward.’
‘To Edward,’ comes the response, and a hundred glasses of champagne are raised in my direction.
As I look around the marquee, people I’ve never even seen before are applauding me. Dan is standing there open-mouthed. Sam is grinning wildly and clapping as loudly as she can. I mumble my thanks to Natasha, climb back down off the podium, and head back towards the two of them.
As Dan shakes me enthusiastically by the hand, Sam grabs me in a big
hug.
‘Partner, eh?’ she says. ‘I guess this means I’ll be putting up my rate.’
‘Yeah, well done,’ says Dan. ‘Partner in a two-person company. And it’s only taken you, what, nine years?’
‘Exactly,’ I say. ‘Who’s the career person now, eh?’
As we head into the garden for some fresh air, Dan puts an arm around my shoulders.
‘Lets just hope it’s equal partners, eh?’ he says, gazing admiringly back up at the house.
Sam looks at him strangely. ‘Are there any other kind?’
12.02 a.m.
By midnight, we’ve danced, eaten, and danced some more. A few of the guests have started to make their way home, and Sam is getting tired, as am I. We have been up since before seven o’clock, I remind her.
‘And have to be tomorrow,’ she says. ‘Our last session, don’t forget.’
I look around for Natasha so we can say goodbye, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Worryingly, nor is Dan.
‘He’s a big boy. He can look after himself,’ I tell Sam, which is code for ‘he’s probably pulled, so that’s the last we’ll see of him’. ‘But I ought to try and find Natasha. Just to say thanks.’
We can’t seem to spot her anywhere, until one of the waiters tells us she was last seen heading towards the swimming pool, so Sam and I walk through the house, following the whiff of chlorine down into the basement. It’s one of those impossible-to-do-lengths-in kidney-shaped pools, with a statue of Michelangelo’s David between a pair of marble pillars at one end, and a large mosaic of two intertwined dolphins on the bottom.
‘Mmm,’ whispers Sam. ‘Tasteful.’
Through what look like plastic palm trees in one corner, I eventually spot Dan. He’s lying in the Jacuzzi, with a blissful look on his face.
‘Typical,’ I say under my breath. ‘Talk about taking advantage of Natasha’s hospitality.’
I’m just about to call out to him when Sam puts a finger on my lips and points towards David, who seems to have Natasha’s dress draped over one of his arms.
‘I think he might be the one who’s being taken advantage of,’ she says.
Confused, I peer back towards the Jacuzzi, where Dan still hasn’t seen us, probably due to the fact that he’s got his eyes shut. Suddenly, there’s even more of a disturbance in the bubbling water, and Natasha’s head surfaces from between Dan’s legs. I suddenly feel unclean, like I’ve walked in on my parents kissing.
‘Impressive,’ whispers Sam.
‘What is?’
‘Natasha. She can stay underwater for a really long time.’
Natasha takes a deep breath and goes back under, causing Dan’s face to change from blissful to ecstatic—an expression I’ll take with me to my grave. We watch, perversely fascinated for a few seconds, until Natasha re-surfaces, and Dan decides to stand up. This is one image I can do without, so Sam and I sneak out through the door, giggling like children.
We retrieve the Mini and head back into Brighton, Sam dropping off into a doze and resting her head on my shoulder as I drive. I consider taking a longer route home to prolong the moment, but then worry that she might wake up suddenly and think I’m abducting her. When I eventually pull into her street, she stirs awake.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ she says, trying hard to conceal a yawn. ‘I’d invite you in for a coffee, but firstly you shouldn’t be drinking the stuff, and secondly, we’ve both got to get up early.’
‘No problem,’ I say. ‘I’ll be off now, then.’
She smiles. ‘So I’ll see you in the morning?’
‘As usual,’ I reply, but with a touch of sadness. After all, from tomorrow, it won’t be ‘usual’ any more.
As Sam gets out of the car, I hold out my hand, and she shakes it, rather formally.
‘Thanks again,’ she says. ‘I had a really nice time.’
‘Me too. Natasha throws a good party.’
‘No, I mean I had a nice time with you, Edward. You’re lovely company. I can’t see how Jane can fail to be charmed.’
‘You think so?’
Sam smiles again, and squeezes my arm. ‘I know so.’
Friday 15th April
7.54 a.m.
The morning sun glints off the sea as we jog down from the gym, turn right between the piers, and then as usual, pick up the pace along the seafront. For the first time, and in our very own Rocky/Apollo Creed moment, I manage to keep up with Sam on the final stretch, then out-sprint her to the bandstand.
As I dance around in celebration, my hands above my head, Sam chases after me and punches me playfully in the belly. I’m ready for her, and tense my stomach muscles to easily absorb the blow.
Sam raises her eyebrows. ‘Well, you’re done,’ she pronounces, as if she’s checking a pan of potatoes.
‘Thanks. And I couldn’t have done it without you.’
Sam shrugs. ‘You’re the one who did all the work, not me.’
‘Yes, but I don’t mean just for the physical side, if you’ll excuse the phrase…’
She smiles. ‘Don’t mention it. Oh, and before I forget, I’ve got something for you.’
As she reaches into her rucksack, I suddenly feel a little awkward.
‘There’s no need,’ I stammer. ‘I mean, I haven’t bought you anything…’
‘No—this.’ Sam holds out my front-door key. Not for the first time, I hope she mistakes my red face for effort. ‘And actually, yes you have.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘An hour a day, five days a week, for three months, at forty pounds an hour…You’ve bought me quite a lot, actually.’
‘Ah. Well, you’re welcome.’
As I do a couple of unprompted stretches against the metal railings, Sam comes and leans next to me. ‘So,’ she says. ‘Tomorrow’s the big day?’
‘Yup.’
‘When does she arrive?’
‘Early morning, I think.’
‘You think?’
I nod. ‘There’s only one flight a day from Tibet, and that gets in at seven. Seven a.m., that is.’
Sam whistles. ‘Early start.’
I smile. ‘I’m used to those now.’
‘Well, good luck, Edward. I hope you get what you want.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And remember to keep it up.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You know what I mean. The exercise.’
‘Oh. Right.’
‘And say hi to Dan for me.’
‘Will do. Assuming he didn’t drown in the Jacuzzi last night.’
‘And I hope Billy gets better soon.’
‘Yup. Me too.’
‘And do thank Natasha for me. Great party.’
‘OK. Sure.’
We stand in silence for a while, staring out at the sea, and then Sam looks at her watch.
‘Well, time is money, and the world is full of fat people waiting for their thin selves to appear.’
I pretend to be hurt. ‘You’ve already got someone else to replace me?’
She nods. ‘Easy come, easy go. But…’
‘But what?’
Sam leans in and gives me the briefest of hugs, before pecking me on the cheek. ‘But you’ve got my number.’
With that she smiles, then jogs away along the seafront.
For a moment, I have an insane urge to run after her, but manage to stop myself.
After all, what on earth would I say if I caught her?
1.21 p.m.
Natasha doesn’t appear in the office until lunchtime. Strangely, I haven’t been able to raise Dan on his mobile either.
‘Any messages?’ she asks, before she’s even sat down.
‘Er…no.’
Natasha stares anxiously at her mobile, and then picks up the office phone to check for a dial tone. ‘None at all?’
‘No,’ I say, thinking about Dan’s usual modus operandi, and wondering how this will affect my recent promotion. ‘Sorry.’
‘O
h, well,’ Natasha sighs, and puts the receiver back down. ‘Did you have a good time last night?’
‘Yes, thanks,’ I say, grinning at her. ‘Did you?’
She looks at me strangely. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Nothing,’ I reply, innocently. ‘I tried to find you to say goodbye. But I couldn’t.’
‘Oh?’ says Natasha, the merest hint of redness creeping into her cheeks, before she goes on the offensive. ‘You can’t have looked very hard.’
‘Evidently not,’ I say, thinking unlike Dan, and glad that Sam and I left the pool room when we did. ‘But Sam sends her thanks as well.’
‘Ah yes,’ says Natasha. ‘Sam’s lovely. Have you given up on Jane, then?’
‘No,’ I splutter. ‘Sam’s my personal trainer.’
‘So I could see,’ says Natasha. ‘And with the emphasis on the word “personal”, by the looks of things.’
I’m wondering how on earth to answer this, when something miraculous happens; the office phone rings, and when I pick it up, it’s Dan. I decide to feign ignorance.
‘Hello, Dan,’ I say, noting Natasha’s sudden interest. ‘What happened to you last night? I looked everywhere for you.’
‘Sorry, mate. I was…’ Dan clears his throat, ‘otherwise engaged.’
‘You pulled, didn’t you?’
‘Might have done…’
Normally this would be the cue for Dan to regale me with last night’s most intimate details. This time, however, he’s unusually silent. ‘Come on, what was she like?’
‘Er…’
I can see Natasha listening in from her desk, so pretend that he’s spilling the beans. ‘Oh, no. Really? That bad? She didn’t?’
As Dan starts to question my parentage, Natasha raps loudly on her desk.
‘Edward. No personal phone calls in the office, please.’
I place a hand over the mouthpiece. ‘That’s rich. All you ever do is make personal phone calls. Anyway, mate,’ I say back to Dan, ‘did you call just to brag about your latest conquest?’
‘No, I…Can I speak to Natasha please?’
I pretend to be surprised, enjoying the fact that Natasha is looking all flustered across from me.