An email from Lex popped up.
What did you say, Joe?! It won’t get through my email filter?
I wondered, as I did several times every day, how much more productive I’d be without the constant dribble of anatomical emails from them both.
Meanwhile, I was trying to write the Celestia interview. Peregrine had roared with delight at the photos that morning, saying how much he liked them. I sighed and looked at the blank Word document in front of me. I wasn’t sure I could interview people about their dogs and their avocado cookery books much longer. All right, so I probably wasn’t going to leapfrog into a newspaper job reporting about the Iranian nuclear crisis from Posh! But I felt like I needed to start thinking about a new writing job. A more serious job. Where was I going to find that?
11
ON FRIDAY EVENING, LEX, Hamish, Joe and I were lying on the carpet in Bill’s bedroom, sardined between his bed and the wall. The rest of the surprise party were hiding in the kitchen, crouching behind various bits of furniture. Joe was balancing a bottle of beer on his stomach.
‘Joe, hold your beer, you’re going to spill it,’ I said bossily.
‘Can you relax?’ he replied.
‘What’s the time?’ asked Lex from his other side.
‘Three minutes to seven,’ said Hamish, craning his neck to look at the clock on Bill’s bedside table.
‘This is my sort of party,’ said Joe, yawning. ‘I might just stay here when he arrives.’
‘He’s going to know,’ said Lex. ‘Nobody in history has ever pulled off a successful surprise party.’
I could hear Willow hushing people in the kitchen and bridled slightly, but she had made a huge effort. Balloons all over the flat, birthday bunting strung across the kitchen, a bath full of Prosecco bottles and she’d shown us a Thomas the Tank Engine cake hidden on top of the fridge because Thomas was Bill’s favourite cartoon when he was little.
‘I’ve got a dead leg,’ said Joe.
‘I need a slash,’ said Hamish.
‘I want another drink,’ said Lex.
‘Guys, shhh, we’ve only got a few minutes. Lex, if you can’t go a few minutes without another glass of wine you need to go and see a doctor. Or a therapist.’
‘All right, all right.’
We lay in silence for a few minutes while there was more frantic hushing from the kitchen.
Then I heard Bill’s voice.
‘Hi, darling, I’m back.’
The clank of the front door closing.
‘SURPRISE!’ shouted everyone hidden in the kitchen.
‘We should get up,’ I said, as we remained motionless on the floor of his bedroom while more shouts of surprise and general celebrations went on in the rest of the flat.
‘Finally,’ said Lex, sitting up. ‘Who wants a top up?’
‘Me,’ said Joe and Hamish in tandem.
‘Yup,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘Come on, let’s go and be friendly.’
We shuffled out into the kitchen where Bill was standing in his suit, one arm over Willow’s shoulder.
‘You’re brilliant,’ he told her. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Really?’ she squeaked, gazing up at him.
‘Really,’ he said, smiling and kissing her. He didn’t mean it. I could tell from his face. It was a forced smile. The sort of rictus grin a small child might make in a school photo.
‘Please, you guys, get a room,’ said Joe, stepping forward and giving Bill a hug.
‘Happy birthday, you,’ I said, hugging Bill after Joe moved out the way. ‘Mum sends her love.’
‘How is she?’
‘Fine, fine. Well, you know. Some hair’s started to come out. But she’s all right.’
He pulled me back in for a hug. ‘Bloody hell, Pols.’
‘It’s OK, dude, it’s your birthday. None of that.’
‘Where’s the Dark Lord?’ he asked.
I rolled my eyes at him. ‘Driving down from Yorkshire, so I’m not sure if he’ll make it. He said it depends on traffic.’
‘Excellent.’
‘Bill,’ I warned.
‘What?’
‘You know what.’
‘I said “excellent”.’
‘Fine, come on, let’s get a drink.’
Lex and I topped up our wine glasses, Hamish and Joe grabbed more beer from the fridge and we all went to sit outside at the table. It was one of those Friday evenings when you sense summer around the corner – sunny evening light, birds chirruping merrily to themselves, the air thick with the smell of a neighbour burning some sort of sausage on a barbecue. All was well. All was excellent. All was… Oh, fuck. I spotted Callum through the French windows in the kitchen.
‘What’s he doing here?’ I whispered.
‘Who?’ they all asked.
‘Callum.’
Hamish swung round in his seat to look at him.
‘Hamish,’ I hissed. ‘Can you not? He’ll see you.’
‘He’s my mate. What’s wrong with him seeing me?’
‘He’s not my mate,’ I said.
‘Who’s Callum?’ said Joe.
‘The one who came home that time a few months ago,’ I said.
Joe looked blankly at me.
‘You know, who left in the middle of the night?’
He still looked blank.
‘You do know. The one who I gave a blow job to and who then got an Uber home because he had golf in the morning.’
Joe threw his head back and laughed. ‘Oh, that guy. He’s great. I miss that guy.’
‘You didn’t even meet him.’
‘Yeah, but I liked the sound of him.’
‘Classic Callum,’ added Hamish. ‘Such a lad.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Shall I go and say hello?’
‘No,’ said Lex. ‘Stay right here. He can come out to you. Anyway, when’s Jasper getting here?’
I looked at my phone. It was 8 p.m. ‘Dunno. Depends on traffic, he said.’
I looked into the kitchen again and caught Callum’s eye. Shit. I waved lamely. He grinned back and started moving towards the doors. Shit.
‘Joe, you are not to say anything embarrassing.’
‘Like what?’
But I didn’t have time to reply because Callum was already by the table.
‘Hello,’ he said, bending down to kiss me on the cheek.
‘Hi,’ I said in an unnaturally high voice. What was that about? Why was I being so awkward? I’d already had his penis in my mouth. ‘How are you?’
‘Great,’ he said, ‘all the better for seeing you. And you, mate.’ He reached over me to shake Hamish’s hand and then kissed Lex. ‘Hello, future Mrs Wellington.’
‘Oh stop it,’ said Lex, smiling at him. Traitor.
‘Do you mind if I sit?’
‘No. No, go for it,’ she said, gesturing at the seat beside her.
‘I’m Joe,’ said Joe, from across the table, looking at Callum as if my stern, protective father. ‘I live with Pols.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Callum, ‘not far from me then. I’m Shepherd’s Bush too.’
‘Sure,’ said Joe, still eyeballing him.
‘So what have you been up to?’ I asked Callum.
‘How’s your handicap?’ chipped in Joe.
Callum laughed nervously. ‘Ha. Well, yes, I haven’t been playing much golf recently. I got a new job.’
‘Nice one, mate,’ said Hamish.
‘Oh, congrats,’ I added. ‘In… I can’t remember what you were looking for.’
‘Sort of private security really. What they call K&R. Kidnap and ransom.’
‘Ooh,’ said Lex, sitting forwards. ‘That sounds manly and exciting. What does that mean?’
‘Mostly that I insure shipping companies and businesses working abroad. But in security hotspots. Africa, bit of the Middle East, that sort of thing.’
‘So you’re in insurance?’ said Joe, looking unimpressed. ‘You’re an insurance man.’
I tried to kick him and missed, thwacking my shin on the metal bar underneath the table instead.
‘Basically yes,’ said Callum, grinning at Joe.
‘But what have you been up to?’ said Callum, looking at me.
‘She’s got an incredibly rich and handsome boyfriend,’ said Joe.
‘Joe!’
‘What? You have. Bangs like a soldier of Rome,’ he went on.
‘JOE!’
‘Oh, come on, I can hear you. Those walls are like paper in our flat.’
‘Sorry about him,’ I said, turning towards Callum.
He looked uncomfortable, I was pleased to note. ‘Oh yeah, I remember. From the engagement party. A society playboy, or something?’
I opened my mouth to reply, to start saying that, actually, he wasn’t such a playboy as everyone made out. It was starting to annoy me, having to constantly defend Jasper. But Joe interrupted me.
‘Who wants another wine?’ he said, gesturing at our empty glasses. ‘I’ll go and get another bottle.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Lex.
‘No need. I can manage a bottle by myself.’
‘No. No, I’ll come inside with you,’ said Lex again, making a face at Joe. ‘And you, Hamish, come and help me open another bottle.’
‘Lex, my darling, you of all people don’t need help opening a wine bottle.’
‘Come inside now,’ she hissed at him.
‘Oh, right,’ said Hamish, getting to his feet. ‘Cal, mate, see you in a bit.’
They went inside.
‘So yes,’ I continued. ‘That guy… When I last saw you… He’s called Jasper. He’s coming in a bit actually. You’ll meet him. He’s better than people think.’
Callum had a swig from his beer bottle. ‘Good, I’m glad,’ he said after a moment. ‘Would he beat me in a fight?’
I looked at his muscly arms. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe, he’s quite tall.’
‘Oh, tall guys. I hate them.’ He grinned at me.
‘Ha. Anyway, what about you?’
‘Me?’
‘How’s your love life?’
‘Dreadful. The dating scene in London is like a warzone.’
‘You seem to quite like warzones.’
‘Sure, but they’re not much good for romance.’
I laughed again, then looked into the kitchen where Joe and Lex were watching us.
‘Do you mind if I just nip to the loo? Desperate to pee,’ I said, standing up. ‘You didn’t need to know that, did you?’
‘Hey, listen, we’re friends now. And friends share. Come back out and find me though.’
‘OK, will do.’
I dodged Lex and Joe and went straight to the loo because I was genuinely desperate to pee. I sat down and felt a bit dizzy. So, that was good. Callum and I were friends. Good friends. Pals. Pals who flirt a bit. But pals all the same.
I stood up and stepped outside the loo to wash my hands. Which is when I heard Willow next door in the bedroom.
‘We should have them round for dinner soon, you know. Just us and them.’
‘Maybe,’ came Bill’s voice in reply.
‘I think we should. I think it’d be fun. Oh, come on, just because you don’t like him.’
‘I don’t dislike him, I just don’t want Pols to get hurt.’
I dropped the hand towel.
‘You don’t know that’s going to happen,’ she said.
‘I’m not so sure. Men like him… Well, we’ll see.’
I was torn between wanting to stand and hear them prophesy more about my love life, interrupting them and saying, ‘Excuse me, can you let me worry about my own relationship?’ and worrying about being caught, hovering outside their bedroom. The fear about hovering won, so I tiptoed back to the kitchen, where Joe and Lex had put on an old Britney song.
‘Pols,’ shouted Joe. ‘Come on, join in.’
I smiled at them and nodded my head towards outside. ‘I’m good, I’m going to sit out here for a bit.’
Callum was still there, and smoking. ‘Oh perfect, can I have one?’ I asked.
‘Sure,’ he said, tossing the packet on the table. ‘Didn’t know you smoked?’
‘I don’t really. Just… every now and then.’ I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt rocked.
‘Help yourself.’
We sat smoking in silence for a few moments while I ran through the conversation in my head. So that was what everyone thought. That he’d get bored soon and that would be that. Not surprising, I supposed. Castle-owning future dukes weren’t supposed to end up with girls from Battersea. Even though we’d all been indoctrinated with Disney cartoons to believe it could happen. Fucking Cinderella.
‘What are you doing this weekend?’ said Callum.
‘Er, hanging out with my mum mostly, she’s not very well at the moment.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. With what?’
I exhaled smoke slowly into the evening air. ‘Breast cancer.’
‘Oh fuck, sorry again.’
‘Yeahhhhh. She’s had an operation though, so it’s just chemo now.’
‘Brutal,’ he replied. ‘My dad had it. Chemo, I mean.’
‘For what?’
‘Liver, it was a few years ago.’
‘And how is he now?’
‘He is no longer with us.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘No. No, don’t be sorry. It was a while ago, it’s OK.’
Sitting at Bill’s garden table, talking about this in the dusk, made me realize Jasper and I had never talked properly about Mum. That he’d never really asked. That any time I’d even mentioned cancer or her treatment had been because I’d raised it first. Bill always asked about her, even Lex probed me about it if she’d run out of wedding chat. But Jasper… not so much. Although I supposed he had his own family problems.
My phone suddenly lit up on the table. It was him.
Do you mind if we meet at mine? The M1’s been a nightmare.
I smiled quickly at Callum, then replied.
Course not. What ETA?
Half an hour or so. That OK?
I sent a smiley face emoji back.
‘The playboy?’ said Callum.
‘Yep,’ I said. ‘But bad luck, he’s not coming here. He’s been driving all day so I’m going to his.’ I’d never been to his house before. In two months of dating, he’d been weird about us ever staying there on the basis that Violet lived there and his parents stayed there when they were in London.
‘That’s a great tragedy,’ he said.
‘You guys are animals,’ I joked.
‘I don’t disagree,’ he said.
I went back into the kitchen, put my glass in the sink, and scanned the flat for Bill to say goodbye. I found him in the hall chatting to a girl I didn’t recognize.
‘Pols, this is Emma, one of Willow’s workmates. Emma, this is Polly.’
‘Emma, hi,’ I said, ‘so sorry, would love to stay and chat but I’ve got to run.’
‘You’re going? Already?’ said Bill. ‘I haven’t even talked to you properly yet. And there’s someone I want you to meet in the kitchen. Runs a news website. I thought you should chat to him. See if he needs any new writers?’
‘Sorry,’ I said coolly back, still raging about the conversation I’d overheard him having with Willow. ‘But Jasper’s just driven all the way down from Yorkshire so I said I’d go over to his.’
‘You all right?’
‘Yes, fine,’ I said. ‘He’s just exhausted so I don’t think he feels like a party.’ I could hear Joe and Lex singing Rita Ora in the background.
‘OK, go on then,’ Bill said, reaching for a hug. ‘But you owe me. Leaving your best friend’s birthday to… actually, I don’t want to think about what you’re leaving to do. Just go.’
I hugged him back briefly and left.
Jasper’s house was in South Kensington, one of those big London squares with private gardens surrounded by vast white houses with pi
llars outside. I squinted at my phone. He said forty-three. I hoped his parents weren’t there. Or Violet. I couldn’t face the Duchess walking in on me while I was on the loo. But I presumed that’s why I could stay here for the first time ever, because they were elsewhere.
‘It’s number forty-three,’ I told the driver, as we crawled along, looking at the odd numbers rising.
I got out and he drove off just as Jasper arrived in his Range Rover.
‘How was the drive?’ I asked, as he climbed out the car.
‘Bloody awful, but I’m here now,’ he said, kissing me.
‘Hi,’ I said, smiling at him when he pulled his head back.
‘Hello, madam,’ he said, his face still close to mine. ‘How many bottles?’
‘Not that many.’
‘’Course not. Let’s go inside and I’ll try and catch up.’
He fumbled in his jeans for his keys, then opened the door. The hall was bigger than my entire flat alone. White marble floor, black and white photographs, portraits of the family on the walls. And a lamp on a side table, switched on.
‘You’re sure your parents aren’t here?’ I checked.
‘I just left them in Yorkshire, so unless they’ve magically teleported here then fairly sure, yes.’
‘And your sister…’
‘Is also at home in Yorkshire.’
‘Can I wear my shoes?’
Jasper laughed. ‘Yes, come on. Get inside.’ I stepped onto the marble and he closed the door behind me. It even smelt expensive. Of silver polish and leather furniture.
I followed him along the marble and down a flight of stairs into the kitchen. It looked like the sort of kitchen you see in period dramas. Copper pans hanging along one stretch of wall above the oven. A huge fireplace. A long wooden table which would seat at least twenty footmen and twenty scullery maids.
Jasper swung open one of the cupboards to reveal a gigantic fridge.
‘Glass of white?’
‘Sure,’ I said.
He closed the fridge again and opened another cupboard to retrieve two glasses.
‘Have you ever actually lived here?’ I said, gazing round at the room. I was in awe. It was one of those superhouses you read about in the Evening Standard. The sort of house that cost thirty million pounds and had seven floors, a cinema room, three basements, a nuclear bunker and a pool.
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