‘… I remembered it was your Father’s Second Wedding today. I thought you’d find it hard so I thought I’d call. I love you darling! And hope it went gorgeously well, darling. Call Mummy tomorrow. I guess you’re not back yet. I’m at Dick’s! We’re having cocktails with Vance and DJ! Oscar sends love! Come visit New York soon darling, I miss you.’
There was thirty seconds more of background chatter, then silence.
‘She’s mad,’ said Charly. ‘God, your parents are both mad.’
‘She’s not mad,’ Kate said. She wasn’t in the mood for Charly’s needling. She took a sip. ‘She’s just a bit – well, she’s a bit tipsy for starters, it is Dad’s wedding day after all …’
She shrugged her shoulders slightly helplessly, trying to work out how to explain her mother to a stranger, how you could love someone who brought you up and then abruptly left you, whom you honestly believed loved you more than anything, but who was capable of just shutting you out when she wanted. Still, she was the only person, other than Zoe, who could understand what today had been like for her, Kate. Suddenly Kate missed her desperately. She knocked the sweet, viscous liquid down her throat in one go. It had been a long day.
‘God,’ she said. ‘I’m knackered, I might –’
Suddenly there was a noise in the hall, and Charly screamed. ‘Shit!’ She jumped. ‘Oh my god! The door’s open! Who the fuck’s that –?’
Sean appeared in the doorway.
‘What the fuck?’ Charly demanded. ‘How did you get in? What are you –’
She looked at Kate, accusing.
‘I left the door on the latch,’ Kate said. ‘He’s staying tonight, hope that’s OK.’
Sean had gone via Zoe and Steve’s to collect a laptop that needed looking at. Kate could have sworn she’d mentioned to Charly he’d be coming round. It wasn’t that much of a shock, anyway, for God’s sake. He was round the whole time.
‘Hi,’ said Sean, unperturbed.
‘Oh,’ said Charly. She stared at him, disdain so clearly written on her face that Kate withered with embarrassment at her. ‘That’s fine.’
She stepped forward, and Kate thought she was going to leave, but then she reached for the bottle. ‘Have a drink,’ she said. She filled her glass and handed it to him, biting her lip as she did, staring up at him again.
‘That’s OK.’ Sean waved his hands at her. He looked down at Kate, on the sofa, and came over, crouching down. He ran his hand lightly over her stomach, pushed her hair back, kissed her forehead. ‘Big day today. You tired, babe?’
‘Yes,’ Kate said.
He shook his head at her and mouthed, ‘No’. Kate sat up.
‘I’m going to bed,’ Charly announced, and put her drink down, hard on the table. ‘Night, Kate.’
‘See you tomorrow,’ Kate said, still looking at Sean.
‘God, she’s a bitch,’ said Sean, and he kissed her, pushing his tongue insistently into her mouth. ‘Why’s she such a bitch?’
Kate pushed him away, bit his ear, wanting to bite all of him, eat him up. ‘She’s not,’ she said softly. ‘She’s just –’
Sean’s hand was inside her dress, on her breast, touching her. ‘You’re gorgeous, babe. Kate …’ he trailed off, then said, as an afterthought, ‘She needs a man. She needs a good fuck.’
Hazily, as he stroked her, as he kissed her harder, undid her dress, pulled her up, Kate thought of the stream of men, mostly unknown to her, who appeared in the sitting room the morning after a night with Charly. Spanish exchange students. Burly plumbers. Posh, polite boys. Angry, surly men from the magazine, who lusted after her for ages and realized they’d been used and were about to be blanked. She often ran out and left them. Kate had to make them breakfast.
‘She doesn’t, believe me,’ Kate whispered. ‘But …’
He pulled her into her room, and Kate knelt on the bed, and he pushed the door shut, violently. His eyes were glazed, slightly impersonal almost, and Kate realized they were both a bit drunk.
‘I wanted to ask you something,’ Sean said suddenly. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while.’ He bit her shoulder. ‘Oh Kate …’
‘What?’ said Kate, looking over the room to where a pile of clothes lay. She ought to tidy them up. God, it was huge, and she didn’t even recognize half the clothes in it. She was tired, she wanted to sleep, and she knew that was a bit crap. Venus had a problem page, but it didn’t have the answers to the problem of when you were a bit exhausted and not in the mood for it.
‘Dear Marie. I love my boyfriend, and we’ve been together for three years, and honestly I can’t imagine life without him, but you know sometimes you just can’t be bothered to talk to him and you don’t want to have sex with him? Is that normal? Does that make me a terrible person?’ No, Venus went more in for the answers to questions like ‘Dear Marie. I’m thinking of getting my clitoris pierced. Do you have any safety dos and don’ts?’
‘… marry me?’
‘Hm,’ Kate said, still chewing her lip and looking at the washing. Damn it, half that pile of clothes was Charly’s! Lazy bitch. Kate sighed crossly.
‘Kate, are you listening to me?’ Sean said, pulling away from her and staring at her.
‘Oh …’ Kate blinked. ‘Yes, yes of course I was.’
‘Were you really?’ he said, smiling kindly at her. ‘I don’t think you were, were you? What did I just ask you?’
‘Um …’ Kate said. ‘Something about the wedding?’
‘Kind of,’ Sean said. He rocked back so they were both kneeling, facing each other on the bed. He took her hands and clasped them. ‘Kate. I just asked you to marry me.’
‘What?’ Kate said, her eyes flying open. ‘What did you just say?’
Sean coughed, and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath; she saw he was shaking.
‘OK … I said, you silly, gorgeous girl, will you marry me, and make me happy, and carry on being crazy shy beautiful Kate with me for the rest of our lives?’
‘Oh – my god,’ said Kate. ‘Oh my god – Sean …’
She clutched his hands tightly, staring into his face. It was weird, she thought. Every girl spends their whole life wondering what their proposal will be like, and when it comes … it doesn’t feel like a proposal, like the most amazing moment of your life. It just feels like … well, two people having a bit of a casual chat. Perhaps she should get Marie to do a column about it in the next issue of Venus. ‘How it feels when it feels a bit underwhelming.’ Of course, it wasn’t underwhelming though. It was Sean, of course it was the most amazing moment of her life, so Kate leant forward, leant in towards him, and she kissed him and said,
‘Yes. Yes, darling. Of course I will.’
He sighed, breathing out deeply, and she realized how tightly wound up he was.
‘I talked to your father just now,’ he said. ‘Caught him before he went off with Lisa.’
‘I bet he was grateful to you, holding up his wedding night,’ said Kate. Sean frowned.
‘Hey! Don’t. I knew I wanted to do it today, you know?’
‘Oh, Sean,’ said Kate.
‘I saw you … you and your dad, talking to him, and you looked so beautiful, standing there with a glass in your hand, being yourself, your amazing self and I was so proud of you,’ he said, his eyes burning with emotion, liquid with unshed tears. ‘Kate, I knew I was gonna do it. Your dad was hilarious.’
‘I bet he was,’ said Kate. She was trying to picture herself as the girl Sean had watched and to whom he had known he was going to propose. She had felt like a stranger in someone else’s life all day, and it was strange that he had felt the opposite. But then, she knew that was how she and Sean worked, that he made her feel part of the world, less of a loner, a fruitloop. He showed her the life she should be having, opened the door to things for her, and she loved him.
‘Is that what you came here tonight to say?’ she said, almost shyly, not knowing what came next in situations like these.
‘Well – yes,’ he said, speaking softly into her hair. ‘Of course it was. And now it’s done. All over.’
All over, all done, of course.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
September 2003
Kate didn’t want a big white wedding. She was pretty unsure about the idea of receptions, cakes, big pouffy white dresses, and all that, in general. And she certainly hadn’t wanted an engagement party, but Sean had been really keen.
Afterwards, neither she nor Sean could remember why they had selected a bar on a cobbled side road off Old Street, clear across town from a) their respective flats b) their friends’ flats c) where they went out d) everything else. But at the time it seemed like a good idea, the upstairs room of a bar-cum-pub with new dark shiny floorboards, fuschia flock-patterned wallpaper on one wall only, a steel and glass chandelier and a host of stroppy, Hoxton-fin-wearing bar-staff who were anxious to let you know that, actually, they were really training to be an actor/studying film/doing a degree/recording an album. They did this by looking askance at anyone who ordered a drink and by loudly dropping names to each other as they turned to the wall to make the drinks.
‘They said it was like Almodóvar.’
‘I’m meeting this guy who knows this girl Pam who worked at the National Film School.’
‘Apparently it’s too meta-textual. Yes, what do you want? A mojito? We don’t actually do cocktails. Have a look at the bar list please.’
Kate was wearing emerald green silk T-bar shoes, which were making her uncomfortable but happy, and a caramel-brown silk shift dress with huge pockets at the sides, which Juliet, the fashion editor at Venus, had been sent the day before. She’d given it to Kate, with a kiss. ‘Wear it tomorrow!’ she’d said. ‘It was made to be worn, not hanging around our sample cupboard for weeks on end. Come on! It’s your night.’
As she waited to be served at the bar, Kate thought of how kind Juliet had been, how kind everyone was, and she looked around her, at the crowded room, humming and buzzing with people she loved. There were Zoe and Steve, Betty, Francesca, Bobbie, Jem, and her old gang from Woman’s World, Sophie and Jo and George, in a corner with Charly who was holding court, and Sue Jordan and her husband Alec, and all the lovely new people from Venus, Claire and Juliet and Tom – even Priscilla was being nice. Perhaps it had been a good idea, after all.
But she hadn’t wanted all the attention. They had decided they weren’t getting married for at least a year, until they’d found a place and Sean had left his job and found something better. On the subject of the party, Kate had ummed and aahed through the summer, through all her friends’ congratulations, as other things took precedence. Sean had rung his mother in Texas about her engagement ring, which he wanted to give Kate. Zoe had her baby, Henry, always known as Harry, and she and Steve bought the flat upstairs, meaning they owned a House, and had a Baby, both of which were great, but really scary. Betty got a job in New York, and had a leaving party, which took the pressure off Kate, she’d thought, except everyone at the party sided with Sean and kept saying, Why aren’t you having an engagement party?
Then Sean was given the perfect piece of ammunition because, in early September, Venetia rang, and announced that she and Oscar were coming to London in a couple of weeks. One of Oscar’s musicals was transferring and they were spending a month in town. Was she having a party, because then would be the perfect time?
So … they were having the party. And now here they were, together again – and Kate never got to say this word, it was weird, rolling it around in her head – her parents. Her father and Lisa, her mother and Oscar, and it made her love Oscar more than ever that he, normally content in the shadow, was taking the conversational lead, gently flirting with Lisa, his hand always present on Venetia’s back, just letting her know he was there.
Lisa was laughing at something Oscar had said, sliding her fingers carefully between the blow-dried locks of hair that framed her face, when Daniel leant forward and said something to Venetia, in a low voice. Kate watched, absolutely fascinated, as Lisa caught Daniel’s hand and held it behind her. He clutched it tightly. But he was looking at his ex-wife, and she at him, and they were smiling into each other’s eyes, like a couple of teenagers.
Kate hadn’t seen her mother since she and Sean had visited her in New York, just before she’d started her job at Venus. She always forgot how beautiful Venetia was. She didn’t look anything like Kate, despite Oscar’s frequent avowals. ‘You could be sisters! Sisters, I tell you! Venetia, I can’t believe you have a grown-up daughter!’ It was true that Venetia looked much younger than her ex-husband, however – but that was because she was, and it shocked Kate to see them next to each other, to realize just how big the age gap was between her parents, how young her mother must have been when she married her father.
The last time Kate had seen her parents together, was on her fourteenth birthday.
She leant on the bar and felt very grown-up, for a moment, as she watched them. It was strange, thinking they were her parents, when it had been so long since she’d thought of herself as part of a family, member of a unit. Very strange. It made her feel funny; like she didn’t know herself again.
She looked around for her fiancé – what a weird word, again, all these weird words she was having to say, parents and engagement and fiancé – and found him, in the corner of the room, laughing loudly with his buddies, in that trumpeting way men in groups have.
His eyes met hers and she looked mock-annoyed with him, then shook her head as he waggled his fingers, motioning something and mouthing, ‘Do you want me to come over?’ But she was quite happy here, she realized, standing on her own, at the corner of the room, relatively unwatched, anonymous, for a few moments at least.
‘Yes, what can I get you?’ An unsmiling barman flicked a glance at Kate, jolting her back to reality.
‘Did you just tell someone you weren’t doing mojitos?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ The barman looked hugely, hugely annoyed to be so questioned in this manner.
‘Um – sorry. You’re supposed to be,’ said Kate. ‘When we booked the room they told us we could have three different cocktails. That was one of them.’
The black-haired Hoxton-finner didn’t blink. ‘We can’t do them now. It’s just beer and wine.’
‘But we paid for free cocktails for everyone.’
‘Well, there isn’t any.’
‘Any what?’ said Kate, staying calm.
‘Mint?’ he said, a sneering tone in his voice.
Kate turned so she was facing him, and rested both her elbows on the bar. ‘Here’s the booking confirmation, and here’s my credit card,’ she said, and she smiled politely at him. ‘I’m sorry if you don’t have any mint, but either go out and get some, or give me the deposit back. Otherwise I’ll go downstairs and talk to your manager.’
He didn’t even snarl, he simply accepted the will of the greater force, in the dog-eat-dog world of new London, turned, and went downstairs. Kate breathed out, and wished he’d got her a drink before he left.
‘My god,’ said a voice behind her, in an amused tone. ‘Look at you. Who the hell are you?’
Kate froze. She knew that voice. She would know it anywhere.
‘Mac!’ Kate said, with genuine pleasure. She stood on tiptoe, flung her arms around him, and he hugged her, tightly. She could feel her heart, hammering in her chest, as he clutched her to him, briefly. She hoped it wasn’t obvious. Don’t be flustered, she told herself. You knew he was coming.
‘Hey,’ Mac said, releasing her and stepping back. ‘Thanks for letting me come.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’d booked the flight already, didn’t realize it was tonight – you know.’ He looked awkward.
‘Don’t be silly!’ She smiled at him, assuming the easy, carefree note she had told herself she was going to adopt with him. It was easier that way. ‘You’re staying with them, you could hardly have just sat in by yourself with Harry and the babysitter.’
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‘I could have, actually, he’s with my parents, they’re the babysitters,’ he said. Kate watched him as he spoke. ‘God, how on earth are you, Kate? I haven’t seen you since – when was it?’
‘Since the wedding,’ she said. ‘Nearly a year.’
‘We only seem to meet on momentous occasions,’ he said. ‘Housewarming-cum-engagement parties, weddings – and now look what’s happened since I’ve been away.’
The bartender took this opportunity to appear again, slamming a mojito down on the counter with an injured air.
‘Mint’s on its way, I’ll add it in a minute.’
‘Thanks,’ said Kate. ‘Thank you very much.’ She smiled politely at him as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Cheers,’ she said, turning to Mac and raising her glass. He clinked it with his own, looking curiously at her.
‘The Kate Miller I used to know would never have done that,’ Mac said. He leaned against the bar so he was facing her. He touched her arm lightly. ‘The Kate Miller I knew hardly used to say boo to a goose.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Kate, and she laughed. ‘The Kate Miller you knew you knew for one night.’
‘That’s not true. We spent the morning together as well, if I remember rightly,’ he said, conversationally. Kate looked around, anxiously, not wanting anyone to hear. He followed her gaze and shook his head, smiling. As if he knew what she was thinking.
He had no idea, really though. No idea how, when she had heard Mac was down in London for the weekend, this weekend, and had to be invited to the party, how it had shaken her to know he’d be there on this night, the very night she’d resisted having for months. He had no idea that she sometimes thought of him, late at night, lying in bed alone when Sean wasn’t there, or when he was next to her, breathing heavily, moonlight falling into her tiny bedroom. That she wondered how he was, was he OK, was he happy, not working too hard? Strange, so strange, to feel such tenderness, protectiveness, towards someone you hardly knew. She wondered what might have been. Not every day, of course not … but she wondered. And he had no idea, she hoped, how it felt to see him standing in front of her now, tall and rangy, with his cropped brown hair, his bitten nails, his deep green eyes.
The Love of Her Life Page 20