‘I’ll probably be moving up later in the week.’ He was regaining control.
‘Really? You’re transferring your job?’
‘No, I’m going to take a sabbatical. I’ve got to clear it formally but I put the request in and signs are it will be approved. Then I’m going to rent a flat in London, and sort out my life.’ He laughed, unconvincingly.
‘I guess I’ll see you when you’re in London then.’
‘You bet you will.’
*
As I drove back to my flat and my life in London, I couldn’t shed the unsettled feeling that had taken root within me. I tried to concentrate on the fact that I would soon be seeing Joe. I felt sorry for George, I really did, but I was also looking forward to my own future. A future that up until now I never thought would include him.
Friendships changed, that was a fact of life. I can’t say how I would define my friendship with George had he not left me for New York. I don’t know if we would have been as close as we were, or if we’d have grown apart. But from the age of twelve, he was the single most important person in my life, that much I do know, and there was no way I was turning my back on him. The question of whether I still liked him was one which I couldn’t answer. Our first meeting after five years was too weird for me to talk about; our second consisted of him scaring me and crying a lot. I wasn’t certain that I knew George any more.
Chapter Seven
It was was the first day of the new year and I was going to meet Joe’s parents for the first time. We were a bit hungover, having been out with Lisa and Max the night before but we’d promised that we’d go to lunch, so we dragged ourselves out of bed, and cursing our stupidity, got ready to leave. Joe was far more nervous than I was, apart from feeling ill I was looking forward to meeting his parents. After all I was meeting the people who brought up the man I loved. I already adored them.
George’s parents had taught me from an early age that grown-ups are not all scary, alien beings. They’re just people. I quite liked talking to people’s parents, I found them interesting, I have never understood anyone being intimidated by grown-ups, I think they are far more afraid of us.
‘They don’t live in a big house,’ Joe said.
‘Sweetheart, for someone who is supposed to love me you don’t think much of me if you think that matters.’ I tried not to be angry, but Joe’s impression of me being posh was a little unfair to say the least and the implication that I was a snob (although of course I was a bit), annoyed me.
‘It’s not that. I know you’re not going to judge them, but I just want you to know what to expect.’
‘I don’t care if they live in a hovel, I still love them because they gave me you.’ We kissed.
I love to kiss, but especially I love kissing Joe. He has the best lips I’ve ever been near. I sometimes think our relationship is teenage, in the way we seem to ‘kiss each other’s faces off’. (I heard that expression on television once, I have no idea if it was appropriate but it was said by a teenager.) My mobile rang and interrupted the delicious kiss. I shrugged and answered it without recognising the number.
‘Holly, it’s George.’ I hadn’t heard from him since the day in the park. I had thought about calling his parents to check that he was all right, but something held me back.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked, as Joe helped me into my coat.
‘I’m better,’ he said.
‘That’s wonderful.’ Something about the tone in his voice set me on edge. It didn’t sound right.
‘I need to see you.’
‘Sure, when?’
‘Now.’
‘Impossible, I’m off to Joe’s parents’ for lunch.’ I mouthed the word ‘George’ at Joe. I had told Joe about George’s rejection, and he already knew about our friendship.
‘After lunch then,’ George said.
‘Look, to be honest George I’m going to be back late tonight, we’re spending the afternoon there.’ I didn’t want him to spoil my day with Joe.
‘It’s in your interest,’ he said. That took me aback. I know that things hadn’t been quite right between us since the kiss, but he was sounding like a second-hand car dealer.
‘I really can’t.’
‘OK, well tomorrow after work. I’ll pick you up from your office at six.’ Again, I was stunned. He sounded upbeat and assertive. The last time I’d seen him he was convinced his life was over, now he seemed ready to re-start. I just wasn’t sure where I came in. Joe stood by the door, looking gorgeous and impatient.
‘OK, I’ll see you there.’ I gave him my office address, hung up and forgot about him.
*
The village that Joe grew up in was incredibly pretty. It didn’t tally with him. Joe who drove a black Porsche and always wore black or grey grew up in a flowery haven. It seemed incongruous.
His parents greeted me as if they’d known me for years. I got the impression that his mum was quite relieved that Joe seemed to be ‘settling down’. He was only thirty-one but she made a few references to his age as if he was older and a confirmed bachelor. Luckily, she didn’t mention grandchildren. I didn’t get to meet his sister, whom I had heard lots about, but had apparently disappeared to her boyfriend’s for New Year’s Eve and hadn’t come back. She was only twenty and her brother and his new girlfriend weren’t of much interest to her. Or not as much interest as the new man in her life. His mother told me all about Hannah, so I felt as if I’d met her. She didn’t have Joe’s ambition or talent, her mum said, which seemed a bit harsh, and she hadn’t shown any interest in leaving home as Joe had done. I think Joe was her shining star, and every time she raved about an achievement of his (from his first swimming badge to his degree), she sparkled, and Joe got more and more embarrassed. I think he was more upset about his ‘cool’ image being thrown out by his doting mother than anything, which was highly amusing.
After a huge, perfect hangover lunch, Joe and his father cleared up while his mum showed me his baby photos. She was hilarious, really mumsy, whereas his father was fairly quiet, but liked to tell old jokes which made Joe cringe. We all went for a short walk after lunch, where his mother pointed out all the local places of interest: Joe’s school, Joe’s cub hut (really he was a cub), and Joe’s first girlfriend’s house. Then we headed back to London.
As we drove back I felt as if Joe was more than ever a part of my life. We went back to his flat, where we opened some wine and debated whether we should be gluttonous and have a take-away.
‘I’m not sure I should, I might get fat,’ I pointed out.
‘Then I’d have to dump you.’
‘How shallow,’ I pouted.
‘Well I have an image to uphold and you being a fat bird could seriously damage that.’
‘I am not a bird.’
‘No, you’re lovely.’
‘Are we getting really sad?’
‘I think so. I can’t stop looking at you.’
‘I can’t stop feeling warm.’
‘Holly, I love you, I really love you.’ It was time for another kiss. Which again was the cue for my mobile to ring. I not only ignored it, but switched it off.
Chapter Eight
‘Why do you hum when you’re happy?’ Freddie asked.
‘Because I’m happy.’
‘It’s extremely irritating.’
‘Thanks. Freddie can you update me on the latest Zoom proposal? Then I want a meeting with everyone to go over the state of all our accounts. New Year and all that, let’s start it efficiently. I think we’re on top of everything but I need to make sure.’
‘My God, happy but still bossy.’
‘Freddie, I hate to remind you that I am your boss. Can you rally the troops for after lunch, I’ll get Dixie to sort out a room.’
I went to check my e-mail. I had a number of e-mails from clients, to which I responded, and about twenty from George. It was confounding. I’d spoken to him the previous day. I had agreed to see him that evening. I was flummoxed by the
nature of his communications:
From: [email protected]
To: Holly Miller
Subject: Your phone
Why didn’t you answer your phone last night?
From: [email protected]
To: Holly Miller
Subject: Response
I would like a response.
From: [email protected]
To: Holly Miller
Subject: Response
HOLLY WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING ME?
There were ten more messages. He asked if I was ill, he asked if I was being a bitch, then said he’d called me at home and I wasn’t there so he was presuming I wasn’t ill. It was all incredibly tiresome and I didn’t understand. All I could think was that rejection by Julia had left him feeling very insecure, and I was his only friend in this city, so I was the only person he had for reassurance. I felt guilty. I responded immediately saying that my mobile battery was flat last night and that I had been in a meeting all morning (it was only lunchtime). I was unsure why I was lying to placate him but it was the easiest thing to do. However, George wasn’t going to be so easily fobbed off. He replied with a huffy e-mail asking me why I was being so uncaring. I replied saying I did care. How he had tied me in knots was beyond me, but he had. He went quiet for a while, I guessed he was sulking but eventually another e-mail arrived saying that he would give me the benefit of the doubt and that he’d pick me up from my office as arranged. As much as I would have liked to try to make sense of his erratic behaviour, and discuss it with Freddie, I had work to do. I put George to the back of my mind.
He was sitting in reception when finally I walked out at quarter past six. I knew he was there, but couldn’t quite get out on time. I ignored the funny look that the receptionist gave me as I took a deep breath and went to greet him.
‘You’re late,’ he said, thrusting a bunch of roses at me. Which did I address first, the accusation or the flowers?
‘Sorry, I had a last minute crisis. The flowers are lovely.’ I had no idea why he had given me roses, it set me on edge. George had never given me flowers in my life. And the anger, why the anger? I was beginning to tire of the situation, although I didn’t know what the situation was.
‘I’ve booked dinner at San Lorenzo,’ he announced.
‘Really?’ I was surprised, San Lorenzo was one of my favourite restaurants in the whole of London, but I rarely got taken there.
‘Come on, I don’t want to be late.’ He sounded terse. He took my arm, a little roughly, and started to lead me out. Then I heard my name being called. I turned around to find Freddie standing behind us.
‘Hi, I’m Freddie,’ he stuck a hand towards George.
‘He works with me,’ I explained. George took the outstretched hand and shook it.
‘I’d love to stop and chat,’ he said, sounding like he really wouldn’t, ‘but we’re late.’ I smiled weakly at Freddie as I followed George out.
*
George had always been in charge of our friendship. I firmly believe that in childhood friendships, someone is always in charge. George was the leader. He always decided what we were doing; I always agreed. I had become stronger and more independent after he left, more out of necessity than anything. Still, I found it hard in adult life to break the pattern, and even though we had been apart for five years and I was an intelligent independent woman, as soon as he came back I was thirteen again and following him around. Or that was what it felt like. Only this time I wasn’t so happy to be doing so.
We sat in silence in the cab. I had no idea what to say and he just stared out of the window. Although he looked much better than he had the last time I saw him, he looked too unemotional; trancelike even. I tried to see the streets we were passing through his eyes, but all I could see were the streets through my eyes and my eyes were filled with Joe. I gave myself a mental jolt: stop thinking of yourself and try to think of George and his broken heart. No matter how hard I tried it all came back to San Lorenzo (not a restaurant for the broken-hearted), his rudeness to Freddie, and the fact that I was sitting in a taxi, clutching a bunch of roses, next to a stranger. A stranger I had known forever.
It wasn’t until we were seated that George looked at me, properly. Then it was only to ask me what I wanted to drink. Before I had responded he ordered a bottle of champagne. That was it, I’d had enough!
‘What is this?’ I demanded.
‘What?’ he snapped.
Winter had entered the building.
‘You know, dinner here, champagne? George, last time I was with you, you were in pieces, and now I feel like we’re celebrating, although I have no idea what we’re celebrating.’
‘We are celebrating.’
‘What though?’
‘Us.’
‘Us? You mean our friendship?’
‘No. Holly, you’re a bright girl, so I am surprised that you haven’t got it yet. I’m almost disappointed that you haven’t got it yet.’
‘Got what?’ I was totally confused.
‘We are meant to be together, that’s what. Holly, you and I are meant to be and no one can keep us apart.’
I was stunned; mortified and stunned; rendered speechless. While my brain tried to process the information sufficiently for me to respond, George continued.
‘It makes perfect sense. You are the only person who has never let me down; I am the same for you. This whole mess with Julia has made me realise the truth. I guess you’ll realise soon enough that Joe isn’t the man for you...I am.’
‘George, this is absurd. The last time we met, when you wanted to make sure that Julia was the “one”, you said that you were sure that I wasn’t. I presume you remember all that “physical encounter” stuff? You said that you were one hundred per cent sure that Julia was the one for you, and I wasn’t. And to be honest, although I was angry with you, I agreed. So how come, now when you arrive back here, minus the fiancée, I am the woman for you all of a sudden?’ My voice was raised ever so slightly.
‘Holly, calm down. To be honest, I expected you to react like this, but that doesn’t change things. I guess I am just more enlightened than you at this moment, but don’t worry, you’ll come round.’
‘I will not.’ I stopped as I realised that my last comment was a little too loud and had drawn attention from other diners. I tried to compose myself. ‘George, you’re mad. I have Joe now and I love him. Just because your relationship didn’t work out, doesn’t mean that I am here to be your second-best.’ I had managed to keep the volume down.
‘You’re not second-best Holly, you’re the best. You’re the one, I know that now. I was just blinded by Julia’s physical qualities, but looks aren’t everything. You might not have her looks, or her success, but you are a much better person, a much better person for me.’
I cannot describe my feelings at that moment; they were disparate. But I do know that I had never been so angry in my entire life.
‘I am not,’ I hissed. ‘I am not anything for you. George we were friends, try to remember that, we were friends for years and years; best friends. You do not do this to your best friend.’
‘I don’t see why you’re upset, I am telling you that I love you.’
‘You don’t. For God’s sake George get a grip.’
‘Holly, no offence but as I said, I am further down the road to enlightenment, and I know you’ll come round. I do love you and I know that soon you’ll realise that you love me too. It will happen.’
‘You’ll have a long wait,’ I replied as I stood up and, discarding the opportunity of lovely food and drink headed for the exit.
‘Wait,’ George shouted after me. ‘You’ve forgotten your flowers.’
Walking out of the restaurant hungry and minus the flowers I hailed a taxi and headed home. My head spinning I tried to make sense of what George had said, but I couldn’t. In a short time so much had happened, too much had changed and I felt unbalanced.
I had an overwhelming desire to laugh. He had
propositioned me with the warmth of an ice cube and there was definitely a distinct lack of romance in his declaration. Obviously he had lost his marbles. We were meant to be together? I wasn’t yet enlightened? It was unimaginable. I knew that I didn’t want George, not in that way, not in any way now. I was more certain of that than of anything else. I just had to convince him.
Over the next few days I sought advice. Despite my resolve not to take it seriously, I wanted to know the best way to deal with the situation. I could have left George alone with his delusions, but knowing him, that wouldn’t work. Then there was Joe. Should I tell him about his love rival or not? Freddie told me that I should explain the situation to Joe straight away, Lisa told me not to tell Joe because George was obviously mad and hopefully would soon go away. Imogen told me that I should write a letter to George asking him nicely to stay away from me, and only if he failed to do so should I tell Joe. My mother said that it would be lovely if we did get together.
I was busy at work. We had some new business pitches coming up and the team were pushed to the limit. I needed to stay focused. I wasn’t going to let George ruin things.
At this point I took a wrong turning because I decided to ignore him. The day after dinner, he bombarded me with e-mails. I deleted them, barely glancing at them. Actually, Dixie, who declared herself bored, read them all and gave me the edited highlights.
‘Well, Holly, he’s clearly quite disturbed, he says that you are definitely the only woman for him and he loves you more than life itself.’ Dixie had been spending too much time with Freddie.
‘Thanks, why does that make him disturbed?’
‘Because you don’t feel the same.’
‘Oh, yeah.’
‘Anyway, he wants to see you again, he’s sorry if he shocked you with his declaration, but it had to be said. He’s visiting his parents this weekend and he wants you to join him. Says you could talk about old times.’
‘Well I won’t.’
‘Shall I tell him that?’
Deranged Marriage Page 6