by Jenny Oliver
Martin looked a little sheepish and said, ‘I would but I actually don’t have my driver’s licence on me.’
‘But you’ve been driving here.’ Julia frowned. ‘Don’t you have to have it with you? Isn’t that illegal?’
Martin nodded. ‘Probably.’
These people were so not Julia’s people. She’d once stolen a pot plant by mistake, her mother had handed it to her in the garden centre and she’d walked out absent-mindedly still holding it when they left. Her mother had made her go back in and apologise to the manager.
It occurred to her how narrow her world was. How safe. How filtered her opinions, how firm she saw the line between right and wrong. Not that she thought it was good Martin didn’t have his driver’s licence, just that he wasn’t living in fear that he’d forgotten it.
She thought of the people on Cedar Lane – all in their couples with their two kids, their extensions, their Honda Accords – all the ones at Lexi’s party anyway. All the normal ones. The weird guy who carried an empty Co-op plastic bag everywhere hadn’t been invited, nor had the renters with the four kids who you could hear arguing when you walked past their open window, or the students who didn’t pick up their dog’s poo, or the trendy hipster couple Lexi had ostracised as full of themselves after they’d politely declined to sign her petition against Sainsbury’s. It was a cherry-picked selection. An echo chamber of like-minded lifestyles and beliefs. Julia had never deemed herself narrow-minded before but suddenly she felt like she lived in a bubble. Her aspirations filtered constantly through the beliefs of a tight little section of the world that perceived itself normal.
‘I really will do it,’ Julia said, more defiant this time. ‘It’s fine. I don’t mind.’
Amber shook her head. ‘No you won’t,’ she said firmly.
They all stood in the street. The late sun filtering through the trees. Martin tapped his foot. Amber was looking over at the police garage, obviously trying to work out a way round things. Julia checked her phone.
Then Lovejoy sighed and said, ‘Come on then, I’ll get the van out,’ tone quietly smug, like he was the reluctant hero saving the day.
‘No,’ Amber shook her head, ‘I don’t want you to get it out.’
Lovejoy crossed his arms across his chest. ‘I’m getting the van out,’ he stated.
‘No,’ said Amber.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t want you to. Because you’re doing it to be superior, to teach me a lesson.’
‘No I’m not, I’m doing it because I’m a nice person.’
‘Oh please!’ Amber rolled her eyes, walking a few paces away. ‘You’re doing it to get back at me.’
Lovejoy made a show of looking confused. ‘How can doing you a favour be getting back at you.’
Amber glared at him. ‘You know.’
Lovejoy raised his hands. ‘Clearly I don’t.’
‘Pandora’s accepted my follow request,’ Julia cut in.
Amber immediately came over and took the phone. ‘Where are they?’
Julia took the phone back and clicked on the Instagram profile, on the latest picture, of Pandora walking down a narrow street lined with white houses and at the end an oyster shack, she was glancing over her shoulder, grinning all straight white teeth, like a movie star. ‘The hashtag is #lovingNoirmoutier.’
Julia showed Amber.
Amber studied the Instagram picture, then clicked on another on Pandora’s profile – one of Pandora and Billy on the plane, heads touching in a joint selfie.
She handed the phone back. Then she inhaled a deep breath through her nose and exhaled. She looked down at the pavement for a moment then back up. ‘Lovejoy,’ she said. ‘Could you please get my van out of the police station?’
They stared at each other.
Julia found she was holding her breath.
‘Yes, Amber,’ he said. ‘I can.’
Chapter Twenty-One
The police had done a half-hearted search of the van making the whole thing seem more, as Charlie had suggested, to teach Amber a lesson than anything else. They’d taken the passenger-side door panel off, clearly rifled through the glove compartment and had a cursory flick through their luggage. Some of the antiques had been dragged out and lay haphazardly strewn on the tarmac.
Julia watched as Amber repacked the boxes in the back, stacked up the mirrors she’d bought and tended to the taxidermy fox who’d taken a bit of a battering. ‘Arseholes,’ Amber muttered, stroking its fur.
Lovejoy stood watching, hands on his hips. ‘Next time just pay the fine.’
Amber glared at him.
‘So,’ he said, having a stretch then smoothing down his T-shirt, ‘It’s a two-hour drive to Noirmoutier. Shall we get a move on?’
‘Are you sure you want to come?’ Amber said, holding the keys, eyeing him warily. ‘Are you sure this is what you want because if you’re going to back out at any point—’
‘Amber,’ said Lovejoy, with a huff of exasperated annoyance, ‘you don’t get to call the shots anymore. I’m coming.’
Amber nodded, chastened. She chucked Julia the keys. ‘You’re safe to drive now, just avoid the police station on the way out. I’ll insure you on the way.’
Julia got in without a quibble. She felt a burst of adrenaline sitting behind the big steering wheel, high up, foot pressing down on the heavy pedals. There was fear as well, she’d never driven anything bigger than a Vauxhall Corsa.
Amber climbed in next to her, slamming the door hard.
As Julia was getting herself familiar with the gears and repositioning the rear-view mirror which she noticed with some trepidation was half obscured by antiques and reflected back just a grinning fox, Martin called from Lovejoy’s van, ‘It’ll be late when we get there. Where are we going to sleep?’
Amber rolled her head his way, and said laconically, ‘In the van.’
Martin made a face. ‘I’m not sleeping in the van.’ Then he thought for a second. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort something out.’
Amber warned, ‘Martin—’ but couldn’t finish because Lovejoy drove away, Martin with his phone in one hand, grinning and waving.
Amber huffed. ‘Right let’s go!’ to Julia.
And Julia immediately stalled the van.
Amber said, ‘It’s OK, take your time.’
Julia tried again, slower this time, and the van trundled out of the parking lot in the direction of the motorway.
They drove in silence. Amber clearly hated being driven. Being out of control.
As Julia kept safely in the slow lane, Amber said with antsy impatience, ‘Can you overtake this caravan, please?’
When Julia hesitantly pulled out. Amber muttered, ‘Drop it down. You need to drop it down a gear to get some speed.’
Julia gritted her teeth and tried to ignore her but after two more similar orders she suddenly pulled into a truck stop at the side of the road and slammed the brakes on. ‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘Stop it.’
Amber sat up with surprise.
‘I’m trying. Just don’t shout at me.’ Julia gripped the steering wheel.
Amber looked visibly startled. She shuffled herself back in her seat, readjusting her position and said, ‘Fine, sorry. I apologise.’
Julia did a nod. She rolled her shoulders back, flicked her hair off her face and indicated to pull out. And this time she found herself driving with more confidence. Pushing her foot down, overtaking a car that had overtaken her and then slowing down as soon as it got in front. She reached over and put the radio on. It was some terrible French pop song. Amber turned it up.
At the toll booth, Amber had to stretch out the window almost to her waist to get the ticket, ‘Can you get a little closer next time,’ she gently mocked.
They drove past patchwork fields and telephone pylons. The sun pale white on the horizon.
It was a comfortable silence between them. Amber had borrowed Julia’s phone and was doing a deep dive on Pandora’s
Instagram feed. Zooming in on the photos of her and Billy together. Looking at what they’d been up to on their travels before he’d discovered the news about his dad.
Julia glanced over, looked at Amber’s obsessive study of the minutiae of each picture. It was a pose that seemed so achingly familiar. ‘You were right, you know,’ Julia said.
‘About what?’ Amber replied, not looking up from the phone.
‘I do spend my time looking at Lexi’s Instagram,’ Julia said. ‘I do think her life is perfect and mine doesn’t match up.’
Amber sat back in her seat, chucking the phone into the cup-holder. She thought for a second, then she turned her head in Julia’s direction and said, ‘Do you know why they had their first summer party?’
Julia didn’t know. ‘Because it was a nice thing to do?’ she offered. ‘To show off their amazing house?’
Amber shook her head. ‘No. Because he had an affair.’
‘He didn’t?’ said Julia, aghast.
Amber nodded. ‘He did. It was with a woman called Eleanor from the tennis club – really slutty looking, nothing like Lexi. Everyone knew. There was a big showdown in the street. He was an idiot. Got found out because he parked his car outside her house every Wednesday.
Julia frowned. ‘That can’t be true.’
‘Oh it is,’ Amber replied. ‘Did you know the major giveaway of an affair, just for future reference, is suspicious car parking? Especially when it’s such a cliché of a car like a black Porsche 911 like Hamish drives. The party was a big show to everyone that they weren’t splitting up. Still is, I think.’
Julia was stunned. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Amber said, ‘There you go. Not quite so perfect.’
‘How did I not know?’ Julia asked.
‘Because she’s the greatest PR of her own life.’
‘God.’ Julia drove on, stunned. She gazed out at the traffic ahead, the low bridges, the signs to historic French towns thinking about all the stuff she’d done to impress Lexi and her gang. All the gloss she’d believed hook, line and sinker. There had been no moment when she’d considered what was on the screen or on show when she popped round wasn’t completely real. ‘I totally fell for it.’
Amber shrugged. ‘Yes you did.’
They carried on, Julia running through endless times she’d peered through her window at the goings on at Lexi’s house. Taken a screenshot and zoomed in on her Instagram stories to see what they were watching on TV and watch it herself. The conversations she had listened to about the best nurseries in the area, getting panicked about enrolment for a kid she didn’t even have. She had got so frantic. So embroiled in the myth. Then she remembered looking through her own Instagram feed, seeing the early photos of her and Charlie, naïve and fun. Relaxed and happy. She glanced across at Amber and said, ‘I think I’ve really lost myself,’ as they trundled along the motorway. The signs started pointing to Nantes as the sun began to blur in the late afternoon and rows of clouds like sausages filled the sky.
Amber looked away from the road to Julia. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve got so caught up in what I should be, I think, what I should be doing. Listening to Lexi. Trying to be better. To be somebody. All I think about now is having a more exciting life, better holidays, a swanky extension and— God everything like that. It’s so stupid.’
‘What did you used to think about?’ Amber asked.
‘I don’t know. Nothing. What I was going to have for dinner,’ she laughed. ‘I always wanted to be successful and I’d think about pensions and money and the future, but I think I thought of other stuff too. I think Charlie always used to really help me do that, to see the other side of life. The fun bits, the odd bits. And I’ve stopped listening to him in favour of people like Lexi. God, I’m so stupid.’
Amber sat up straight. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Christ, I don’t even have a pension.’
Julia slowed the van. ‘You don’t have a pension?’ she said, incredulous.
Amber laughed. ‘No.’
‘You should have a pension,’ Julia urged.
Amber waved a hand. ‘Oh who cares. It’s fine. Anyway I got shares in Fever-Tree on the recommendation of your dad. They’re probably as good in the long run.’
‘Not you as well,’ Julia sighed. ‘We were meant to get them and I never did.’
‘Well you have a pension so it’s OK,’ Amber said as if it didn’t matter. Then she turned to look Julia’s way. ‘You can’t have everything. You can’t beat yourself up about having one thing and not the other. No one manages to do everything.’
Julia looked ahead at the open road. ‘Some people do.’
‘Julia, you have a house and a nice husband and a good job, what more do you want?’ Amber asked, rummaging in the plastic bag of supplies for a Coke.
Julia thought for a while as she drove. She clutched the steering wheel as she pondered the question. ‘I suppose I feel that it’s me, that I’m not good enough. That I’ve lost myself somewhere, trying to fit in with Lexi, trying to make my parents proud…’
Amber took a swig of Coke and then put the can in the cup-holder. ‘Your parents are proud,’ she said. ‘They’re so proud.’
‘They think I could do better.’
Amber shrugged. ‘So what. Who cares.’ She threw her hands into the air. ‘They’re a different generation with different values and different ideas. They can’t change and you’re never going to change them, it’s a physical impossibility.’ She picked up the Coke and proffered the can to Julia, ‘You want some?’ she asked.
Julia shook her head.
Amber went on, ‘And the thing is with Lexi and her lot – they’re so busy trying to impress each other, trying to summon up whatever gossip they can to create some excitement in their lives, that they’ll never really give a shit about you. Unless you send texts about her husband,’ Amber added with a laugh.
Julia shook her head in despair. The embarrassment still stung. But then she thought about what Amber had said – about her parents, about Lexi and her pals. There was liberation in the idea of not caring. Of not buying in.
Amber put her feet up on the dashboard. ‘All that Cedar Lane lot, they’re all as bored as anyone. Christ, how boring must it be being a below-average Instagram influencer? Taking a million photos of yourself for not that many likes. And underneath it all, all the gloss, there’s nothing. Don’t you see that, Julia? There’s no kindness, no compassion.’ The afternoon sun flickered through rows of forest trees. They drove past fields of cows and little houses. Amber sipped her Coke. ‘What you have to change is the way you react to them. To everyone in fact. What they say has to mean less.’ She paused, turned her head to look at Julia. ‘You have to care less. Take me for example, I don’t care what anyone thinks, except Billy, but he’s my son and that’s my job. But I don’t want him to worry about what I think about him. I want him to be free, to enjoy his life. I’d be horrified if I found out he wasn’t happy because he was trying to please me. Are you sure you don’t want a Coke?’
‘I’ll have some water,’ said Julia.
‘Water coming up,’ said Amber, rummaging through the plastic bag. ‘And a packet of Monster Munch?’
‘OK,’ Julia laughed.
Amber opened the crisps and handed them to Julia. Then she opened her own bag. With her mouth full of Monster Munch she added, ‘I think you need to start focusing on your own opinion, Julia. Block out their noise. Pick what works for you. Like your dad’s knowledge of share prices. That Fever-Tree stock, wow! You did miss out. But you didn’t get any because clearly you were too busy panicking to see the good bits.’ Amber popped another Monster Munch into her mouth with a grin.
Julia considered it and nodded slowly.
Amber said, ‘What does your opinion say now?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Julia.
Amber laughed.
Julia smiled.
‘OK,’ said Amber, rearranging how she was si
tting, getting comfy, straightening out her yellow shirt and tucking her legs up underneath her. ‘Tell me what’s good about you.’
‘Oh I couldn’t do that,’ said Julia quickly. ‘I told you it was a nightmare on the management away-day. I couldn’t do it. My mind literally goes blank. I don’t know.’
‘Well think.’
Julia thought and came up with nothing. ‘It’s impossible.’
On the road signs, the name Noirmoutier started to appear.
‘Just one thing,’ urged Amber.
Julia thought then said, reluctantly, ‘I’m organised.’
‘OK, and…?’
Julia shook her head. ‘You said one thing!’
‘And now I’m asking for another,’ said Amber.
Julia thought again. ‘I’m quite clever, maybe.’
‘You’re very clever,’ said Amber, emphatic. ‘You’re kind,’ she went on, ‘you were especially kind to Billy. You’re patient. You care about other people.’
‘I sound really boring,’ Julia said with a laugh. ‘I want to be brave and cool and love taking risks. Like you.’
Amber rolled her eyes. ‘You don’t want to be like me, I promise.’ Then she added, ‘I think you’re brave.’
‘I’m not brave.’
‘What about all that at the police station. You impersonated Christine Miller, for God’s sake.’ Amber raised a brow. ‘You’re not only brave, Julia, you’re a bona fide criminal. If that’s not cool, I don’t know what is.’
Julia considered it.
Amber said, ‘And you’re funny.’
‘I don’t think I’m funny.’
‘Tell me a joke.’ Amber smiled as she swigged her Coke.
‘I don’t know any jokes,’ said Julia.
‘Everyone knows one joke,’ Amber replied. ‘Come on.’
Julia racked her brains, then she remembered one she’d heard someone tell at the office Christmas party that had made her laugh. ‘What’s a three-legged donkey called?’
Amber raised a brow, ‘I don’t know Julia, what is a three-legged donkey called?’
‘A wonky,’ Julia said with a chortle.
Amber gave a wry smile. ‘See, you’re marginally amusing.’