by Anna Bell
‘You won’t be alone, I’ll be with you.’
‘Thank you,’ she says, clutching onto me and I’m worried for a second until I realise it’s only to give me a hug and not to squeeze the life out of me. ‘I almost wish I could have you there instead of Tim. We’ve always been there for each other, haven’t we?’
‘We have.’
‘And we always will be,’ she says. ‘Which is why I’ve got to tell you not to tell Aidan right now. The way he looks at you, Iz, I don’t think Tim has ever looked at me like that in thirteen years.’
‘That’s why I want to tell him. Becca was right; I shouldn’t keep secrets.’
‘Iz, don’t jeopardise a real relationship for a fake one. I think you’d be better off ending things with Luke than explaining it to Aidan. Imagine if you found out Aidan was staging photos of him looking all cosy with some other woman. Would you really believe that there wasn’t more to it?’
Her phone vibrates across the table and she scoops it up.
‘Hello,’ she says, answering it. ‘What the bloody hell do you mean you dropped your phone down the loo? Who the hell does that when their wife is in labour? Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, I’m having the sodding baby. Now get your arse back here and get me to the hospital!’
She hangs up and looks at her phone.
‘Did you hear him? He dropped it down the sodding loo. He went off to the Asian supermarket to find a giant bag of rice to put it in.’
Marissa starts to laugh and it sets me off too. It’s not long before we’re crying with laughter.
‘Oh shit, here we go again,’ she says, turning back round onto all fours.
‘You’ve got this. You’re a strong, independent woman,’ I say, rubbing her back. ‘You can do this.’
‘Oh. Fuck. Off,’ she says between deep breaths.
I give her a squeeze and I have to say I’m slightly relieved that Tim is on his way back as this is only going to get worse.
When the pain eases and she’s recovered, she sits up.
‘I’m actually having a baby, Iz. She’s actually coming out.’
‘I know, isn’t it exciting?’
‘I was going to say terrifying.’
‘Terrifying in a good way.’
‘What if I can’t do it?’
‘You can.’
‘But what if I can’t?’
‘Then I’ll be here and I’ll help you.’
I wrap my arms around her and she clings onto me. And I think for the millionth time in the last two and a half years how lucky I am to have her in my life.
Chapter 27
I glance at myself in the hotel room mirror and my sequinned dress catches the light. It’s perfect Christmas party attire. I perhaps wouldn’t have chosen to wear something so attention-seeking, but when a high street shop, whose clothes I often lust after but can’t quite afford, sent it to me for free it felt like too good an opportunity to miss.
‘That red really suits you,’ says Luke, handing me a glass of champagne.
Luke’s booked a room at the fancy hotel where we’re having our work Christmas do. He suggested that I use it to get ready so that we can snap some photos for Instagram when we’re done.
I’m jealous as the room’s gorgeous and I wish I’d done the same. I’m getting a taxi back to Cleo’s house with her at the end of the night where I’ll be sleeping on an air mattress on her floor.
‘Thanks, I feel like I look like Rudolph’s shiny red nose.’
‘It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to sparkle.’
‘I can’t believe it’s Christmas next week,’ I say with a tinge of sadness. The day seems to have crept up on me and I haven’t quite prepared myself for it yet. At least this year Aidan will be coming over and hopefully that will lighten the mood.
We still haven’t officially become a couple and I haven’t told him the truth about my fake relationship. Keeping it a secret isn’t any easier; it’s eating me up inside. I don’t entirely agree with Marissa about not telling him but every time I go to tell him, I think about Luke and the charity event and then I feel guilty that I’d be putting that in jeopardy. It’s a lose-lose situation. The only saving grace is that time is racing by and it’ll be Valentine’s Day before I know it and all this will come to an end.
‘I know. I’ve still got presents to buy. Including yours. What time do you want to come over on Saturday morning to do the big present swap?’
Luke and I want to spend Christmas Day with people we actually love so we’re filming our present swapping in advance, to post on the day when we’ll pretend we’re spending it together.
‘About 10?’
‘Great, sounds good to me.’
Hopefully that will leave me plenty of time to go and see Aidan after and take Barney on another walk.
I take a sip of my drink, wondering if it’s a great idea when I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch. ‘Ooh, that’s good. That doesn’t taste like a Lidl special.’
‘It’s a Taittinger special reserve. Sent by the compliments of Makayto to congratulate us on our engagement.’
‘Well, cheers,’ I say. The presents we’ve received have been amazing. We’ve got matching his and hers dressing gowns, a bespoke ring box that’s probably worth more than my imitation ring, embossed stationery and enough champagne to throw a pool party in Marbella.
‘They’ve offered to dress us for the wedding.’
‘I guess that could be handy if we wanted a space-themed wedding. God, could you imagine? We’d be in matching outfits.’
Luke fills my glass up; I didn’t even notice it was empty.
‘We should take these photos soon,’ he says, nudging me out of the way of the mirror so that he can pat his immovable hair.
‘What’s the rush?’
‘We want to take them of us when we’re still looking good and before you get sloppy drunk.’
‘I do not get sloppy drunk,’ I say, examining my glass that seems to be almost empty. ‘When have I ever been drunk around you?’
‘Um, the gin day? And the night we made gin cocktails.’
‘Well, those were an exception. I can be around alcohol and not be drunk. Look at the weekend away we had last month. I barely drank a drop.’
‘Because you knew it would have come straight back up. Come on, it’s just a few photos.’
‘Where should we pose?’
‘On the bed?’ he says, raising an eyebrow.
‘Nice try. Why don’t we go down to the lobby, we’re ready anyway.’
‘Fine,’ says Luke, grabbing his tux jacket and slipping it on before we head out.
We arrive in the bar and it’s a lot busier than it was an hour ago when I arrived to get ready. There’s a few people milling about who I recognise from work.
I always find work parties so strange. Everyone’s inhibitions fly out the window when they put on their swanky clothes. For those few hours everyone seems to forget that they’ve got to see these people again on Monday morning.
‘Ring,’ says Luke, pointing down at my finger. ‘You’ve got to have it on for the photos as people will notice.’
‘Really,’ I say, sighing. ‘Don’t you think people have better things to do?’
‘Not really. Haven’t you ever read any of the forums on Tattle Life?’
‘No,’ I say, ‘do they talk about us?’
‘Probably, I haven’t looked, but I’ve seen how they rip into everyone else.’
I shudder. I’m all for using the internet to connect with like-minded people but I hate the spitefulness that forums often breed.
I take the ring out of my purse and slip it on my finger.
‘Did you want a drink whilst we’re here?’ asks Luke.
‘No, I wouldn’t want to get sloppy drunk,’ I say with more of a slur than I’d intended. That champagne went right to my head.
He orders himself a beer and then carries it over to the corner where there’s a mirror and a fancy chandelier hanging low
. I’m sure he looks at the world through an Instagram lens as he’s always sniffing out the perfect spots to stand.
He pulls his selfie stick out of his pocket, attaches the phone and extends it out. It’s a sad state of affairs as I don’t even bat an eyelid.
We’ve got the whole routine down now. We pose in slightly different positions about ten times and then we peruse them, work out what modifications to make and usually go again for another ten. We’re like a well-oiled machine.
‘OMG, it’s you,’ says a young blonde woman. She’s dressed in a stunning aquamarine floor-length dress. ‘Luke and Izzy. O-M-G. Can I get a selfie with you?’
I’m so stunned that I can’t speak. Someone actually recognises us.
She pulls her iPhone out of her tiny clutch and plants herself in the middle of us. Luke proffers her his selfie stick which she gratefully accepts and she beams away.
‘This is so cool, so are you here for the McKinley event?’
‘Uh-huh,’ says Luke, he’s absolutely loving this.
‘I can’t believe they booked someone so cool. Are you presenting the Bake Off awards or doing the after-dinner speaking slot? I heard rumours they were having Tim Peake, but you two would be so much better.’
‘Well,’ says Luke, coughing. ‘Actually we turned down the speaking, thought it would be more fun just to take selfies with fans. You know.’
‘Oh I do, I can’t wait to post this,’ she says, looking down at the photo. ‘You’ve made my night.’
She totters back off to her friends and I look up at Luke.
‘We weren’t supposed to get recognised at work.’
‘What do you mean, this is great. By the end of the night we could be tagged in all sorts of people’s pictures. This is just the start.’
‘But this is our work, Luke. I didn’t want anyone to know about us – about the engagement,’ I say, holding up my hand to illustrate the point. ‘I can’t take it off now in case that woman sees, and if I keep it on, all my work colleagues will wonder what’s going on. This wasn’t supposed to interfere with our day jobs.’
‘It’s not like it has. For anyone that doesn’t recognise us we could just be a couple that met at work.’
‘This has gone too far.’
The room is suddenly starting to spin and I don’t think it’s from the fizz we’ve been drinking. ‘It’s one thing to pretend online, but in real life, I’m seeing someone.’
‘And didn’t I tell you that you shouldn’t?’ he whispers. ‘Look, I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset. Our plan’s working so well that we’ll soon be able to give up work. What does it matter?’
I can feel the knot in my belly growing. I’m looking around, paranoid who’s going to see us. My arms are starting to tingle from the heat as anxiety whooshes round me.
‘The important thing to do is relax. This is no big deal. Let me get you a drink,’ he says, disappearing off to the bar.
I pull out my phone and instead of looking at Instagram I pull up my photos and find one that I took of Aidan holding Marissa’s baby. Little Leah arrived twenty-four hours after Tim came home from the football and she is an absolute cutie.
Aidan was still at mine when she phoned to insist that we went to see her and something in me snapped when I saw Aidan holding the baby. Maybe I’d been brainwashed by the black-and-white Athena poster of the man with the baby in my formative years, or maybe it was my ovaries reminding me of their existence but something happened. I’ve accepted that Aidan and I are more than just ‘a thing’, I want him to be my boyfriend. After I sort out this mess with Luke of course.
Luke comes back and hands me a drink and I quickly put my phone back in my bag.
‘Cheers, to us,’ he says. ‘This time next year we might not have to be at a cheesy work Christmas do.’
My stomach sinks. I’m being offered the chance to ditch my ordinary life and become a real-life influencer, which I’ve desired for so long, but now that it’s happening, I can’t help wondering if it’s what I really want.
‘Ooh, bird, cooee.’ I hear Mrs Harris before I see her and I spin around and if she hadn’t spoken I wouldn’t have recognised her. She’s dressed in a mid-length black dress that goes in and out in all the right places and makes her look fantastic. Her hair’s got soft low-lights running it through it and it’s been blowdried all flicky at the ends.
‘Mrs Harris,’ I say, wolf-whistling. ‘You scrub up pretty well.’
‘Easy there, tiger, you’ll have to get in line. They’re already queuing round the block for me. And who’s this charming chap?
I think he might jump to the head of the queue.’
‘This is Luke, he works in Sales. Luke, this is Mrs Harris.’
Her smile drops into a more neutral expression.
‘You don’t work with Miles, do you?’ she says, practically spitting his name out.
‘Unfortunately I do, Mrs Harris.’
‘There’ll be no fraternising with the enemy, Izzy.’
‘But haven’t they already picked a winner – isn’t this just the grand reveal?’ says Luke.
Mrs Harris folds her arm over her chest and glares at him and he backs away slowly.
‘I’ll see you later on, Izzy. Good luck, Mrs Harris.’
She tuts and looks back at me.
‘He’s a bit dishy,’ says Mrs Harris. She loops her arm through mine as we go to the dining room. ‘You be careful, though. He looks pretty but he might only be after one thing.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, Mrs H, I’m in no danger of giving him that,’ I say.
‘I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about me. He might be trying to steal baking secrets for Miles.’
‘Oh, OK, I’ll prepare myself for that.’
‘You better had. Just keep your ears open for any questions he asks about me and my baps, OK?’
‘OK. Although you know your baps are often a talking point.’
‘I know,’ she says proudly. ‘Now I need a drink. Do you want one?’
I shake my head and raise the glass I already have. She walks off and I look around to see if I can see anyone I know and I spot Cleo and Colin walking into the bar. I give them a wave and they weave their way across to me.
‘Hello, hello,’ says Cleo, giving me a hug and leaning on my shoulder.
‘I take it the bar crawl went well,’ I say, looking at Colin who’s smiling away.
‘Certainly did. I can’t believe how busy it is out on a Tuesday night. Since when is Tuesday night a night to go out on?’ he says.
‘Tipsy Tuesday,’ I say helpfully.
‘It certainly is,’ he says, giggling. It seems that the little bar crawl has allowed him to find his voice.
‘Look at you, Mrs Harris,’ he says as she glides back over with a cocktail.
‘Don’t think you can flatter your way back into my good books,’ she says to him whilst trying to hide a little smile.
‘Wasn’t trying to,’ he says. ‘Bloody hell, Izzy, are you engaged?’
I look down at my hand.
‘What, um, no, of course not,’ I say, catching the eye of the women in the aquamarine dress.
‘It’s just how people wear them these days,’ says Cleo, flashing her hand where she’s switched one of her rings to her left hand.
I sigh with relief and give her a little smile of thanks.
‘You know that’s bad luck, don’t you?’ says Mrs Harris.
‘Oh, come on. It’s just another way that the patriarchy’s been controlling us over the years,’ says Cleo.
Mrs Harris gives a belly laugh. ‘Now I’ve heard everything.’
‘Who wants another drink?’ asks Colin.
‘Me,’ says Mrs Harris, raising her half-empty glass.
‘Don’t you think you need to slow down?’ I say, treading lightly; Mrs Harris doesn’t usually like to be told what to do.
‘Just calming my nerves.’
‘OK, but remember you’ve got to cl
imb up on the stage when they announce the winner and potentially make a speech if you win.’
‘What do you mean potentially?’ she says, outraged.
‘Sorry, when you get up to make your speech.’
‘I’m just settling my nerves. I’ll be fine. Perhaps I’ll just go and touch up my make-up. There’ll be calling us in for the big announcement any minute now.’
It’s probably a good thing that they’re crowning the Great Office Bake Off champion before dinner as I’m pretty sure Mrs Harris would have polished off the whole table’s wine allocation through nerves if it was after.
The dining-room doors are opened and there’s a call to be seated. There’s an excited chatter going round the room about who’s going to be the victor and I realise that we’re all going to miss the drama from the competition.
‘Are you coming?’ asks Cleo.
‘I think I’m going to wait for Mrs Harris.’
‘OK, see you in a minute,’ she says, going in with Colin.
‘Waiting for me?’ says Luke, sidling up to me.
‘In your dreams,’ I say, laughing.
‘If you only knew the starring role you’ve had in many of my dreams,’ he says, winking.
‘You two are just the cutest,’ says the woman in the aquamarine dress, walking past us again. ‘I can’t wait to see your wedding pictures.’
She waltzes off and I look up to see Luke beaming. I know Luke always dreamt of being recognised but I never really imagined what it would be like. It feels weird having my virtual and real lives merging and to no longer have my phone to hide behind.
‘You better go, Mrs Harris is coming,’ I say, shoving Luke away.
He gives me a kiss on the lips as he goes and I’m left in shock.
‘Mistletoe,’ he says, pointing above my head at where I’m standing and I sidestep away from it and walk up to Mrs Harris.
‘It’s nearly time for the announcement,’ I say, clapping my hands together. Finally the sodding Great Office Bake Off will be over.
She smooths down her dress before patting at her hair.
‘Mrs H, are you OK?’
‘Fine,’ she says through deep breaths. ‘Never been better.’
She doesn’t look fine.