Keep Your Friends Close

by Janelle Harris

  I can barely breathe as I scurry back into the house.

  ‘Jinx. Here, boy. Oh Jinx, please,’ I shout, rushing into the utility room to check his bedding.

  My heart squeezes and I hate that I’m not surprised when I don’t find him there. I know. I hate that I know. But still, I keep searching.

  ‘Jinx. Jinx. Jinx.’

  I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth over and over, making the clicking sound that always catches his attention, and I hope that my fluffy little puppy will come bounding through one of the open doors. But he doesn’t.

  I’ve no idea how long I spend running from one room to the next, throwing cushions and throws off furniture. When I struggle to catch my breath and I’m beyond exhausted I finally give up. I know where Jinx is. Deep down I know.

  It’s hard to drag myself back into the garden. And the damn window has started banging again, but I don’t care if the glass breaks or not. My legs and arms are weak and ache and I know I’ll need to lie down soon. My heart is pounding as I choke back tears and slowly approach the mound of disturbed earth. I flop on to my knees next to it and I barely make a sound as fat, salty tears trickle down my cheeks.

  ‘I’m sorry, boy. I’m so sorry.’

  I cried for months after my parents died. For days on end at first. And, in the months and even years that followed, every now and then something would remind me of them and my heart would break all over again. My mother’s favourite song would come on the radio and I would break down, because I could remember how she loved to sing, but it was becoming harder and harder to remember the sound of her voice. When I was little I wanted to be a dancer, the type onstage, flipping and doing the splits in the background as a superstar wowed the crowd with their latest track. But my father always warned me that I’d never have money working for someone else. I know I have him to thank for my drive and determination, and if Darcy’s Dishes becomes a global success with Gillian’s investment, I know I have my parents to thank. I often think about how much they would love Luke and I really wish they’d had a chance to meet him.

  That’s what makes crying so hard now. I’m so consumed with anger, and it’s directed at Luke. How could he let this happen to Jinx? How could he? He promised he’d take care of him. He promised.

  I must have spent hours in the garden. And I’ve definitely fallen asleep, because when I look up the sun is shining blisteringly bright overhead in a cloudless sky, and my arms and shins are red and stinging where my fair skin has been exposed to the July sun. I know I should go inside out of the heat. But before I do, I pick some of the wild white flowers that bloom in our hedging in the summer and press them into the freshly turned soil. They look almost withered straight away, but it’s the best I can do for now. I’ll go to the shop later, when I’m steadier on my feet, and buy some roses for my puppy’s grave.

  Time seems to pass in slow motion, and it doesn’t help that Luke is late home from work. I meet him at the front door, hearing the sound of his key turning slowly in our stubborn lock.

  ‘When were you going to tell me?’ I snap, as soon as the door creaks open.

  Luke stares at me with surprise. ‘You’re downstairs.’

  ‘He’s gone, Luke. Jinx is gone.’

  I hear Luke exhale as he steps inside and closes the door behind him. ‘He is.’

  The sobs that I held back earlier begin and Luke wraps his arms around me.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I say.

  Luke gives me a moment to cry, before he guides me towards the kitchen with one arm still draped over my shoulder.

  ‘He didn’t feel any pain, honey. If that helps.’

  ‘If that helps?’ I hiss.

  Luke pulls out a chair from the table and I’m glad. My legs are really wobbling now and for some reason I don’t want him to notice. I sit. Luke doesn’t speak as he fills the kettle with water and flicks it on.

  ‘Tea?’ he asks.

  I shake my head.

  ‘Darcy, you need to have something. Look at you. You’re shaking like a leaf.’

  My eyes narrow and I glare at my husband.

  ‘You’re in shock,’ Luke says, calmer. ‘You need some food and something to drink.’

  ‘I need Jinx.’

  ‘I know. I know,’ Luke says, edging closer to me and gently stroking my hair.

  ‘Why didn’t you take him back to the vet?’ I ask, struggling to keep the resentment out of my voice. If I wasn’t pregnant, if Luke hadn’t accidently got me pregnant when I was always honest about not wanting kids, then none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be confined to my goddamn bed so often and I’d have been downstairs taking care of Jinx.

  Luke makes tea and I hear him sigh often over the stirring of the spoon and the pouring of almond milk. I don’t usually take milk in my tea but the doctor freaked out when he heard I was vegan, suggested all these supplements, and Luke has made it his mission to balance my diet with all these new dairy substitutes that taste gross, if I’m honest. But he’s trying hard and I’ve just sort of gone along with it to appease him.

  Luke places a cup of tea in front of me, and I realise he hasn’t made one for himself.

  ‘C’mon,’ he says, trying to smile. ‘Drink up. It’ll help.’

  I take a reluctant sip and it tastes worse than usual. Horribly sour as if the milk is gone off. I put the cup down and pull a face and Luke seems instantly offended. But right now I don’t care. I direct the conversation back to Jinx.

  ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ I say. ‘Why didn’t you take him back to the vet?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t want to worry you.’

  ‘Didn’t you think I’d want to spend time with him? Hold him, at the very least.’

  Luke shakes his head and sighs. ‘Darcy, drink some more. You’re very pale. You’re worrying me.’

  ‘No,’ I snap, pushing the hot cup further away from me. ‘I can’t believe you let this happen.’

  Luke drops his head and stares at the table. ‘There was nothing they could do,’ he says. ‘He was just too sick. They had to put him to sleep.’

  ‘What?’ The pounding in my temples is intense. ‘You had no right to make that decision without me. No goddamn right, Luke.’

  Luke looks up and my heart aches when I see fear in his eyes. ‘You were so sick. The stress of going to the vet’s made you bedbound, for goodness’ sake. I didn’t know what would happen if I told you this. What if something happened to the baby because of it?’

  I don’t have anything to say.

  ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. I know how much you loved him.’

  I nod. ‘I did. I really did.’

  ‘I know. I know,’ Luke says. ‘I did too.’

  Luke’s words jolt me. ‘But you didn’t,’ I say. ‘You said he was a little fur ball. You made it blatantly obvious you didn’t like him.’

  Luke shuffles in his seat and I can’t read his expression. I’m not sure I’ve seen him make this face before. ‘Ah, but they were teething problems. He was just a puppy. He just needed to be house-trained.’

  ‘He’s not the only one,’ I say, and my tone is clipped and bitchy but I don’t regret it.

  I’m irked even more when Luke stares back at me with a clueless expression.

  ‘The kitchen window,’ I say, pointing. ‘You left it open.’

  Luke taps his chest with his finger. ‘Me?’

  ‘The wind caught it and it was banging like crazy. Imagine if the glass broke. We’d have had to call someone to fix it. More money.’ I pause and roll my eyes. ‘Money we can’t afford to spend.’

  Luke folds his arms and raises his voice. ‘I didn’t leave the window open.’

  He’s both defensive and pissed off as he glares at me and I know he’s preparing for me to yell back, but I don’t. The tiny hairs at the nape of my neck are tingling – because I believe him.

 
And with a shaky whisper I ask, ‘If you didn’t open it, who did?’

  Luke groans. ‘Oh, not this again.’

  I ignore him and say, ‘Well it didn’t open itself. I knew I could hear someone downstairs. Someone was here.’

  Luke holds his hands above his head in mock surrender. ‘You know what? It was me. I left it open. Happy now?’

  ‘No.’ I make a face. ‘Because you’re lying.’

  ‘I can’t win,’ Luke says, exhausted. ‘You’re upset about Jinx and looking for an argument. But I’m not going to have one. End of story.’

  I inhale sharply through my nose and hold it for a second before I puff it back out through a barely open mouth. Luke and I have faced a lot of change since I’ve been pregnant. And although I’ve been frustrated with the new direction many times, I’ve never felt like we were growing apart. Now, I’m not so sure.

  Luke stands up and walks over to me, picking up the cup of steaming tea by the handle. ‘C’mon,’ he says, still trying to smile like normal. ‘Let’s get you back to bed. It’s been quite the day.’

  ‘Yeah okay,’ I say cocking my ear to listen for a stranger’s footsteps in the house, because I’m convinced that an argument is the least of our problems.

  Chapter Thirty

  TINA

  Sunday 7 July 2019

  It’s much too hot for bloody Pilates today. It’s the hottest day of the year by far and much, much hotter than usual for an Irish summer. My fair skin can’t cope with the humidity. Sweaty bodies are lying on multicoloured floor mats and the studio at the gym seems smaller today than it did before, as if the humid conditions are sucking all the air out and shrinking it.

  ‘Breathe in, two, three. And hold. Hold. Hold.’

  Everyone does as they are told, including me. But it doesn’t feel any less stuffy and I wonder who will be the first pregnant woman to faint.

  ‘And out, two, three.’

  There’s lots of sighing and humming before instruction continues. ‘Good. Great, everyone,’ she says. ‘Let’s take five. Grab some water.’

  People slowly begin to stand up and I crane my neck to look around. It’s easier to take in faces when we’re all upright. There’s no sign of Rose the cop today. In fact, a few of the women with the largest bumps last time are missing, and I can only assume they’ve had their babies.

  Polly crosses the studio to come chat with me. ‘Teacher’s pet,’ she teases, giggling as she nods at the instructor who’s smiling and waving at me, uncomfortably enthused. I glance over my shoulder hoping it’s directed at someone else, but the girl behind me is still lying on her side with her eyes closed.

  ‘Do you always impress the instructors this quickly? I bet you were a real gym person before you got pregnant. Sure, look at you, there isn’t a pick on you. Hard to believe you even have a little one in there,’ Polly says, and I jump away just in time to dodge her hand that she tries to place on my stomach.

  ‘Where’s Rose?’ I ask, desperate to change the subject. ‘Did she have her baby?’

  Polly shakes her head. ‘Not last I heard. Poor thing. Can only imagine how fed up she is. She probably has a doctor’s appointment or something, she’d definitely be here otherwise. She’s a machine. Never misses class.’

  ‘Um,’ I say, as if I understand pregnancy ailments.

  Polly nods and we share this weird silent exchange where I think we are expressing sympathy for Rose. Really, I’m wondering if I can leave mid class without drawing too much attention to myself. There is no point my being here if Rose isn’t.

  ‘You know, I’m not really feeling great,’ I say.

  ‘Oh?’ Polly’s eyes round. ‘Morning sickness still getting to you?’

  ‘Yeah. I guess.’

  ‘It’s a nightmare.’

  ‘I think I’m just going to go. I’m not as strong as Rose.’

  ‘None of us are,’ Polly says. ‘But I think you’re doing great. You haven’t failed until you’ve thrown up in class.’ She nods and points to herself.

  Ew.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t stay?’ Polly says. ‘No one is judging you and sometimes the stretching helps.’

  I shake my head. ‘No. Not today. I really only came because Rose had some dust sheets for me.’ I gasp, wondering why I said that.

  ‘Oh, you’re decorating,’ Polly says.

  ‘Okay everyone, how are we all feeling?’ A voice of authority fills the studio, drawing everyone’s attention.

  There’s a chorus of enthusiastic women expressing how great they feel, eager to get back to exercise. In sync, our attention turns towards clapping our hands and jogging on the spot. Everyone seems to know the drill.

  ‘Let’s get back to it, ladies. Arms out and knees up. You can do this.’

  Cheers echo around the hall. ‘Whoop. Whoop.’

  It’s exhausting even if you’re not pregnant.

  ‘Oh Christ,’ Polly says, as we fail to join in. ‘I don’t have the energy for that.’

  I begin to laugh, but Polly is looking at me very seriously and she gestures towards my mat. ‘Right, grab that and let’s get going. Something like a milkshake or smoothie sounds a lot better than exercise right now, you and me?’

  I pick up my mat and try to think of a reasonable way to blow her off. ‘You know, I really would but—’

  Polly’s hands are on her hips and she carries an air of curiosity that makes me uncomfortable.

  ‘Ah, c’mon,’ she says, smiling. ‘I could really use a pick-me-up. And we never got around to it last time.’

  ‘I know, but . . .’

  Polly’s seriousness turns to sadness. ‘Please? My last Pilates friend ditched me when her pregnancy became kind of complicated and I don’t have any other pregnant mates. Well, except for Rose and she’s going to pop soon. I just want someone to moan and complain to who really gets it.’

  ‘And kick, two, three. Again, two, three.’

  Both Polly and I look at the top of the room, knowing we’re disrupting class.

  ‘Everything okay, ladies?’ the instructor asks.

  ‘Morning sickness,’ Polly answers for us both.

  The instructor nods knowingly. ‘I’ve class again tonight, so if you’re feeling better later pop back then instead.’

  ‘Cool. Ta,’ Polly says, and she hurries over to her side of the room and grabs her mat impressively quickly, considering how much most of the women seem to struggle with bending down and getting up. She crosses back to me, rolling her mat as she walks.

  ‘Right, c’mon. Smoothie, my treat,’ she says, linking her free arm around mine with the vigour of a teenager who’s determined to make a new best friend. She turns her head over her shoulder as we walk, linked uncomfortably together. ‘See you later, Kim.’

  The instructor doesn’t reply. She’s counting backwards from ten and encouraging everyone to breathe slowly and deeply. But she waves and smiles and I’ve no doubt Polly will be as good as her word and come back later.

  Outside, I unlink our arms and I’m about to make my excuses and leave, but Polly keeps talking.

  ‘Rose, Darcy and me started Pilates together. You should have seen us in the beginning – so enthusiastic and full of beans.’ Polly stares into the distance, smiling as she reminisces. I don’t interrupt and she continues. ‘Rose is the furthest along and she already has a tonne of kids at home so she gives the best advice. But it didn’t matter that Darcy and I were first timers and Rose wasn’t. We all just clicked. I was really looking forward to us all being good friends but Darcy was just too sick. The poor girl. I haven’t heard from her in a while, actually. I must give her a text.’

  ‘Ah Darcy Hogan,’ I say, her name stinging as much as ever as it passes my lips.

  ‘Yes.’ Polly’s face brightens at the mention of Darcy’s full name. ‘Did you check her out online?’

  ‘No. Like I said – I don’t like social media.’

  ‘You really are a curious one, aren’t ya?’ Polly begins to
laugh. ‘Judy’s Juices is just around the corner. You’ll have to tell me all about how you know Darcy there.’

  ‘There’s not much to tell,’ I say, taking a step to the side to avoid her linking my arm again. ‘We were in school together. But I haven’t seen her in years.’

  Polly’s eyes widen. ‘No bloody way.’ She throws her head back for a second, and gasps. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t mention this before. Small world, eh?’

  ‘Yeah. Very small,’ I say. ‘Maybe you could tell me all about what Darcy is like now. I’d love to hear what she’s like as an adult.’

  Polly’s eyes twinkle. ‘Definitely. I’d love to. You’d like her. Everyone does.’

  ‘Oh, it sounds like she hasn’t changed a bit,’ I say, having to make a conscious effort not to grind my teeth.

  ‘I’ll have to put the two of you back in touch,’ she says. ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful to reconnect after all these years?’

  Wonderful indeed.

  ‘C’mon,’ I say, walking in the direction I hope is right for Judy’s Juices. ‘I’m parched.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  DARCY

  Monday 8 July 2019

  Luke seems to want me confined to bed for the remainder of this damn pregnancy as if I’m made of papier mâché and he has to be extra careful with my fragile body.

  ‘And we can put a telly up here,’ Luke says, drawing a rectangle in the air with his fingers as he stands next to my dressing table. ‘There’s a sale on at Electro World this week, I’ll pop in after work and get one. What will we say? A 32 inch? That’s probably big enough.’

  I ignore him and stare into space. My body is aching, my joints especially. It feels a bit like the flu, except without the bunged-up nose or sore throat – at least that’s something to be grateful for, I try to remind myself, when all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry because I miss Jinx so much. The guilt at not being there when he needed me most is almost too much to bear. Damn this pregnancy. Damn it.