by Sandie Jones
‘I can’t imagine anyone would be, if their girlfriend made a fool of herself like that,’ says Paige.
Noah laughs awkwardly. ‘So how long did you have your surf school down here?’ he asks Will, in a clumsy attempt to change the subject.
‘About eighteen months,’ says Will. ‘It’s just about the longest I’ve stayed anywhere. But hey, I must have managed to put down enough roots to make this feel like the place I wanted to get married. I know a lot more people here than anywhere else in the world.’
‘Well, let’s give thanks for that!’ says Noah, looking up at the house and raising his glass.
‘Oh, don’t be acting as if butter wouldn’t melt,’ Ali says to Paige, as if Noah and Will hadn’t spoken.
Rachel’s ears burn with a searing heat as she prays that Paige hasn’t heard her, and wills Ali not to say another word.
‘You must have done things you’re not particularly proud of,’ Ali goes on, leaving Rachel’s prayers unanswered.
She feels Paige bristle as an expectant hush descends, as if they’re all waiting with bated breath for an answer.
‘I don’t tend to make mistakes,’ says Paige eventually.
‘Oh, come on,’ pushes Ali. ‘You can’t possibly have been this perfect all your life.’
Noah chokes theatrically on his wine. ‘Well, there was this time . . .’
‘Ah-ha!’ shouts Ali triumphantly, as Paige throws Noah a warning look. ‘I knew it!’
‘So, come on, Noah,’ presses Ali. ‘Tell us what your perfect wife used to get up to.’
Paige laughs, but it sounds hollow. ‘I can assure you, I’m by no means perfect.’ She takes hold of Noah’s hand beside her and squeezes it, but Rachel can’t tell whether it’s for support or to reprimand him for dropping her in it.
Ali tucks her legs up underneath her as if she’s settling into a good film, and Rachel winces as she waits to see how Paige is going to play this. Is she going to give Ali what she wants? A glimpse of her old self, in another life? Or is she going to stick to the carefully crafted character she’s created for herself in order to get ahead in an industry that has piranhas snapping at your heels at the first sign of weakness?
It was that version that Rachel got to see more often than not these days, as the pressure in the city forced Paige to be someone she never used to be. They still had fun whenever they were together, but it had become more and more inhibited – as if Paige had an impenetrable barrier around her that wouldn’t let her fully kick back and relax. As if by doing so, she would reveal a vulnerability she couldn’t afford to expose.
Paige drains her glass of wine and puts it back onto the table with a vigour that has both Noah and Jack reaching for the bottle to give her a refill.
‘So, what have you done?’ asks Ali, unable to let it go.
Paige looks around the group, as if sizing them all up; gauging whether she should say what she’s about to say.
‘I took drugs once,’ she says eventually.
A hush momentarily descends over the group before Ali spits out some water. ‘Are you serious?’ Her eyes widen.
‘Yep,’ mutters Paige.
‘That doesn’t count,’ exclaims Ali. ‘We’ve all done that! Come on, Noah, what’s Paige done that she’d be ashamed to tell us about?’
Noah laughs nervously. ‘Should I tell them about the time you refused to come down from the podium in Halkidiki, or when you got yourself arrested?’
Paige’s jaw involuntarily spasms as she tries to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
‘Oh my God,’ squeals Ali. ‘You got arrested? What for?’
Paige clears her throat. ‘I was at a rally and an overzealous police officer decided to make an example of me.’
‘That’s brilliant!’ says Ali, clapping her hands together. ‘What were you protesting against?’
‘Erm, it was a women’s rights march in London,’ says Paige. ‘A judge had let off a rapist because he said the victim was too drunk to know whether she consented or not.’
‘No way,’ says Ali, without a modicum of conviction. ‘That sucks.’
‘Indeed it does,’ says Paige tightly.
‘So, do you consider yourself a feminist?’ asks Ali.
‘I don’t think wanting to see a rapist convicted of his crime makes me a feminist,’ says Paige. ‘But believing in equal opportunities and not wanting to be treated any differently because I’m a woman, probably makes me one.’
‘So, you’re not a fan of being called darling or being whistled at in the street?’ asks Ali.
‘Who is?’ replies Paige. ‘Anyone who condones that kind of behaviour is doing a real disservice to the rest of the female population.’
‘You work at the Old Bailey, right?’ asks Ali.
Paige nods. ‘Sometimes.’
‘So, do you feel you have to work extra hard to prove yourself? To prove that you’re just as good at your job as your male counterparts.’
‘I’ve worked hard to get to where I am,’ says Paige. ‘But I’ve no doubt I’d be even further on if I was a man.’
‘Doesn’t that piss you off?’ asks Ali, as if trying to get a rise out of Paige.
‘Yes, but it’s the way of the world and, although it’s slowly changing, we’ll never truly be equals. But it would really help the cause if we could all unite and present a stronger force, so that men know they can’t take any of us for fools.’
‘I think the tide is turning,’ says Ali.
‘Do you?’ says Paige, seemingly taken aback. ‘How can it be, when there are still some women who continually let the side down? Who feel that the only way to get a man’s attention is to play the damsel in distress?’
Rachel sinks further into the sofa cushions as Paige’s sharp tone reverberates around the group. She knows her well enough to know that if any one topic is going to get her stoked, feminism is it, and with the new information on Ali, it feels like a firecracker is about to go off.
‘God, I hate women like that,’ says Ali, without any trace of irony. ‘I’ve met a few of them in my time.’
‘Anyway, how’s the new job going?’ asks Rachel, desperate to change the subject.
Ali laughs. ‘I’ve been there over a year now, so it doesn’t feel like a new job anymore.’
‘Gosh,’ says Rachel, looking at Jack with raised eyebrows. ‘Has it really been that long?’
‘Mmm,’ he mutters. ‘Time flies.’
Rachel remembers being introduced to Ali as if it were yesterday. She’d gone to meet Jack in the pub after work and Ali was there waxing lyrical about how nice he was and how he’d taken her under his wing.
‘Seriously, he’s gone way over and above to help me settle in,’ she’d said.
‘That’s Jack for you,’ Rachel had said as the pair of them stood there watching him order a round of drinks at the end of the bar.
‘But he doesn’t have to,’ said Ali. ‘He could easily offload me onto someone less senior, but he seems really invested in my success. I’ve learnt so much from him already.’
Rachel had raised her eyebrows in surprise because, if the truth be known, that didn’t actually sound like Jack at all. For the past month, all he’d done was complain that he couldn’t leave the office much before nine at night. He’d said the company was in the middle of a merger and he’d been working flat-out on supplying all the data and information that was required before the deadline. Which, much to his annoyance, had superseded his day job of finding new musical talent to produce and promote. So, if his workload was that full-on, Rachel had wondered, where was he finding the time to mentor a new recruit?
Despite herself, Rachel hadn’t been able to help but re-evaluate the woman standing in front of her as she silently weighed up the risk factor. Not that her marriage was prime for sabotage – she and Jack were as tight as any couple she knew – but she defied any woman in her position not to at least make an unspoken checklist.
To start with, Ali wa
s blonde, and Rachel had never known Jack to veer away from brunette. She had almost laughed out loud, unable to believe her mind was even taking her down this road, but still she couldn’t stop herself from taking in Ali’s curves, impossibly tiny waist, and full rosebud lips, that she imagined were the stuff of men’s dreams.
Rachel had felt like an ungainly giant standing next to her, but she’d refused to quite literally bow to the pressure of making herself seem smaller, more petite. Yet she couldn’t help but wish that she’d worn her long brown hair down, instead of it being in a messy bun on top of her head, and that she’d applied a smidge of lipstick to make herself feel as if she was at least a contender in the race.
The race for what? she’d asked herself as she looked at Jack. I’ve already won.
‘Where were you working before?’ she’d asked Ali, by way of making small talk, even though she wasn’t really interested in the answer.
‘I was at Maverick Promotions,’ said Ali. ‘And my boss there was a total dickhead.’
Rachel had looked at her through narrowed eyes, surprised by her indiscretion.
‘How so?’ she said.
‘He crossed the line,’ said Ali. ‘He thought because I’m the way I am, that he could take advantage of me.’
‘The way you are?’ asked Rachel, keen to establish exactly what she meant and the threat it might present.
‘That I’m outgoing and friendly,’ said Ali.
Rachel waited for her to add ‘and because I look like every man’s fantasy’, but she didn’t.
‘So, what happened?’ Rachel asked, when no more information was forthcoming.
Ali looked up, her piercing blue eyes staring straight through her. ‘He took me for a fool,’ she said. ‘He thought I was just some blonde bimbo who he could silence, due to his position of power, but he was wrong.’ The tone of Ali’s voice as she said those last four words troubled Rachel, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on whether it was because he’d treated her badly or because she’d made sure he hadn’t got away with it.
‘Well, I’m glad that you made a stand,’ she said, part of her wanting to ask more questions, but equally not wanting to get into it. ‘Men like him need to know that we won’t accept that kind of behaviour. We need to push back against these predators.’
‘Yes, girl!’ Ali had declared, before pulling Rachel into a sudden embrace. As Rachel extricated herself, making excuses that she needed to go and help Jack, Ali started making her way towards a circle of men who were becoming rowdier by the minute.
‘She’s quite a force,’ Rachel had commented to Jack as he handed her a glass of white wine.
‘Mmm, I wonder if she’s too much so.’
Rachel had cocked her head to one side. ‘Meaning?’
‘Well, look at her,’ said Jack, taking a sip of his pint of lager and licking the white-foam residue from his lip.
As Rachel had watched Ali coil her arm around the neck of the most handsome of the bunch, pleading with him to dance to Whitney Houston’s ‘How Will I Know?’, she wondered if Jack might have a point.
‘Hey!’ said Will, coming up behind her at the bar and squeezing her waist.
‘Hi!’ Rachel squealed, excitedly pulling him into her for a hug. ‘You’re back! Ooh it’s so lovely to see you – it’s been far too long.’ He flashed her a smile through his thick beard.
‘Hey, bro,’ he said as he leaned into Jack and they did that macho shoulder nudge thing that men who like to be cool do nowadays.
‘Come here,’ said Jack, thinking better of it and pulling his younger brother in for a proper embrace. ‘How you doing?’
‘Knackered,’ said Will.
Jack laughed. ‘How can you be knackered when you’ve spent the last two months in Vietnam, doing sweet FA?’
Will smiled and rolled his eyes at Rachel, as if to say, here we go. ‘I meant from the flight. Being stuck in economy for twelve hours with legs this long is punishing.’
‘My heart bleeds for you.’ Jack sighed theatrically. ‘What can I get you?’
‘I’ll have a pint please,’ said Will, as he put his arm around Rachel.
‘So, what have you been up to?’ she asked. ‘How was your time at the monastery?’
‘Intense,’ said Will. ‘Let’s just say that two months was plenty long enough to know that it wasn’t what I wanted.’
Rachel had looked at him: so worldly-wise, yet still so vulnerable. At thirty-three, he was seemingly no nearer knowing what it was he did want.
He meandered from one low-paid job to the next, flitting between countries and continents as casually as if it were a routine commute. Sometimes, Rachel envied his bohemian lifestyle; his ability to put down roots wherever he landed, no matter how shallow they were. But mostly she worried, like an over-protective big sister, whether he was ever going to be able to settle down in one place long enough to meet someone and start a family of his own.
She could never have guessed that, that very night, her prayers were going to be answered.
‘You must miss having such a livewire in the office?’ offers Paige now with a hint of sarcasm that only those who know her well would notice.
Jack looks at her with raised eyebrows. ‘Her absence is noticeable,’ is all he says.
‘Aw, that’s so sweet,’ gushes Ali, leaning over to rub Jack’s arm. ‘I’m pleased that I’m missed.’
Rachel squirms on his behalf.
‘So, you’re working for David Friedman’s company now?’ asks Noah, no doubt feeling the chill in the atmosphere.
Ali nods animatedly.
‘Have you met him yet?’
‘Yes,’ says Ali, smiling broadly.
Paige throws a scathing glance in Rachel’s direction that says, ‘She’s probably sleeping with him’.
‘That must be pretty exciting,’ Noah goes on. ‘Is he just like we see him on TV?’
‘Nicer,’ says Ali. ‘He used to have a reputation as being a bit mean when he first started on the judging panel of Star Maker . . .’
‘Yes, I remember,’ says Rachel. ‘But he’s a bit more chilled out now.’
‘Well, he’s even more so behind the scenes,’ says Ali. ‘I really like him.’
‘You’d think that someone like him would be able to spot them a mile off, wouldn’t you?’ says Paige, almost to herself.
‘Them?’ questions Ali.
‘The kind of women we’re talking about,’ says Paige, proving her reputation that once she’s got the bit between her teeth, she doesn’t let go.
‘The women you’re referring to don’t all wear short skirts and have a sign over their heads,’ says Ali.
‘True enough,’ says Paige.
‘If you’re implying . . .?’ Ali starts, before stopping herself.
‘I’m not implying anything,’ says Paige.
‘Wearing the clothes I want makes me feel empowered,’ says Ali, sounding a little more authoritative than Rachel has heard her before. ‘If a man happens to find that attractive or misconstrues it to mean that I’m coming on to them, then so be it, but make no mistake: I’m the one in control. Not them.’
‘You sound as if you’re speaking from experience,’ says Paige.
‘Anyone want another drink?’ blurts out Rachel, in an attempt to change the subject. She looks to Noah, wide-eyed, but he offers a reassuring wink and a nod to the almost-full bottle sitting on the table.
Ali sighs. ‘There was a time when I foolishly believed that sleeping with someone would further my career. But obviously it only served to cut it short.’
‘So, you learnt your lesson?’ asks Paige, almost triumphantly.
‘That wasn’t the lesson,’ says Ali bluntly. ‘Finding out he had a wife was.’
3
The men laugh nervously, as Rachel and Paige look at each other in shock. Not because Ali had done it, Rachel supposes, but that she’d happily admit to it.
‘You’re a real advert for the sisterhood, aren’t yo
u?’ says Paige sarcastically.
‘P . . .’ cautions Noah.
‘What?’ she replies haughtily. ‘I’m just stating the facts.’
Noah looks wearily at Rachel, as if asking for an ally in the uphill struggle he finds himself in, and she finds herself torn between the two of them, not knowing who to back.
She takes a deep breath. ‘If Ali wasn’t aware she was breaking the code until it was too late, she can’t really be held accountable,’ she offers, hoping it’s enough to appease both sides.
‘Assuming she stopped it the minute she found out, you mean?’ questions Paige, as if Ali isn’t there.
‘Exactly,’ says Rachel. ‘And that’s what happened, right?’ She crosses everything in the hope that Ali says yes.
‘Of course,’ she enthuses. ‘What woman would sleep with a man they knew belonged to someone else?’
Noah laughs. ‘Depends if he’s Bradley Cooper or not.’
Rachel can’t help but love him for trying to break the vicious circle they seem trapped in.
Ali smiles. ‘Would you sleep with Bradley Cooper?’ she asks Rachel.
‘If he was married, or I was?’
They all laugh – even Paige, whose edges are being slowly softened by the alcohol. Another couple of glasses should see off all those sharp corners, and Rachel can’t get there fast enough.
She looks to Jack, as if weighing up her answer. ‘Mmm,’ she muses. ‘If he was married, then definitely not. But if I was . . .’
‘You are so cheap,’ says Jack, laughing and throwing a cushion at her. ‘Don’t y’all be thinking that it would stop there either. Bradley is one of many on her long list of lucky men she’d get with if she had a hall pass.’
‘A hall pass?’ questions Ali with a vexed brow. ‘What’s that?’
‘You don’t have a hall pass?’ says Rachel in mock shock.
Ali looks at Will, confused and shaking her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘I’m not sure there’d be enough passes to go around,’ snipes Paige, but nobody seems to acknowledge it apart from Rachel, who throws her an admonishing glare.
‘So, a hall pass is a one-night-only ticket that’s given to you by your partner to spend with a celebrity.’