The Scent of You

by Maggie Alderson

  The doorman asked them if they’d like a taxi as he opened the door for them. Polly nodded.

  ‘Claridges, please,’ she said to the cab driver as they got in, then turned to Lori.

  ‘They’re doing a menu of perfumed cocktails in the bar,’ said Polly, ‘which I consulted on. So I get complimentary drinks there at the moment and I think we should go and have a couple.’

  ‘We most definitely should,’ said Lori. ‘And I’ll raise a toast to academic research, because I wouldn’t be having nearly so good a time if Rich was here with me. This way we’re both happy. He’s got his war graves and I’ve got my best girlfriend and a scented cocktail or two. Or three.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Polly.

  It was a quarter-to-midnight, and Lori and Guy were arm-wrestling on Polly’s kitchen table – over lit candles. Lori was winning.

  ‘Owwww!’ Guy started yelling.

  ‘Some don’t like it hot, eh, perfume boy?’ Lori was saying.

  ‘Please stop!’ said Polly. ‘I can smell burning hair.’

  ‘That is gross,’ said Shirlee, who was the referee, ‘but don’t let it stop ya. This is too much fun.’

  With a grunt of effort, Guy managed to raise his arm a little and started to slowly push Lori’s down towards the other candle. ‘Don’t burn my friend,’ squealed Polly. ‘I’ve only had her back a week, I need her unsinged!’

  But Polly knew Lori was going to be fine when she saw her chest expand as she took a super-slow deep breath, then, as she released it noisily out of her nostrils, she came back, firmly pushing Guy’s hand back down again.

  ‘Yow!’ he said, jumping up and running to the sink. ‘You win, you freak.’

  He ran cold water over the back of his hand.

  ‘You’re very strong, for such a slender person,’ he said.

  ‘She’s a yoga bitch, like me,’ said Polly.

  Lori smiled graciously.

  ‘Strength is in the head, not in the arm, grasshopper,’ she said. ‘Your muscles are just fashion accessories. Shot me up, Shirl.’

  Shirlee grinned and filled a set of shot glasses from the set Lori had brought as a gift for Polly – along with a bottle of tequila. They were more than halfway down it. She passed one to Lori.

  ‘I think the runner-up gets a shot as well, doesn’t he?’ said Guy, sitting down again and rubbing an ice cube on his hand. ‘Damages.’

  Shirlee filled another glass, then supplied them both with a salt dose. Guy and Lori raised their glasses, licked their thumbs, slugged and bit their lime slice, without ever losing eye contact, then slammed their glasses on the kitchen table.

  ‘Ariba!’ they both shouted.

  Polly shook her head.

  ‘This is the kind of thing Lucas used to get up to,’ she said, ‘until he grew out of it recently – something it seems you two still haven’t done.’

  ‘Wanna shot?’ asked Shirlee, grinning.

  ‘No thanks,’ said Polly, who’d already had three, on top of the scented cocktails earlier, and felt quite dizzy enough.

  ‘Polly! Polly! Polly!’ Lori started chorusing and the other two joined in, getting louder and faster, until they were all drumming their feet on the floor and their fists on the table.

  ‘The neighbours!’ said Polly. ‘They’ll call the police if you carry on. They’ve done it before. I think it was the last time you were here, Lori.’

  ‘We’ll give them a few shots,’ said Lori, who seemed to be high on the tequila rather than drunk. She had an ox’s constitution and never got messy with alcohol, just more energetic.

  ‘What’s happened to the music?’ said Guy.

  ‘Oh, it must be the end of the playlist,’’ said Polly, getting up from the table and heading for the hifi system. As she stood up she felt a wave of vertigo – and a little nauseous. She’d definitely drunk too much. She fumbled about and managed to get one of Lucas’s party mixes going and then headed out of the kitchen.

  ‘You can run but you can’t hide,’ Guy called after her, before he started a chorus of Shirlee’s name.

  Polly walked to the front door and went outside, pushing it to, but not shutting it. She needed some fresh air – and as she heard another chorus of SHOT! SHOT! SHOT! from the kitchen, she realised she also needed a break from her friends.

  She loved the way they all got on so well. The fact that Lori adored Shirlee and Guy, and they felt the same about her, made Polly feel reassured about her choice of new friends.

  Sometimes she wondered why she gathered such high-octane characters around her, but seeing the three of them together she’d understood that – particularly in the difficult times she’d been going through – she needed their energy to feed off.

  From the moment she walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later, Polly felt a palpable shift in the atmosphere. They were all quite pissed – they seemed to have got noticeably drunker in that short absence – but it wasn’t just that. Shirlee was looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

  ‘Here she is,’ said Lori, ‘the world’s best friend and best yoga teacher, who also annoyingly has the best legs. Where’ve you been, Pollski?’

  ‘Oh I was just having a breather, I can’t keep up with you party animals.’

  ‘She always was a bit of a grog wimp,’ said Lori, grinning at her. ‘Come and sit by me, Poll doll, I’m going miss you soooo much when I leave.’

  Polly sat next to her, putting her head on Lori’s shoulder and closing her eyes. Lori kissed her hair.

  ‘You came back at just the right moment,’ Lori said.

  Polly opened her eyes again. Guy was clearly hammered. Shirlee looked even more uneasy than she had a minute before.

  ‘Who wants another shot?’ she asked, reaching for the bottle.

  ‘I’m holding,’ said Lori, ‘and I reckon perfume boy’s going to pass out if he has another one now. Besides, we’ve got important things to discuss. I declare this meeting of Polly’s Best Mates open. We have quorum and top of the agenda is: how we’re going to get you laid. And soon.’

  Polly sat up and looked over at Shirlee, who opened her eyes wide in an expression that seemed to convey she’d had nothing to do with the direction the conversation was taking.

  ‘Well, I did offer,’ slurred Guy, ‘and it would change her life to fly Air Guy, but she’s not into my scene, more fool her.’

  ‘Yeah, well, the group thing’s fine when you’re young,’ said Lori, ‘but at our age, it’s a bit more delicate. Specially as this will be the first bloke apart from her hubby that Polly’s rooted since she was about nineteen. How old were you when you met Dreary Dave?’

  ‘Twenty-two,’ said Polly, wondering how soon she could go to bed. She really wished Lori wouldn’t call David that.

  ‘I think I might make us some early breakfast,’ said Shirlee, starting to get up from her seat.

  ‘Sit down, Shirl,’ said Lori, ‘or we won’t be quorate. So, you guys know the field in London. Who’s Polly going to get with?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re worrying about,’ said Guy. ‘She’s already got horsey boy on the go. If she hasn’t climbed onto that saddle yet, it’s only a matter of time. And he is h-h-h-h-h-h-hot. I’ve already told her I’d do him in a heartbeat. With or without his riding boots . . .’

  Lori had turned to look at Polly with her mouth open.

  ‘You’ve got a bloke on the go and you haven’t told me?’ she said, looking appalled.

  ‘No,’ said Polly. ‘Guy’s got it all wrong.’

  ‘Well, you know gaydar?’ said Guy. ‘There’s also something called “laydar”, which is when you just instinctively know two people have been wildly at it – or are very soon going to be – and my laydar went off in a major way when I saw you two together, so there. Proof.’

  ‘But who is he?’ said Lori. ‘Spill it, Poll! This is too much. I think I’m going to need another shot, after all. Set ’em up, Shirl.’

  Polly summoned all her self-c
ontrol to avoid running out of the room screaming. She hadn’t told Lori about Chum, because she was trying not to think about him. It made her feel bad and sad.

  And there was something else. She didn’t want to tell anyone what had happened between them because she was worried it would spoil it.

  Although she wondered now if she’d been slightly deranged, her time with Chum had been so magical she wanted to keep those memories untarnished, and just for herself. Telling someone else about them would make them sound tawdry.

  ‘He’s talking about someone I ran into where my mum lives,’ she said, trying to sound casual. ‘Someone I went to uni with and I haven’t seen since, but his stepdad lives there and so we met up, in the dining room. That’s it.’

  ‘That’s it?’ said Guy. ‘And I’ll have another shot too, Shirlster. I need my strength to face this outrageous torrent of denial. I’ve seen you two together. There’s an electromagnetic field between you and horsey boy that could pull a satellite back to earth, and I’ve seen all the little looks over the biscuits and the “Let’s take the doggies for a walk”. It’s quite emetic really.’

  ‘Why do you call him horsey boy?’ said Lori.

  ‘He’s a classic type,’ said Guy. ‘All long legs and razor cheekbones and a narrow head. Just like all the upper-class twits I went to school with. You know those posh fox-hunting types? Tally-ho!’

  ‘He doesn’t hunt,’ said Polly, the words out before could stop herself, and the three others exploded with laughter, even Shirlee.

  Lori shoved her shoulder.

  ‘Polly Masterson-Mackay, you dog!’ she said. ‘You are so doing him!’

  ‘I am not,’ said Polly.

  ‘“He doesn’t hunt . . . he’s much too nice for that . . . he’s strong, but he’s gentle”,’ said Lori in a high-pitched imitation of Polly’s accent. ‘You are seriously into this guy. You gave it all away there in three little words, so you better tell all, girlfriend. We want details. How often, how big, any tongue action . . .’

  Guy roared with laughter.

  ‘Does he use his riding crop on you?’ he asked.

  ‘Very funny,’ said Polly, summoning all her self-control. ‘I knew him at uni, I bumped into him at my mum’s place, we’ve been for a few dog walks, but I have never shagged Edward Cliddington-Hanley-Maugham.’

  They were all silent for a moment, just looking at her incredulously, then they burst out laughing together.

  ‘Is that seriously his name?’ said Lori. ‘Edward Clitlicking-Manley-Horn?’

  Polly rolled her eyes.

  ‘Yes, that’s his name. His dad was an earl, they have a big stately home. Loads of my friends at uni were like that – that’s why I didn’t stay in touch with him all these years. He’s a very nice guy, but he’s not part of my world.’

  She looked over at Shirlee and smiled. She was so grateful to her for not joining in with the others, when it must have been so tempting. She’d only laughed. She hadn’t chipped in, she’d kept her oath.

  Shirlee smiled back, with her lips pressed tightly together, making the point.

  ‘You know what, Shirlee?’ Polly said. ‘I’d love some of that early breakfast. I’ll help you.’

  Monday, 2 May

  As she watched everyone in her Monday-morning yoga class sink into a deep meditative state, Polly took a moment to think about her own concerns. Now Lori had gone home, she was doing her best to get her life back to some kind of normal – or at least the new kind of normal it had settled into since David had left.

  She was doing her classes, blogging, going to as many perfume events as possible, and hanging out a lot with Shirlee and Guy. Mostly it was fine. Sometimes it was great. She still had pangs of guilt about Chum and still more now about Lori, because she never did open up to her about him, although Lori had teased her endlessly, in her usual way.

  It hadn’t been a lie, Polly told herself as she picked up her temple chimes. She hadn’t shagged him. So not a lie, just an omission of the full truth.

  There was one thing to be cheerful about that morning, though: Maxine was back in the class and was staying for breakfast with Shirlee and her afterwards. Polly had been surprised how much she’d missed her steady, quiet presence, balancing out Shirlee’s frenetic tempo, and was delighted she was back.

  Polly gave her a big hug when she came back into the kitchen after seeing the last of the other yoga students out.

  ‘Maxiiiii,’ she said, ‘it’s so good to see you! My soon-to-be-ex-husband’s ex-shrink.’

  Maxine glanced over at Shirlee, who was already manning her frying pans, a spatula in each hand.

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Polly. ‘I’ve told her everything, we can talk freely – well, as freely as you can with professional discretion.’

  ’ ‘That’s great,’ said Maxine, ‘and I’m glad to see you looking well. How are you doing?’

  ‘Oh,’ said Polly, ‘you know, a bit this and that. I had my best friend over from Oz for a couple of weeks, which was great.’

  ‘Now, she is one fun girl,’ said Shirlee. ‘Such a shame she doesn’t live here all the time. We loved Lori.’

  ‘That must have been very comforting, having her to stay,’ said Maxine, using what Polly now recognised as her professional tone.

  ‘Yes, it was,’ said Polly.

  It would have been more so if I could have been honest with her, she thought, but I seem to have forgotten how to do that with anybody. Especially myself.

  ‘So has David found a new psych, then?’ she asked Maxine. She didn’t know why she was pushing it, but she wanted to know for some reason.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Maxine. ‘It was quite, er, tricky convincing him that he needed to.’

  ‘Did he get angry with you?’ asked Polly.

  Maxine said nothing for a moment, then seemed to make a decision.

  ‘Yes, he did,’ she said. ‘In fact he was physically aggressive to me. I had to press my panic button.’

  ‘What the fuck?’ said Shirlee, turning round from the stove, holding both spatulas in the air.

  ‘You don’t look surprised,’ said Maxine, observing Polly keenly.

  ‘No,’ said Polly. ‘The last time I saw him, there was something about him I found very disturbing. He didn’t attack me, but I felt quite afraid of him.’

  ‘You never told me that,’ said Shirlee.

  ‘I don’t tell you absolutely everything,’ said Polly.

  ‘Oh,’ said Shirlee, like a disappointed child.

  ‘Is this something that can happen with his condition?’ Polly asked Maxine.

  ‘It’s controversial,’ said Maxine. ‘I’ve never seen it before. Some psychiatrists do diagnose psychosis in OCD patients with very poor insight – that means they don’t recognise that their OCD symptoms are irrational – but I don’t support that position. I think David has another condition, alongside what I was treating him for, and I don’t feel qualified to deal with it. He needs a psychiatrist, not a psychotherapist. He possibly needs antipsychotics that I can’t prescribe.’

  ‘Oh, poor David,’ said Polly. ‘Is there nothing we can do?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t think there is,’ said Maxine. ‘Your children might be able to, he might listen to them – and if he gets worse, they could have him committed. I know that sounds appalling, but better that than having him attack someone.’

  Polly put her hand on her forehead. She felt as though it were physically throbbing as she tried to take this new information on board. Poor, poor David.

  ‘Clemmie really wants to come and see you,’ she said, ‘to talk about it all, and with her medical training, she’ll understand this new stuff.’

  ‘I’ll see Clemmie any time,’ said Maxine.

  Shirlee put a mug of tea down on the table in front of Polly and squeezed her shoulder.

  ‘It’s a tough ride, baby girl,’ she said. ‘But you got friends.’

  ‘I’m so grateful for that,’ said Polly.


  For the rest of the breakfast, Shirlee valiantly steered the conversation towards jollity. They kept to light topics and even had a laugh. By the time Shirlee and Maxine got up to go, Polly was feeling much better.

  ‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right here on your own?’ asked Shirlee as she opened the front door. ‘I promised Guy I’d help him shift some stuff and I can’t let him down, but you could come too. It’ll be fun hauling boxes around if we do it together.’

  ‘I’ll be OK,’ said Polly. ‘I’ve got lots of stuff to sort out for some events I’m doing, and if I do feel low, I’ll call you and come over to Guy’s.’

  ‘And I’m so glad you’re back,’ said Polly to Maxine. ‘I really missed you.’

  ‘I missed you too,’ said Maxine ‘and your Pigeon Pose. My back’s been playing up since I’ve been skipping your classes.’

  They stood silently for a moment.

  ‘I’m sorry to have been the bearer of more bad news about David,’ she said. ‘But I decided you had to know. And your kids need to know.’

  ‘I’m more grateful than I can possibly tell you,’ said Polly.

  She kissed Maxine’s cheek and gave her shoulders a squeeze.

  ‘One other thing,’ said Maxine. ‘Cut yourself a lot of slack, Polly. You might feel that you’re over the worst of it, but you’ve had some very big shocks – and I’ve just given you another one. You’ll get through it on a kind of extended adrenaline rush, but one day that will stop and then it may hit you like a truck. And even before that, you can feel very disorientated and confused and uncertain about things you used to be absolutely sure of.

  ‘So don’t be surprised if you’re a bit muddle-headed and make decisions about things and then don’t understand why you made those choices. You’ll be better than most people would be, because of your yoga and meditation practice, but don’t underestimate the trauma you’ve been through, OK?’

  Polly nodded. Speechless. It was like Maxine had been in her head the past couple of weeks.

  ‘And if you need to, call me any time, night or day,’ Maxine added. ‘I’m here for you, as a friend with professional benefits.’