by Natasha West
At her car, Jeremy appeared. ‘Hey, I haven’t forgotten my promise’ he said as he hugged her goodbye.
‘Do what you can’ Izzy said and went home.
***
At her flat, Izzy climbed into a hot bath and stayed there until it went stone cold. After that, she lay in her bed until dawn broke through the following day. She didn’t sleep a wink.
What she couldn’t get over, above and beyond all else, was how stupid she’d been. She’d thought she’d struck lucky, won the girlfriend lottery. How had she not realised what kind of person Zoe was? Were her instincts so out of whack that she couldn’t smell fecklessness when it was right under her nose. Four or five times. Four or five times. That’s what Jenna had said. Over what period? A week? Two weeks? A month? How long had Izzy been a fool?
And what were the specific times? Was it when Zoe said she was going to Wednesday night Tabata class? When she said she was going for a drink with an old friend? When she went to see her grandmother in hospital? Holy hell, was there even a grandmother?
These questions haunted her.
Izzy’s phone went. It was a text from Gabby, checking in and asking if she was going to yoga. She wasn’t. She just wanted to curl up on her bed and wait for god knows what. She’d never felt more adrift in her life. A week ago, she’d been in love, she’d had a good career. This week she was single and unemployed. How could it be this easy to wreck your life?
Her phone went again. It was her mother texting to ask delicately how she was doing, no doubt worried that Izzy was rocked by the news of the divorce. But that was old news. Barely a blip on the radar.
Izzy went to the fridge and looked inside. There were just some condiments in there, and half of them were on the turn. This wouldn’t do at all. If Izzy was going to get herself good and depressed, she was going to need food.
***
Izzy was in a onesie. In the supermarket. It was official. She’d stopped giving a shit.
She walked through the cereal aisle, piling it high with the sugar packed ones that kids ate. Then she went onto the baked aisle, loading herself up with assorted filthy carbs. Crisps after that. Then booze. She was thinking about putting on roughly five pounds in the next two weeks.
She loaded the car up and climbed in. As she queued to drive out of the carpark, some young guy in a small convertible cut her off. She honked the horn at him and he just laughed at her. Izzy was so incensed she stalled the car. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ she screamed out of her window. ‘Don’t you know there are other people in the world? People who are affected by your selfishness!’
But the guy had driven off by this point and Izzy was left shouting at nothing. She took a second to catch her breath – screaming at people really took it out of you - and then put her hand on the gear stick to start the car again. But as she did, she chanced to look at the glovebox. She thought of what was in there, the ring box. She had a choice. She could throw it away or she could take it back.
But Jeremy had a point. Zoe had taken enough from her. She was not going to rob her of a grand.
Thirty-Nine
Izzy walked into the jewellers, still in the onesie. There was no pride to be had here so why bother pretending? She was returning an engagement ring. Let it be awful. Because after she had her money back, she was going to splurge on something stupid. She didn’t know what the stupid thing was yet - spending recklessly wasn’t really Izzy’s thing - but there had to be something to chuck the money away on besides bad girlfriends.
But first, the unpleasant business of the refund. She looked around, hoping to spot the guy who’d sold her the ring in the first place. But she couldn’t spot him. Only two women were in today, one middle aged lady standing in front of the counter, and another younger looking woman (Izzy could tell from the clothes) leaning down with her back to Izzy, arranging rings in a cabinet. Izzy went to the counter, to the middle-aged woman. ‘Hi. I bought this ring about a week ago. I’d like to return it please?’ she nearly whispered.
‘Have you got the receipt?’ the woman asked coldly.
So it was going to be like that, was it. Izzy fished the receipt out of her pocket. The woman had a look at the receipt and then looked at the ring with a side eye to Izzy.
The bell above the door went and a big smile suddenly slid onto the woman’s face as she beheld someone behind Izzy. ‘Mrs Smythe! Have you come about the double rope of pearls? I’ve been holding them for you!’
Mrs Smythe answered, ‘Yes. And while I’m at it, I’d like to look at your cufflinks. I need something for my husband.’
The woman completely forgot about Izzy, running around to get to Mrs Smythe. ‘I’m sure we’ve got something he’ll like.’
Izzy almost walked out there and then, but then the woman tossed a look over her shoulder at the younger woman fiddling with the display on the corner. ‘Alicia, can you help this lady with her return?’
Izzy turned as the woman stood and she thought, no, it can’t be. But it was. Alicia Coleman. Former best friend, virginity taker, heartbreaker.
Alicia looked to see who she was being asking to help, and she locked eyes with Izzy. Izzy wondered if she’d even recognise her. But there was no question from the look on Alicia’s face. ‘Jesus Christ on a cracker!’ Alicia exclaimed. Her colleague shot her a warning look before turning back to Mrs Smythe. Alicia paid it no mind. ‘Izzy! Is that you?’
Izzy looked at Alicia and no one could argue with the fact that the years had been kind to Alicia Coleman. Everything that had made her gorgeous as a teenager had made her stunning as an adult. That dark hair was still long and straight and thick, those bright blue eyes still sparkled, electric as ever. That long body had a few new curves now, womanhood filling her out magnificently. ‘Alicia?’ Izzy said, nothing else to say.
Alicia walked around the counter and Izzy didn’t know what was happening until Alicia’s arms were around her. ‘I can’t believe it’ Alicia said. After a moment’s pause, Izzy’s arms came to life and she hugged Alicia back, feeling her old friend, familiar and strange all at once. She suddenly remembered she was wearing that damn onesie. She no longer took comfort from it. She would burn it later.
Alicia leaned back from the hug, grabbing Izzy by the shoulders. ‘Isabel Mortimer’ she said with dreamy wonder, looking right into her eyes. Izzy felt overwhelmed. She’d never expected to see this person ever again and here she was, inches away. Looking amazing. It was a lot to take on. ‘You look well’ Izzy sputtered.
‘So do you’ Alicia breathed. Izzy knew that was a lie, despite Alicia’s efforts to sell it. She was a mess, top to bottom. ‘How long’s it been?’ Alicia asked.
‘I, oh, I don’t…’
‘Graduation’ Alicia said. ‘I haven’t seen you since school ended. How on earth did we let that happen?’
Izzy shook her head as if to say, ‘Who knows?’ But she knew the answer. Oh, she knew damn well. Funny how the pain came up so quickly, despite how long ago all that was. She felt her body stiffen.
‘Wait, did you want to return something?’ Alicia realised.
Oh god. The ring. ‘It’s… Don’t worry about it.’
‘What? Come on, it’s no big deal, I’ll put it through right now.’ Alicia ran around the counter and picked up the receipt, glancing at the ring. As she looked at it, Izzy cursed at whoever oversaw the universe. Because that person had it out for her, it had never been clearer.
But Alicia didn’t ask a single question about the ring. She just completed the refund and put the ring away. She handed the refund receipt to Izzy. ‘There you go. All done.’
Izzy almost cried with relief. She was free of that terrible object. And if Alicia had any questions about why Izzy was returning what was clearly an engagement ring, she kept them to herself. Izzy just had to grin and bear this a moment longer. ‘Well, it’s been lovely to see you-’ Izzy began.
‘Not so fast, Mortimer’ Alicia grinned. ‘Gimme your number.’
Izzy c
ouldn’t think why she’d want it. ‘My number? What for?’
‘So we can catch up some time’ Alicia said as though it were obvious.
Izzy had a decision to make. She could refuse to give the number, but then Alicia would want to know why, and Izzy wasn’t about to go into their history in the jewellery shop. She could give a fake number. But sooner or later, Alicia would know what she’d done, and Izzy would always know she knew. The third option was the easiest. Give in. So she did, reciting it to Alicia who duly tapped it into her phone.
‘Great’ Alicia said. ‘Alright, I’ll let you go then. For now.’
Izzy felt a blush rise and she laughed lightly, fairly running out of the shop.
Forty
Izzy was back in the bath. She was contemplating her misfortune. Because added to her list of rubbish recent bad luck was running into Alicia. Alicia who she’d been in love with as a teenager. Alicia who’d tricked her into getting close and then stepped back the second she’d gotten what she wanted. Alicia, who had Izzy’s phone number and might use it at any minute.
Izzy didn’t want that. She didn’t want to re-tread this old ground. It had taken her a long time to get over all that. Longer than she’d wanted to admit to herself. To have it dug up again? What possible good could it do? What was she going to do, become friends with Alicia? Laugh about the old days and that one time they did something a bit silly because they were drunk at a party? Izzy shuddered at the thought of pretending it was all so long ago and that she barely thought about it.
She didn’t think about it constantly, of course. The wound had closed over. But the scar remained. And the idea of looking at that scar and making light of it for Alicia’s comfort sickened her. Izzy was surprised to find just how angry she still was.
Oh, and the other thing that enraged Izzy was that Alicia looked good. Very good. Better than she had a right to. All this time, Izzy had painted a picture in her mind of Alicia growing older, maybe putting on a few extra pounds, losing definition from her beautiful face, getting tired and frumpy. And perhaps worst of all, losing that sparkle in her eyes, growing dull from the general grind and disappointment of life. Izzy hadn’t wished a bad life for Alicia, but the image brought her comfort.
And none of it had happened. She looked as good, no, better than ever. It wasn’t fair. So whatever happened next, Alicia had stolen that uplifting fantasy. Even if she never saw Alicia ever again, Izzy’s picture had been replaced by that of a beautiful, confident woman, probably permanently draped in men who wanted nothing but to please her. Just like the old days.
The water had gone cold again. Izzy got out. Her phone beeped. She ignored it. It was probably a text from Domino’s telling her about some amazing offer on dough balls. It could wait until she was dry and warm again.
But later, when she picked up the phone, it wasn’t about pizza. It was Alicia. Only three hours had passed since the jewellers and she was texting already? What was her game?
I’m still in shock at seeing you. But a good shock. Wanna meet this week? P.S Loved the onesie.
Classic Alicia. Playing with her like a cat with a mouse. Well, there was only one way to deal with that. She was going to meet Alicia and she wasn’t going to be all buddy-buddy and pretend like they’d just drifted apart and never mind because that’s how it went. No. She was going to give it to her straight. What did she have to lose? Her dignity? The week she’d had, dignity had stopped being a priority. She might as well put her foot on the accelerator and barrel toward rock bottom.
You free Thursday?
Forty-One
Izzy walked into the Italian restaurant and she wasn’t wearing a onesie this time. She was dressed to kill, wearing the sexiest dress she owned, the dark red number that showed her cleavage. Her hair was washed and styled by a hairdresser who’d put thick, loose waves into it. Izzy had then spent four times the amount of time she usually would on her make-up. If she was going to give Alicia both barrels, she had to look good while she did it.
She looked around to find that Alicia was already there, sat at a table, easily beautiful, wearing a short skirt, high heels, a flowy fancy blouse. Izzy was bitter at the thought that she probably hadn’t put a tenth of the effort into it that Izzy had. She stood up to greet Izzy. ‘Holy Christ, hi!’
‘Holy Christ?’ Izzy asked.
‘Sorry, I just meant you look… Nice’ Alicia said and then bit her lip and looked to the table where a bottle sat. ‘Well, anyway, I’ve ordered a bottle of something white, I hope that’s alright?’
‘Oh, yeah, you always liked a drink, didn’t you?’ Izzy asked, trying to keep the sneer from her voice. She wasn’t ready to blow it all up. Not yet. She was going to relish this moment. Still, there was something of a tone.
But Alicia didn’t hear the tone. ‘That’s right, I did go hard back in the day, didn’t I?’ she said as she sat. ‘I don’t drink that much anymore. But this seemed like a special occasion.’ She filled Izzy’s glass and then her own.
‘Special occasion?’ Izzy asked, pulling up a chair.
‘Well, it’s been, what? Ten years?’
‘About that, yes’ Izzy said.
Alicia cleared her throat and took a small sip of wine. ‘Is this place alright? I wasn’t sure…’
‘I’m easy’ Izzy said, feeling anything but. Alicia was acting weird. She seemed different than Izzy remembered from the old days, different even from the jewellers. Less sure of herself.
‘So, come on, what you doing these days?’ Alicia demanded.
That was a bit of a difficult question being as Izzy was currently on a break from work and in fact, life in general. So she tried to keep it vague.
‘I work in radio.’
‘Radio?’
‘Yep. I’m a producer.’
The waitress walked over right then, handily for Izzy. She took their orders and Izzy felt safe on the other side of the career question. Tonight wasn’t about her failings. It was about Alicia’s.
But as soon as the waitress left, Alicia picked right back up where she’d left off. ‘So where do you work?’
‘Erm, I was working at BMR-’
‘Shit!’ Alicia exclaimed. ‘That’s my morning station.’
‘Is it?’ Izzy asked, surprised.
‘Yeah. I kind of hate the morning crew - all morning DJs are tossers - but I like to get their news.’
‘I do news at that time’ Izzy blurted, unexpectedly delighted.
‘Are you serious? You’re producing the news I’ve been listening to on my drive to work?’ Alicia gaped. ‘That’s too fucking weird.’
‘It’s a bit weird, yes’ Izzy had to admit.
‘So what happened to the guy, the one that always read it and then suddenly vanished? Was it Grant something?’
‘You noticed that?’
‘Long time listener here.’
‘He left because…’ Izzy started to say, planning to give Alicia the corporate line about moving onto other projects. But for some reason, she changed her mind. ‘The short story is that he quit because he’s a massive diva.’
Alicia was delighted. ‘Oh, brilliant. Inside gossip. Tell me more.’
So Izzy did. She detailed Grant’s years of temper tantrums and his ridiculous exit. Alicia was rapt. Izzy was a bit annoyed that she was allowing herself to get off-mission like this but there was always time to bring things around. ‘So anyway, I heard he’s doing traffic reports for some dinky station in the middle of nowhere now.’
‘What’s the new woman like?’ Alicia asked. ‘She a diva too?’
Izzy barely flinched at the mention of Zoe. ‘No… Not really.’
Alicia narrowed her eyes. ‘I smell intrigue. What is it? What’s wrong with her?’
Starters appeared on the table and Izzy began to dig bread into her warm camembert at double speed. ‘No intrigue. She’s fine’ Izzy said through gloopy cheese.
Alicia ate one of her olives thoughtfully and asked, ‘If you say so. Hey,
I meant to ask what was wrong with the ring?’
Izzy felt her eye twitch. ‘What ring?
‘The one I refunded.’
‘There was nothing wrong with it. It was an impulse purchase I regretted, that’s all’ Izzy said truthfully.
Alicia picked at her olives. ‘Oh, alright. I guess, well, that particular ring is the kind of thing people sometimes buy for engagements. That’s all.’