Knowing You

by Samantha Tonge

  Shit. Of course. I was meant to attend a brainstorming meeting Felicity only holds twice a year where staff air their ideas on how to improve the company.

  I sigh and change into my pyjamas and crawl back to bed. Is this what a duvet day is? I’ve never had one before.

  I lay there, stomach gurgling. I placate it by drinking a glass of water. My phone bleeps. It’s a text from Casey asking me how my pub meal went. I can’t face replying at the moment. I just want to be on my own where no one can see me and put pressure on to eat or not eat. I fall into fitful sleep and am woken up several hours later when Flossie jumps onto the bed.

  She reaches my neck and gently pats my mouth with her paw.

  ‘I’m sorry, Flossie,’ I whisper, ‘if I’ve neglected you over recent weeks. I’ve just been busy, trying to move my life forwards. Do you miss Lenny?’

  Flossie closes her eyes as I tickle behind her eyes.

  ‘I don’t. Not anymore, but I do miss the comfort of having someone in my bed. I miss being held in front of the telly. I miss holding hands as I walk along the street. But most of all, I miss feeling as if I am part of something that matters.’ I stop scratching her head. ‘I’m trying so hard to be the best possible version of myself – successful at work, be polished – but if I’m honest…’ My voice breaks. ‘It can be a lonely business. No one seems to get it apart from our new flatmate.’

  The doorbell rings. I panic. Who is that? There was no way I can face seeing anyone. Not in this state. I get out of bed and wrap my dressing gown around me. I pad to the door. Perhaps they’ll go away.

  I don’t want to see anyone.

  I don’t want anyone to see me.

  I don’t want to talk.

  I don’t want to laugh and joke.

  Go away.

  Leave me alone.

  I’m safer on my own. I can’t be judged. I can’t be hurt.

  And even though I miss having a partner, I don’t need anyone.

  ‘It’s Kath. Open up, sweetheart.’

  I stand statue still. However, at that moment, my phone rings. I grab it out of my dressing gown pocket and in a hurry drop it onto the floor. I bend over. It’s Casey. I switch it off.

  ‘Violet? I can hear you.’

  I drag myself over to the door and open it. I stand back as Kath walks in, followed by Nora and Pauline carrying a wicker basket.

  ‘What’s all this?’ I ask.

  ‘We’re staging an intervention,’ says Nora.

  Under any other circumstances, I would have laughed. Pauline puts the basket on the low coffee table and opens it.

  ‘Look, thanks, whatever this is, but—’

  Kath raises her palms. ‘I’m sorry, Violet, but we’re not prepared to simply stand by and watch you cut yourself off from people who care. You not coming last night was the last straw.’

  ‘I’m fine; have never felt better.’

  ‘You don’t look it,’ said Pauline bluntly.

  I shake my head. ‘All those months you let me go around looking like a scarecrow. I finally get my act together and that’s when you decide to intervene? I don’t get it.’ I look at Nora. ‘Especially you, who is such a big fan of so many fashion-conscious celebrities and love following them on social media. Why can’t you at least recognise that I’m simply trying to improve myself like… like your favourite Kardashians?’

  ‘But they’ve got curves, Violet. Boobs and bums, like you used to. And they’re celebrities, a spectacle, not real people I care about. I hate to get personal, but you’re wasting away.’

  ‘And I’m sorry you’ve wasted a journey,’ I say stiffly. ‘But there is no cause for alarm.’

  ‘Aren’t you even going to ask us to stay for a cup of tea?’ says Kath and sits down on the sofa. She calls over Flossie, who looks happy that her day is turning out to be more exciting than of late.

  ‘Look,’ says Pauline and lifts up the lid of the basket. ‘We do want to support you, Violet. There’s only healthy stuff in here. Carrot sticks, wholemeal sandwiches, hummus dip and fruit. Let’s have lunch together. Talk about that brilliant book Vox.’

  ‘You should have rung. I appreciate it, honestly, but I’m not feeling well.’ Bella warned me once that envious friends might lace food like sandwiches with full-fat butter.

  ‘You won’t even let us stay to talk for a few minutes?’ said Kath. ‘Even the women in that book are allowed one hundred words.’

  ‘But what you’ve got to say won’t be that concise, will it?’

  ‘It could be,’ says Pauline. ‘I like a challenge.’ She fishes in her handbag for a notebook and gives everyone a sheet of paper. The three of them squeeze onto the sofa with faces as perplexed as mine.

  ‘Look – this is silly,’ I say. ‘Surely you’re not suggesting – there’s no need.’

  ‘I think there is,’ says Pauline. ‘And where’s the harm? We’ll tell you our concerns in as few a words as we can manage.’ She hands me a sheet. ‘You can tell us why we’re making a fuss over nothing.’

  I shake my head. ‘This is ridiculous. Please. Just leave.’

  ‘We’re bloggers now, Violet,’ says Kath in a light tone. ‘We work best writing things down.’

  ‘And it sounds like fun,’ interrupts Nora.

  The room falls silent. With a sigh I pick up a pen and paper. I sit down on the floor and start writing.

  ‘Me first,’ says Nora twenty minutes later. She stands up and clears her throat. I admire the burgundy trousers and orange checked top that, against all the odds, go well with her red hair. She reads out from her piece of paper.

  ‘Violet. I’ve always admired your unique sense of style. People laugh at my fur coat but I’m not bothered. And you used to be like that, dressing as you pleased without a care. At first I thought it was fun, your interest in fashion and hair – but now it’s taken a serious turn. Your great figure used to go in and out. Now it’s straight up and down. As for those gorgeous curls… Lenny has left the door open for a real man to stride in and win your heart. And he will. You don’t need to change one iota.’

  She sits down on the sofa. Ever the romantic, what Nora doesn’t get is that my new image is to empower me as a woman. It’s not all about trying to hook a man.

  Kath puts on her glasses. ‘What a difference you’ve made to my life, Violet. Helping me day-to-day. Laughing with me. Ferrying me around to appointments. You’re an angel I miss sharing cake with. A truly genuine person. That rare beast is difficult to find these days. During my years of nursing I’ve seen the damage, caused through many illnesses, by a lack of weight. Anaemia. Weak bones. Infertility. That’s where you are heading unless you realise this lifestyle is too extreme. The clothes, the hair, the make-up – that’s all good fun. But please don’t mess with your body.’ She takes her glasses off.

  I realise I’ve folded my arms. Kath is speaking to me as if I’m a reckless child. I’d bet my life savings on the fact that my juiced breakfasts are healthier than her toast.

  Pauline clears her throat. ‘Violet. The evidence is there that your makeover is damaging. You’re off work, for a start. You’ve cancelled meeting up with us. Your change in image is becoming more than a physical revolution. Be careful, love. Bella sounds great but try to be objective. Don’t be led astray. I know from my policing career that can so easily happen. Follow your own heart and the voice inside that tells you what is right and wrong. ’

  Pauline is suggesting Bella is some sort of criminal?

  ‘How about you, Violet?’ says Kath. ‘You’ve written something too.’

  Everything they’ve said confirms I’ve used the right words. My chest tightens as I look at my piece of paper and stand up. ‘I know you don’t mean to interfere but I’m an adult, not a child. Please don’t take offence but I suggest you are out of touch. Look in any magazine. My size is not uncommon. Times have moved on. My cholesterol level must have drastically fallen. I can run up the stairs. Bella empowered me not to collapse in a heap when
Lenny left. I wish you could be more supportive but you don’t understand. Therefore I suggest we take a break. Nothing in life stays the same. That includes looks, relationships – and friendships.’

  I fold up the note. Nora opens her mouth but after a look from Kath it shuts. The three of them stare for a moment as if willing me to take back what I said. Instead I lean forwards and close the lid on the basket.

  ‘Thanks for caring,’ I say. ‘And I’ll keep reading your blog. I’m really proud of how hard you’ve all worked. I’ve not missed a post and don’t intend to. And any problems you have, just email me. I’m still happy to help online. But at this point, being in your company is doing more harm than good, and you are very capable of running the book club on your own.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s for the best,’ says Nora flatly. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever felt my age in your company.’

  Kath pushes herself to her feet. The others follow. I open the door and they file out.

  Chapter 22

  It’s Friday. I feel a massive sense of relief since speaking to the book club yesterday. I’m free now. Free to do what I want without inquisitive eyes. Hopefully Farah’s got the message too. I wake up to a blue sky and jump out of bed. I drink a juice and feel an adrenaline high in the shower as I sing one of Bella’s favourite pop songs, which she said I should learn because it’s so uplifting.

  After having my say with Kath and the others yesterday, the euphoria of having stood up for myself enabled me to get back to Casey. We didn’t talk about Wednesday night. Instead he invited me to a friend’s house party in Soho tonight. We’ll meet at Tottenham Court Road underground station at eight.

  I hurry out of the shower and get dressed for work. I’ll need to go shopping again as I must have dropped almost another size. When I head into the lounge to look for my handbag, Bella is playing Unapologetic Bitch by Madonna.

  ‘Here, catch!’ She shoots me a mischievous smile and throws over a banana. She looks amazing, having had her hair tinted pink and wearing lipstick to match. We each use our fruit as a microphone. I know all the words. Bella always turns off my jazz and puts on her CDs. I don’t mind.

  I’m still whistling that tune as I stride into work. Hugo waves and asks if I’m okay. I give the thumbs up and say how much I like his cheerful yellow tie.

  I walk into the office and nod at Irfan.

  ‘Feeling better?’ he says. A chill hangs in the air. I don’t blame him. Farah is his wife. Loyalty’s important. I wonder if Lenny will ever learn that.

  ‘Yes. Sorry I couldn’t come in yesterday. Anything I should know?’ I pass him a takeaway coffee. I popped into a cafe on the way over. ‘It’s your favourite hazelnut latte.’

  He doesn’t reach for it. ‘You know Farah doesn’t like me drinking those now.’

  ‘Okay. Have mine. A straight black with an extra shot. I’ve not drunk out of it yet.’

  After hesitating, he accepts my cup. ‘So yesterday…’ Irfan takes a sip and puts down the drink. His brow smooths out. ‘The meeting with Felicity went well. Lots of ideas thrown around. You can read the minutes. They should be emailed out to us all today. And Me and Mr Jones, the young adult novel by Kathy Freeman—’

  ‘How’s it doing? Did it make the Guardian review pages?’

  ‘That happened last week,’ says Felicity as she walks past and shoots me a quizzical look. Her gaze moves to Irfan and he shrugs.

  ‘Of course, I mean…’ What’s their problem? I can’t be expected to keep track of every fucking book.

  ‘We’ve just found out it’s also been shortlisted for a school library award,’ says Felicity and heads into her office.

  ‘That’s fantastic,’ I say to Irfan. ‘But then Kathy deserves it, the way she’s dealt with such a sensitive subject.’ The story is about a schoolgirl who is groomed by her teacher. Irfan and I suspect it is based on personal experience.

  ‘Violet, come into my office,’ calls Felicity.

  I follow her and perch on one of the chairs opposite her desk. I’m still holding the latte and put it down next to her phone. She hangs her light jacket on the back of her chair, sits down and leans back.

  ‘Sorry about yesterday,’ I say, ‘I wasn’t well and—’

  She holds up her palm. ‘It’s okay. I’m more worried that you seem to have taken your eye off the ball recently. Irfan, he mentioned—’ She cleared her throat. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I reply brusquely. ‘I’ve just been tired and…’

  Felicity nods and stares for a moment. ‘Okay. Well, perhaps get some earlier nights.’ She gives a stiff smile. ‘Too much reading into the early hours?’

  ‘Something like that,’ I say brightly.

  ‘I hear you and am surprised I’m so chirpy today. I haven’t had a single minute’s sleep. I read Alien Hearts by Casey Wilde. I received the submission yesterday and couldn’t put it down. Before I knew it, my clock said four am.’

  ‘I’ve read it too.’

  ‘Irfan mentioned that as he was leaving last night. That’s why I want to chat.’ She grabs the latte and takes a mouthful. ‘How come you got an early look?’

  ‘Lenny works for his agent. When we were still together, he was so excited and emailed it to me confidentially.’

  ‘His?’

  ‘Casey’s a man.’

  ‘Wow. This author gets more and more intriguing. My gut tells me Alien Hearts is going to be massive.’ She takes another sip of the drink. ‘We need to do everything we can to sign Wilde. What can you tell me about him?’

  ‘He grew up in a female-dominated environment. He works as a hairdresser. He’s popular with and loves the opposite sex. He’s got nothing but respect for women and I think you’ll agree that comes across in the manuscript.’

  She nods.

  ‘And, of course, it’s not just a romance – it’s science fiction. Casey’s travelled widely and I think that’s put him in a strong position to create an alien world that is very different to civilised western society.’

  ‘And that alien world is so deep and intricate – dare I say his thoroughness reminds me of Terry Pratchett.’

  ‘Are you going to put in an offer?’

  ‘I need to think about my strategy. You sound as if you know him fairly well.’

  ‘Our paths have crossed a couple of times and Lenny told me things…’ I try to keep it light. ‘You should know that Beatrix Bingham has approached him.’

  Felicity’s face darkens.

  ‘We need to play clever, then.’ She picks up a biro. ‘Although it’s questionable as to whether Alpaca or Thoth are going to be able to compete with the big advances I’m sure the larger publishers will offer.’

  ‘Casey’s a man of integrity. If he senses our passion, who knows? Perhaps invite him to next week’s party.’ This could work well. ‘Say no pressure, it’s just to give him a taste of how Thoth works. I could pass on the invitation tonight, as it happens – I think he’s going to a do I’m attending.’ I hope she doesn’t press for details about the house party.

  ‘Oh? A book launch?’

  ‘Um… it’s a poetry reading,’ I say, knowing Felicity isn’t a poetry fan. ‘It’s a monthly event I go to in—’

  ‘Great, well that’s an excellent idea. Otherwise he won’t get it until next week and might have made plans. I’ll slip in a personal note. Pass by my office this afternoon and it’ll be ready.’

  She opens her laptop, which is my cue to leave. When I get back to my desk, Irfan is on the phone with an over-anxious author, by the sounds of it, who wants to know what we are doing to improve their disappointing sales. I sift through my paperwork and consult the week’s diary. This afternoon I’ll be doing the structural edits on my favourite author’s latest work-in-progress. Before I know it, lunch time is here. Bella can’t meet me for shopping because the spa is too busy. But she’s texted me a list of the kind of outfit she thinks I should wear.

  I’ve come to rely on her opinion so m
uch. Sometimes it feels suffocating, but then I remind myself of how low and directionless I was before I met her.

  I buy an off-the-shoulder top for tonight and white jeans from the children’s department, just to get that tight fit. Bella had told me to try the girls’ section and said fitting those clothes proved that I had reached the ultimate size. Succeeding gives me a high like no other, as if I’ve achieved something that would be impossible for your average woman. I text Bella to tell her and she congratulates me with a suitable gif.

  I manage to get back to Thoth with five minutes to spare.

  ‘Out tonight?’ Hugo says. ‘Where’s the old Violet? Won’t Flossie miss you?’ He digs my ribs in jest and I flinch. I wonder if his finger left a bruise. There’s no flesh to protect me.

  ‘How about you? A date?’

  ‘Brace yourself. I’ve been seeing the same woman for a few weeks. This might get serious.’ He fills me in on the gossip from yesterday. A reality celebrity turned up to discuss Thoth ghost-writing her life story. ‘The camera really does put on ten pounds. There was nothing to her.’

  That’s what my book club friends didn’t understand. Wallis Simpson really was right. You can never be too thin.

  I spend the afternoon in edits. Half past four and I’m done. I don’t have time for a coffee with Farah and Irfan tonight. Not that she asks. But I still get a hug. She asks if I’m feeling better. Then turns to go.

  ‘I love your top,’ I say. It’s a beautiful silk.

  ‘Thanks. It’s comfy, if nothing else.’

  ‘That shade of green really suits you.’

  She doesn’t reply. The couple depart. Inwardly I sigh. So Farah thinks she can tell me a few hard truths but won’t accept them back? She feels she can comment on how slim she thinks I am, yet doesn’t like it when I suggest that maybe she’s carrying a few extra pounds? Well, I’ve done all I can. It’s up to her now if she wants to continue this awkwardness. It’s the same with my retirement home friends. They don’t like to be made to feel old. I don’t like to be made to feel like a child.