Dessi's Romance (24 page)

I hear Dad walk around the
side of the house.

‘You see,’ I say into the
hush, ‘it started off with us just being friends. Just like you suggested. Then
I started having feelings for him I just couldn’t stop...’ my voice cracks.

The hush grows into a void.
A car rushes down the street.

Silence.

Is Emma still there? If
she’s still there, I still have a chance...

But all I now hear is the
buzz of an empty line.

I have never felt more
wretched in all my life. But at least… at least I still have Abdul.

Mum comes into the room, frowns and
stares. ‘What’s wrong, sweetie?’

I can’t speak. I’m in a
state of total shock.

How can Dessi do this to
me?

‘What is it?’ She puts her
hand on my shoulder. Next minute I’m in Mum’s arms sobbing my heart out.

‘There, there,’ she says
patting me like she did when I was little. ‘Can’t be that bad, can it?’

I try to get a grip on
myself. How can I burden her when she has so much pain of her own?

She hugs me tighter. ‘It’s
because of what’s happened with Abdul, isn’t it? She’s told you, hasn’t she?’

I push her away. ‘You knew
about it?’

‘Hannah told me.’ Julie
holds me tighter ‘She was worried about what might happen to your friendship.
She feels terrible about it.’

‘She says it’s not
her
fault, she couldn’t help it.’ I’m
starting to get angry, seriously angry. I push Mum away. ‘What a load of shit!
Of course it is.’

‘Takes two to tango,’ she
reminds me. ‘Abdul is as much to blame as Dessi.’

‘I hate them both,’ I burst
out. ‘I’m never going to speak to either of them again. Dessi and her precious
virginity. Bet that’s what it’s all about... she’s gone and lost it. Why
couldn’t she have done it with someone else? Why did she go and do it with
my
guy?’

Julie reaches out to me
again. ‘It’s not that simple. These things happen.’

‘Oh, I see!’ I’m so angry I
punish the messenger. ‘Like Dad and Laura
just happened
?’

She draws back, stricken.

Oh god, I wish I hadn’t
said that. ‘Mum, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, truly.’

She hesitates. ‘You’re
hurt, I know. But you’ll get over it. Believe me.’

‘Are you over what Dad’s
done? You should be, he’s just not worth thinking about and Laura’s
unbelievably racist.’

She sighs. ‘That’s
different; we were married. What I need right now is your support. I’m so
frightened I won’t be here to see you grow up…’

‘You’ll be okay, Mum. I
just know it. You
have
to
be.’

But a great big hollow has
opened up inside me.

Mother.

Best friend.

Lover…

All gone in twenty-four
hours.

How am I supposed to cope
with three major losses and still stay half sane? Then anger almost overwhelms
me. About to burst into tears, I grit my teeth and tell myself not to be a
cry-baby. Instead I resolve they’ll be no more cheating or treachery. I might
have no control over Julie’s cancer except praying for her to get over it. Or
that Abdul prefers someone else. I remember how cold, how distant he sounded
when I phoned. Now I know why, I’m angrier than ever. What a cheating, lying
bastard! I can’t picture any payback for Abdul, at least nothing I can actually
do
.

But when it comes to
Dessi...

No wonder over the phone
she sounded strained. When I think how often I visited her in hospital, how
loyal I’ve been over the years, I’m even more furious. What kind of payback is
this? What is the best way to punish a so-called ‘close friend’? The answer
comes to me immediately. By cutting that close friend completely out of your
life.

I decide then and there to
never, ever, ever speak to Dessi again.

‘Mum,
let’s go out for tea,’ I hear myself say. ‘My treat. I’ve still got some money
left over. That bistro in the main street. We could walk there and you could
have a few drinks and not worry about driving.’

Julie manages a tiny smile.
‘Are you sure, Emma?’

‘Sure I’m sure. Go get
ready, eh?’

Julie’s face lights up.
Once again I feel as if our roles are reversed, as if I’m the mother and Julie
the child. To hell with Dessi and Abdul. At least I still have my mum and I intend
helping her get well.

After two glasses of wine
Julie goes quite giggly. In the soft light, her greying hair curling around her
cheeks, she doesn’t look sick. I use my napkin to quickly sketch my pretty
mother while she’s saying ‘If I come out of this in one piece, there’s going to
be some changes.’

‘Like what, Mum?’

‘Well, there’s nothing like
cancer to focus the mind. So first I’m going to find a proper job. There must
be something I can be good at.’

That night I end up putting
her to bed and tucking her in. Then I sit with her until she finally falls
asleep.

In my own room, I finally
unpack and find the horse brasses I bought for Abdul. Before I can allow
disappointment to flood me, I decide they’ll look great by the fireplace. The
pretty top I bought for Dessi I shove into a drawer. Once again I firmly resolve
to cut her out of my life forever…

Next morning, after a night
of tossing and turning and dreams where I find Dessi with some unknown guy and
in a fit of rage push them both over a cliff, I don’t wake until midday.

I find Julie at the kitchen
table surrounded by piles of paper. ‘What’re you doing, Mum?’

‘Oh, just getting things in
order,’ she mumbles. ‘The bank, my will. Stuff like that.’

‘Don’t talk rubbish. You’ve
got to be positive.’

She looks up with wide, sad
eyes. ‘I’ve got to be practical too. Make sure that you will be taken care of.
I’ve already asked Hannah and Graham to be your legal guardians and then…‘

My cubist woman rears up.
‘What’re you talking about? I can’t go and live with Dessi.’

‘You have to get over this
hiccup. You’ve been friends all your life.’

‘I’ll never forgive her,
never.’ Even though it hurts terribly to have to say this, I’m firm. ‘I have
other friends, Mum. I don’t need her. She’s blown it with me. Absolutely.’ Yet
even while saying this, there’s a hole in my heart I know will never be filled.
Strangely enough, it’s not Abdul I mourn. I’d only gone out with him once, and
I finally admit that he hadn’t liked me enough to even drive me to the airport.

But Dessi... how could she?
How could she betray me like this? No, no, I never can, never will, forgive
her.

Julie shakes her head.
‘This house is yours, Emma. Your father signed the mortgage over to me when he
left and it’s almost paid off. Insurance will cover anything else owing.’

A shiver runs down my
spine. I burst out, ‘Stop it, Mum! Will you please stop talking like this?’

At last Julie manages a
feeble smile. ‘Feel like a coffee?’ And once we’re settled at the kitchen table
she says, ‘Tell me about your trip.’

I do, meanwhile doing my
best not so show her how miserable I am.

I’m so miserable, even Dad notices.
‘What’s up?’ he asks.

‘Nothing. ’ But the mirror
shows bruised eyes, swollen nose, pallid cheeks.

As if in sympathy, late
afternoon there’s a storm, one of those downpours that can occur out of
nowhere.

The evening starts off
badly. I’ve invited Abdul to tea and he’s twenty-five minutes late. Because Mum
is stressed out by her job, living in a messy house and immensely worried about
Julie, she takes it out on me. ‘Tell him when I say seven, I mean seven.’

I answer the door to Abdul.

He blinks and asks, ‘You
okay?’

Hannah calls from the
kitchen. ‘Tell him we’re eating right away.’

I shake my head. ‘I’ll
explain later.’

If I ever thought
my
family would welcome Abdul warmly,
they do their best to disprove this. I had warned Hannah that Muslims never eat
pork so that’s exactly what she serves. Abdul does his best to be polite. But
in the end he tells Hannah that he’s just not hungry. Nor does it help that
Hannah worries aloud about Julie’s operation, Graham is more than usually
monosyllabic, and you can be sure that brothers will always do their best to
irritate – especially when I’ve kept to my side of the bargain by
answering the phone in case Sienna’s mother phones.

I can hardly wait to take
Abdul to my room where I close the door and then tell him about my conversation
with Emma.

To my astonishment, his
face darkens. ‘Why couldn’t you have waited?’

I gulp and swallow. More
tears trickle down my cheeks. ‘My conscience was killing me. I just had to come
clean.’

‘How could you, Dessi?’ His
voice drips acid. ‘Hasn’t Emma’s mum just found out she’s got breast cancer?
Telling her today, weren’t you only worried about yourself? How selfish is
that.’

He’s right. I know he’s
right. But what choice did I have? Of course I had to confess. Having Emma hear
it from someone else would make things even worse. I say in a tiny voice, ‘But
she’ll be mad with me, not you.’

His angry face makes it
clear that he doesn’t agree. I lie on the bed hoping to tempt him to join me.
Instead, he picks up a magazine and makes a show of reading. More tears spill
over. He glances over, sighs and joins me on the bed. Though my body enjoys
what is happening, I feel oddly distanced... as if my limbs, my skin, my bones,
belong to someone else. I breathe Abdul in, feels his skin’s texture, his hair,
his distinctive spicy smell. Deep down I know that this relationship is broken,
that it is way, way beyond mending, and that I must remember everything about
him.

Half an hour later he gets
up saying, ‘Gotta get cracking.’

‘What’s the rush?’ How I
hate that pleading note in my voice.

‘Told you, Antler’s back.
Got heaps to catch up.’

I turn away so he won’t see
my tears spill over. ‘When will I see you?’

‘I’m pretty busy,’ he says
getting dressed.

‘How about next weekend?’
It’s that awful pleading note again.

‘No way. Loads of sales
coming up.’

As I watch him fasten his
belt and fix his hair, I make a final attempt at some forgiveness. ‘Look, about
Emma. I really thought I was doing the right thing...’

‘Yes, well, I suppose you
did.’ But his eyes remain stony.

I bite my lip and taste
blood. As I follow him to the front door and watch him leave without a backward
glance, I tell myself how much I hate clingy, unhappy women. That doesn’t stop
me from going back to bed and soaking my pillow.

That night I dream that I’m
in a hospital... that a masked figure is about to cut into my right breast…

‘Help!’ I scream. The
surgeon pulls off his mask. Abdul smiles sardonically and says, ‘Punishment for
deceiving your best friend…’        

Raggedy-Anne Cinderella,

Come out of the world of what might
have been.

The prince doesn’t want you

and he’s written himself out of this
story.

I start up then fall back on my pillow.
That dream was horribly real. Outside my window, a scorching summer sun beats
down on woody fruit trees. It’s almost midday and my head feels ready to burst.
I crawl out of bed and hop into the kitchen. Jeremy is out, Hannah is at work,
Graham is hammering in the back shed.

Maybe I should ring Abdul
and apologise? But what if he says, what if I actually hear ‘I never wants to
see you again’? How would this feel? In the end I just don’t dare.

The cell phone trills. My
heart gallops and almost stops. Abdul! He’s forgiven me? No, it’s Leila. ‘How
are you?’

‘Fine, I’m fine.’ I
dissolve into tears.

‘What’s wrong?’

I’m crying too hard to
answer.

‘Hang on,’ says Leila.
‘I’ll be there in two secs.’

Half an hour later, I open
the door to her. I’ve never been so relieved to see anyone in all my life. We
hide in my room and I tell her everything.... everything... finishing off with
‘Now I’ve stuffed everything up. Emma won’t talk to me, and I suppose I deserve
it…’ though somewhere deep down I still don’t believe this ‘…and Abdul’s so
furious, I know he’ll never want to see me again.’

Leila settles more
comfortably on the bed and peers at me. ‘Have you considered why he’s this
angry?’

‘Sure. He didn’t want to
get between Emma and me.’