Foursome (4 page)

I’ve noticed that today she is looking quite smart, apart from the pomegranate detritus, so I’m guessing she’s got a date tonight. Jim, forty, interests: listening, nodding and being bored to death. Would like to learn to play the xylophone. Well, good luck to her. Maybe once she does finally talk some poor bloke into submission she’ll calm down a bit and shut up and do her job properly.

Actually, she’s been making more of an effort looks-wise for a couple of weeks now. Plus she’s been answering the phone, which is always a sign that she has a man on the go. Ever since I picked up once and it was her latest boyfriend and I told him she had just nipped out to the doctor’s to get the results of her chlamydia test. I can’t remember why. She’d annoyed me somehow. By the time she’d realized who it was I was talking to he’d hung up. It was no great disaster. She’d rung him back and explained and it had all been fine. He dumped her a few weeks later anyhow I seem to remember. I found out when she came in all red eyed with no make-up on one day and Phone Wars commenced again.

She’s chattering on, of course, and I realize I haven’t heard a word she’s said for about an hour now, so I do what I always do, which is nod and smile and pretend I’m agreeing with whatever it is I’ve missed. Then I notice she’s getting up and putting her coat on so I realize I’ve agreed to her going for lunch first even though it’s meant to be my turn. Fine. It’s an hour’s peace either way.

I use the time to call Zoe on her mobile. I can tell she’s with her friends because she doesn’t say anything that gives away that it’s her mother she’s speaking to.

‘Hey,’ she says when she answers.

‘Hi, sweetie. Are you OK?’

‘Mmm hmm.’

She’s not exactly forthcoming so I cut to the chase. ‘Have you seen William today?’

Zoe’s worst nightmare has come true. Her uncool little brother has landed up at her school and I’m expecting her to keep an eye on him at break time.

‘No,’ she says, reverting to her thirteen-year-old self and giving the word two extra syllables.

‘Well, could you maybe look out for him in the canteen?’

William is nowhere near as socially confident as his sister. He’s – how can I put this? He’s… a bit weird, people who don’t love him as much as I do might think. He’s into science and history and he likes to dress a bit like a nineteenth-century fop. He hates his name being shortened and always corrects people if they call him Will. He’s a total one-off and I adore him for it. What he’s not is ready for the social fascism of the Barnsbury Road comprehensive. I worry about him.

‘Just try and have a sneaky look out for him,’ I say. ‘Check he’s OK.’

Zoe says nothing.

‘Oh, and eat some lunch,’ I add just before she says a hurried, ‘Later,’ and hangs up.

Zoe, like Lorna, is on a permanent diet. Like Lorna, she is as skinny as a rake and I keep myself up at night imagining her wasting away to nothing then years of force-feeding followed by an early death from a weakened heart. I have a tendency to indulge myself in worst-case scenario fantasies about the people I love. It’s a defence mechanism, I think. If I torture myself by imagining how I’d cope with the bleakest possible horrors, then I figure I can deal with whatever shit actually does occur. I force myself not to think about William spending his dinner hour alone or, worse, being bullied by gangs of older boys. I can’t call him. We bought him a phone when he started his new school two weeks ago and he lost it on day one. He loses everything.

By the time I get home in the evening both the kids are there, limbs intact, and no one’s fighting. Zoe even helps me cook dinner for once, which makes me think she wants something but I stop myself from asking what it is – ‘Are you pregnant?’ being perhaps a slight overreaction to your daughter offering to peel the potatoes. William is in one piece and is talking about his new friend Sam who is in his class and who, apparently, has a microscope set up in his bedroom to examine dust for bed bugs. Great. That’ll help William on his entry into high society. Still, I tell myself, at least he has a friend. Dan is on his way home early, his last appointment having been cancelled. All is right with the world. And then my mobile rings. William picks it up.

‘It’s Uncle Alex,’ he says, and before I can say anything he answers.

I’m thrown into a momentary panic. I haven’t spoken to Alex since our lunch. Probably the longest period of no communication we’ve ever had because even when one of us is on holiday he and Dan talk all the time and I usually pop on to the phone to say hello.

‘Bed bugs,’ William is saying. ‘They live off the dead skin you leave on your sheets. Millions of them.’

I think about leaving the room as if I have to go to the toilet, but I know that William will only follow me and there’s no way I can explain to him that I don’t want to talk to his favourite uncle. Too late, anyway. William is holding the phone out to me.

‘Mum,’ he’s saying impatiently. ‘Wake up.’ ‘Wake up’ is one of William’s favourite expressions. He thinks it’s hilarious.

‘Hi, Alex,’ I say, trying to sound friendly but businesslike. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Great,’ he says. ‘Fantastic, actually.’

Really? He does sound cheerful, in fact, something that has been missing for the past couple of months or so.

‘That’s good,’ I say cautiously. I hope it’s true. I hope he’s come out the other end of whatever he was going through and that he feels like his old self again. Maybe he’ll see sense, move back home and we can all write his recent behaviour off to temporary insanity.

‘Really,’ he says. ‘Actually, Rebecca, that’s why I’m ringing you.’ He pauses for dramatic effect. ‘I’ve met someone. A woman.’

‘Gosh,’ I say, sounding like a schoolgirl from the 1930s, but I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know how I feel. I should be delighted for him but a part of me wants to say, ‘Hold on, what was all that crap about you being in love with me, then? Why did you just put me through that?’ I momentarily consider whether I might be jealous, whether any part of me was actually getting off on the fact that he wanted me, but the answer is definitely no.

‘Well?’ he says.

‘Alex, that’s brilliant. I’m really pleased for you. Honestly.’

‘Are you?’ he says, and I think I detect a tiny hint of disappointment there.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Good,’ he says. ‘Because I was worried because of… you know. I wanted to apologize, by the way, for putting you on the spot like that. I’ve realized now it was just an aberration, fear of ending up on my own, something like that.’

‘Exactly,’ I say. ‘So, who is she?’

‘She’s great,’ he says, and he’s brimming over with enthusiasm so I forget everything that’s gone on between us and I feel genuinely happy for him. It’ll be good to have the old Alex back.

‘She’s kind and clever. And she gets me. She’s really supportive about my writing.’

Implicit in that last statement is the fact that I was not. I change the subject. ‘Where did you meet her? More to the point when can
we
meet her?’

‘Oh, you already have,’ he says with a hint of triumph.

‘Really? Who? Tell me?’ I’m hoping it’s that nice Nadia from the girls’ school. The teaching assistant. She’s single, or at least she still was when William left in the summer. I think he asked her to marry him on the last day.

‘It’s Lorna.’

I feel my heart quicken a little. ‘Lorna?’

‘Your Lorna from work.’ He gives me a moment to let the full horror sink in. I’m speechless. My mouth opens and shuts without anything coming out.

‘I knew you’d be surprised,’ the master of understatement says. ‘We met at that opening night, remember?’

I do, of course, remember. How could I forget that I thought he’d find it funny?

‘Anyway,’ he carries on. ‘I liked her so I decided to call and see if she fancied a drink.’

I know what he’s doing. He’s so deluded that he thinks this will tip me over the edge so that I have to admit that I love him after all. Well, fine, two can play at that game.

‘I really am pleased for you,’ I say. ‘I know you think she and I don’t get on, but if it makes you happy…’

‘Oh, she told me she’s tried to get along with you.’

I bite my tongue. How dare she? She’s made no effort, ever, to be anything other than mean-spirited and difficult. But I’m not going to let him see he’s getting to me.

‘Enjoy yourself. You deserve some happiness. We’ll see you soon.’

That’ll teach him. I wonder how long he’ll be able to keep it up or whether weepy red-eyed Lorna will be back at her desk tomorrow in place of the more glamorous alter ego. But then he plays his trump card.

‘Yes, you will. In about an hour, in fact. Dan just invited us over for dinner.’

He pretty much hangs up before I can respond although truthfully I have no idea how I would have responded if I was given the time. I call Dan immediately.

‘What the fuck…?’ Swearing embargo out of the window. This is too serious.

‘I know, I know,’ he interrupts. ‘But what could I do? He asked me if he could bring his new girlfriend over and I said yes before he told me who she was. At least that explains where he’s been the past few weeks. I was beginning to think I’d done something to upset him.’ That’s so typical. Dan always assumes that he must be to blame for everything even though he never puts a foot wrong.

‘Oh God,’ I say. ‘Anyone but Lorna.’

Dan has met Lorna a couple of times over the years so he knows where I’m coming from. He laughs. ‘I know. But look at it this way. Alex is just dipping his toe back into the water. He just needs to have a bit of fun to help him back in the game.’

‘Fun? Lorna?’ I can’t stop myself saying.

‘Maybe that’s the wrong word. Just think of her as a stepping stone. She’s a transitional step on the way to some fantastic woman he’s going to meet in the future.’

I grunt. ‘He had a fantastic woman already. He doesn’t deserve another one.’

‘We can make it an early one,’ Dan says, ignoring my last comment. ‘Only make one course and make it something we can shovel in and get rid of them by nine.’

I laugh despite myself. ‘Soup,’ I say. ‘That way we don’t even have to wait for them to chew.’

‘Perfect,’ Dan says.

Rebecca and Daniel, Alex and Lorna. It doesn’t even sound right.

5

So, here they are standing on my doorstep. Alex and Lorna. Holding hands like love’s young dream. He has a smug expression on his face that says ‘see what you’ve made me do?’ while she is smirking at me triumphantly.

‘Hi,’ I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, which isn’t much. ‘Come in.’

Dan is all smiles. ‘Hi, mate,’ he says, getting Alex into a bear hug before he can even take off his coat. ‘Hi, Lorna.’

He couldn’t look happier for them. I know he has reservations too, but he’s determined not to show them. He’s so desperate for his friend to be back to his old uncomplicated, cheerful self that he’d be happy if Alex went out with Myra Hindley so long as she made him smile. I stand slightly paralysed by the front door. Am I really going to have to invite Lorna into my home? Into my life?

Too late.

‘Come on in,’ Dan is saying. And he manoeuvres them through to the living room. At least, that’s what he tries to do. Lorna has other ideas and follows me into the kitchen.

‘I bet this is a surprise! I’ve been dying to tell you,’ she gushes, as if we really were friends, the kind who never keep secrets from each other. ‘Only we thought we should wait a few weeks. Alex thought you might find it a bit… you know.’

‘No,’ I say defensively. ‘A bit what?’

‘A bit awkward, what with us working together.’

Oh, so not awkward because he only just finished telling me I was the love of his life, then? I’m angry. I know exactly why he’s doing this. It’s pathetic.

‘He wanted to tell you himself but then he said he had to wait because things had been a bit funny between you lately so he didn’t like to call you.’

Great. So Alex is already confiding in her about me although not, of course, the whole truth. That would be too much to hope for. I decide not to rise to the bait, which though unintentional is just as infuriating.

‘So, when did you get together?’ I ask in an effort to be friendly.

‘Well, we met at Gary’s opening – you know that. After all, you introduced us!’

There’s an implied exclamation point at the end of her sentence as there almost always is.

‘And then Alex called me at work the next day and asked me if I wanted to go out!’

The day after I told him I wasn’t interested. The day we had lunch and he told me all over again that he was in love with me. What a coincidence. I almost feel sorry for her.

She’s still talking. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t notice anything. Didn’t you wonder why I’d started going out for lunch every day?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘I didn’t.’

Thinking about it, she has been going out more than usual. Usually she brings her lunch with her – crispy lettuce, Ryvita, carrots, the noisiest diet food she can find – and sits crunching at her desk. She always insists I stay and answer the phones while she eats because she’s on her break, so I have to sit there counting the seconds between bites, cringing every time she lifts a bit of food to her lips.

‘Anyway we’ve been spending all of our time together and I know it’s only been a few weeks but I think it might be serious. You know, I think we might end up moving in together or something!’

I’m chopping salad. I have a knife in my hand. It’s tempting. Instead I say, ‘Do you want a glass of wine? Dinner’ll be ready in a few minutes.’

Just get them fed, get them out of here and then Alex can feel he’s made his point and hopefully we can all get back to normal.

Of course dinner goes on for hours. Alex is so hell bent on showing me how over it he is, how happy with his new love, that he’s the life and soul of the party, and Dan is just so relieved that he matches him drink for drink and they guffaw away at each other’s stories until at one point the kids, who have eaten early and then gone to Zoe’s bedroom to watch TV, come in and William says, ‘Are you still here?’

‘More to the point, are you still up?’ Dan says, looking at his watch.

‘Well, there was no point trying to sleep with all the racket you’re making,’ Zoe says, and she’s got a point. God knows what the neighbours downstairs think.

Lorna is a bit drunk too and laughing uproariously at everything Alex says, funny or not. He’s in storytelling mode and regales her with all sorts of tales about our exploits that I would rather she didn’t know. He tells her about the time only a couple of months ago when we’d all been out for a boozy dinner and drunk way too much, and I fell down the kerb getting into the taxi and then couldn’t get up again I was laughing so much.

‘I think she called in sick the next day,’ he says. ‘Food poisoning.’

‘Oh,’ Lorna says, wide-eyed. ‘I remember when you said you had food poisoning! Well, next time I’ll know that just means you’ve had a few too many!’

I try and laugh along with them, but the truth is I’m embarrassed. Like everyone does when they call in sick, I remember that I’d made a big deal of going into what I’d eaten, trying to make it sound genuine. Protesting too much, Dan always calls it. He says I should just call up and say I’m not coming in, I don’t feel well, without going into all the details because that’s where you get caught out. And he’s right, clearly.

‘I always thought you were such a goody-goody,’ Lorna says. ‘Joshua and Melanie are always going on about how hard you work and aren’t you great.’

‘And don’t even ask her what she’d been doing the night before she called up and said she had a migraine that time,’ Alex says, and I say, ‘OK, Alex, I think Lorna’s heard enough stories about my sick days. Can we change the subject?’ I can’t even remember what incident he’s alluding to but whatever it is I don’t want to share it with the group. I start to clear the table and even collect glasses, which, I think, says very firmly that dinner is over. No one makes an effort to move so I give Dan a look that he can’t fail to ignore.

‘Right,’ he says, standing up. ‘I’ve got an early start in the morning so I’m going to throw you out now.’

Before they have a chance to protest he busies himself getting coats and opening the front door, practically herding them outside. Lorna gives me a hug, which unnerves me, and says thank you so much for dinner and I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

Alex smirks and says, ‘Maybe we could all go out at the weekend?’ and I want to punch him.

‘He’s just doing it to piss me off,’ I say to Dan as he closes the front door.

‘Why would he do that?’ Dan says, bemused, and of course I can’t tell him why so I just shrug my shoulders. ‘He obviously likes her,’ he adds.

‘It won’t last,’ is the only parting shot I can muster as I stomp off to bed.