Love Is a Thief (29 page)

That’s when I was asked to leave.

fortnum & mason tea shop

‘Oh, so you
are
going to wait with me,’ I said as Jenny continued to sit at my table. ‘Well, that’s nice …’ I nodded as she tapped away on her mobile phone in silence. I racked my brains for things to say. ‘Thank you for presenting the idea, Jenny. I didn’t think you’d even read the proposal, if I’m honest. But you seemed to be able to recall
every single word
of it …’

‘It was a good idea, Kate,’ she said, putting the phone down and stirring a complicated coffee concoction. ‘Although I think the media has more influence on public opinion than government. You probably should have pitched your idea to the private sector.’ Helpful.

She continued to stare out of the window.

I compulsively checked my watch.

Then suddenly, out of the blue.

‘Nathanial and I separated.’ It had been quiet for so long her words startled me.

‘Nathanial?’

‘Nathanial … my husband …’

‘Oh!’ I blushed redder than a burning sun as the image of him snogging in
Liberty’s
burst into my brain.

‘It’s OK, Kate, everyone knew about the affairs. Everyone but me, although I think even I knew on some level.’ She took a small pot of cream out of her expensive handbag and started moisturising her perfect hands. ‘Kate, you won’t know this about life yet, but sometimes it’s hard to accept the things that one doesn’t understand. I’ve spent a long time stuck on the “How could he?”s and the “Why would he?”s and as long as I’ve stayed stuck I’ve avoided dealing with the truth. Cowardly I know. Anyway it’s hard to ignore things that are
literally
under your nose—’ Her voice started to wobble. She took a deep breath and another sip of coffee. ‘I am still struggling with the
“How could he?”s
but I’m not in denial any more.’

She went back to staring out of the window.

I went back to staring at my watch.

I still wasn’t sure why she’d come with me or why she suddenly felt the need to start sharing. But if she was in the mood for sharing I wouldn’t have minded a bit of the breakfast fruit salad she’d ordered herself without asking first if I might like something. And was it me or was
Avoidance
becoming a common theme in Love-Stolen Dreams?

I’d met women who were avoiding ending a relationship
(We are fine as we are / nothing’s perfect);
avoiding getting into a new one
(I won’t meet someone I like / I don’t think relationships are for me);
avoiding intimacy
(things are simpler on my own/my time has passed);
avoiding truth
(Jenny)
. We seemed so much more in control of our lives than we realised. Which meant Chad’s theory of
Responsibility Avoidance was potentially spot on, because even when we knew bad news was approaching, like Jenny, we seemed to have the ability to
choose
to ignore it until we felt ready. How was that possible? How was it possible that I had chosen to ignore Gabriel’s behaviour, hurting myself until the very last moment when I could take no more? Why did Jenny
choose
to avoid dealing with her husband’s adulterous ways? Avoidance and Choice—they were an odd combination but they seemed to go hand in hand. It was as if they were dating, or at least going steady, and I wondered how many other women were avoiding things at this very minute.

‘Jenny, may I ask what will you do now? Is there anything you didn’t do because …?’ My voice petered out. I wasn’t brave enough.

‘Is there anything I didn’t do because I fell in love?’ She raised her scarily perfect right eyebrow. ‘Yes. I didn’t get to
not
be in love, Kate. There has always been a husband, a boyfriend, another person. What I didn’t have because of all of them is not having them. I have done a lot of travelling. I like my work. I’m sure now I’m single I could have sex with different men in different ways and all those other “things” that people say they’ve missed out on. But most of all I’d really like to be alone, Kate. That I suppose is what love stole from me. Plus my agent thinks the public are very responsive to women striving to put their lives back on track in the wake of a failed marriage. Apparently having a troubled love life makes you more relatable.’ She took a small spoonful of fruit salad, then pushed the bowl away as if she was full. It just sat there taunting me with
its fruity beauty. ‘But my agent said one must rise from the ashes like a phoenix, otherwise one looks like a whiny broken-hearted wimp.’

‘You mean like me?’

‘Kate, it’s important to actually get back up after you’ve been
sucker-punched
to the floor.’

‘I can get back up. I’m up. I’m onto the next round.’

‘Really, Kate? Have you? Because you very much seem to be lying on your back on the floor.’ I was sitting on a chair opposite her.

She turned back to the window, staring out of it in silence, which was fine. I was bored with boxing metaphors and am actually very comfortable with long, protracted voids of words.

Leah and Grandma
finally
turned up 45 minutes late and walked over to join us at our table. Then they just stared at Jenny, open-mouthed, wide-eyed, also bloody silent. It was as if I were on a silent retreat. Grandma finally stepped forward and shook Jenny’s hand enthusiastically.

‘It really is a pleasure to meet you, Jenny Sullivan,’ she said, pink cheeked. ‘I absolutely love your work. You are an inspiration to a great number of women out there.’

‘Me too …’ gushed Leah. ‘Me too, I just love your work. You are so talented. Really really talented.’

Bastards.

‘You know, Jenny, and I hope you don’t mind me asking you this,’ Grandma said, sitting herself down, ‘but I have always wondered, what would your advice have been for my beautiful granddaughter? What would you have done if you were Kate?’

‘My advice for Kate has been and always will be the same. Not that she has ever asked my opinion.’

‘Goodness, Kate, you have this wonderful oracle of women’s liberation by your side every working day and you don’t indulge in her wisdom and vision?’ Was Grandma being ironic? Did ironic mean to Grandma what it meant to Peter Parker, in that I totally didn’t get it? ‘So what would you do, if you were Kate?’

I actually winced in preparation for her acerbic words. ‘If I was Kate I’d go back to France. I’d go back and I’d see this ridiculous Gabriel.’

‘What?’ Me.

‘What?’ Leah.

‘Inspired!’ Grandma said. ‘That’s
exactly
what you must do. Go back and work out why you abandoned yourself in that relationship. Now that would be progress, wouldn’t it?’ she said, patting me on the knee. ‘It’s a wonderful idea, Jenny. A true challenge. And a challenge is just what you need, dear Kate. We have been dancing around this from the very beginning. Time to set yourself free, I think. Jenny, we are very lucky that you joined us today. Very lucky indeed,’ and now she was patting Jenny on the knee.

‘Yes, we are really very lucky,’ muttered Leah, gently stroking Jenny’s knee. ‘You really are very very beautiful.’

Total complete bastards.

quest | travel back to france to see gabriel

dance studio | covent garden

J
ane had asked me to go and see her before her final rehearsal for the Pro-Am dance competition. We were supposed to be talking through an action plan for my imminent and already booked return to France but when I arrived at the studio she was pacing up and down, alone, and she was not in the least bit chatty, or at least she wasn’t in the mood to chat about me.

‘Where is he? Where the hell is he? We literally have two hours today to practise and that’s it. No more time. So where the hell is Julio?’ I really didn’t know but my phone had just beeped with a message from Leah.

6 p.m.—Karmic Awareness Course—Kings Cross. Don’t be late. Lx

‘Jane, does Leah ever make you go on these strange courses, and to these strange lectures, and on these weekends spent in remote villages with nudist Buddhists?’ Jane stifled a giggle.

‘No, she only asks
you
to do those things,’ she said, smiling at me. ‘Kate, if you just agree to do this past life regression she’ll stop. Until you do I suspect all your weekends will be spent in poorly lit rooms with lots of middle-aged women touching themselves trying to find the source of their internal karmic chakra power nonsense. You’re doing hard time until you do your past life time.’

‘But that’s not fair. Past life regression is bloody scary and weird and … scary.’

‘I’ll tell you what’s scary, Kate: scary is the fact that Julio is still bloody missing!’ Jane restarted her hypnotic pacing up and down, which is when I became mesmerised by her arse. Because very much in spite of the multicoloured leotard she was wearing that had tiny birds printed all over it, her bum looked magnificent. She caught me looking at it and smiled.

‘It’s pretty good, isn’t it?’ She rubbed her bottom with her hands.

‘Can I touch it?’

‘Sure, go ahead. It’s practically solid. My whole body is—have a touch. I’ve never had a figure like this before and it’s just down to dancing. I haven’t changed a thing. In fact I have to eat loads more than I used to, and I drink protein shakes.’

‘I want to drink protein shakes and have a rock-solid arse!’
Nothing
in this world was fair any more. ‘It’s amazing,’ I said on my knees, squeezing a bottom cheek in each hand.

‘Have we progressed from kissing everyone to actually fornicating?’ I turned to see Peter Parker sauntering towards
us, shower fresh from the gym, his hair still slightly wet. He was wearing amazing jeans and a fitted T-shirt that made his muscular arms look as if they were bursting out of it like a Banana Split. He leant down and kissed me on both cheeks. For a moment I thought I might leap up and bite his sweet-smelling neck. I made myself blush bright red with the thought of it, which confused everyone else in the room, including me.

‘So are you all set for France?’ he asked innocently. ‘Still sure this is the right thing to do? Because you don’t have to go. You could do something else.
We
could do something else.’

‘Oh, my God?’ Jane looked from Peter to me then back to Peter. ‘Peter, I’ve seen a photo of you in Kate’s flat,’ she said, beaming at him.

‘Have you?’ Peter said, looking from her to me.

‘No, you haven’t.’ Damn her.

‘Yes, I have. It’s been there for years. I mean you’re a teenage boy in the photo, but I’ve just realised it’s you. You did say his name was Peter but I just assumed it was a picture of a godson called Peter, or a nephew, or—’

‘Kate doesn’t have any brothers or sisters,’ said fact-focused Peter Parker.

‘No, she doesn’t,’ Jane said with a smile that she literally couldn’t seem to reduce. ‘So you are Peter. You are
all
the Peters. Just you. Where to put this strange piece of information I have just gleaned?’

‘I don’t think it needs to be put anywhere, Jane—’ I chuckled ‘—except perhaps through an industrial-sized
shredder, or perhaps made into a papier-mâché hat. I don’t know why I think you’ve put it on metaphorical paper …’

‘So, Peter.’ Jane beamed. ‘The 15-year-old boy from the photo who is also a bloody great handsome adult male—what can we do for you today?’

He reached into his pocket and took out two shiny pieces of paper.

‘I have two tickets to a
Take That
concert this weekend, with back-stage passes to hang out with the band. I just wondered if Kate wanted to stay in London this weekend and we could go? You could go to France another time, later in the year—the weather would probably be better then. And I could go with you, later in the year, if you wanted.’

Jane clapped her hands together and laughed at a joke I didn’t get.

‘I didn’t realise you were a fan of
Take That
, Peter?’ I said, looking at the shiny tickets up close.

‘That concert has been sold out for months,’ Jane said, taking the tickets from my hand.

‘It is sold out, and I’ve liked
Take That
for a long time,’ he said, nodding his head. ‘Since I was young, younger, I’ve been a fan.’

‘What’s your favourite song, Peter?’ Jane asked, barely suppressing a wave of strange laughter.

‘There was a song that came out a few years ago that I really liked. I don’t recall its name. I don’t have a good memory for trivia, Jane,’ he said, studying the ceiling of the dance studio.

‘Oh, I think I liked that song too.’ Jane beamed.

‘Peter, I’m going to France this weekend. Grandma has booked everything and Chad wants me to write an article about it. The working title is “How love can totally fuck you over and make you look like a giant twat”. Well I assume we’ll change the title before it goes to print.’

‘Well, that’s great news, Kate. Great, I’m sure it will be great.’ Peter looked around the dance studio, hands on hips. ‘Well, I have to go now, so have a good one and I’ll see you soon.’ He strode off towards the double doors.

‘Peter, your tickets,’ Jane said, holding them in the air.

‘Keep them, Jane,’ he said, bursting through the doors of the studio, marching past Julio, who took one look at Peter and jumped back against the wall as if in a G-force simulator. He slid along the wall like a mime artist before scurrying past Peter Parker and into the studio.

‘OMG!’ he mouthed as he reached Jane. ‘OMG he’s so hot!!!!’ He was all swinging hips and blushes.

‘Don’t
OMG he’s so hot
me—where the bloody hell have you been?’ screamed Jane.

‘I’ve just been to an audition,’ said a beaming Julio. ‘And I got it! The first one I have been to in nearly 18 months!’

‘Was Edmundo there?’

‘Yes, Jane, he was there. We were competing for the same part and I got it.’ He sort of collapsed in on himself with giggles.

‘Was he horrible to you?’

‘Actually after I beat him and was awarded THE LEAD ROLE he came straight up to me and asked me on a date!’ Jane and Federico started jumping up and down on the spot,
squealing and clapping. So I did the same. But they both stopped and just stared at me.