Marian Keyes - Lucy Sullivan Is Getting Married (34 page)

"So if he arrived on your doorstop, begging you to take him back, you'd forgive him?" asked Megan, continuing to press me.

I didn't like the sound of that. I had a vague picture in my head of a ter- ribly unfortunate woman, whose man beat her up and stole her money and had affairs with her friends.

"Megan," I said, anxiously, "I'm not one of those women who get treated badly by their man, but still take them back time after time after time."

"That's funny," said Megan. "Because you certainly act just like one."

"Only for Gus," I explained. "Only for Gus. I wouldn't do it for every man I ever met. Gus is worth breaking rules for," I added.

"So it seems," she said.

I felt a strange desire to hit her.

"But so what?" she boomed, determinedly upbeat. "You'll get over him. In two weeks time you won't even remember his name; you won't even know what all the fuss was about!"

53 I could hear the screaming from three floors below, the dreadful sounds of an animal in pain or a woman giving birth or a child being scalded.

Something terrible had happened and as I ran up the stairs, I realized that the wails were coming from our apartment. 408 / marian keyes

"Oh, Lucy," gasped Charlotte, as I fell in the front door. "I'm so glad you're here."

She was lucky. I was only home because there was no one to go for a drink with after work, except Barney and Slayer, the two Neanderthals from the mailroom.

"What's wrong?" I asked in horror.

"It's Karen," she said.

"Where is she? Is she hurt? What is it?"

Karen burst out of her bedroom, her clothes askew, her face red and blotchy with tears and threw a glass at the wall which shattered around the hall.

"The bastard, the bastard, the bastard!" she shrieked.

Something was very wrong with Karen, but at least there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her physically, although her hair could have done with a comb. There was a strong smell of alcohol coming from her.

Then she noticed me.

"And it's all your fault, you stupid bitch, Sullivan," she shouted.

"What's my fault? I haven't done anything," I protested, feeling guilty and frightened.

"Yes, it is. You introduced me to him. If I'd never met him, I'd never have fallen in love with him. Not that I am in love with him, I hate his guts!" she roared, running back into her room and flinging herself face-downward on her bed.

Charlotte and I followed.

"Is this something to do with Daniel?" I muttered to Charlotte.

"Don't say his name!" screeched Karen. "I never want to hear his name spoken in this apartment ever again."

"You know the way you've been the Spinster of this Parish?" muttered Charlotte to me.

I nodded. lucy sullivan is getting married / 409

"Well, you're not the only one now," she said.

So there had been a breakdown in the Daniel-Karen alliance.

"What's happened?" I asked Karen, gently.

"I broke up with him," she gulped, reaching for a bottle of brandy on her nightstand and swigging from it. Over half of it was already gone.

"Why did you break up?" I asked, intrigued. I had thought she really liked him.

"Just never forget it, Sullivan. I broke up with him, not the other way round."

"Fine," I said nervously. "But why?"

"Because...because..." Tears began rolling down her face again.

"Because...I asked him if he loved me and he said, he said...he...he...he..."

Charlotte and I waited politely for her to get to the point.

"...he...DIDN'T," she finally managed and started that awful wailing again.

"He doesn't love me," she said, staring at me with unfocused, miserable eyes. "Can you believe it? He said he doesn't love me."

"If it's any help, Karen, I know what it's like. Gus broke up with me only two weeks ago, remember?"

"Don't be so fucking stupid," she said thickly, through her tears. "Gus and you weren't serious, Daniel and I were."

"I took Gus very seriously," I said stiffly.

"Then you were a fool," said Karen. "Anyone can see that he's crazy and unreliable and flighty. But Daniel has a, a...a GOOD JOB!"

She became incoherent with sobbing again and I couldn't really make out what she was saying. Something 410 / marian keyes

about Daniel owning his own apartment and having an expensive...yard, was it? No, no, sorry, an expensive car.

"Things like this don't happen to me," she sobbed. "It wasn't part of the plan."

"They happen to everyone," I said gently.

"No, they don't. They don't happen to me."

"Karen, really, they happen to everyone," I insisted. "Look at me and Gus..."

"Don't compare me to you," she screamed. "I'm nothing like you. Men break up with you, and you," she said nodding at Charlotte. "But they don't break up with me. I don't permit it to happen."

That shut Charlotte and me up.

"Oh God." Karen commenced a fresh bout of weeping. "How can I go to Scotland now? I've told everyone about Daniel and how rich he is. And we were going to drive up and now I'll have to pay my own fare and I was going to buy that jacket in Morgans and now I won't be able to. The bas- tard!"

She reached for the brandy bottle again.

It was a very old, rare brandy, the type that rich businessmen give to each other at Christmas, the type that you're not really supposed to drink. It's meant to be a decoration piece, more an ostentatious display of wealth than something you mix with ginger ale.

"Where did you get this?" I asked Karen.

"Took it from that bastard's apartment when I was leaving," she said viciously. "Only sorry that I didn't take more."

Then came more tears.

"And it's such a lovely apartment," she howled. "And I was going to decorate it, I was going to make him buy lucy sullivan is getting married / 411

this wrought iron bed that I saw in Elle D�cor. He's such a bastard."

Yes, yes, yes, quite.

"We must sober her up," I said.

"We could make her eat something," suggested Charlotte. "I'm hungry."

But as always, there was nothing in the apartment except some old low- fat yogurt.

So we went to the Cash'n'Curry. Because until that day, we'd only ever gone there on Sundays, our appearance caused consternation and confusion among the staff.

"Here, I could have sworn that today was Monday," said Pavel, in Bangladeshi, to Karim when the three of us walked in.

"Christ, me too," agreed Karim. "But it must only be Sunday. That's great, we close an hour earlier tonight. Right, you get their wine and I'll tell the chef they're here and he can get the chicken tikka masalas going."

"Can we have a bottle of house white, please?" I asked Mahmood, but Pavel was already behind the bar opening it for us. We always had exactly the same thing at the restaurant--they no longer even brought us menus. It was always one vegetable biryani, two chicken tikka masalas, pilau rice and white wine. Only the number of bottles of wine varied, but it was al- ways at least two.

While we waited for the food we managed to piece together exactly what had happened with Karen and Daniel.

It seemed that Karen had been certain that Daniel had fallen in love with her and decided she was ready for a declaration to that effect. That would have given them enough time to buy an engagement ring before they went to Scotland, where they would break the happy news to Karen's parents. But Daniel was annoyingly reticent with 412 / marian keyes

his declaration, so Karen decided that she had better take events into her own hands, what with the date of their departure for Scotland drawing nearer. So, fully certain that the answer would be in the affirmative, she asked Daniel if he loved her. And Daniel put the cat among the pigeons, good and proper, by telling her that he was very fond of her.

And Karen said, very good, but did he love her?

And Daniel said that she was a joy to be with and a very beautiful wo- man.

I know all that, Karen had said scornfully, but do you love me?

Who's to say what love is? asked Daniel, no doubt getting increasingly desperate.

Answer me, yes or no, demanded Karen, DO-YOU-LOVE-ME?

I'm afraid that my answer would have to be no, said Daniel.

Cue shattered dreams, violent argument, theft of bottle of expensive brandy, calling of a taxi, hope by Karen that Daniel would burn in hell, departure of Karen from Daniel's apartment and arrival at ours.

"He's a bastard," sobbed Karen.

Mahmood, Karim, Pavel and the one who said his name was Michael all nodded in sympathy. They had been hanging on Karen's every word. Pavel looked close to tears.

Karen gulped back a glass of wine, spilling some of it down her chin and immediately filled up her glass again.

"'Nother bottle," she called, waving the empty one at the cluster of waiters.

Charlotte and I exchanged a glance that said "She's had quite enough to drink already," but neither of us dared say it to her.

Karim brought us more wine and, as he placed the bottle lucy sullivan is getting married / 413

on the table he murmured, "This one's on us, with our commiserations."

Charlotte and I ended up getting drunk also, because we were trying to save Karen from getting any drunker by drinking as much of the wine as we possibly could. Not that it worked, because Karen yelled for another bottle as soon as the second was finished and the whole process began all over again.

Although by then I was starting to enjoy myself.

Karen got drunker and drunker. She lit the wrong and of her cigarette twice, rested the cuffs of her jacket in her dinner, knocked a glass of water into my vegetable biryani and slurred "Looked disgustin', anyway."

And then, to my absolute horror, her eyes glazed over and she slowly keeled forward until she was face downward in her plate of chicken tikka masala and pilau rice.

"Quick, quick, Charlotte," I said in panic. "Lift her up, get her face out of her dinner, she'll drown!"

Charlotte yanked Karen's head up by the hair and Karen turned a drunken, confused face to Charlotte.

"Whatta fucker you doin'?" she demanded. She had some red masala sauce on her forehead and grains of rice in her hair.

"Karen, you passed out," I gasped. "You just collapsed into your meal. We'd better get you home."

"Fuck off," she slurred. "No, I didn't. I just dropped my cigarette and I had to pick it up off the floor."

"Oh," I said, both relieved and embarrassed.

"Stupid fuck," muttered Karen aggressively. "Are you trying to say I can't hold my drink?"

"C'mere you," she beckoned Mahmood. "D'you think I'm attractive? Eh, well?"

"Most attractive," he agreed warmly, thinking for a second that his luck was in. 414 / marian keyes

"'Course I am," said Karen. "'Course I am."

"You're not," she added as an afterthought.

He looked hurt so I gave him a bigger than usual tip when we left. I had to pay because Charlotte had forgotten her purse in the excitement and although Karen tried to write a check, she was too drunk to even hold the pen.

We carried Karen home, undressed her and put her to bed.

"Drink some water, Karen, good girl, so you won't feel so bad when you wake up in the morning," said Charlotte, shoving a glass under Karen's nose. Charlotte was far from sober herself.

"I nevr, nevr want to wake up again," said Karen.

She made some funny, little whiney noises and I realized after a while that she was singing. Sort of.

"You're so vain...bet y'think thissongs aboucha. Doancha, doancha..." she whined.

"Come on, Karen, please," begged Charlotte, advancing again with the glass of water.

"Doan interrupme whem singin'. Singin' 'bout Daniel. Join in! You're so vain...betcha...think...thissongs...Come on," she said aggressively, "Sing with me."

"Karen, please," I murmured soothingly.

"Doan patronize me," she said. "Sing the fuckin' song. You're so va...come on, everybody!"

"Er, you're so vain," sang Charlotte and I, feeling very foolish. "Ahem, I, er, bet, you, um, think this song is about, ah, you..."

She passed out before we got to the second verse.

We tiptoed out of her room, shutting the door behind us.

"Oh Lucy," wailed Charlotte. "I'm so worried."

"Don't be," I said soothingly, with a confidence that I

didn't feel. "I'm sure she'll be fine. She'll bounce back in no time."

"Not about her!" said Charlotte. "I'm worried about me."

"Why?"

"First Gus goes, then Daniel, what if Simon is next?"

"But why on earth should he? It's not a contagious disease."

"But bad things always happen in threes," said Charlotte, her soft pink face crumpled with anxiety.

"Maybe they do in Yorkshire," I said kindly. "But you're in London now, so don't worry."

"You're right," she said, cheering up. "Anyway, Gus has dumped you twice, so with Daniel breaking up with Karen, that's three already."

"Well, what a pity that I didn't arrange for Gus to break up with me one more time. I could have saved Karen all this upset," I said a little tartly.

"Don't worry, Lucy," said Charlotte. "You couldn't have known."

54 And then there were three.

Slow as she usually was, Charlotte's instinct had been entirely correct. Simon did not call her at work on Tuesday, and he normally called her every day, sometimes twice a day.

When she called him on Tuesday evening he wasn't in 416 / marian keyes

and his normally friendly roommate was awkward and uncommunicative as to Simon's whereabouts.

"Lucy, I have a very bad feeling about this," Charlotte said.

She called him at work on Wednesday and Simon didn't answer his phone. Instead a woman did, and asked Charlotte, "Who's calling?" When Charlotte said "Charlotte," the woman immediately said, "Simon's in a meeting."

Charlotte called back about an hour later and exactly the same thing happened.

So, right away, Charlotte got her friend Jennifer to call and Simon was suddenly available to take the call from "Jennifer Morris."

Jennifer handed the phone to Charlotte when Simon said "Hello," and Charlotte said "Simon, what's going on? Are you trying to avoid me?"

And Simon laughed nervously and jovially and said, "Indeed not, indeed not, indeed not!"

Charlotte said that was when she really knew something was wrong because Simon would normally never say "Indeed not."

"Meet me for lunch, Simon," said Charlotte.

"Would love to, would love to," said Simon. "But no can do."

"Why are you talking like that?" asked Charlotte.

"Like what?" asked Simon.

"Like a dickhead with a mobile phone," said Charlotte.

(Which I thought was quite ironic because I had always thought that Si- mon was like a dickhead with a mobile phone. But I didn't say so because I didn't want to upset Charlotte any further.)

"No idea what you're talking about," said Simon.

Charlotte sighed. "Okay, tonight then."

"'Fraid that's impossible," said Simon. lucy sullivan is getting married / 417

"Why?"

"Business, Charlotte, business," he drawled.

"But you've never had to do that before," said Charlotte.

"First time for everything," said Simon smoothly.

"Well, when can I see you?" asked Charlotte.

"Bad news, Charlie," said Simon, "but you can't."

"Until when?" she asked.

"You're not making this easy for either of us, are you?" he asked lightly.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, Charlotte, that you can't see me."

"Why not?"

"Because it's o-v-e-r, over."

"Over? Us? You mean we're over?" she asked.

"Bravo," he laughed. "The message finally hits home."

"And when were you going to tell me?" she asked.

"I've just told you, haven't I?" he said in a reasonable voice.

"But only because I called you. Were you going to call me? Or were you just going to let me find out myself?"

"You would have gotten the message soon enough," he said.

"But why?" asked Charlotte, her voice wobbling. "Don't you, don't you...like me anymore?"

"Oh, Charlotte, don't make a fool of yourself," he said. "It was fun, we both enjoyed ourselves and now I've found someone else to have fun with."

"But what about me?" asked Charlotte. "Who will I have fun with?"

"That's not my problem," said Simon. "But, anyway, you'll meet someone else. You're bound to, with those tits."

"I don't want to have fun with anyone else," pleaded Charlotte. "I want to have fun with you." 418 / marian keyes

"Tough!" he said cheerfully. "Your time is up. Don't be selfish, Charlie, let some of the other girls have a turn."

"But I thought you cared about me," she said.

"Well, you shouldn't have taken it so seriously," he answered.

"So this is it?" she asked tearfully.

"This is it," he agreed.

"Lucy, he was like a total stranger," she said later. "I thought I knew him. I thought he cared about me, I just can't believe he could drop me so sud- denly."

"I just don't understand why!" she said over and over again. "What did I do wrong? Why did he stop loving me? Maybe I've put on some weight? Have I, Lucy? Or did I go on too much about the bad time I was having at work? If only I knew."

She shook her head in bewilderment. "There's nothing so weird as men," she sighed.

At least she wasn't tortured by the images of that boyfriend-stealing mythical woman who colored the imaginations of us small-breasted, rejected women--A Girl with Bigger Tits, because Charlotte was That Girl with Bigger Tits.

But she doubted herself in every other area.

She forced him to see her. She stalked him with a tenacity and a determ- ination that you wouldn't have believed she was capable of when you first saw her round, innocent face. She waited outside his office for a couple of days at his going-home time, then he finally agreed to have a drink with her, in the hope that she might leave him alone.

One drink led to several more and they both got very drunk and went back to Simon's and had sex.

Then in the morning Simon said, "That was very pleasant, Charlotte. Now stop hanging around outside my office. You're embarrassing yourself."