Still Thinking of You (40 page)

68. Girlfriends

Tash didn’t really know where to go or what to do next. She had already rung the airport earlier on that afternoon, only to discover that there were no more flights that evening. She’d asked about booking herself on to a flight home the next day, but she’d been told that there was no availability. Her scheduled flight wasn’t due for departure until Saturday. She had two nights and a day to kill. It was Rich she wanted to kill. She stood in the corridor and felt very alone. She needed a room and she needed a drink. She needed the drink first.

Tash dragged her suitcase to the lift and headed to the hotel bar.

‘Going somewhere?’

Tash turned to see Mia sitting in front of the open fire in the bar. She had a bottle of wine open, half of which she’d already drunk. Tash couldn’t imagine anyone she’d have less liked to bump into.

Except Rich.

Or Jayne.

Tash sighed. It was a small hotel, and it wasn’t exactly brimming with her favourite people. She shrugged and sat down next to Mia, giving in to the inevitability and spite of fate.

‘Yes, but only after I’ve had a drink.’

‘You can share this bottle with me, if you like.’

Tash thought that any port in a storm had never seemed more pertinent. She did need a drink. Tash could almost taste the deep-red, fruity liquid. It was just too tempting. She nodded, reluctantly. Mia signalled for the waiter to bring another glass. When he had done so and discreetly disappeared back into the fabric of the hotel, Tash said, ‘The wedding is off.’

‘Oh.’ Mia paused, then added, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’re not really,’ said Tash.

She no longer needed Mia to do a reading at the wedding, let alone to become a lifelong friend, and therefore no longer felt that she had to be diplomatic. ‘You weren’t exactly overjoyed for us when we announced the engagement.’

Mia sighed. She’d done a lot of thinking herself that day and a lot of drinking, too. One or the other made her explain herself.

‘You seemed very young.’

‘I’m twenty-seven. I’m only six years younger than you.’

‘Yes, but you were full of the giddy confidence of a twenty-something, and I am stuffed full of the deadening cynicism of a thirty-something. We seemed light years apart.’

‘Well, at least the giddy confidence has been bashed out of me now,’ groaned Tash as she took a large gulp of wine. ‘So, do you now think I am officially grown up?’

‘I think we’re all old enough to know better, but do our worst anyway,’ sighed Mia. ‘It wasn’t just your age. Rich had never introduced any of his women to the gang before. We didn’t know what to expect.’

‘Something other than me, though, hey?’

Mia shrugged. ‘And the engagement was very quick. You were bound to come across a certain amount of reservation. It wasn’t personal.’

‘It was.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be.’

The girls fell silent and together watched the open fire hiss and crackle, spitting out sizzling amber sparks that looked like tiny fireflies. Tash was too stressed to think about whether the silence was comfortable or uncomfortable. She felt too weary even to consider making polite small talk. She didn’t care any more.

Mia respected the stillness. She wished she had the courage to tell Tash that she’d had her own concerns, her own dramas, and therefore hadn’t been as polite or welcoming as she ought. She could see that now. Mia kept quiet. Tash was bound to ask what the concerns and dramas were, and Mia wasn’t prepared to share. Mia stole a sneaky, sidelong glance at Tash. Tash was correct, her self-righteous cockiness which Mia had rather charitably referred to as ‘giddy confidence’ clearly had taken a beating. Tash looked frail. She didn’t shine, and it surprised Mia that she felt sad that another light had been extinguished in the world. She thought she’d try her hand at being sympathetic.

‘I was very surprised about Jayne.’

‘You knew?’ Tash’s fury at Rich was reignited. He’d even lied about that. The gang did know. Once again she felt peculiarly excluded. She imagined Mia and Rich cosied up, Mia offering an ear and advice as Rich confided in her that he was torn between two lovers. Mia would have loved that.

‘I caught them kissing in the foyer of the cinema on Monday night.’

‘Oh.’ The relief that Rich hadn’t been confiding in Mia was shortlived as Tash computed the info. ‘On Monday night? The bastard.’

‘Quite,’ nodded Mia, with what she hoped came across as the correct blend of compassion and understanding. She didn’t want there to be a hint of ‘I told you so’.

‘I thought you were the problem,’ said Tash.

Mia should have seen it coming. What with Tash’s famed honesty, she knew she was due a home truth or two.

‘Me and Action Man? You’ve got to be kidding. It might come as a surprise to you, but not everyone finds Action Man as irresistible as you and Jayne clearly do.’

Tash glared. ‘Will you stop with the bloody nicknames? No one uses them but you.’

‘Don’t they?’

‘No, Mia, they don’t. Everyone else left them at uni. Everyone else has moved on.’

‘That’s because they all have something to move on to.’

Tash wasn’t really listening to Mia. She had a few things that she wanted to get off her chest and now, when she was awash with pain, insecurity and fury, seemed as good a time as any.

‘I always saw the “very private” nicknames for what they were, Mia – a way for you to constantly dredge up the past and continue to exclude me.’

‘Not true. I gave you a nickname, didn’t I?’

‘Calling me Barbie was unforgivable. Even Barbie Babe was tantamount to kicking my dog.’

Mia knew that Tash was right. Barbie might have a great wardrobe. But even if Mattel did give her a white coat, glasses or even an astronaut costume, the Barbie doll was never going to be a feminist icon or a contestant on
Mastermind
. Mia searched around for something conciliatory.

‘Barbie marries Action Man, doesn’t she?’

‘No. Barbie marries Ken, a eunuch, and they split after forty happy, costume-changing years. Action Man stays a confirmed old bachelor,’ said Tash crossly.

‘Not when I played with mine,’ replied Mia.

Tash looked at Mia and searched her face for any hint of sarcasm or malice. She found none. The ludicrous nature of her situation hit her. It seemed pointless arguing with this woman about plastic dolls and things that had been said about a faithless, two-timing, bastard ex-fiancé. Tash started to giggle. She feared she was clinically hysterical.

‘I’m exhausted, can we call a truce?’ said Tash.

Mia had never wanted a friend more. Delighted, she beamed at Tash, and then stunned the breath out of her by leaning in and giving her an enormous hug. Just when Tash thought it was impossible for her to sustain any more shocks or surprises, Mia burst into tears.

‘Jesus, Mia.’ Tash hugged Mia tightly and stroked her back, as Mia seemed to have no intention of loosening her grip. ‘What’s wrong? Chill, girl. Take a deep breath, and tell me what the matter is.’

‘Everyone is always telling me to chill, to relax, and to have more fun. But you know what? It’s not as easy as that. It’s almost impossible to have fun, or to be fun, for that matter, if you are unhappy.’

‘And are you?’

‘Desperately,’ sobbed Mia.

Once again Tash found herself in a position where she didn’t know what to do or say next. She was not a fan or a friend of Mia’s. She’d offered a truce; she had not expected full-on familiarity. She’d been longing for friendship for months, and there had been no sign that Mia was ever going to reciprocate the wish. But suddenly the ice maiden had melted, all over the settee.

Tash sighed. She had problems of her own. She knew what it was to feel alone and miserable. She had discovered that her fiancé was fooling around with a girl whom she had considered to be a good pal. She knew about hurt and betrayal and desperate unhappiness.

So.

‘Is this about Jason?’

‘You know?’ Mia was horrified. Had Jason been talking about them to Tash? She imagined Tash and Scaley cosied up. Tash offering an ear and advice as Jase confided in her that Mia had made a complete fool of herself trying to trick him into impregnating her. Tash would have loved that.

‘I don’t really know anything,’ said Tash, immediately dispelling Mia’s fears. ‘It was just something Lloyd said about you two being a team, a couple, even though –’

‘Even though we’re not a couple.’

‘Exactly.’

‘We nearly were. Last night I snatched defeat away from the jaws of victory.’

‘Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?’

‘I meant what I said.’

Tash looked confused. Mia took a deep breath and weighed up the risk. The chances were she wouldn’t be seeing much of Tash after this evening, not now that Rich had cocked everything up, so if she confided in her it didn’t have to be a big deal. And even if she did see Tash in the future, say, they kept in touch – and at this moment (admittedly it could have been the alcohol she consumed), Mia could imagine stranger things than keeping in touch with Tash – say they kept in touch, despite Rich having been a prick, confiding in Tash didn’t have to be a big deal.

Suddenly Mia saw Tash in a new light.

In fact, she saw everything in a new light. Tash’s life wasn’t perfect. Right now, it was pretty bloody miserable and through no fault of her own. And poor Ted and Kate, their boat wasn’t exactly sailing fortune’s seas at this precise juncture in time. Lloyd had talked to Tash about her and Jase; that showed a level of concern. A level of concern she hadn’t extended to him when he was very much in need of some mates. She had been very dismissive of all of these people. She’d jealously resented any good luck and happiness that they’d enjoyed. She’d held the illogical notion that there was only a limited supply of good things to go around – a limited supply of soul mates, a restricted quantity of babies, a ration of contentment, company and love. It was as though she believed that every engagement or birth her friends and acquaintances announced diminished her opportunities of attaining similar bliss. It was a ridiculous notion. Nonsense. Quite beneath the intelligence of a rational woman.

But, then, she hadn’t been that intelligent or rational of late. How rational was it to plan to have a baby with your best friend and try to keep it from him? She’d been desperate and desolate. She was only a short step away from bitter and a bit barmy.

She needed to talk to someone, anyone, really. Only half an hour ago she would have thought that Tash was more anyone than someone, but something had changed. Tash had just broken up with her fiancé, but she wasn’t weeping and wailing or acting like a frantic shrew as Mia might have predicted from the young and immature Tash of her imagination. Tash was behaving with composure and dignity. She was even finding it in her heart to dig up some time and sympathy for Mia, although Mia knew she didn’t deserve it. Jase liked Tash. Kate, Ted and Lloyd liked Tash. Rich loved Tash, despite his wandering dick. There had to be something about her worth liking and, now the green scales of jealousy were peeling from her eyes, Mia had the first clue as to what those qualities might be.

‘I came here to seduce him,’ she started to explain.

69. Lloyd’s Cavalry

Tash and Mia were deep in conversation. It took until the end of the bottle of wine for Mia to explain exactly how much she longed for a child. It took another half bottle for Tash to pluck up the courage to suggest it wasn’t a child per se that Mia wanted, but the whole shebang. She wanted a partner and a family. After another glass, Tash explicitly stated that, in her opinion, Mia wanted the partner to be Jason, and the whole pregnancy thing had been her subconscious trying to direct her.

Mia thought Tash was absolutely wrong – way off the mark – until they drained the second bottle. At that point Mia confessed that she’d had the same thought last night, but what should she do about it? Scaley
must
hate her now?

Tash and Mia were so deep in strategy and suggestion that they did not notice a new guest checking into the hotel, even though the tall, blonde Austrian woman with gamine limbs and tightly cropped hair was extremely striking.

Greta declined the offer of help with her bag. It was only small; she was only planning on staying until Saturday. She asked for directions to Lloyd Walker’s room and said, no, she’d rather they didn’t inform him of her arrival, she wanted to surprise him. While, technically, this was a breach of hotel regulations, the receptionist was experienced enough to know this woman was not here to make trouble and she would be a welcome surprise guest.

Greta had had enough of sitting alone at home. Alone, it was too easy to feel hurt and vulnerable. It was her belief that the manufacturers of telephones put something in the handset of mobiles and land phones which distorted conversations. Conversations that were supposed to be jovial and encouraging, or conciliatory and tender, some-how transformed into conversations which were pitted with snide jibes and hostile demands. Greta wanted to put a stop to it.

It was a mistake for Lloyd to have come away without her. He was inclined to the maudlin and the sentimental. She understood that. He’d given a lot up to be with her, she knew that. And it wasn’t easy, not for anyone. Of course, he lived with regrets, everyone did. But Greta did not believe that Lloyd ought to regret leaving his wife for her. Greta loved Lloyd. She loved him, very, very much. And she would make him happy again, if only he would let her. If he ever stopped feeling guilty and allowed himself to be happy again, she’d be by his side. And even if he never stopped feeling guilty, she would still be by his side. Because that is what she wanted, and that is what Lloyd deserved.

Greta knew that there was a reasonable chance that Lloyd would have called his ex-wife this week. He would have got drunk at some point (or, probably, at several points) and reasoned that it was a good idea to try to piece things back together with the mother of his child. He had said the same thing to her on a number of drunken occasions. That was the problem, when drink goes in, either truth or nonsense comes out, and it is sometimes hard to tell which is which. Greta knew that Lloyd wanting a reconciliation with Sophie was nonsense. Greta admitted that in a perfect world all marriages would be happy, enduring, fruitful marriages. The perfect world did not exist, not even in fairy tales. If it did, how come there were always so many step-parents in those old stories?

Logic would dictate that it was easier the second time around, and it frustrated Greta, who had a supremely logical mind, that it was not. It was a lot harder. The blissfully ignorant are a recognized body; no one ever talks about the blissfully informed. Greta had hoped that once the divorce came through, Lloyd would believe that they had a clean slate, but he did not. He argued that the only way he could start again was to go back.

He was wrong.

It was impossible to turn back time or to push water back under the bridge. The English were so fond of their funny little idioms and sayings, yet they did not heed them. Greta walked purposefully into the lift and pressed the button for the second floor. She was here to tell Lloyd it was time to lay down his baggage and move on. While she was at it, she might mention that it was time for him to cut back on his alcohol units, too.