The Art of Friendship (17 page)

It was here Kirsty told them she was pregnant with David, where Clare had announced she was to marry Liam, where Patsy broke down and told them her mother had terminal lung cancer. It was here too that Kirsty had broken her heart,
time and again, in the weeks and months following Scott’s death.

But in all those years, Janice had always held back, sharing little with her friends, bar everyday problems like what she should do about Pete’s behaviour at school. She wondered if they’d noticed. Janice swallowed, her heart brimming with emotion, and stared at an arty monochrome print on the wall. She’d always kept her past carefully segregated from her new life, as if in fear of contamination. But now past and present were merging, like watercolours on a sheet of paper, and it was impossible to keep them apart.

Keith was agitating to tell Pete the truth about his adoption. Pete would need his birth certificate to register at university – they absolutely couldn’t hide it from him any longer. She’d always known he would, one day, have to be told. But she had always resisted. And now that day was hurtling towards her and she wasn’t ready for it. She had spent years grimly holding back the tide of truth, and now it was about to come down crashing over her.

‘Hey you,’ said Clare, arriving with Kirsty, startling Janice from her thoughts.

They sat down and, before they’d even taken their jackets off, Kirsty looked at Janice and said, ‘What’s wrong?’

Janice sniffed and shook her head. She blinked hard and bit her lip and glanced at her friends. The concern on their faces was almost unbearable. Silent tears slid down her powdered cheek.

Clare gave Kirsty a sideways glance and said, shrugging off her coat, ‘This calls for a drink. And quickly.’

Kirsty nodded and got up and started fussing with coats and handbags and finding a tissue for Janice. Clare came back quickly with a bottle of wine and four glasses, and when
they were settled round the table, Kirsty rubbed Janice’s arm and said, ‘Janice, please tell us what’s wrong.’

‘It’s Pete,’ she blubbered into the scrunched-up hankie in her hand.

‘Pete? What’s wrong with him?’ said Clare, holding her glass suspended in mid-air.

The two of them sat and waited for her to go on, their faces strained.

‘Nothing.’

Janice dabbed at her eyes, composed herself and found that she felt a sudden urge to unburden herself. Telling it the first time would be the hardest, it was bound to be. And if she could do that, if she could form the words and hear them issue from her own mouth, it would be easier the next time, when she told Pete. Her friends would not judge, or jump to conclusions. She feared a much less benign reception from Pete.

‘When we moved here to Ballyfergus, I lied about Pete,’ she blurted out.

‘You what?’ said Clare.

Patsy arrived just then and approached the table with her mouth open, ready to speak. But Clare raised a hand in the air, like a policeman directing traffic, and said firmly, ‘Here, sit down, Patsy. Janice is in the middle of telling us something very important.’ She stared meaningfully at Patsy – and she, picking up on the cue, slid silently into a chair, with her coat still on.

‘I told you Keith was Pete’s dad. And he is,’ Janice added hastily. ‘What I mean is, he’s the only dad Pete’s ever known. But Keith isn’t his biological father. He adopted him when we got married.’

Relief flooded the faces of her three friends and she knew then that they didn’t understand. How could they?

Patsy shook her head, and said what the others were thinking. ‘But what’s the…I mean, I don’t understand. Lots of people are adopted. Why are you so upset, Janice?’

Janice sighed and felt some of the terror subside. The tight feeling across her chest eased off and she picked up the wine and took a long, welcome drink. She set the glass down carefully and began the tricky process of stepping through the truth, like a field full of landmines.

‘We never told Pete that Keith wasn’t his father. That was my fault,’ she admitted. ‘Keith always said we should’ve told him from day one.’

‘But why didn’t you?’ said Kirsty gently.

Of course they should have, but Janice had been unable to then, as she was now. How could she ever expect Kirsty to understand? So she shook her head and went on.

‘Now that he’s eighteen and about to go off to university after the summer, Keith says we have to tell him. He’ll need his birth certificate to register at uni.’

Patsy wriggled out of her coat, threw it over the back of her chair, and said, ‘He does have a right to know, love.’

A tight little sound escaped Janice. Kirsty touched her forearm lightly. Janice composed herself and said, ‘I know. But once we tell him, he’s going to want to know who his real father is, isn’t he?’

There was a long, silent pause as the others considered this statement.

Kirsty spoke first, in her soft Scottish burr. ‘What does it say on the certificate, Janice?’

Janice looked straight at Kirsty and steeled herself. ‘Father unknown.’

Another silence, this time more uncomfortable. Clare looked at the floor. Kirsty bit her lip, and Patsy said, carefully, slowly, ‘You’re not so worried about him finding out
he’s adopted, as him wanting to know who his real father is, aren’t you, love?’

Janice nodded, the tears dried now but her heart still heavy with worry. She cleared her throat. The skin on her face felt taut, like a canvas stretched over a frame. ‘I do know who Pete’s father is.’

Another pause, the air between them heavy with anticipation.

‘But I can’t tell him. I won’t ever tell him,’ said Janice, her resolve hardening. ‘He’ll just have to accept what it says on the birth certificate. I’m not telling him anything more.’

The women glanced at each other and Janice held her chin up, resolute.

‘But he’s bound to ask questions, sweetheart,’ said Patsy tentatively, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘What explanation will you give him then?’

Janice shrugged. ‘I’ll just refuse to say anything.’

‘But he might think that…’ began Patsy, and her voice trailed off, unable in the end to articulate her thoughts.

‘I don’t care
what
he thinks!’ cried Janice, sudden anger rising inside her. She clasped her hands together so tightly they hurt.

The others glanced anxiously at each other and Clare said, after an awkward pause, ‘When are you planning on telling him?’

‘At the end of May, when his exams are over.’

There was a long silence which Kirsty broke with, ‘You poor thing, Janice. You must be worried sick.’

Janice forced a nervous laugh. ‘Let’s just say I’ve not been sleeping the best lately.’

Kirsty put a hand out and touched Janice lightly on the knee. ‘It’ll be alright. Worrying about something is usually a whole lot worse than actually doing it.’

Janice thought of her son’s nature and wished she could believe this as surely as Kirsty, with her wide, green eyes and earnest expression, clearly did. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them, and said, ‘Well, we’ll have to see,’ a signal to the others that she was finished talking about this topic. She was glad she had told them at last, but it didn’t make the prospect of telling Pete any more palatable.

A long silence followed, broken by Clare. ‘How are you and Martin coping?’ she said to Patsy, bringing the welcome change of subject Janice had hoped for.

Patsy looked tired. Janice could see the black circles under her eyes, through her heavy make-up. She was dressed drably, all in black, even though it was the end of April. It was only two weeks since Martin had told her that he’d lost his job. And Patsy was still reeling. She let out a weary sigh.

‘Well, you’ve just got to get on with it, haven’t you? Nothing else for it,’ she said stoically, though there was no warmth in her voice. She looked like a much older, severe version of the Patsy that Janice knew and loved.

‘It must’ve been such a shock to find out that he’d been unemployed for four weeks before he told you,’ said Clare.

‘Shock doesn’t come near to describing it,’ said Patsy grimly, and she pressed the thumbnail on her right hand into her left palm. ‘In fact the more I think about it, the more angry I get. It’s not Martin’s fault he lost his job but not to tell me…to go about pretending like that for a whole month.’ She paused, ground her teeth as if chewing, and went on, ‘I find it hard to forgive him that.’

‘Oh, Patsy,’ said Janice. ‘I’m sure he had good reasons for not telling you.’

Patsy sighed again, relenting a little. ‘He says he was trying to protect me and the girls. He thought he could land another job before having to tell us.’

‘I’m sure that’s the case,’ said Clare.

‘I’m sure it is too. But he still should’ve told me. He made me feel like a fool.’ said Patsy, shaking her head. ‘If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone on that shopping spree with the girls…or ordered that new fridge freezer. The old one was fine…’

‘Well, maybe something will come up soon,’ said Kirsty, hopefully.

‘I don’t know,’ said Patsy, shaking her head. ‘His CV’s been with a recruitment agency for six weeks and they haven’t come up with a single prospect for him. They say they’re inundated with applications like his.’

This was met with a despondent silence.

‘And it’s affecting the girls. Well, Laura anyway.’

‘Maybe she’s worried about the exams,’ offered Janice. ‘If it’s any comfort, Pete’s definitely out of sorts.’ If possible, he was being even more difficult and rude than normal.

‘I don’t know,’ said Patsy, doubtfully. ‘You know Laura’s always had to work for her grades, but she’s never been bothered by exams before. And they’re still two weeks away.’

‘Maybe it’s something else? Boyfriend trouble?’ suggested Janice.

Patsy shrugged. ‘She’s not seeing anyone, as far as I know, though she does like this one boy, Kyle…but I honestly don’t think it’s that either.’ She paused, rubbed her chin and added, ‘Mind you, she said she wasn’t feeling well when she came in at lunchtime.’

‘That’ll be it then,’ insisted Kirsty. ‘She’s just a bit under the weather.’

‘Has she been doing a lot of studying?’ asked Janice.

‘She’s been spending a lot of time in her room.’

Janice nodded. ‘It could be stress.’

‘I know how she feels,’ replied Patsy darkly and a ghost
of a smile crossed her face. ‘I feel like I’m revising for those bloody exams with her. I’ll be glad when they’re over!’

‘I heard Martin got some bad news,’ said a male voice behind them and they all looked up, startled, to find Danny, the barman, standing over Patsy.

Patsy gave Danny a very bright smile. ‘Ach, he’s not the only one,’ she said off-handedly, blinking rapidly. ‘I’m afraid banking isn’t the secure career it once was.’

‘Well, listen here,’ said Danny, reaching over Patsy and pressing his hand on her shoulder. ‘Here’s a wee something on the house to cheer youse all up.’ He placed a steel cooler, filled with ice and an unopened bottle of wine, on the table in front of Patsy.

‘I can’t accept that…’ began Patsy but Danny stilled her with a squeeze of his hand.

‘Sure you can. I’d be hurt if you didn’t. Now tell Martin I was asking after him.’ He gave Patsy a parting squeeze on the shoulder, and moved to the next table to clear away glasses.

‘What a sweetie,’ said Patsy, with the first real smile Janice had seen all day.

Patsy shared out the wine and Janice, making the most of the lighter mood, said, ‘Look, I think we all need something to look forward to. Why don’t we finalise that trip to London now? Let’s look at dates in September.’

‘Mmm,’ said Patsy and she touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. Her eyes were glassy with tears. ‘It’s just that…well, we were supposed to go to Botswana in September.’

Janice was annoyed with herself for her thoughtlessness. ‘Is there no way you can go now?’

‘No,’ said Patsy firmly. ‘The safari’s out of the question. Not until Martin gets another job – and God knows when that’ll be.’

‘I’m so sorry, love,’ said Janice. The safari had meant so much to Patsy. It broke Janice’s heart to see her friend disappointed. ‘I’ll give you the money,’ she blurted out suddenly, without hesitation.

Patsy, startled, took a few moments to reply and when she did her response was a considered one. ‘That’s sweet of you, Janice. It really is. And I’m touched. But you know I can’t accept.’

‘Look upon it as a loan,’ said Janice, trying to make her offer more acceptable. ‘You can repay me when Martin gets a job.’

Patsy smiled and reached over and gave Janice’s hand a firm squeeze. ‘It’s a lovely gesture. But no. Thanks. We really don’t want to be taking on debt, especially not for something like a holiday.’

‘But I know how much this one meant to you,’ said Janice quietly.

Patsy nodded, withdrew her hand and said bravely, ‘There’ll be other holidays.’

‘Listen, if you don’t feel up to going to London in September we can always postpone,’ suggested Clare.

‘No, don’t do that,’ said Patsy, ‘I’d like to go. With cheap flights and free accommodation, it’s not going to cost much. And if I put the money aside now, we’ll not notice it when September comes.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Janice, determined that she would make sure Patsy had a wonderful time in London. Of all of them, she needed it the most.

When they’d finished making their plans nearly an hour later, Clare said, ‘Janice, did I see Pete driving up Main Street in a new car yesterday? A black Volkswagen GTI?’

‘That was him alright,’ said Janice. ‘I told Keith it was far too much for his eighteenth.’

‘Lucky boy.’ Clare whistled through her teeth and Kirsty said, ‘Did he have a party?’

‘No. Funny enough, he said he didn’t want one. To be honest, we were relieved. I heard that the Dobbins’ house was trashed after Jason’s eighteenth party.’

‘Trashed?’ exclaimed Patsy.

‘Things were broken, including a Waterford crystal bowl, and there were beer stains on the carpets they couldn’t get out. I met Alison Dobbin in the hairdresser’s the other day and she told me all about it.’

‘Do they know who was responsible?’ said Patsy, sounding concerned. ‘I mean, she wasn’t implying Pete had anything to do with it, was she?’