Valentine (21 page)

'Thank you,' Lily replied graciously, 'but I am going to
retire with Frank. The journey has tired me more than I
anticipated.' She stood up and swayed slightly. Immediately
Frank got up and put his arm round her to steady her.

'I'll walk out with you,' Valentine said, getting up.

'Me too,' Jack said.

Lily seemed very frail as she walked through the bar,
leaning heavily on Frank for support.

'Here, let me take the other side,' Jack said, putting
his arm round Lily. 'Thank you, sweetheart,' she said
gratefully, adding, 'You were a revelation on stage.'

'I wasn't Lily, but thank you anyway,' Jack replied.

'You were and you need to get used to being gracious
about your talent.' She paused. 'And I know you might
not want to hear this and you'll think that I'm meddling,
but I'm old and I'm allowed to, so here goes: Jack,
perhaps you need to be a little more forgiving in other
areas of your life.' She looked meaningfully at
Valentine. Where Angels feared to tread Lily stormed
right in.

Jack caught the look. 'Lily, I know you mean well,
but I've always believed that infidelity is a deal-breaker.
You can't have a relationship without trust.' Valentine's
tiny flicker of hope was extinguished.

'Oh Jack, I wish you knew what I did about life,
then you'd realise that in the grand scheme of things
it is something that can be forgiven,' Lily said sadly.
She put her hand up to Jack's face. 'Lovely Jack, try
to forgive.'

Jack took her hand and kissed it. 'Lovely Lily, let's get
you that taxi.'

After they had seen Frank and Lily into a taxi, Jack
and Valentine stood outside the theatre. The ex and the
ex. Jack staring after the departing taxi as if it were a
thing of great fascination.

'Lily was right, you were fantastic,' Valentine said
quietly, willing him to look at her. If only he would do
that he would surely see how sorry she was.

But Jack wouldn't look at her. 'Thanks and congratulations
on your auditions.'

'There are no auditions. Lily was just putting a positive
spin on my lack of career.'

'Oh.' A beat, then a muttered, 'So how's it going with
him?'

'If you mean Finn, there is no me and him. I told you,
I made a mistake; I wish you would believe me, Jack,'
Valentine replied, twisting her diamante bracelet round
and round her wrist in anguish. 'I wish you could forgive
me.' He still wouldn't look at her.

'It's a big ask, don't you think?' he said finally. 'How
would you feel if you were me?'

Valentine hung her head. 'Devastated, just like I do.'

'You threw us away. I don't think I can ever forgive
you.'

Valentine did her best to blink back the hot tears. 'And
now you're seeing Tamara?'

'
Now
I am,' he said meaningfully. And he was about
to go on when Tamara appeared.

'There you are!' she said a little huffily, linking her arm
through Jack's. 'Olivia was wondering where you'd got
to. It's time to go.'

If there had been any excuse Valentine could have
thought of to get out of dinner, any at all, she would
have used it. As it was there was nothing she could say.
She ended up sitting opposite Jack and Tamara, the
latter continuing to mark her possession of Jack –
feeding him some of her risotto with her fork (Valentine
had a particular loathing for couples who did that),
running her hand down his back, smoothing back his
hair. She literally could not keep her hands off him.
I
don't know why she doesn't just fuck him in front of me and get
it over and done with,
she thought bitterly. Piers meanwhile
was talking to Jack about his current project,
another of his action blockbusters. Valentine endured
the starters and the main course making small talk with
Olivia.

'I see you've lost weight, Valentine,' Olivia commented
at one point. 'What diet have you been following?' The
I'm-broken-hearted-and-so-miserable-I can't-eat diet, was
the correct answer.

Valentine shrugged. 'I just haven't been very hungry.'

'Well it suits you,' Olivia said and she nodded
approvingly when she noticed that Valentine had barely
touched her food.

Jack continued to ignore her, not even looking at her.
By dessert she could bear the situation no longer. She
made a feeble excuse about having a migraine – Piers
wasn't to know that she didn't get them – and said her
goodbyes. Finally Jack looked at her as she got up to go,
but his brown eyes were completely unreadable.

Now she'd seen Jack again she couldn't even hold on to
that tiny flicker of hope that he might be able to forgive
her. There could be no more fantasies about getting back
with him. She looked back to the night she'd slept with
Finn and saw it for what it was – a moment of complete
madness. She felt at an all-time low, worse than she ever
used to when she was having the affair with Finn. Now
that seemed like a rehearsal for experiencing pain – this
was the real thing.

Finn was back in London – the audition hadn't gone
well; he hadn't got the part. He phoned her a few times
trying to persuade her to go out with him; each time she
said no. Finally he called round and insisted on taking
her out for dinner. She'd run out of excuses for saying
no. Finn's treat was oysters at an uber-trendy pub on
Westbourne Park Road, which was no treat at all for
Valentine, who hated oysters. Even the sight of people
eating them made her feel queasy. Finn was in a bad
mood after the rejection and spent most of the evening
ranting about how unfair it was that he hadn't got the
part. He barely asked her anything about herself. How
had she never noticed before how incredibly self-obsessed
he was?

'So did you miss me, V?'

She shrugged.

'Oh, you're not still hung up on Jack, are you?' He
paused. 'You do know he was shagging Tamara before
you broke up?'

'How do you know?' Finn's answer suddenly became
very important.

'She told me. So I don't know why he acted all moral-high-ground
with you.'

'When?' Valentine couldn't let this go.

'I don't know the exact time and date but I just know
that it was before you broke up, after someone's party I
think.'

Valentine felt sick. She remembered Jack going to a
birthday party of one of the members of the cast. He
had promised to call her afterwards but never had. She'd
thought nothing of it at the time. Nor did she stop to
think now that Finn might possibly be lying.

'So are we done talking about him? Those two deserve
each other anyway – the high-maintenance princess and
the hypocrite.'

'Funny, that's exactly what he said about us – deserving
each other.'

'Well we do, don't we?' Finn said, oblivious to the
bitterness in Valentine's voice.

He slurped down another oyster. Valentine took a large
sip of wine and looked away. Finn had clearly decided
the subject of Jack was now closed. 'So when am I going
to meet Piers?'

Valentine shrugged. 'I'm not sure. It's very early days
with us getting to know each other. Probably in a couple
of months.'

'A couple of months!' Finn said in outrage. 'I was
thinking more like next week! He's your father, V, and
I'm your boyfriend!' Was he? That was news to Valentine.
'I should be introduced to him.'

Valentine didn't point out that he had never been
bothered about meeting Chris. 'He's got a really full
schedule,' Valentine replied. 'I'm not even sure when
I'm seeing him.'

'Well, perhaps I could come along next time you see
him,' Finn persisted.

'Finn, those meetings are about us trying to establish
a bond – you know, father/daughter – trying to get to
know each other.' God, he really was insensitive.

'Well, I can help with that' Finn blustered. 'It would
probably make it less intense to have me there.'

'And this keenness to meet Piers has nothing to do with
you hoping he might offer you some movie role?' She was
feeling seriously pissed off with Finn now.

He laughed, but it was hopelessly unconvincing. 'Of course
not V, my only concern is you.' He had juice on his chin
from the oysters, which Valentine found infuriating.

She pointed at his mouth. 'You've got something there.'

Finn absently wiped his mouth with his hand, then
leaned towards her. 'Shall we go? You know what a turn
on I find oysters.'

Valentine thought about saying no, she had no particular
desire to go to bed with Finn, but then she thought
of Jack lying to her about Tamara. She stood up. 'What
are you waiting for?'

'Oh God V, I'm close, yes, yes,' Finn was thrusting
energetically into her and in the past she would have
been right there with him. It wasn't as if he'd done
anything different, in fact he'd actually gone out of his
way to please her before himself (a first for Finn). But
as he lay with his head between her legs she kept having
flashbacks to him sucking at the oysters, which really
wasn't going to hit the spot, so she put an end to that
activity. And now she felt as if she was having an out-of-body
experience, completely unmoved by his exertions.
In fact, all she could think about was that she wished
he'd bloody hurry up and get it over with. This had
never happened before. She had always loved sex with
Finn.

'Do that thing, babe,' he panted.

Fuck!
Because she was feeling so angry with him she
really didn't feel like doing that thing, not one little bit.
Then again, if she did that thing it might speed it up.
She slid her hands over his buttocks and, well, there was
no other way of dressing this up – put her finger up his
arse. Finn quivered at her touch and the thrusts got more
intense, the groans deeper.

'Oh God, I'm coming . . .' One final pant and then he
collapsed on top of her.

Halle-fucking-lujah, it was over.

'That was so good, V! You see, we do belong together.'

Valentine couldn't bring herself to answer. All she could
think about was Jack shouting that she and Finn deserved
each other.

It was a relief when he left the following morning.
Ironically during the night he had been the one who had
put his arm round her as they slept. All those times she
had longed to be held by him and now she felt suffocated
by his embrace. She managed to get out of seeing him
that night, instead watching
Breakfast at Tiffany's
with Lily.
Frank was out with his some of his musician friends, something
that Valentine knew made Lily tense. Frank had
been dry for five years, but it hadn't been easy and the
people he was seeing tonight were all hard drinkers. The
film was to distract Lily from worrying, but Valentine had
forgotten how emotional the ending was – what with Holly
Golightly abandoning her cat, which made Valentine cry
and she didn't even like cats, then leaving Paul Varjak,
the writer she was in love with, then the scene of them
being reconciled in the pouring rain in Manhattan. But
as Valentine cried, Lily remained resolutely dry-eyed. As
the credits rolled to the haunting strains of 'Moon River'
(the tune that had already made Valentine cry earlier on
in the film) she turned to Lily and exclaimed, 'I can't
believe you didn't cry.'

'Real life is so much more upsetting,' Lily replied.
'And anyway I prefer the book, which doesn't have a
happy ending. So much more realistic.'

This wasn't like Lily; she was usually a hopeless
romantic. Valentine hadn't wanted to upset Lily by telling
her about Finn's revelation about Jack. But as she appeared
to be in a cynical frame of mind, Valentine thought she
may as well.

'Jack was seeing Tamara before we broke up.'

Lily frowned. 'I don't believe it. Why do you say that?'

'Finn told me.'

'And he would have no vested interest in you thinking
badly of Jack?' She sighed and said more gently, 'The
last thing Finn would want is for you to be obsessing over
Jack. V, sometimes you're very naïve.'

'Oh.' Suddenly Valentine wanted to end the conversation.
It was too painful. She offered to make some tea.

Lily smiled and shook her head. 'Actually I think I'll
have a small brandy while I wait for Frank. But you go
to bed; you look exhausted.'

Valentine stifled a yawn. 'I'll stay up if you want me
to.' The nights spent obsessing about Jack had taken their
toll.

'No, no, I'll be fine. Frank said he would be back around
midnight.'

Upstairs Valentine looked yet again at the production
website of
King Lear
, which carried several photos of Jack.
Googling Jack had become her new guilty and torturous
pleasure – more pain than pleasure it had to be said. She
read his reviews, which were just glowing. Jack was clearly
destined to go far. But not even the less-than-glowing
reviews of Tamara could cheer her up. She was on the
rack.

She was just about to go to bed when she heard Frank
banging on Lily's door and shouting. He sounded drunk.
Oh God, poor Lily. Valentine padded downstairs, but as
she opened the front door and looked down to the second-floor
landing she froze, transfixed by the scene in front
of her. A very drunk Frank was slumped against the wall
with Lily beside him. Tears were coursing down his face.
'Don't leave me, Lily,' he kept saying over and over again.
'Please don't. I can't go on without you. We waited all
this time to be together; don't leave me now.' Valentine
didn't know whether to go to the couple or stay out of
it. Was Frank saying these things because he felt guilty
for getting drunk, or for some other reason? Lily didn't
seem angry, more resigned. She caught sight of Valentine
and mouthed, 'It's OK.' It didn't seem OK, but Valentine
quietly shut the door and tiptoed upstairs, wondering
what had triggered Frank's drinking. Then she reached
for her phone and read through all the messages Jack
had ever sent her. Was Lily right? Were happy endings
unrealistic?