Crappily Ever After (10 page)

‘Oh! Wait, Lucy,’ says Tony. ‘Can I give you Matt’s number in case he doesn’t give it to Emily? It’s too much of a coincidence to let go. Besides,’ he laughs, ‘I don’t want to be the only one with a ball and chain.’

Tony scribbles Matt’s number on my arm with the kebab shop man’s biro and we say our goodbyes and head home. Emily never contacts Matt again, despite me giving her his number. It was a one-night stand, and he was a rubbish kisser apparently. There must be a different Emily out there for him. I hope so. As a fatalist, I like to believe in these things. Amy looks nervously behind her all the way home waiting, I’m assuming, for another James-type hallucination. I choose to ignore it.    

The next night, James comes around. He talks about what they all got up to in Brighton and how he could have pulled at least two girls. I listen with a smile and well placed nod. Tired of hearing his tales of delusion, I tell him I’m going to put in a pizza for tea. As I pad into the kitchen, Amy is making pasta for her and the girls. She gives me an uneasily sidelong glance.

‘Want some?’ she asks.

‘No, I’m good thanks, we’re having pizza.’

‘How was James’s weekend in Brighton?’ she enquires.

‘Sounds like it was fun – he could’ve pulled twice over.’ Amy nods non-committally and stirs her pasta. I walk back to the bedroom to see James hastily putting my phone down on the bed.

‘What are you doing?’ I question.

‘Oh, it rang, I was going to answer but…’ I check my phone. No missed calls.

‘So… You meet anyone at the weekend?’ James asks conversationally, shuffling into an interested, sitting position.

‘Like, who?’ I ask, distracted by scrolling through my call register. ‘Oh, any random club-type men who gave you their number,’ he says.

‘No. Though Em met a guy who seemed really keen. Hasn’t called him, though.’   

Nothing more is said. I fetch the pizza and we eat in silence through the movie. I feign tiredness. ‘I’m really knackered,’ I say. ‘I think I’ll turn in.’

‘Fine,’ says James, using the side of my bed to push off his trainers, leaving a muddy smudge on my white duvet cover and his big toe poking out from a hole in a greying sock. He assumes that he is staying; annoyance suddenly flares up in me. I have a sudden urge to push him and his holey sock off my bed.

‘Sorry, but I’d like a full double bed just for me tonight.’ I attempt to hide my mixture of anger and disgust. James raises his eyebrows and stands up.

‘Fine, I have a few calls to make,’ he says ominously, ‘so I’ll be off.’ He shoves on his trainers without undoing the laces and pulls on his battered denim jacket. The front door slams loudly. Relief washes over me. I get up and walk into the living room. The girls are watching the third series of
Friends
for the zillionth time and laughing uproariously.

‘Strange night,’ I say, breaking the mood.

‘How so?’ says Emily, her eyes still on the screen.

‘Well, just James really. Being weird.’

‘Hmm,’ replies Emily, then goes back to laughing at Rachel and Ross’s latest argument. Only Amy glances over at me, giving me a warm smile that tells me that she cares. I shrug and smile back. Another boyfriend on the way out, probably. We’re beyond surprising these days.

Next morning, I have a call at 8am from my mum. Poopsy threw up on the bed an hour ago, forcing Mum to get up and attend to it. She’s awake early and assumes everyone else is too. My mum would normally sleep ‘til 11am. I think having me so young made her miss too much of her teenage years, and she is now making up for it. She sleeps late, parties with her family and friends and has a much more familiar chart knowledge these days than I do.

‘Hi babe, still up for next weekend?’ she asks.

‘Of course, I can’t wait,’ I say. It’s my mum’s youngest brother’s 40th birthday. Guaranteed piss-up from start to finish.

‘Grand. We’ve done a poster, it’s the most horrific yet,’ she states proudly. The ‘poster’ basically involves any horrendous photos from the past of the person in question, accompanied by text as horrid as possible.

My last, on my 30th was a faded black and white photograph of the fattest baby ever born and carried the thoughtful caption, ‘I ate my twin.’

The poster is never pretty. It’s never complimentary, but always hugely funny at the expense of the recipient.

The week passes quickly and, before I know it, I am boarding the train at King’s Cross. James smugly informs me that he won’t notice I’m gone, he has such a ‘mental’ weekend lined up. Great, I think with relief. I can let my hair down and be myself.

I arrive at Arbroath station and take a cab up to the ‘Cliffy’ – our local hotel and party venue. It’s seen many an occasion from us; parties, weddings and, sadly, funerals. I can’t wait to see everyone. It feels so long since I saw them all. I walk to the door of the function room and observe for a moment what my family does when I can’t see them. I gaze through a gap in the frosted glass doors, picking out the familiar shapes of my loved ones. They laugh and they hug. Life goes on without me. I ponder for a moment on how much of their lives remain unseen to me. Yet it happens. Like my life does too, and they don’t see. Some things we will never experience about each other. I have a pang of wishing I could do this every day. Not to miss a moment. Funny statements made by my auntie, my mum’s smile, my niece’s silly dancing surrounded by clapping relatives. It all occurs, funny at the time, but not funny enough for them to remember and tell me later. A million moments we miss in each other’s lives. I walk in and break the spell.

‘Auntie Lucy,’ Josh gasps, as he sees me first. He runs over and I pick him up, wrapping myself in his baby hug. Suddenly, I am surrounded by warmth. Hugs, kisses so fast on my cheek that I can’t see the person who delivered it. My hand being squeezed by another unseen loved one. Then my mum’s smiling face.

‘Hiya, my girl, I have
so
missed you,’ she says, enveloping me in Chanel and baby powder. I feel safe and warm, surrounded by my family, all chatting ten to the dozen, telling me of new boyfriends, exam passes and, in the case of Jessie, the littlest girl of the family, a brand new tutu for ballet class. I try my hardest to answer everyone and keep up. Mary pulls away from hugging me and gives me an excited smile.

‘Oh my God,’ she says, ‘we have a total surprise for you.’

 My family step aside to reveal… James.

‘I just couldn’t miss this,’ he smirks. ‘Hope you don’t mind, Luce.’

                                   
       
Chapter Seven          

‘Oh my God! This
is
a surprise,’ I exclaim. ‘I didn’t even know you had any way of getting in touch with my family.’

‘Password, Lucy. Every phone needs one,’ James whispers patronisingly, then laughs loudly. So that everyone around us thinks we are sharing a private joke, and laugh along. ‘I see.’

My tone makes several of the female family members straighten up like meerkats sensing danger.

‘Bar?’ suggests my cousin, Jo.

‘Back in a moment.’ I aim a sickly sweet smile at James.

Mary, Jo, Claire and I head towards the bar. We buy four vodka and Diet Cokes and I’m quickly pulled into the ladies. Mary sparks up two cigarettes and passes one to me. ‘I don’t smoke any more.’ I stub it out quickly and hand it back to her, before I’m tempted to take a puff.

‘So, what’s the story?’ Jo asks.

‘I don’t know,’ I explain. ‘I’m just not comfortable with this. He’s obviously been looking through my phone and one of my friends seems to think he’s following me.’

A knowing nod passes around all three.

‘He does seem a bit like he’s trying too hard. OK, we have to make out we suspect
nothing,’
conspires Claire. ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Let’s befriend him. It’s the only way.’ A dramatic hush ensues.

 ‘Let’s go,’ orders Mary.

We walk over to the crowd around James, who is clearly loving an audience.

‘So, by then she’s looking through my video collection and she shouts through, “what’s Head Cleaner about?”’

Everyone laughs along at the latest ‘blonde moment’ of mine that James is describing.

‘You’ve done well this time, Luce,’ says my Uncle Jim, with a nod to James.

I watch as a worried glance pass around the girls in the know. The evening continues and, much to my disappointment, I’m not enjoying it. James follows me around incessantly. When I spot someone I haven’t seen for ages on the other side of the room, he’s there. ’Just want to meet all the family.’ And when I go to the bar: ‘I’ll just help you carry the tray of drinks.’

‘He’s very attentive,’ says Mum. ‘Seems really keen.’

‘Too keen,’ I mutter.

The final straw is when I find him waiting for me outside the bathroom. The girls and I have met for an update. They too can see how irritating he can be, and have given up the befriending mission.

‘For goodness sake, can I not even have a pee without you hovering around?’ I snap.

He looks hurt.

 ‘Sorry, Lucy. It’s just that you keep going to the one place I can’t come with you. I miss you,’ he whines.

 James begins sinking his pints faster, now that we’ve had words. He takes my aunties up to all the Scottish reels, looking over at me for approval at how much part of the family he is. He pulls my small niece, Jessica, onto his lap. She squirms to get away, a look of disgust on her face. Sensible girl, I think – another one immune to his charms. James sits and looks sullenly into the bottom of his pint glass. Several family members ask if he’s all right. He smiles wanly at them and nods. The music starts for
Strip the Willow
, my favourite Scottish reel and very important to get right. Many a person attempting it for the first time has been shouted down. Scots take their reels very seriously indeed. My cousin, Craig, and I look over at each other and immediately make our way to the dance floor. We stand in line ready to go. James appears behind Craig.

‘Would you mind if I dance with my girlfriend, please?’ he simpers, holding his hand out toward me. Craig shrugs and looks at me.

‘Sorry James,’ I say dismissively. ‘Craig and I always do this one.’

Mary is swiftly by James’s side.

 ‘This one’s mine, I think,’ she announces, giving me a wink. As the first couple start to spin each other around, James looks at me as if he’s a puppy I’ve just kicked, and continues to do so for the rest of the dance. Afterwards, he comes over to speak to me. ‘Bugger off!’ I say angrily, and storm back to my only sanctuary – the ladies loo – with an unlit cigarette and lighter in my hand that I had grabbed from the table on my way past. Mary bursts in.

 ‘Come quickly!’ She grabs my arm, disposing of my cigarette down the toilet. ‘And don’t you dare smoke because of him.’

‘Ladies and gentleman, we have a young man here who wants to make an announcement,’ yells the bandleader over the mic in the manner of a game show host. ‘Oh sweet Jesus, no,’ I hear Claire mutter.

‘Hi everyone. I’m James. Some of you know me already.’ He clears his throat awkwardly, and looks around the hushed room with an adoring smile.

‘I would just like to say how happy I am to be here and how welcome you’ve all made me.’ He chokes emotionally over the last few words.

‘What an arse!’ booms a male voice behind me.

‘I’d also like to say that, although Lucy and I have only been together a few months, she is undoubtedly the most wonderful thing that has happened in my life.’

‘No way, man,’ snorts Craig behind me.

‘So, it’s on this note,’ continues James, ‘that it gives me great pleasure to ask Lucy to be my wife.’ James gets down on one knee to a now horrified throng. ‘Lucy, will you marry me?’ James gives me a watery smile.

‘No!’ I shake my head violently. ‘James, come down please, so we can talk about this.’ Several people laugh uproariously.

‘Lucy, please,’ implores James.

‘It’s been two months James – I can’t marry you! Don’t do this.’

‘And, you’re a knob,’ mutters Jo, just loud enough for me to hear. I walk over to the stage.