Deranged Marriage (7 page)

Chapter Six

I spent Christmas Day with Joe, and that made me feel grown-up. We woke up, had breakfast and champagne in bed where we exchanged our presents. We’d purchased a Christmas tree and put up a few tasteful decorations. We cooked turkey together, we drank a lot, we made love a lot. By the time we were ready to watch Christmas TV, Joe was drunk and singing Christmas carols and I was blissfully happy.

Then, on Boxing Day I borrowed Lisa’s car, and drove to see my parents and sister for a few days, while Joe went to visit his parents. I didn’t want us to be apart but it was the first Christmas where I hadn’t seen my family and I think it was the same for him so we went our separate ways.

Then the morning after Boxing Day, I got the call that was to change everything.

George’s mother rang. George had called in the middle of the night saying he was getting the first available flight back to England. She didn’t know why and was worried about him. When she asked me, I panicked, thinking it might have been to do with his recent visit, although I told her I had no idea. It couldn’t have been because of me. Could it?

When I put the phone down, I turned to my sister, Imogen, who was at my parents’ house with her husband Jack.

I haven’t spoken much about Imogen, mainly because I don’t really see her that much now. I adore her and she adores me, but in a sisterly sort of way. She’s four years older than me, but she got married when she was twenty-one. At first my parents thought she was making a terrible decision, her intended was a man she had been at university with and he came across as a bit of a hippy. Immi had no intention of a career (she had always maintained that), so my parents fretted about how they would survive. But they were so in love that we all accepted it, and they proved their devotion when Immi took a job in an office to support Jack while he wrote his first children’s book. The book was an instant success and he quickly became one of the most successful children’s authors in the country. Now he’s loaded, so Immi gave up her job. They live in Devon, near my parents and near where I grew up, which is why, in London, I see her rarely unless she comes up with Jack when he visits his publishers, and we have lunch. However, our meetings are always brief.

‘Can we go for a walk?’ I asked her.

‘You, walk?’ She raised an astonished eyebrow. ‘OK, we’ll take Bertie.’ Bertie was Jack’s highland terrier. We put him on the lead and headed out.

‘George’s mother called me,’ I said. ‘Seems he is getting a flight home and she asked me if I knew why.’

‘Do you?’ My sister is quite astute and I thought it would be pointless not to tell her the truth.

‘He kissed me.’ I told her what had happened. Then I told her about Julia.

‘There’s nothing in that story that would link his homecoming to you. I don’t mean to be rude, Holly, but he told you that you didn’t set him on fire.’

‘I know, but there’s this nagging thing. I mean if he asked her to marry him, why would he be coming back home so soon. I just hope he didn’t change his mind. I’m not being vain, I don’t think it’s to do with me, I’m just worried in case it might disrupt things.’

‘Joe?’

‘Yes, everything’s going so well, I really love him. I can’t think why George would come home, other than he’s changed his mind.’

‘I can. What if this woman turned him down.’

I looked at Imogen, and as much as I hoped that Julia hadn’t, it was almost a relief to think that that could be the case. I hated myself for thinking such an awful, selfish thought, but when George went back to New York, I was banking on the fact he would be staying there. For the first time ever, I didn’t want him around.

I stayed in Devon for two more days. The day before I was due to drive back to London he called me. He said he was at his parents’ house and asked if we could meet up. Actually he didn’t, he demanded we meet up. I arranged to meet him at the park we used to hang out in as children.

The park had changed. The swings were new and brightly painted. The climbing apparatus more complex. The gardens were neat and full of flower beds. It looked nothing like the way it did when we were younger. This was almost a comfort to me. I sat on a bench and, although it was freezing, I was feeling quite flushed. It was less than a month since I had seen George, and here we were again. I saw him pull up in what I presumed was a hire car. It was a small Ford and it seemed too small for him. Until I watched him get out that is. He seemed to have shrunk; diminished. With a heavy heart I watched him approach.

‘What’s happened?’ I asked as he sat down beside me. He had refused to tell me over the phone.

‘She said no, Holly. I couldn’t believe it. We’ve been together for three years, practically living together and she turned me down, said she wasn’t ready. We’re both thirty. Thirty for God’s sake. You should be getting married at that age; I should be getting married, to Julia.’ He broke down sobbing.

I saw a glimpse of the old George. The George that I had adored. The one who was kind, sensitive and caring. He was crushed.

‘So she didn’t want to get married, but why did you split up?’

‘It was her idea to break up. She said that if we both wanted such different things then maybe we should take a break from each other.’

‘A break maybe, but a total split?’

‘Obviously she doesn’t love me enough.’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘Holly, it’s obvious. Women want to get married, most women do. So the reason she turned me down is because she doesn’t love me enough.’ Just as I was about to protest he started crying again.

The first time I saw George cry was when Samantha left. I had cried too and he made me promise not to tell anyone. Our friendship was sealed on that promise. I don’t think I ever saw him cry after that. Until now.

Not knowing what to do with a blubbing grown man, I folded my arms, well I was frozen. My mobile beeped at me to announce a text message; it was from Joe. I was about to read it when George moved towards me, his arms extended for a comforting hug.

‘I missed you,’ he said.

‘I missed you too.’ It was true I had, at one time. I didn’t feel that in his current state he needed me to bring up the last time we met.

‘I’ve never had a friendship as good as ours.’

‘Me either.’ I wanted to ask him why he had been so willing to sacrifice it, but that wasn’t the appropriate moment.

‘Friends forever?’ he asked, looking at me the way he used to when he was a teenager.

‘Of course,’ I replied. Well, what else could I say? I looked at him. His manic eyes seemed to have taken on a life of their own. One minute they were full of tears, the next they were staring at me, the next they seemed to be crossed. I experienced a huge jolt of genuine concern, although I couldn’t pinpoint if it was for him or for me. Although why I should need concern when George had been dumped, I had no idea. I just felt I should.

‘I thought she loved me,’ George exclaimed, interrupting my thoughts. This time his eyes were boring into mine and he was incensed. I felt scared. ‘I was so sure she loved me. I loved her, she loved me. That’s the way it works isn’t it Holly?’ His eyes continued staring into mine and I wanted to cower, but I didn’t. Although this was a George I had never, ever seen before, I stayed put. ‘I did nothing to deserve this,’ he continued. His voice was rising, getting harsher, meaner. Then into a softer cadence, but not for long. ‘Everything...I did everything for her. And now the bitch has taken everything away from me. My job, my life; she took it all and she burned it and handed me back the ashes. I was wrong Holly, I must have been wrong.’

‘About what?’

‘About love of course. The only explanation for all this, the only thing that will ever make any sense is the fact that I got it all wrong. I got love wrong. I did it, not her. Me. Yes that’s it, I am the one who got it wrong.’ I had no idea what he was talking about, but he was scaring me now. ‘There was this fug in my brain. Thick fug and now I think it might be going. Yes, something is clearing the way so I can think again.’ He looked at me with those manic, stranger’s eyes. His mad rant had tapered off. He appeared to be deep in thought, although the edge of madness that had crept into him was still lingering.

‘I’m going back to London today,’ I said, for want of changing the subject. I knew it was totally inadequate, but this conversation had to be re-routed.

‘I’ll probably be moving up later in the week.’ He was regaining control.

‘Really? You’re transferring your job?’

‘No, I’m going to take a sabbatical. I’ve got to clear it formally but I put the request in and signs are it will be approved. Then I’m going to rent a flat in London, and sort out my life.’ He laughed, unconvincingly.

‘I guess I’ll see you when you’re in London then.’

‘You bet you will.’

*

As I drove back to my flat and my life in London, I couldn’t shed the unsettled feeling that had taken root within me. I tried to concentrate on the fact that I would soon be seeing Joe. I felt sorry for George, I really did, but I was also looking forward to my own future. A future that up until now I never thought would include him.

Friendships changed, that was a fact of life. I can’t say how I would define my friendship with George had he not left me for New York. I don’t know if we would have been as close as we were, or if we’d have grown apart. But from the age of twelve, he was the single most important person in my life, that much I do know, and there was no way I was turning my back on him. The question of whether I still liked him was one which I couldn’t answer. Our first meeting after five years was too weird for me to talk about; our second consisted of him scaring me and crying a lot. I wasn’t certain that I knew George any more.

Chapter Seven

It was was the first day of the new year and I was going to meet Joe’s parents for the first time. We were a bit hungover, having been out with Lisa and Max the night before but we’d promised that we’d go to lunch, so we dragged ourselves out of bed, and cursing our stupidity, got ready to leave. Joe was far more nervous than I was, apart from feeling ill I was looking forward to meeting his parents. After all I was meeting the people who brought up the man I loved. I already adored them.

George’s parents had taught me from an early age that grown-ups are not all scary, alien beings. They’re just people. I quite liked talking to people’s parents, I found them interesting, I have never understood anyone being intimidated by grown-ups, I think
they
are far more afraid of us.

‘They don’t live in a big house,’ Joe said.

‘Sweetheart, for someone who is supposed to love me you don’t think much of me if you think that matters.’ I tried not to be angry, but Joe’s impression of me being posh was a little unfair to say the least and the implication that I was a snob (although of course I was a bit), annoyed me.

‘It’s not that. I know you’re not going to judge them, but I just want you to know what to expect.’

‘I don’t care if they live in a hovel, I still love them because they gave me you.’ We kissed.

I love to kiss, but especially I love kissing Joe. He has the best lips I’ve ever been near. I sometimes think our relationship is teenage, in the way we seem to ‘kiss each other’s faces off’. (I heard that expression on television once, I have no idea if it was appropriate but it was said by a teenager.) My mobile rang and interrupted the delicious kiss. I shrugged and answered it without recognising the number.

‘Holly, it’s George.’ I hadn’t heard from him since the day in the park. I had thought about calling his parents to check that he was all right, but something held me back.

‘Are you OK?’ I asked, as Joe helped me into my coat.

‘I’m better,’ he said.

‘That’s wonderful.’ Something about the tone in his voice set me on edge. It didn’t sound right.

‘I need to see you.’

‘Sure, when?’

‘Now.’

‘Impossible, I’m off to Joe’s parents’ for lunch.’ I mouthed the word ‘George’ at Joe. I had told Joe about George’s rejection, and he already knew about our friendship.

‘After lunch then,’ George said.

‘Look, to be honest George I’m going to be back late tonight, we’re spending the afternoon there.’ I didn’t want him to spoil my day with Joe.

‘It’s in your interest,’ he said. That took me aback. I know that things hadn’t been quite right between us since the kiss, but he was sounding like a second-hand car dealer.

‘I really can’t.’

‘OK, well tomorrow after work. I’ll pick you up from your office at six.’ Again, I was stunned. He sounded upbeat and assertive. The last time I’d seen him he was convinced his life was over, now he seemed ready to re-start. I just wasn’t sure where I came in. Joe stood by the door, looking gorgeous and impatient.

‘OK, I’ll see you there.’ I gave him my office address, hung up and forgot about him.

*

The village that Joe grew up in was incredibly pretty. It didn’t tally with him. Joe who drove a black Porsche and always wore black or grey grew up in a flowery haven. It seemed incongruous.

His parents greeted me as if they’d known me for years. I got the impression that his mum was quite relieved that Joe seemed to be ‘settling down’. He was only thirty-one but she made a few references to his age as if he was older and a confirmed bachelor. Luckily, she didn’t mention grandchildren. I didn’t get to meet his sister, whom I had heard lots about, but had apparently disappeared to her boyfriend’s for New Year’s Eve and hadn’t come back. She was only twenty and her brother and his new girlfriend weren’t of much interest to her. Or not as much interest as the new man in her life. His mother told me all about Hannah, so I felt as if I’d met her. She didn’t have Joe’s ambition or talent, her mum said, which seemed a bit harsh, and she hadn’t shown any interest in leaving home as Joe had done. I think Joe was her shining star, and every time she raved about an achievement of his (from his first swimming badge to his degree), she sparkled, and Joe got more and more embarrassed. I think he was more upset about his ‘cool’ image being thrown out by his doting mother than anything, which was highly amusing.