Marian Keyes - Lucy Sullivan Is Getting Married (35 page)

Charlotte was rather taken aback by all of this. She was inexperienced enough in the arena of love to assume that because he had slept with her, it meant that their romance was back on track.

"But...but," she said. "What about last night? Didn't it...?"

"No, Charlotte," interrupted Simon impatiently. "It didn't mean a thing to me. Sex is sex. Now please get dressed and leave."

"And the worst thing is, Lucy," she complained afterward. "I still don't know why he ended it with me."

"But why not?" I asked.

"I forgot to ask."

"What were you doing all that time?" I asked in surprise. "No, no, don't tell me, I can guess."

"I'm too young to be a Spinster of this Parish," said Charlotte gloomily.

"You're never too young," I said wisely.

55 Megan was due to start her new job that week, but there were complications. Well, only one actually.

To wit: Frank Erskine's mental health.

The MD wasn't too pleased with the behavior of one of his Directors.

Frank's offer to create a new job for an attractive, tanned young woman, who wore shorts, was regarded as the embarrassing act of a middle-aged man who should

have known better. The company buzzed with the rumor that he was having a combination of midlife crisis and a nervous breakdown and wasn't capable of rational thought.

He was persuaded--quite forcibly, according to my sources in Person- nel--to take an extended period of sick leave. Luckily his wife agreed to stand by him, and the press was kept out of it.

When he returned--although no one really thought he would--then Management would be only too happy to talk to Megan about her promo- tion.

But until then, Megan was condemned to fester in Credit Control. Meredia nearly vomited with glee.

56 Three hearts were heavy.

It was as if we had all been struck down by the plague. The apartment should have been draped in black cr�pe. All about us was an air of terrible gloom, sickness and death.

Whenever I came home I expected to hear the sounds of a funeral dirge being played on an organ, coming from the attic.

"There is a blight upon this house," I said, and the other two miserably agreed.

Then Charlotte asked what a blight was.

Even though it was still high summer, once you crossed the threshold into our apartment, it was loveless, bleak winter.

One Sunday lunchtime Karen and Charlotte went to the lucy sullivan is getting married / 421

pub to get drunk and hiss venomously at each other about how small Si- mon's and Daniel's penises had been really. And how the sex had been terrible and that they had never actually had any orgasms, but had faked every single one of them.

I would have loved to go with them but I had placed myself under vol- untary house arrest.

I was slightly worried about how much I had been drinking, both during and especially post Gus, so I was seeking to escape by another route.

I was reading a great book about women who love too much. I was amazed that our paths had never crossed until now, but it had been pub- lished a good ten years earlier when I was a mere novice at being neurotic, only barely getting the hang of things.

The phone rang.

"Daniel," I said--for it was he. "And what do you want, you philandering fucker?"

"Lucy," he said in a low, urgent tone. "Is she there?"

"Is who here?" I asked coldly.

"Karen?"

"No, she's not, I'll tell her you called. Although don't hold your breath if you're expecting her to call back."

"No, Lucy." He sounded frightened. "Don't tell her I called. I want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," I said.

"Please, Lucy!"

"No, get lost," I sputtered. "I've got my loyalties, you know. You can't just mess my friend around, break her heart, and still expect me to be your bosom buddy."

I expected him to say something about my bosoms, but he didn't.

"But, Lucy, you were my friend first," he said.

"Tough," I said simply. "You know the rules--boy 422 / marian keyes

meets girl, boy breaks up with girl, boy has contract on life put out by girl's roommates."

"Lucy," said Daniel, sounding very serious. "I've got something to say to you."

"Say it then, but be quick about it."

"Well, I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but...well...I miss you, Lucy."

I felt a stab of sadness. But that was nothing unusual.

"You didn't call me all summer," I reminded him.

"You didn't call me either."

"Well, how could I? You were going out with someone and she would have killed me."

"You were going out with someone also," Daniel pointed out.

"Hah! Gus was hardly a threat, was he?"

"I wouldn't have said that."

"I know what you mean," I said, going all dewy-eyed at the memory of Gus. "Even though he's not very tall, I bet he can stand his own in hand- to-hand combat."

"I didn't mean that," said Daniel. "He doesn't need to hit anyone. He could have paralyzed me with five minutes of his boring conversation."

I was outraged. The idea of Daniel calling Gus boring. It was too ludicrous to even bother arguing about.

"Sorry," said Daniel. "I shouldn't have said that. He's a great laugh, really."

"Do you mean it?"

"No. But I'm afraid that you'll slam the phone down and refuse to see me."

"You're quite right to be afraid," I said. "Because I've no intention of seeing you."

"Please, Lucy?" he asked.

"What for? You're so pathetic--you're momentarily lucy sullivan is getting married / 423

without a woman and your ego can't handle it, so you call up good old Lucy and..."

"Jesus," he complained, "if I needed an ego boost, you'd be the last person I'd go to."

"Then why do you want to see me?"

"Because I miss you."

I'd momentarily run out of insults for him, and Daniel saw his opening.

"I'm not bored," he said earnestly, "I'm not lonely, I don't just want fe- male company, I don't need an ego boost. I want to see you. No one else but you."

There was a pause. The air reverberated with his sincerity and for a moment I nearly believed him.

"Listen to you," I said with a little laugh. "You think you can charm every girl who crosses your path, don't you?"

But despite my bluster, there was a small flicker of something else. Relief, maybe? Although I couldn't give in just yet, it would disappoint him.

"You know that your usual smooth, slick lines don't work on me," I re- minded Daniel.

"I know," he agreed, "And I know that if you do meet me, you'll be horrible."

"Oh yes?"

"You're going to call me a flirt and a.. a..."

"A slimebucket?" I supplied helpfully.

"Yes, a slimebucket. And a womanizer?"

"Of course--you can't even imagine what I have in store for you."

"That's okay."

"You're a sick man, Daniel Watson."

"But you'll meet me?"

"But...but, I like it here."

"What are you doing?" 424 / marian keyes

"Lying down..."

"You can lie down here."

"Eating chocolate..."

"I'll buy you as much chocolate as you want."

"But I'm reading a great book and you'll want me to talk to you..."

"I won't. I promise."

"And I've no makeup on and I look horrible."

"So what?"

And when I asked, "How will I get over to your apartment?", my capit- ulation was complete.

"I'll drive over and get you," offered Daniel.

At that I threw back my head and laughed mirthlessly.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Daniel," I said. "Be realistic. How do you think Karen's going to feel if she sees your car outside our apartment?"

"Oh yes, of course," muttered Daniel, sounding ashamed. "How could I have been so insensitive?"

"Don't be stupid," I scoffed. "We all know that you're insensitive--after all, you're a man, aren't you? No, I mean if she finds out that you've come to see me and not her she'll kill you. And me," I added, suddenly touched by the cold hand of fear.

"Well, we'll have to think of something else then," said Daniel.

I waited for him to acknowledge that we couldn't see each other.

"I know!" he said eagerly. "I'll pick you up down by the traffic lights. She'll never see me there."

"Daniel!" I shouted, outraged. "How could you...? Oh all right then."

As I got ready, I was aware of a feeling of subterfuge that I found both frightening and exciting. lucy sullivan is getting married / 425

Karen hadn't forbidden me to see Daniel. Not forbidden, as such. But I knew that she expected me to hate him for what he had done to her. That female roommate solidarity dictated a "One out, all out" stance whenever our guys dumped us. If they broke up with one of us, they had to forgo the pleasure of the company of all three.

But, once I had spoken to Daniel, I realized how much I had missed him. Now that we seemed to be friends again, it was safe to admit it. I had that bittersweet feeling that happens after you make up with someone.

He was fun and fun was a commodity that had been fairly thin on the ground of late.

I'd had enough of Karen, Charlotte and I going around with pinched faces and almost never eating--picking up a cracker, nibbling a tiny corner of it and then putting it down again and completely forgetting about it.

And I was worn down by the violent films that Karen kept renting. Carrie and Dirty Weekend and anything else that she could lay her hands on about women extracting revenge in a bloody and brutal fashion.

And Charlotte had regressed badly--we thought that we had said goodbye forever to Christopher Plummer and his thighs. But no, she had relapsed with a vengeance, watching The Sound of Music whenever Karen wasn't filling the screen with images of blood and pain. Men's blood and pain, if at all possible.

I was tired of living in a house of mourning. I wanted to put on a red dress and go out and party.

But I wasn't being fair. It was only sheer good fortune that my boyfriend had tired of me sooner than Karen's or Charlotte's, which meant that I was a couple of weeks further along the recovery process than they were.

How quickly we forget.

In fact it was only ten days since I had sat sniffing on 426 / marian keyes

the couch, the remote control in my hand, and watched the part in Termin- ator where he says "I traveled through time for you." Then rewound it and watched it again. Then rewound it and watched it again. Then rewound it and...

It's scary, the things heartbreak makes us do.

But at least it meant that business was booming for Adrian.

Daniel looked shifty and nervous as he waited in his car by the traffic lights.

"Don't expect me to talk to you," I said, as I clambered in.

I had to admit that Daniel was looking quite attractive, if you liked that kind of thing.

I thanked God I didn't.

Instead of the work suits that I normally saw him in, he was wearing faded jeans and a really nice gray sweater. A really nice gray sweater, I thought, maybe he'd let me borrow it.

And I'd never noticed before how long and thick his eyelashes were--like the gray sweater they would have looked much nicer on me.

I felt a bit shy and awkward. It had been so long since I had seen him like this, on our own, that I'd forgotten how I was supposed to behave.

But by the warm rush of affection I felt for him, I must have been glad to see him.

"Do you want to drive?" he asked. The rush of affection intensified.

"Can I?" I breathed with excitement.

I had taken driving lessons and passed my test about a year before, even though I didn't have a car, couldn't afford a car and didn't need a car. lucy sullivan is getting married / 427

I had done it to feel empowered--yet another thing that I had done to try and make me satisfied with my life. Of course it hadn't worked. But one of its side effects was that I loved driving. And Daniel had a gorgeous car, sporty and sexy. I didn't know what kind of car it was, because, after all, I was a girl. But I knew the important things--that it looked great and went really fast.

Women loved it.

So we got out and swapped sides and he threw me the keys over the roof of the car. I drove through the London traffic to Daniel's flat, and had the best time I'd had since the last night I had sex with Gus.

Although I didn't mean to, I drove like a maniac. It had been a long time since I'd been behind the wheel of a car. Too long, probably. I did all kinds of reckless things that look great if you're driving a fast car. I pulled away from traffic lights with a roar, leaving the other drivers staring bitterly after me--that was called "burning them up" said Daniel. I drove out in front of other cars--Daniel said that was called "cutting them up" and while we were stuck in a traffic jam, I winked and smiled at attractive men in other cars--Daniel said that was called "acting like a brazen trollop."

I was slightly shocked when other drivers called me names and gesticu- lated angrily at me, when I burned them up and cut them up--at least at first. But I soon got the hang of the driving etiquette. So when one man cut in front of me, I furiously yelled "Asshole!" and tried to roll down the window so I could make rude gestures at him, but I couldn't find the handle.

He drove away with a look of fear on his face. And suddenly, like a mist clearing, I saw myself as I must have appeared to others. I was shocked--I hadn't realized that 428 / marian keyes

I could be so aggressive. Worse, I hadn't realized that I'd enjoy it so much.

I was afraid that Daniel would be mad at me. "Sorry about that, Daniel," I muttered, and flicked a nervous, sidelong look at him, but he was laugh- ing. "The look on that man's face," he wheezed. "He couldn't believe it." He laughed until tears ran down his face and finally managed to say, "And by the way, the switch for the electric windows is over there."

When we got to Daniel's road and I had parked about four feet from the curb, I said, "Thank you, Daniel. That's the best fun I've had in weeks."

I wasn't a bad driver but I wasn't too good at parking.

"You're welcome," he said. "You look good in it. You and the car suit each other."

I blushed and smiled, feeling happy and embarrassed.

"But it wasn't long enough," I complained.

"Well, if you like," he said, "next weekend, I'll take you out into the country and you can burn up everyone else on the highway."

"Mmmmm," I said noncommittally. There was something about the way he said "I'll take you" rather than "We can go" that made me feel funny. Not exactly nervous...well, maybe not just nervous.

"Er, Lucy..."

"What?"

"Would you be very offended if I parked the car a bit, um, closer to the curb?"

"No." I suddenly felt the need to smile at him. "No, not at all."