‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘I was being childish. It’s not like it matters in the grand scheme of things, does it?’
‘It matters to me. It was Bertrand who organised access for me. I saw him a couple of months ago when he was over in London. Poor fucker, he’s a shadow of his former self. Don’t think he’s over it …’
‘Sorry to hear that.’ I took the cigarette from Julian’s hand, took a drag and handed it back to him. ‘How are the happy couple, anyway? You heard from him?’ I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question even though I didn’t want to know the answer.
‘Laure left him for some Spanish bloke.’ I felt a surge of adrenalin, an ignoble rush of delight.
‘When? Why didn’t you tell me? Have you seen him?’
Julian sighed and flicked the cigarette butt over the edge of the building.
‘Because it’s been two years, Nic, and I really hoped that you no longer cared.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Of course you don’t.’ He draped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer, kissed me on the head. ‘I saw him two months ago, when my grandmother died. He was at the funeral. I don’t know when they split up, he didn’t seem to want to talk about it.’ He finished his cigarette and crushed the butt beneath his foot. ‘Shall we go back down? Your boyfriend will be wondering where you’ve got to.’
* * *
We climbed back down the fire escape and made our way to the dining space where Karl was serving the starter. Dom took my hand and kissed me on the cheek.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked.
‘Everything’s fine,’ I replied. He pulled out a chair for me to sit down. I could feel Alex and Julian’s eyes on us again.
‘Remind me how you two met?’ Alex said to Dom.
Dom looked sheepish. ‘I was a fan,’ he said, giving me a shy smile. ‘I’d watched that Channel 4 programme Nic made last year, the
Boys’ Club
one. Anyway, I thought it was very interesting – it’s kind of my field, employment issues, that kind of thing – and then I saw an interview with her in the
Independent
and they had this picture …’
Julian started laughing ‘Oh god, the one where she’s wearing that … er. … rather fitted top?’
‘Oh shut up,’ I said, giving him a kick under the table. I could feel the colour rising to my cheeks.
‘That’s the one,’ Dom said. ‘I thought she was gorgeous. And would you believe it, a couple of weeks later I’m at a dinner party thrown by an old mate from college, and there she is. He’d been a consultant on the programme.’
‘So it was fate,’ Alex said with a smile.
‘I don’t know about that,’ Dom replied, ‘but the moment I saw her, I was finished. Love at first sight.’
Alex and Julian laughed, Karl whistled, Mike stifled a yawn. I went from a gentle blush to puce.
* * *
After dinner, in the kitchen space I found Alex and Julian in the corner, gossiping in hushed tones. They fell silent as I approached. Alex handed me a glass of champagne.
‘So, rebound man seems nice,’ she said with a cheeky grin.
‘He’s not the rebound man!’ Julian said, feigning outrage. ‘Didn’t you hear? It was love at first sight!’
They both giggled, peering through an archway to get another look at Dom, who was attempting to engage Mike in conversation. At just five foot eight and slight of build, he looked almost childlike, dwarfed by Mike’s six foot something rugby player’s frame.
‘Honestly,’ Alex said, ‘he’s
so
sweet.’
I rolled my eyes at them. ‘He is sweet, and he is not a rebound man. It’s been two years since I split up with Aidan.’
‘And since then you’ve had how many relationships?’ Julian asked. ‘Oh, right, that would be none at all.’
‘Bollocks!’ I said, a little too loudly. Mike and Dom looked up from the table where they were having a rather stilted conversation about the prospects for Warwickshire in the county cricket championship. ‘There was Heath …’ I whispered.
‘I said relationship, not one-night stand.’ Julian corrected me.
‘… and Peter …’
‘… whom we never met. I’m still not convinced he actually existed,’ Alex said.
‘What about Clive?’
The two of them burst out laughing.
‘Oh my god, Clive!’ Alex exclaimed, snorting with mirth. I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned Clive. ‘Clive with the slip-on shoes? He was brilliant. Wasn’t he a trainspotter?’
‘A planespotter, actually. It’s entirely different.’
‘Didn’t he take you to Heathrow for your first date?’
‘It was the Renaissance Hotel, actually. In Hounslow. It’s one of the
premier
plane-spotting hotels in Europe.’
Alex and Julian clung to each other, helpless with mirth.
‘All right, all right,’ I said, stifling my own giggles. ‘I’ll admit, Clive was a bit of a low point. And okay, I haven’t had any real relationships since Aidan. But that does not make Dom a rebound man. He’s kind, funny and attractive. He’s a grown-up.’
Alex yawned.
‘Don’t be rude about him, Alex. You might just be looking at my future husband in there.’
‘Yeah, right,’ she said with a wry smile. She grabbed another bottle of champagne from the fridge and sauntered off into the living space, singing ‘Inbetweener’ as she went.
‘He’s not a prince, he’s not a king, he’s not a work of art or anything …’
‘Shut up, Alex,’ I warned her, beaming at Dom who was now discussing Gus Van Sant’s latest film with Karl. Mike was reading text messages on his phone.
Mike was a bit of a mystery to us all. It was true that Alex and I had never had similar taste in men, but in the past at least I’d understood the attraction. However, with Mike it was a source of persistent amazement to me – and to Julian – that he was still around. He had his good points, of course. He was good-looking, he had lots of money, he drove a very nice car, he lived in a flat in Chelsea. I could see how he’d be attractive for a brief fling, but more than that … I just didn’t get it.
Alex knew I didn’t get it, and we’d agreed to disagree on the subject.
‘He treats me well, Nic. He’d do anything for me,’ she told me. I believed her: he did treat her well, he bought her great presents, he paid for expensive holidays like the skiing trip they’d just been on to Verbier. But I never saw them laughing together. Plus, I couldn’t bear the way he felt it necessary to slap her on the arse every time she walked past him. Or the fact that he read the
Daily Mail
, and voted Tory and was forever complaining about ‘bloody immigrants’ despite the fact that he was about to marry one. The wedding was to take place in April and I was maid of honour. So I just had to grin and bear it.
I had to grin and bear the wedding chatter, too. Over dessert we’d covered dates for the final three (three!) fittings for my bridesmaid’s dress (‘Just in case you put on weight,’ Alex explained. ‘Or lose it,’ she added diplomatically); the choice of vehicle to carry Alex to the church (‘Classic Roller or something more sporty? Or should I just go full-on princess and get a horse-drawn carriage?’); and had a lively debate on the pros and cons of a tian of prawn and crab versus classic smoked salmon as a starter. Now she’d moved onto speeches.
‘I think Nicole should make a speech,’ she announced, as I choked on my wine.
‘No …’ I spluttered. ‘I really don’t think that’s a great idea.’
‘Women don’t make speeches,’ Mike said. ‘It’s not traditional. And women are never very funny, are they? How many great comediennes do you know?’
‘I think they’re just called comedians now,’ Julian said. Mike harrumphed.
‘Mike’s absolutely right,’ I said, to looks of amazement from Julian and Karl. ‘Women should be seen and not heard. They’ve no place giving speeches at weddings.’
‘You’re just chicken,’ Alex muttered.
‘I’m a traditionalist,’ I retorted, prompting disbelieving laughter all round. ‘But I tell you what, if you move the wedding to Cape Town, rather than Sussex, I’d be prepared to cast aside my conservatism and write a few lines …’
‘Exactly!’ Julian said. ‘I can’t believe you’re getting married in some cutesy English village rather than giving us an excuse to go on holiday to South Africa.’
‘Yes, well,’ Mike said gruffly, getting to his feet, ‘not everything about this wedding revolves around Alex’s friends.’ And with that he headed off in the direction of the bathroom.
Alex pulled a face. ‘He’s a bit touchy about the whole Sussex thing.
Everyone’s
been complaining that we’re not going to South Africa. I think he’s feeling a bit hurt.’
‘It’s understandable,’ Karl said diplomatically. ‘If I were going to get married, I’d probably want to do it in my home town.’
‘If you were to get married?’ Julian asked him with a smile. ‘Not very likely, is it?’
‘Well, maybe not a full church wedding, but they are going to allow civil partnerships here shortly, aren’t they? So why not?’
Julian sighed dramatically. ‘Christ, I always thought one of the great things about being gay is that you don’t have to get married. Why would we want to pretend to be heterosexual? It’s a horrible way to live. Homos have much more fun.’
Alex and I exchanged a familiar glance: a look of affection, tinged with just a touch of envy. We’d spoken about Karl and Julian’s perfect relationship before. It couldn’t be improved upon. They never tired of each other; they never bickered. They backed up each other. They adored each other. And, so Julian told me, they had great sex together. They were absolutely right for each other. It was incredibly annoying.
* * *
At a few minutes to midnight, Karl opened yet another bottle of champagne, poured us each a glass and tinged his flute with a fork.
‘Right. Since we’re not allowed to share our resolutions because that’s Julian and Nicole’s thing and they’re completely weird about sharing their little ritual, despite the fact that
everyone on the planet does it
, I think that to ring in the New Year we should all say something we’re grateful for.’
‘Like Thanksgiving?’ Mike suggested.
‘Exactly.’
‘I’ll go first then,’ Mike said, getting to his feet. He cleared his throat and raised his glass, turning to face Alex. ‘It’s pretty simple, really. And pretty obvious. I’m thankful that the most beautiful girl in the world has agreed to marry me.’ Alex smiled coyly and fluttered her lashes at him ‘And the thing is, the thing people don’t realise, is that her beauty isn’t even the best of her. She’s generous and kind, she’s going to be a great mum …’ There was a little ‘oooh’ at this point from Julian and Karl. ‘And I love her, and I’m so happy we’re going to be together. That’s it.’
And in that moment I caught a glimpse, as I occasionally did, of how lovely Mike was with her, and of how much he loved her, and I chastised myself, yet again, for allowing my liberal feminista sensibilities to prevent me from embracing my friend’s husband-to-be.
Alex, wiping a tear from her eye, got to her feet next. ‘Can I be grateful for two things?’ she asked.
‘She’s so greedy,’ Julian tutted.
She giggled. ‘I’ll be brief. Number one, I’m thankful for my amazing husband to be …’ she held out her hand to him and he kissed it, ‘… and number two, I’m thankful for my bloody amazing job!’ Alex had just been promoted to the head of marketing at Scribe, the little publishing house where she worked, quite an achievement for a twenty-six-year-old. ‘I really am a very lucky girl.’
Julian was next to his feet. ‘I could go on about new opportunities and new horizons and of course I’m thankful for that, but obviously the two things in the whole world I am most thankful for are the love of my life, who I found three years ago today …’ he stopped to give Karl a kiss, ‘… and the best friend I’ll ever have, who I found thirteen years ago today. Lucky for some,’ he said, raising a glass to me.
Karl went next. ‘Well, I know I’m supposed to say I’m thankful for Jules because we’re all being all lovey dovey and things, but really right now I’m most thankful for my fabulous new apartment,’ he said with a grin. Everyone gave a little cheer. ‘And of course for the fact that I sold four paintings this year, which is four more than I sold last year.’
There was a little round of applause and then silence fell as Dom got to his feet, blushing before he even started speaking.
‘Dom shouldn’t have to do this,’ I objected, ‘he doesn’t even know you all.’
‘Oh yes he should!’ came the chorus from the rest of them.
‘I’m grateful for the opportunity to spend the evening with you all,’ Dom said diplomatically, ‘and of course I’m grateful to have met Nicole. And for Radiohead.
Hail to the Thief
is a fucking work of genius.’
I breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down. I wasn’t quite ready for another declaration of love.
And then it was my turn. ‘Well,’ I said, feeling faintly ridiculous as I got to my feet, ‘I’m thankful for us. For all of us. It feels like … things are coming together for us all. We have good jobs, we have great lovers, some of us have fabulous apartments … so I think that’s plenty to be thankful for. And now I think it’s almost midnight so I think we should all drink our champagne and snog and stop being so fucking cheesy!’