‘We need to talk,’ Josie said bluntly. ‘That’s why I’m here.’
. . . moves in for the kill
Lisa’s head jerked up, as if it were on a string. She met Josie’s eye and nodded, her mouth curled in a sort of grimace of – what? Pain? Fear?
‘Do you want something to drink?’ she asked. Her
voice
was artificially bright. ‘Fizzy water, or . . .’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ Josie said. She didn’t want to get steered off course, going through Lisas beverage collection.
Lisa opened the fridge door and pulled out a bottle of water. Of course, being Lisa, she also popped out a couple of
ice
cubes and cut half-slices of lemon too before pouring.
Standards, darling! Even when under attack!
Josie took the glass. The bubbles were racing to the top of the water, knocking the
ice cubes
against each other. She took a sip, wondering what was going to happen next.
‘Let’s go and sit in the garden,’ Lisa said. She had taken control of the situation, Josie realized with a jolt. How come
Lisa
was calling the shots all of a sudden?
The second female leads the attacking female away from her territory where she. . .
Where she what? Attacks her right back?
Lisa hadn’t waited for a reply, she was already padding across the floor to the back door, glass in hand. Josie followed, her resolve shrinking away.
Come on. She’s in the
wrong, remember? Moral high ground? She’s miles from it. Whereas I . . . I’m right at the highest pint of the moral high ground. And we both know it.
Lisa’s garden was long and rectangular, edged with mature trees. The sun streamed through them, casting a dappled light on the small patio area at the back of the house. A round mosaic table and chairs were set up, sheltered by a low stone wall Lisa sat down at the table and looked at Josie expectantly. ‘Have a seat,’ she said.
Josie sat. This was all so very civil of them, she couldn’t help thinking. All so controlled, so English. Afternoon tea – all right, afternoon
sparkling water
– on the patio, no slapping, no shouting. Well – not yet, anyway.
She
cleared
her throat, feeling as if she ought to lead the conversation, reclaim a bit of control. ‘You said in the birthday card you sent that you wanted to explain,’ she began. There. Gauntlet thrown. Over to you, Lise.
Lisa nodded. She took a long slug of water, dark eyes upon Josie. If she felt under pressure at all, she wasn’t letting it show. How extremely irritating, Josie thought, crossing her legs under the table and shifting uncomfortably on the slatted metal seat.
‘I do want to explain,’ she replied after a moment. She pushed her hair back behind her ears, making a ponytail of it with her hand and twisting it around. ‘Where do you want me to begin?’
Josie sighed impatiently. ‘Just . . . I don’t care,’ she replied, batting a hand through the air. ‘Wherever you want. It was you who said you wanted to talk. “If you ever valued our friendship”, you said. And I did. So that’s why I came. So just tell me.’
Lisa nodded, releasing her hair again. It fell in a thick, shining mass around her shoulders, and Josie felt her fingers tighten on her glass. It was a mistake to come here, she thought A mistake. If Lisa thought she could wriggle out of this one, then . . .
It started not long after the boys were born,’ Lisa said, looking down at the table.
Josie’s stomach lurched and suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to know after all. ‘What a cliche,’ she said coldly to cover up her feelings. ‘I should have guessed.’
Lisa merely nodded, as if agreeing. She traced a finger around the line of tiles on the table, and Josie felt herself staring at the polished red nail as if it were a hypnotist’s chain. ‘You were knackered, of course, and wrapped up in the boys,’ Lisa went on, ‘and . . .’
‘How inconsiderate of me,’ Josie said. She could feel the rage creeping through her, the pressure building now that they were finally discussing this. It had been restrained inside her the whole time since Lisa had opened the front door, wide-eyed, but now she could feel the anger building like a rising tide. ‘What, so you offered Pete a shoulder to cry on, and . . . ?’
‘Josie, please,’ Lisa said. ‘I’m trying to tell you.’ Josie fell silent, and there was a small pause before she pressed on. ‘I bumped into Pete when he was in London for a meeting with one of the guys one day. It was purely chance. Nothing premeditated. He was looking a bit tired, and . . .’
Josie clenched her fists under the table.
Oh, my heart bleeds
, she wanted to say sarcastically.
Poor, tired Pete – let Lisa make it all better for you!
‘He was looking tired, so I asked if he was OK, and how it was all going at home,’ Lisa went on, with a wary look at Josie. ‘And he asked if I fancied going for a drink, because he was worried about you and wanted to talk to me about you.’
Josie snorted. ‘So worried about me that he jumped into bed with
you
,’ she said scornfully. ‘What a nice little story.’
Lisa sipped her water. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said. ‘Nothing happened that evening. Nothing at all. We just talked, and he went back to you, and I came home. Then, a week or so later, he sent me an email saying he was going to be up in London again, and did I want to have lunch sometime. So we went for lunch. And then one thing led to another . . .’
Josie glared at her. ‘One thing led to another? For fuck’s sake! How does going for lunch with your friend’s husband lead to having an affair with him? How does that happen?’
‘I—’ Lisa started to say, but Josie was already on her feet. Her chair squawked as she pushed it back, hands shaking.
‘I thought I wanted to know,’ she said, stalking away. ‘But I was wrong. I don’t. It just makes it even worse.’ Then something clicked in her mind and she stopped, swivelling around again to face Lisa. ‘Hold on,’ she said slowly. ‘I thought that was when you started seeing
Guy
, when the boys were babies. I thought that was when you fell in love, had your big, this-is-it romance?’
Lisa’s face was pale, and her eyes glistened with tears. She nodded, as if she were afraid to speak. ‘Yes,’ she said after a moment. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ She bit her lip. ‘Guy was Pete. It was a kind of code, so that I could say, “I’m in love with this guy,” and nobody would know . . .’ Her voice trailed away to a whisper. ‘It was kind of a joke.’
Josie felt as if she’d been slapped. ‘A joke? A
joke
?’ she said, her voice hollow. ‘Well, excuse me if I don’t wet myself laughing.’ She clenched her fists. ‘Excuse me if I don’t find that very funny!’
‘Josie, please – let me explain,’ Lisa said. ‘Please!’ She started talking quickly, before Josie could get away. ‘Yes, I lost the plot a bit. I was infatuated, crazy about him. And no, I didn’t stop to think about you. And I’m sorry. That was selfish of me, and—’
‘I’ll say,’ Josie spat. She stood there, glaring at Lisa, despising her.
‘And stupid of me, too. I’ve been a crap friend, I betrayed your trust, I crossed the line,’ Lisa said. ‘And I’m so sorry for that. I know you’ll never forgive me, and I don’t blame you.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t expect you to forgive me.’
Silence hung between them. A faint breeze rustled the leaves in the trees, and Josie rubbed her bare arms.
‘So . . . how did it end?’ she asked. ‘Who dumped who?’ She licked her lips while she waited for Lisa to reply, feeling vulnerable. She really wanted Lisa to tell her that Pete had ditched her. Pete had seen sense, had realized he loved Josie more. It mattered.
‘It was complicated,’ Lisa said. She hid her face in her hands for a moment, before looking up again at Josie. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ she asked. ‘I’d really like to tell you. I’ve never actually told another person what happened, and it’s kind of . . .’
Josie hovered, her angry feelings wrestling with her curiosity. Sod it, she was here now, she might as well listen. If she walked away without knowing how the story ended, she’d forever be wondering. She sat down rather ungraciously, and picked up her glass of water, draining it in a single gulp. She clattered it back down on the table and faced Lisa, a hard look on her face.
Lisa took a deep breath. ‘I was always more into the relationship than Pete,’ she started baldly. ‘I know that now – well, I suppose I knew it then, too. He always held back – because of you, I’m sure. Whereas I . . .’ She shut her eyes briefly, as if it pained her, then looked Josie full in the face. ‘Well, I was mad about him. Sorry. I know it must sound awful. Such a bitch, I know, for me to fall in love with your husband like that, but . . .’
Josie said nothing.
‘. . . I did. It was like I was blind to the fact that you were one of my best friends; I just couldn’t see past my infatuation to get a grip on the situation.’ She sighed. ‘Sounds pathetic, I know, but there you go. And no, before you ask, it was nothing to do with what happened with Nick.’ Her
voice
rose half an octave. ‘Nothing at all. It wasn’t revenge or anything like that. It was separate. Anyway. Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag this out. I . . .’ She raked a hand through her hair, and sighed again. ‘The long and the short of it was, I got pregnant.’
Josie gasped in surprise. ‘Oh God,’ she said. Her mouth fell open. ‘So . . . So what happened?’
Lisa gave a rueful smile. ‘He didn’t want to know, is what happened. He was furious, actually. Said he already had two kids, didn’t want a third—’
‘Oh, no!’ Josie felt winded. Had Pete really been so harsh?
‘Oh yes.’ Lisa stared into the middle distance. ‘And that was it – I never saw him again. Well, apart from Bev’s wedding last year, when you were there too. Didn’t you wonder why I kept avoiding you the whole time?’
Josie’s hand flew up to her mouth. ‘Well, I . . .’ She paused, not able to move on from Lisa’s pregnancy. ‘So did Pete ditch you, just like that?’
‘Just like that.’
There was a moment of silence. A cabbage-white butterfly zigzagged across the garden, ghostly wings fluttering.
‘Fuck,’ Josie said, looking hard at Lisa. ‘What a bastard.’
Lisa traced a pattern on the table. She didn’t raise her eyes. ‘Absolutely,’ she agreed.
‘So, what happened? With the baby?’ It was hard to take everything in. To think that all this had happened without her knowing about it! There she’d been, staggering through the zombie months of early motherhood, haggard and irritable, and meanwhile, in another part of the world, there had been this relationship, the sex, conception . . . the baby?
Lisa bit her lip. ‘She died,’ she said flatly. She looked up, and Josie could read the pain in her eyes.
‘Oh, no,’ Josie said. She reached over the table and took Lisa’s hand. ‘Oh, Lisa.’
‘Despite everything, Pete being such a shit, me broken-hearted, you in the dark, despite all of that, I decided to keep the baby,’ she said. There was a heaviness in her
voice.
‘I know it probably sounds mad to you: me, the career woman, considering dropping it all to become a single mum, but that’s the decision I made.’
‘God,’ Josie said. ‘I’m so—’
Lisa shook her head. ‘Don’t. This is really hard to say. Just let me say it.’
Josie nodded. ‘Sorry. OK.’
It was like, I wasn’t sure if I would ever fall in love again,’ she went on. ‘I wasn’t sure if I would ever have the chance to be pregnant again, without getting a donor or . . . well, you know. Turkey-baster job and all that. And I wanted a child. I really did.’ She sighed. ‘Still do, but . . . Anyway. I didn’t tell anyone about the pregnancy. It was easy enough to keep secret at first. By the time I started showing, it was winter and I could cover up the bump with layers and . . . Well, you know. And even though I was scared about doing it all on my own – Pete had made it absolutely clear he wanted nothing to do with the baby – I’d made my mind up. I’m a tough person, I can do stuff without a man around.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And then, when I was twenty-five weeks pregnant, she died. Stillbirth. Just one of those things, they said to me.’ A tear rolled down her cheek. ‘Sometimes it happens, they said. Something wrong with the placenta. We don’t know why.’
‘Oh, Lisa,’ Josie said again, gripping her hand. ‘Oh, God, I’m so—’
‘I had to go through the birth and everything,’ Lisa said tonelessly. ‘They induced me to bring on the labour, and I was all on my own. Told work I’d been rushed in to have my appendix out, when all the time I was delivering my dead baby, all on my own. Delivering Rose.’
‘Rose?
Josie echoed. A shiver went down her back, even though it was hot and airless in the garden.
‘That’s what I called her,’ Lisa said. ‘It was my nan’s name.’ Her gaze rested on the rose bush nearby, which was covered in fragrant white velvety blooms. ‘I always wanted a daughter,’ she said. Another tear rolled down her cheek, and splashed on the table. She turned back to look at Josie, her mouth trembling. ‘So you see, I was punished for it. I was punished for what I did with your husband. And while you may hate me for the rest of our lives, I’ve paid the price. I lost my baby. I lost my little girl.’
Josie pushed herself off her chair and threw her arms around Lisa. ‘Sweetheart,’ she murmured into Lisa’s shiny hair. ‘How horrible. How awful.’