Authors: Jane Green
‘You know what’s weird? I was sitting in front of the fire just now, thinking about him, and I suddenly had this really strong feeling that he will look back and know that this marriage was wrong. I don’t love him, and everybody deserves to be loved. I feel horrible that I wasn’t able to love him. I’ve never been able to give him the attention or affection that he wanted. Maybe that’s why he disappeared off to work all the time.’
‘I think that’s incredibly noble of you,’ Will says quietly. ‘And you’re right, everyone does deserve to be loved. Including you. Haven’t you always said that you felt that Marcus didn’t love you, but that he loved who he wanted you to be? Don’t you deserve to be loved as well? Loved for who you are, not for dressing up and entertaining and being a perfect trophy wife?’
‘Yes. Thank you for saying that.’
‘My pleasure. So how long are you up there for?’
‘I have no idea. Saffron will be here until it all blows over, I suppose, and the rest of us will just have to see. Maybe we could do some sort of a rota.’
‘Is Saffron not capable of being alone?’ Will laughs. ‘Has she turned into that much of a diva?’
‘God, no. Not what you think. She’s just… fragile right now. She needs her friends.’
‘I was joking,’ Will says. ‘I think you’re all amazing being there for her. It’s exactly what Tom would have done.’
‘I know. That’s just what Olivia and I were saying.’ She shivers, standing up and pacing in the cold. ‘I’m bloody freezing, Will. I have to get inside and there’s no reception.’
‘Can I call you out there?’
‘You probably won’t get me but text or leave a message and I’ll call you back when I get a signal. Thank you, Will. It means so much to me that you called.’ And Holly goes back inside to curl up by the fire and think about her life as she waits for the house to wake up.
‘Bacon, eggs, bread, orange juice…’ Paul turns to Olivia. ‘Was there anything else?’
Olivia looks at her list. ‘Milk. Papers.’
‘Okay. I’ll get the papers and start paying, you get the milk.’
Paul grabs a handful and stops in his tracks as he looks at the front page of the
Mirror
.
‘Got the milk!’ Olivia calls as she comes back up the aisle, weighed down by a giant bottle of semi-skimmed milk. ‘What’s the matter?’ And she sidles next to him, her hand flying up to her mouth as she sees the front page.
SAFFY DAFFY AND DRUNK!
Brit actress bonking Pearce flies into Heathrow, smashed!
Do you know her mystery new man? Call this number and
tell us who he is!
‘Oh shit!’ she whispers. ‘It’s you, isn’t it? I mean, you can’t see that clearly, given that you’re carrying Saffron, but it is you.’
‘Oh fuck,’ he whispers. ‘Let’s just hope to Christ nobody phones them. The last thing we need is for the press to bring Anna into it and then find out where we are. This is just horrific.’
‘What a bloody nightmare.’ Olivia sighs. ‘Don’t bring it home, let’s check the rest for Saffron-free papers, and we’ll bring those instead.’
‘What? No tabloids? What kind of a man goes out to get the papers and comes back without the rags, for God’s sake?’
‘The kind of man who wants to protect his friends from seeing yet more stories,’ Paul leans down and whispers in Holly’s ear.
‘Oh God. Is it bad?’
‘Let’s just say it’s not good. Sssh. I think Saffron’s coming. Don’t say anything, and I’ll tell you later. Here, you whisk the eggs,’ and he hands Holly the box of eggs and a large blue bowl.
Saffron has never done anything by halves. When she smoked, she smoked two packs a day. When she quit, she never looked at a cigarette again… until she started again. When she exercises, she does so obsessively, two hours a day with a personal trainer, every day, lying in bed exercising in her mind, thinking of little else until she misses a day or two and then does nothing at all for months.
She can go for weeks without spending a penny, then goes on spending sprees, buying armfuls of stuff she neither wants nor needs, unable to see clearly, so excited by the buzz of shopping, like a drug addict getting high.
Or an alcoholic getting drunk.
So when Saffron falls off the wagon, she doesn’t do so slowly and gracefully. She does it in the way she does everything else in her life. Spectacularly. At great speed and to great excess.
She hadn’t meant to lose her sobriety. When she was sitting in the airport bar, her intention truly was to have one drink. Perhaps two, just to help her relax, just to take the edge off the enormous stress that she was suddenly under. Other people were able to have one or two drinks, why not her? She’d been sober for years, had been to countless parties where alcohol was being served, and hadn’t been tempted once. Of course
she could handle one or two drinks, why was she so different?
Then there was the plane. First class. Champagne on tap. Why not? Just this once. Such a warm, familiar feeling. So lovely to relax as the buzz started up. She felt loose and giggly and happy. Happy again for the first time in days. She wasn’t a noisy drunk, just snuggled up quietly under her blanket downing glass after glass as the rest of the cabin fell asleep or watched movies.
She doesn’t remember much about arriving. Stewards and stewardesses seemed to be muttering in their walkie-talkies, and she was able to remember to cover her head with a scarf, push huge Jackie-O-style sunglasses onto her face. She remembers being hustled through noise, her name being called, flashes of light on her face as she giggled woozily, and then – bliss – being picked up and falling asleep on someone’s shoulder as she was carried out to a car.
Again, last night, she hadn’t meant to drink. Had absolutely meant every word when she told Anna and Paul – oh sweet Anna and Paul who had come to her rescue – that she would never drink again. She felt horrible when she finally woke up. Her head was pounding, waves of nausea kept coming over her, and she knew that it was a brief slip. That she never wanted to feel this way again, the way she felt for so many years before coming into AA.
But then, late yesterday afternoon, all she could think about was having a drink. Just one. Not to get drunk, just… just because she could. The thought became an
obsession, and no one would know if she disappeared for a quick drink. Just one. Why not?
‘Saff!’ Holly looks up from whisking the eggs and grimaces at the sight of Saffron, bleary-eyed, hung-over, skin an odd shade of grey. ‘Oh if they could see you now.’ She shakes her head in amazement, thinking of all the publicity shots of Saffron over the years, gorgeous and glamorous, posing on red carpets all over the world in floor-length beaded gowns.
A world away from this creature now. Not a scrap of make-up, old grey sweats and a baggy jumper, long glossy locks held back messily in a clip.
‘Oh don’t,’ Saffron groans, coming over to give Holly a kiss. ‘I feel horrible. If they could see me now they’d have a field day.’ Paul and Olivia exchange a glance – thank God they didn’t bring that paper home.
‘Oh look at your chickens!’ Saffron says, seeing Daisy and Oliver, bundled up in hats and gloves, playing outside the kitchen window. ‘Aren’t they gorgeous!’
‘I’m surprised you can see them under all those layers.’ Holly smiles. ‘But thank you. I think they’re pretty damn gorgeous, even though I’m ever so slightly biased.’
‘Coffee?’ Paul says brightly, placing a mug in front of a grateful Saffron.
‘Mmm.’ She takes a sip, looking sheepishly around the table. ‘I think I owe you all an apology,’ she says quietly. ‘I’m so sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to…’ She stops, sighing. ‘It won’t happen again.
Honestly. I don’t know what came over me, but I won’t let it happen again.’
The others just look at her, not saying anything, and Saffron raises her hand, dipping her head in contrition. ‘I know, I know I’ve said that before, but this time I mean it.’
‘In actual fact–’ Anna starts setting the plates around the table as Paul brings the eggs over–‘you’ll probably be too busy to think about sneaking off to the pub again.’
‘Busy? How?’
‘We’ve decided to try to get this house finished.’ Paul sits down and helps himself to bacon. ‘We’ve assigned everyone jobs, and you and Anna are starting with tiling the bathroom.’
Saffron starts to laugh. ‘Ow,’ she groans again, holding her head. ‘Shit, that hurts. You have to be kidding
… Me? Tiling a bathroom?’
Olivia’s mouth opens in amazement. ‘Tell me you haven’t seriously become that much of a diva.’
‘No!’ Saffron exclaims in horror. ‘It’s just that I’m hopeless at anything like that. I’ve never tiled a thing in my life. I mean, fine, I’ll do it, just as long as you don’t mind wonky tiles.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Anna brushes her off. ‘I’m doing it with you and I’ll show you what to do. It’s easy. Of course you could do the floor-sanding instead if you want.’
‘No, no,’ Saffron shakes her head, looking at the vast expanse of rough, stained wood in the living room, ‘tiling’s fine.’ She starts to laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’ Paul looks up.
‘Just that I never expected to be here tiling a bathroom. Life seemed so settled, and then… It’s just so bizarre how everything in life can change in a heartbeat.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Holly snorts. ‘Just so you know, I think I’ve left Marcus.’
‘You have? Good girl!’ Saffron exclaims.
‘Why good girl?’ Although it’s not as if Holly doesn’t know.
‘Because he’s a pompous, stuck-up arse, that’s why.’
‘Saffron!’ Olivia admonishes her.
‘Why? It’s true, isn’t it?’ And at this, Holly starts to laugh.
‘You haven’t changed at all.’ Holly grins. ‘You still say exactly what’s on your mind.’
Saffron shrugs. ‘I’d rather be honest, although I apologize if I upset you. I could have been less mean.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Holly says. ‘He is a pompous arse. I’m just not used to people coming out and saying it. Do me a favour, though, and don’t say anything in front of the children.’
‘I imagine that once people know you’re definitely separated, you’ll be hearing that from pretty much everyone, but of course I won’t say anything in front of the kids. Can I meet them?’
‘Is breakfast ready?’ Saffron looks over at Paul, who nods. ‘Let’s get them in.’
‘Mummy,’ Daisy has put down her fork and is staring at Saffron, ‘I thought you said your friend was a beautiful famous actress.’
Paul shouts with laughter and Saffron gives him an exaggerated evil eye.
‘Daisy!’ Oliver says loudly. ‘That’s very rude.’
‘No it’s not!’ she says, her voice rising towards tears. ‘It’s not rude, it’s true.’
‘It is rude. Isn’t it rude, Mummy? To make comments about people when they’re sitting in front of you?’
‘I wasn’t making comments.’ Daisy pouts. ‘I was just saying she’s not beautiful.’
‘It’s okay, Oliver.’ Saffron smiles. ‘I don’t mind. Usually I am beautiful and famous, but today I’m just ordinary. I change, a bit like Cinderella.’
‘You forgot to say modest.’ Paul grins.
‘Ah yes. That too. Olivia?’ Saffron suddenly looks over at Olivia. ‘You look horrible. Are you okay?’
‘Back in a sec,’ Olivia gulps, standing up and rushing from the table, hand over her mouth.
Seconds later the unmistakable sound of retching and heaving comes from the upstairs bathroom.
‘Oh God.’ Paul stops chewing and lays his knife and fork down. ‘Just what I need to hear in the middle of breakfast.’
Saffron reaches over and steals a piece of bacon off his plate, chewing on it thoughtfully. ‘Doesn’t bother me. Is she ill or is she pregnant?’
Paul starts to laugh. ‘Olivia, pregnant? Hardly,’ and then he sees Holly’s face. ‘Oh God. Is she?’
Holly tries to feign ignorance, but she has always been a terrible liar.
‘Don’t ask me,’ she says eventually. ‘It’s got nothing to do with me.’
Olivia comes back into the room, breathing newly brushed minty breath, looking more than a little uncomfortable.
‘So… are you preg?’ Saffron looks straight at her.
‘God, Saff.’ Paul rolls his eyes. ‘Subtlety would take you a long way, you know.’ Olivia shoots a look at Holly, who shakes her head vigorously. It wasn’t me, she wants to say.
‘What’s preg?’ Oliver pipes up loudly. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Sssh, Oliver,’ Holly says. ‘I’ll tell you later.’
‘It’s okay, Oliver.’ Olivia sinks down at the table, and shrugs. ‘It means I’m having a baby. It also means it’s a bloody nightmare. Whoops, excuse my language. But, yes. It would seem that despite being resolutely single and having never wanted children my entire life, I am now pregnant.’
‘So who’s the lucky man?’ Saffron says.
‘No one worth talking about. Nice guy, American, we’re no longer in touch.’
‘Not the guy Tom introduced you to?’ Saffron says, and Olivia nods miserably.
‘Does he know?’ Anna asks. Olivia shakes her head.
‘I can’t see the point,’ Olivia says quietly. ‘I haven’t decided whether or not I’ll keep it.’
Holly is looking at Anna as Olivia talks and sees the shock on Anna’s face. The shock and dismay that Olivia could so casually get rid of a baby, when she and Paul would give anything in the world to have one.
‘You would have an abortion?’ Anna asks softly, attempting to keep the emotion out of her voice,
attempting not to judge, or at least not to let her judgement show.
Olivia, suddenly remembering Paul and Anna talking about IVF, starts to backtrack furiously. ‘I don’t know…’ she says quickly. ‘I mean, I haven’t decided. I just don’t know what to do, haven’t really made any decision…’
‘It’s okay,’ Paul says, taking Anna’s hand under the table and squeezing it. ‘You don’t have to censor yourself because of us.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Olivia looks directly at Anna, who looks as if she’s going to cry. ‘I didn’t want to say anything. I wasn’t going to say anything. I thought I could just quietly go and have a termination and nobody would ever know.’
‘It’s fine,’ Paul says as a tear rolls slowly down Anna’s face. ‘Don’t worry. What’s important is how you feel.’
‘Mummy?’ Oliver again, looking confused. ‘What’s a bortion?’