Still Thinking of You (41 page)

70. Tash’s Advice

When Mia first offered to share her room with Tash for the night, it struck Tash as bizarre. Only hours before she would have been surprised at Mia offering her a cup of coffee, let alone a lifeline. Tash briefly wondered whether she ought to feel wary of sudden friendships. After all, she now understood that Jayne’s intimacy was calculated and had never been born of genuine affection. Indeed, the opposite was true. Jayne had faked a friendship so as to be in a position to hurt Tash. It made her shudder.

However, Tash’s embryonic friendship with Mia seemed very different. For a start, it was born out of months of hostilities, rather than seconds of attraction. Tash did not know why that should be a comfort, but it was. She did, at least, know something of Mia. In fact, after several hours of talking she believed she knew an awful lot. Mia spoke with dignified honesty and a sometimes painful but always indisputable clarity.

Throughout the evening Mia indulged herself. She dredged up her and Jason’s history and paraded it in front of Tash for inspection. She had never treated herself to such girlie comfort before. She explained how they’d suddenly and almost inexplicably split up at college. Their break-up was precipitated by a breakdown in communication, more than anything else. Mia admitted that no one had ever come close to satisfying her emotional, physical and intellectual needs in the way that Jason had.

‘Jason’s never dated anyone seriously either, has he?’ asked Tash.

‘No, he’s a terrible tart.’

‘Or, it might be that he is also struggling to find someone who comes up to scratch, after you,’ suggested Tash.

Both the girls were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, which was illuminated by moonlight. There was a long silence. Mia weighed up the potential of Tash being right.

‘Do you think so?’ asked Mia.

Tash turned on her side and propped herself up on her elbow.

‘Go and ask him, Mia,’ she encouraged.

It was three in the morning. The girls had talked all night. Hostilities had halted, and new allegiances had been formed. They were behaving as though they were in a Cabinet room at a time of great crisis. They had no concept of time and little concept of reality. Everything seemed to be topsy-turvy. That night, opportunity had turned into probability. Love had turned sour. Mistrust had turned to friendship. Anything was possible.

‘What would I say to him?’ Mia asked.

For the first time, for as long as she could remember, Mia wanted advice. She was at sea and wanted to get to dry land. She hoped and thought Tash had the skills to get her there.

‘Just be honest, Mia. Tell him that the baby stuff was real, but not absolutely considered. Tell him you want to give it a go. Tell him you want to be a conventional couple. The way I see it you have already wasted years, what more have you got to lose?’

‘Precisely nothing,’ said Mia, as she climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes.

‘Good luck,’ said Tash, as Mia quietly closed the door behind her.

Friday
71. Something Blue

Tash was relieved to see Mia go. Not only did she believe that Mia and Jason had a genuine chance of making one another happy, but also, from a more selfish point of view, she needed the space. It had been useful to stumble across Mia’s confusion and for Tash to dive into her problems, rather than have to face her own terror. But now, at precisely three fifteen on the morning of what ought to have been her wedding, Tash wanted to think about her own situation.

She ought to have been asleep dreaming of the best day of her life. Or, if she was awake, it ought to have been because of giddy excitement, not the crucifying ache that throbbed in her gut which was keeping her awake now.

How could he have done it to her? How could he have lied and cheated? And exactly what had he done to her? Was he having an affair as Jayne claimed? Or was it something in his past, still terrible but perhaps not quite so insistent? What did he mean when he said the kiss and the grope meant nothing? How could a kiss and a grope mean nothing? Was he referring to the kiss in the cinema that Mia had seen? Or was there another kiss and grope? The questions fell in and out of her mind. They jostled with one another, demanding consideration. Each question she answered only pushed another to the front. What sort of man had a ten-year shag-buddy? What was it about Jayne that made Rich go back and back? What was it about her that meant he never wanted to stay? Why hadn’t he told her about Jayne? Was she his back-up? Did he love Jayne? Did he love her? Did she love him? Did it matter either way?

Tash finally fell asleep at six in the morning, only to be awoken by Mia’s alarm clock at seven. There was a split second when Tash’s heart sang. It was her wedding day. Oh, my God, she was the happiest woman on the planet, and then almost in the same instant she remembered where she was sleeping and why, and her heart broke all over again.

She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She needed to eat breakfast. She didn’t feel much that way inclined, but she had to call the Registrar and cancel the wedding and she had to talk to the chef and the maître d’. Rich wouldn’t think to cancel the arrangements; he’d had so little to do with making them. Too busy getting his end away. Bastard.

The shame and disappointment overwhelmed her. Tash started to weep, but there was no one to wipe her tears, so they washed down the plug hole with the soapy suds.

Lloyd was waiting for her in the breakfast room.

‘I’m very sorry, Tash,’ he said, as he leapt up to hug her. Tash leant into his chest, grateful for the hug and the warmth of another body.

‘Does everyone know?’

‘Rich is in a very bad way. He came to my room last night to look for you.’

‘I was with Mia.’

‘I guess he didn’t think of that.’

‘No,’ smiled Tash, ‘I don’t suppose it was expected.’

‘Sit down. I’ll get your breakfast.’

Lloyd scuttled to the buffet table and piled a number of pastries on to a plate. He grabbed a yoghurt and ordered some toast and fried breakfast from the chef. He wanted to be a help and would have been mortified to realize that he was appearing insensitive as he whistled the tune of ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning’ under his breath. A song long banished to the deepest recesses of his mind, as long ago as junior school.

‘You seem very perky, Lloyd,’ said Tash, as she accepted the plate of pastries.

‘Do I?’ Lloyd was stricken. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Tash grinned. ‘I’m not one for spreading misery. Hit me with it, what’s going on in your life?’

Lloyd felt a little shamefaced in light of Tash’s personal problems; on the other hand, he really, really wanted to tell someone. And Tash was the someone he wanted to tell.

‘Greta flew in last night.’

‘Wow!’

‘Exactly. She flew all this way to see me. She said she was missing me.’

‘And from the look on your face this morning, you’ve clearly missed her.’

‘Yes, I had. I was confused for a while. I knew I was missing something. Grieving over a lot of things, but I didn’t know exactly how much I missed Greta, not until last night.’ Lloyd beamed. ‘I thought I wanted Sophie back.’

‘I’ve wondered whether that was the case.’

‘I just wanted a fresh start, but Sophie won’t give me that.’

‘Or can’t,’ pointed out Tash.

‘Yes,’ conceded Lloyd. ‘But Greta can, and she wants to. It’s not that I’m swapping one woman for another.’ Lloyd broke off and looked apologetically at Tash. He wanted her to understand the nuance of emotion.

‘You’re just trying to be happy, Lloyd. Good for you. Nothing would ever be fixed if you stayed unhappy and regretful for ever.’

‘That’s what Greta said.’ Lloyd beamed again.

Tash realized that this was the first time she’d seen him throw out a genuine smile. It was so wide you could have driven a truck through it.

‘We had a “big talk”.’ Lloyd pencilled inverted commas into the air with his fingers, clearly embarrassed.

‘That is so great,’ smiled Tash. ‘I’m only sorry there won’t be a wedding for her to join.’

Lloyd’s beam vanished. ‘You can’t forgive him?’

‘I can’t bear him.’

Tash thanked the waiter that had brought her toast and fried breakfast, and immediately picked up her knife and folk. She started to cut a sausage, but then dropped the cutlery. She didn’t have it in her. You needed spirit to eat a hearty fried breakfast, and right now she was overwhelmed by just the toast and tiny pots of jam.

She hurt.

‘He’s so sorry. He really hasn’t been having an affair.’

‘Why didn’t he tell me about her, then?’ demanded Tash.

She knew she was being unfair. How would Lloyd know? She didn’t. Tash didn’t understand it. It seemed that, for the majority, being honest with those they loved most was the hardest thing to be.

‘Jayne’s gone. She left by train.’

‘I wish I’d thought of that,’ muttered Tash.

‘I talked to her last night. She’s really screwed up, but she did admit to me that they aren’t having an affair and that she’d wangled an invitation to the holiday just to split you up. She said that she’s been making a play for Rich and that he has resisted.’

‘Except for the snog and the grope, presumably,’ spat Tash.

Lloyd winced. Even he thought it was a shame that men couldn’t treat women better and that they were so frequently ruled by their third eye. ‘He is so sorry,’ Lloyd repeated.

‘Well, why isn’t he here now, telling me himself?’ challenged Tash. She hated herself for wanting this, but, quite simply, she did. She wanted to see Rich. She wished there was a way that he could satisfactorily explain his actions, but she knew there wasn’t.

‘He’s gone to see the Registrar and he talked to the chef and maître d’.’

‘He has?’ Tash was stunned that Rich had behaved with even an iota of responsibility.

‘He didn’t want you to have to face that. Jase and I tried to persuade him not to be hasty. Not to cancel everything. We hoped you’d change your mind, but he said there was no chance of that.’

‘He was right.’

‘Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure you can’t forgive him?’ asked Lloyd.

He was speaking as a man who was newly coated with hope. Greta loved him. Greta loved him despite his mistakes and misgivings, and that made the world pretty damn fine as far as he was concerned. He wanted everyone to wear the same armour. He was also speaking as a man who had flushed chances away. A man who had broken a heart and a home, and he knew that was an incredible waste.

Lloyd knew that hope, and love, and trust could ebb and flow. The path of love wasn’t a linear, progressive road. It was full of obstacles. Everyone encountered some bloody big boulders and deep, dark pitfalls. He thought Tash and Rich had what it took to scramble over and under, up and around, any impediments. He didn’t want to stand by and watch them waste their chances.

Tash sighed, ‘He’s ruined everything. From now on, the world would always be that little bit worse.’

‘I understand what you mean, but it doesn’t have to be that way.’

‘It does.’ Tash wanted to explain, ‘You know when you want a new top, say, something special to go with the skirt and boots and bag that you’ve already bought. And you search and search, and although you know exactly what you are looking for – you might have seen it in a magazine – you can’t find it. And then you do. You find the perfect top. And you try it on. And it fits. And you look a million dollars, better than you’ve ever looked before. Better than you imagined you could look. Well, Rich was my top.’

Tash grinned, sure she’d been lucid.

Understandably, Lloyd looked confused. He’d never hankered after a garment of clothing in his life. He bought the same shirts from M&S every year. Tash saw his confusion and wondered if she should have picked cars for her analogy. She rushed on, hoping she could make herself clear.

‘And you wear that top every day because it suits you so perfectly and your friends say that you look fabulous in it. They’re even a little bit envious. But then something gets spilt down your top. And you need to wash it, but you wash it on too hot a wash and it shrinks. Or when you iron it, it stretches in a funny way. You know what I’m saying, don’t you?’

Lloyd wasn’t sure he did.

‘It never looks quite as good again, it no longer suits you properly and every time you wear it all you can think about is how perfect it
used
to be. All the top is fit for then is the jumble bag.’ Finally, Lloyd got it.

‘No, Tash, you don’t put that top in the jumble. It becomes your old favourite. It’s worn in, not out.’ Lloyd paused. ‘I thought you loved him, Tash. I thought
you
knew about love.’

‘I do.’ Tash shook her head. ‘I don’t think he deserves me any more.’

‘Thank God, love has very little to do with deserving. Isn’t loving someone about loving them even when they don’t deserve it?’

Tash looked at Lloyd. He was full of hope and hesitancy. His eyes radiated determination, and there was no sign of the previously debilitating doubt.

‘Since when were you so wise?’ asked Tash.

‘It’s a very recent thing. I imagine it will only be temporary,’ smiled Lloyd. ‘More coffee?’

72. Fresh Tracks

Tash put on her brand-new red snowboarding jacket. Even if there wasn’t going to be a wedding, she could still wear her bridal outfit, that was an advantage to not having chosen a long, white, silk number. Not one she had foreseen, admittedly.

Tash needed to be in the mountains. She needed to board between the tall, alpine trees, bejewelled with fresh snow and morning sunshine. She needed to breathe in the clean air and dash across the powder bowls and easy wide flats. It was not a day for big cliff drops or tricks of any kind. She had had her fill of tricks. She wanted to be absorbed into the scene which on her arrival had appeared entirely make-believe. A world of marshmallow mountains, pretty twee chalets with chimneys and wooden shutters, and quaint picturesque scenes that looked as though they had been designed by children. She wanted to luxuriate in the abundance of space, to find horizons that oozed serenity, so that she could succumb to the magic. She wanted to be alone.

She would ignore all the other skiers and boarders. She would not notice the laughing gangs of friends. She would disregard the snail trails of school children learning to weave their way down the slopes. And she would certainly not pay any attention to the smiling couples who darted through the snow together, laughing and cheering and generally canoodling, as though they were trying to personally insult her.

Tash planned to put Rich and Jayne completely out of her mind. She would not dwell on every conversation that she had ever had with Jayne. What was the point in examining them for clues as to why Jayne wanted to trick and betray her so completely? Wasn’t it enough that Jayne was shagging her boyfriend? Did she have to pretend to be Tash’s friend, too, so that the betrayal was magnified? Tash tried not to think about the number of times when she had encouraged Rich to be nicer to Jayne. When she had told him to dance with her in the club and buy drinks for her in the bar. She felt an utter fool that she had, on at least two occasions, insisted that Rich sit next to Jayne at dinner so that they could get to know one another. To think she had been extolling Jayne’s virtues when all along Rich was indecently familiar with everything Tash could highlight, and more.

She did not plan to board to Pointe de Mossette, the place where they were supposed to have gotten married, and sit and look out upon the Portes du Soleil. It just sort of happened.

Tash sat in the snow and wondered what she had done to deserve this. She checked her watch. It was ten o’clock. If everything had gone to plan, she would have been Mrs Tyler by now. Tash knew what everyone back home would say. They’d tell her she’d had a lucky escape. That it was always better to find out about your partner’s philandering ways before making the ultimate commitment. It was far harder to be left like Sophie, after several years of marriage. She knew that people would sensibly comment that she was lucky that they had not planned a huge, lavish wedding with a hundred guests. If that had been the case, the humiliation (not to mention the cost) would have been compounded. Imagine, she would have been returning toasters right now. She could almost hear her old aunties whispering such rational words of consolation.

So why didn’t she feel lucky?

‘Hello.’

Tash knew that it was Rich without having to turn around. It wasn’t that she recognized his voice. His voice was disguised with an embarrassed cough and an unnaturally high pitch, brought about by nerves. She just knew it would be Rich. She sensed him. She’d known he would find her. Perhaps that’s why she had come to this point. After all, there were 650 kilometres of runs and 212 high-speed chairlifts in total in the five Portes. Les Portes du Soleil was one of the largest ski domains in the world. It was unlikely that they’d meet through coincidence. Tash had subconsciously given fate a nudge.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Rich. He was prepared to say the words a million times if they helped. It appeared they didn’t.

‘You said,’ replied Tash, clearly unmoved.

It didn’t stop him from saying them again. ‘I really am very sorry.’ He had never felt sorrier about anything in his life. The idea of Tash in pain was intolerable. The knowledge that he’d caused that pain was doubly so. ‘Can I sit down?’

‘Does it matter how I answer that question? You pretty much do as you please, don’t you, Richard?’

Rich sat down anyway. Tash stole a sly, sideways glance at him. He looked awful. He looked grey and drawn. It wasn’t possible that he’d lost weight since yesterday, but it seemed that all his muscles had melted from his body. He didn’t look like an Action Man; he looked frail and weak. This should have rendered him unattractive. Tash wondered why it didn’t.

‘I know I’ve fucked up.’

‘Yes.’

Rich paused. It was clear that Tash was not going to help him in any way. This already unfeasibly daunting task would require gladiator-type courage if he was ever going to complete it, but complete it he must. He knew that the general consensus had been that he and Tash had rushed into their engagement; it didn’t seem that way to him. Now that Rich had met Tash, he believed he’d been waiting all his life to meet her and that seemed a respectable length of time to him. He loved her. He’d messed up. He knew that. But he wasn’t going to give up, not on the best thing that had ever happened to him.

‘You were all, “Everyone makes mistakes” when Lloyd fucked up,’ said Rich. He was finding it hard to follow Tash’s logic.

‘Yes, and you were so condemning.’

‘Lloyd had an affair, I didn’t,’ Rich pleaded. He thought he was being hung by a kangaroo court. ‘I made a mistake. I know and I’m sorry. But I am part of the great unwashed, Tash. I made a mistake, everyone does. Can’t you imagine a day when you could forgive me? Not now, obviously, but some time in the future?’ Rich looked hopeful.

‘No, I can’t,’ deadpanned Tash. Tash wondered why it was easier to forgive someone you didn’t love. It didn’t make sense.

‘No one would consider this the luckiest start to a marriage,’ he said tentatively.

‘There isn’t going to be a marriage,’ stated Tash.

‘Tash, please give me a chance to explain. Jayne wasn’t a back-up plan.’

Just hearing him say her name made Tash recoil in anguish. She didn’t want to imagine him whispering to her in bed, calling out her name as he came. Over and over again for more than a decade!

‘She was a grubby secret,’ said Rich.

‘Oh, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to be described in such terms.’

‘Probably not. But right now I don’t care. It was just sex to me. I thought it was the same for Jayne.’

‘You’ve hurt her, too. You know that, don’t you? She’s lost the plot because no one in their right mind would do the things she’s done. She’s clearly besotted by you.’

‘I think she has become obsessed with a notion of me,’ admitted Rich.

‘Well, you must have encouraged that.’

‘I didn’t.’

Tash wondered if this was true. She didn’t want to think that Rich was so dishonourable as to have led a girl on just for sex. She didn’t want to think he was dishonourable or desperate, come to that. But was it possible that Jayne had developed such a strong attachment and Rich had remained entirely aloof?

‘It was a crush. She didn’t know me. It wasn’t love. It was akin to what you felt for Prince Andrew when you were thirteen. I remember you telling me that you used to kiss his photo every night and that you persuaded your mum to travel all the way to London, to go to the Cenotaph one Remembrance Sunday, because you thought he might see you from his balcony and ask you to marry him.’

Tash allowed herself a small grin at the memory and the fact that she’d shared such an embarrassing confession with Rich. ‘I was thirteen,’ she pointed out.

‘Yes, but Jayne never grew out of her crush on me. Honestly, I was as oblivious as Prince Andrew was to you.’

‘Prince Andrew Albert Christian Edward wasn’t knobbing me,’ pointed out Tash.

Rich laughed, ‘You still remember his full name.’

‘I was very serious about him,’ said Tash. Half of her wished Rich couldn’t always make her smile. The other half was eternally grateful that he could.

‘I’m very serious about you,’ said Rich sensing, or at least hoping, that Tash might be thawing. ‘Deadly serious.’

Rich reached out to take hold of Tash’s hand. The action was comically clumsy because they were both wearing padded gloves. Yet, his touch tingled. His nearness seemed natural to her, despite her anger and hurt.

‘Tash, I should have told you about Jayne. I see that now. Then she wouldn’t have been able to cause all this confusion. I’m sorry I’ve made this mess, but is it possible that we could get through it?’

Rich was banking on Tash’s optimism. Was it an unlimited supply? Or had the events of the past week depleted her supplies?

‘I feel stupid for being so honest with you when you had secrets.’ Tash admitted the grimy truth about painful love affairs. The most intense pain is often the one you cause yourself.

‘No, I was the stupid one,’ insisted Rich.

‘And I feel stupid because despite the no secrets, no lies, just 100 per cent respect and honesty rule it wasn’t just you who fucked up.’

‘It wasn’t?’ Rich was amazed and more than a little bit relieved.

‘I thought I was immune to the petty and ugly aspects of love. But I’m not. I was still infected by jealousy. I am burning with jealousy.’

‘You have nothing to be jealous of.’

‘It seems that rationale has little to do with this.’

‘Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe love is too magnificent to be controlled by a rationale or even a rule, however well intentioned that rule is. Maybe love is about the messy bits too. Jealousy might be part of love. It might be an essential part.’

‘Is this the bit when you tell me that lying is an essential part of love, too?’ asked Tash impatiently.

‘No. Lying has nothing to do with love. I am sorry, Tash.’ But he was thrilled to hear she was jealous. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it? It showed she cared. ‘It’s not possible to be in love one moment and then not the next,’ argued Rich. ‘And I know you were in love with me. I felt it, Tash.’

Tash agreed with him. It was not possible to switch off love, like credit. Yet it seemed her fortunes could still change in an instant like Ted and Kate’s financial status. Tash looked at Rich and was at once furious and in love with him. As far as she was concerned, he was the most stupendous man on earth to have inspired such love in her and the most stupid man on earth to have thrown it away. She had never felt such an enormous sense of loss, waste and grief.

‘I just don’t think I know you any more,’ Tash sighed. ‘Being with you would be too much of a risk.’ She wished she didn’t believe it to be so.

‘If I could, I’d sit here until the sun goes down, and overnight, all tomorrow and the next day, and tell you everything there is to know about me. Everything from the colour of my exercise books in junior school right through to my PIN number. But it’s not possible. There’d always be something I’d forgotten to tell you.’

Tash shot Rich a look of disgust and distrust.

‘Not anything else as big as Jayne, honestly,’ he rushed to clarify. ‘What I’m saying is that marriage is a
risk
. The couples that are in for trouble are the couples that don’t know that. Even if we knew absolutely everything about one another now, there would still be discovery. In the future I might do something you don’t like, or you might do something to offend me. There are no guarantees. But maybe, just maybe, we’d be OK. And you’d like the things you discovered about me. Maybe the discovery is the magical bit. The bit it’s all about. I think we’d have a pretty good chance, Tash. I like everything I know about you. I love it all. Even the fact that you cut your toenails over the loo. And frankly, if anyone else ever had done such a thing in front of me, I’d have thought it disgusting.’

Tash wanted to laugh. But could she? Should she?

‘I love you, Tash. And if you’d just let me, I’ll do my best to be as good a husband as I possibly can be. And I honestly don’t think that would be a bad best. I know I broke our rule about no secrets, no lies, just 100 per cent respect and honesty. And I realize that 95 per cent is not good enough for you. But I have learnt by my mistake. Tash, please, will you marry me?’

Rich realized that he’d come to the end of what he wanted to say. It had been a long speech. Had it had any impact? When he’d chosen the words and practised saying them last night, he’d had no idea what Tash’s reaction would be. He didn’t know if she would interrupt him with counter arguments or if she would just board off into the distance and out of his life. He’d hoped that she would fling her arms around him and insist that she’d love him for ever, assure him that his mistake had not been insurmountable. But, true to form, Tash was surprising him. The one reaction he had not expected, or considered, was silence.

Tash looked out on to the beautiful vista in front of her. Was he making sense? Tash thought back at all she’d been through and all she’d seen in the past week. What had she learnt from it?

She had seen love in many manifestations. Ted and Kate’s love had allowed forgiveness, loyalty and hope. Their love did not allow room for blame, fickleness or despair, but did allow room for mistakes. Lloyd’s love for Greta had cost dearly, way more than he’d expected to pay. But could he ever put a value on the happiness he’d felt last night when he opened the door and Greta had fallen into his arms and vowed to stay in his life? Mia and Jason’s fear of the clout of their love had sent both of them chasing around the globe, in separate directions. They’d plunged themselves into lives of lonely, brief encounters. But even they, with their disproportionate amount of stubbornness, cynicism and pride, had eventually recognized that they were a team and that love isn’t something to be afraid of.

It’s something to be embraced.

Love allowed forgiveness, comfort, trust, compassion and new starts. Love was not a one-strike-and-you-are-out game. Like anything in life worth having, love demanded effort. Being in love – genuinely loving someone – meant you had to be brave and gracious, and well intentioned. Rich
was
talking sense. Tash took a deep breath and a chance.