Tales From a Hen Weekend (37 page)

I’m staring at him in amazement. He’s certainly found his tongue.

‘You needn’t worry about me,’ I tell him firmly. ‘As you say, I’ve just finished with one man – or rather, he’s finished with
me
– and I can’t even get my head around that yet, never mind thinking about seeing anyone else. I’ve got no interest in your cousin, other than hoping for a lift back to Cork later on.’

‘Sure your words are coming right at me, Katie,’ he says, looking up at me and smiling again. ‘But can I tell you: the look in your eyes when Harry’s around is saying a different thing altogether.’

I’m laughing at this as we turn the corner and walk back up the hill to Jude’s place. I suppose it’s nice of him to tell me all this and do his gentlemanly thing to try and warn me off his cousin. But for God’s sake – I’m not his innocent little sister. I’m thirty-one and probably know a lot more about the world than he thinks I do, and if I’m not old enough by now to know how dangerous a good-looking, charming bloke like Harry can be – well, let’s face it. I never will be.

Lisa’s waiting for us when we come through Arrivals at Stansted. I didn’t know she was coming.

‘I’ve been worried out of my life about you,’ she says, grabbing my bag and holding onto me as if I’m about to fall over. ‘Hello Emily. How are
you
?’ she adds.

There’s heavy emphasis on the
you
, accompanied by a shake of the head in my direction that implies I’ve single-handedly caused more than enough trouble to last everyone a lifetime. Well, I’m so sorry.

‘How did you know?’ I ask her.

‘I sent Lisa a text,’ says Emily quickly. ‘I thought it’d be… easier for you… if you didn’t have to come home and start telling everyone.’

‘So now the whole of Essex knows I’ve been dumped. I suppose it’ll be on Essex Radio in the morning.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ says Lisa briskly, leading us out to the car park. ‘Only the family. And Karen and Suze – I thought you’d want them to know. Oh, and Helen, of course, and Greg. I wasn’t sure whether you’d be back at work tomorrow, or…’

Or what? Sit at home on my own, crying? Tempting though it sounds, I still need to earn a living. Even more so now, presuming Matt will want to come out of the mortgage. I don’t suppose
Claire
would be too thrilled at the prospect of him supporting me in the style I’m accustomed to, for the rest of my life. Just the thought of sorting out the finances depresses me.

‘Don’t worry.’ Lisa links her free arm through mine and holds my hand. ‘It’ll be hard for a while, baby, but we’re all going to help you through this. It’s for the best.’

‘How do you work that out?’

‘Things weren’t right between you. If they were, you wouldn’t have cancelled the wedding. You know that really, don’t you?’

‘Do I? I’m not sure what I know. I feel completely numb at the moment, to be honest.’

‘That’s only natural. It must have been such a shock. Over the phone! The bastard!’ she says viciously, letting go of my hand to unlock her car and toss my bag into the boot. ‘You’ll get over him, Katie, I promise you.’

‘Just don’t tell me there are plenty more fish in the sea. OK? I’m
finished
with men. All of them.’

‘Even Harry?’ puts in Emily, giving me a puzzled smile.

‘Especially Harry.’

Harry and Conor had hung around at Jude’s until it was time for us to head back to Dublin. Conor was sitting on the sofa with Fergus on his lap, stroking him absent-mindedly and sneaking glances at Jude as she hobbled from room to room on her crutches, trying to tidy up before her mum arrived.

‘Do you like cats, Conor?’ she asked him shyly, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

‘Yes, I do so, and I’ve got a little fellow at home just like this one. He’s Burmese too, a Red. We call him Rudy. Do you find this one yowls like all the demons out of hell when he wants his dinner?’

‘Absolutely! Jesus, you’ve never heard such a din – I thought it was just meself that was starving the poor little devil. And when there’s a bird outside the window – the noise out of him could wake the dead in their graves!’

Jude and Conor had obviously found common ground in their own private Burmese Cat Appreciation Society. She actually appeared to be relaxing. I think she’d even forgotten she hadn’t got her make-up on.

‘So!’ said Harry eventually, when we’d packed our bags and were looking at our watches. ‘Am I going to drive you back to Dublin again?’

‘Absolutely not!’ said Emily, and for once I agreed:

‘Don’t be ridiculous – that’s completely out of the question.’ I smiled at him. ‘We wouldn’t say no to a lift back to Cork, though – Jude says it’s easy enough to get the train to Dublin from there.’

We were all quiet in the car. Saying goodbye to Jude was difficult: both of us trying not to cry, clinging onto each other as if our changed circumstances – her broken ankle, my broken heart; me having a failed relationship instead of a wedding, her having a cat instead of a boyfriend – had tilted the whole axis of our friendship and thrown us closer together than ever.

‘You’ll see her again very soon,’ Emily soothed me as I sniffed into a tissue after we’d driven away.

We’d sat together in the back of Harry’s car. I wanted Emily next to me to comfort me, not Harry next to me to confuse me with his smiles.

‘I know. I’m just being silly and emotional.’

‘Ssh. Of course you are. It’s only natural.’

Harry, wisely, remained silent until we pulled up outside Cork station.

‘Have a safe journey,’ he said, leaning closer to me as he handed me my bag out of the boot.

He aimed a kiss at my cheek but I shifted slightly just in time, so that his lips merely brushed my ear. It was still enough to make me shiver.

‘Thanks,’ I said.

I tried to avoid looking at him; but he touched my face and turned me gently back towards him.

‘Katie – I know things are difficult for you at the moment…’

I nodded. Difficult to speak with him still touching my face.

‘But I’d like to stay in touch. If you ever need a friend… maybe we could meet up in London some time for a drink?’

‘No,’ I said, mustering all the strength I could find and remembering Conor’s warning. What was the point? How was it going to make me feel any better to have a quick fling with someone who just wanted another notch on his bedpost? I sure as hell wasn’t ready to face another rejection for a while yet. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

He let go of me and his hands dropped to his sides.

‘But thanks for everything,’ I added quickly, feeling a sudden and unreasonable pang at the look on his face. ‘The lifts… and – the other night – and everything. You’ve been really… kind.’

He nodded as if this were little more than an insult. As he turned to say goodbye to Emily, I grabbed the handle of my holdall and wheeled it down towards the station. I didn’t look back to see if he was still watching.

On the drive home from Stansted, Lisa fills me in with all the family news. It’s weird. I’ve been in Ireland for less than a week but I feel like the whole world has changed since I’ve been gone. It’s only been two days since Lisa and the others came home without us, but it’s like I haven’t seen them all for months.

‘I’ve told Richard,’ says Lisa quite calmly, changing gear as she pulls onto the motorway.

‘What? About… Andy?’ I had to think for a few seconds to remember his name. ‘God, Lisa! What did he say?’

‘He wasn’t too surprised. Upset, but not surprised. We’re probably going to split up.’

‘Probably?’

‘We’re trying to be civilised. Because of the kids. I didn’t want to do this to the kids – you know that. But I think, over the weekend, talking to all of you about it, it made me realise I couldn’t go on forever the way I was. I’ve had enough of lies and secrets. Pretending we had the perfect marriage when we both knew it was crap. Now it’s out in the open, we can decide what to do. I think Richard needs to face up to the fact he didn’t ever love me. Not really. He just wanted a wife.’

Poor old Rick the Prick. Now he won’t even have one, by the looks of things.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask her gently.

‘Me? Yeah. A bit shaky, I suppose. Funny, isn’t it? I should be over the moon – I’ll be free to see Andy as much as I want, move in with him, whatever…’

‘But…?’ I prompt her, but she just shakes her head and shrugs slightly.

‘I think hanging onto the status quo is always an attractive option,’ she says eventually, quite lightly.

I think she’s right. And we’re not talking about rock music, either.

Matt’s not at home. I’m so relieved, I almost feel faint. The thought of seeing him, of trying to talk to him without both of us either losing our tempers or becoming hysterical, had been making me feel quite physically sick as we got nearer to home. I’ve made Emily and Lisa come into the flat with me for moral support.

‘He’s left a note in the kitchen,’ says Lisa, who’s gone straight in there to put the kettle on.

I go to pick it up but my hand’s shaking and I can’t read a word of it. What’s the matter with my eyesight?

‘Don’t cry,’ says Lisa, putting her arms round me.

Oh! I’m crying. That’s OK then. I thought I’d been struck blind. I wipe my eyes roughly with the back of my hand and stare again at the couple of lines he’s scrawled on the back of my shopping list. Two lines to end our life together.

See you.

Fucking
see you
?

Not –
Sorry
for seeing another girl, dumping you over the phone, treating you like shit, ruining your life
?

Not even –
Hope
you had a good time in Ireland; sorry I’m not here to see the photos
?

Or even –
Enjoy the rest of your life, be happy, hope you meet someone nicer?

After nearly four years together, being madly in love, spending every spare minute of our lives together, nearly getting married! After I planned to have a baby with him! After all that, it comes down to two lines and a
See you
? Well, fuck him!

Emily’s watching me anxiously. Lisa’s still got her arms around me, soothing me, trying to read the note over my shoulder.

‘Are you OK?’ says Emily.

‘OK?’ I retort, and my voice is shaking with anger. How healthy this anger feels! How deliciously it fires my veins. I can feel my muscles tightening, my back straightening, my jaw setting and every fibre of my body prickling with positive, furious new life. ‘Yes, I’m OK. I’m more than OK. I’m going to be fine. I’m going to be absolutely fucking
perfect
without Matthew Davenport in my life, I’ll make absolutely bloody
sure
of it!’

I attempt a triumphant smile but I think it comes out as a bit of a toothy grimace. I may look a little bit mad, but what the hell? These two girls know me. They probably know me better than anyone in the world. Who needs a man anyway? I’ve got my sister, and my friends, and my mum, and they all love me, and they’re never going to mess up my life, or hurt me, or say goodbye to me with a phone call and a crappy little note on the back of a shopping list.

Romance?

From now on, it can stay where it belongs.

In the fucking paperbacks.

It’s very strange being back at work. For a start, I can’t look Greg in the eye. He started off, when I walked in this morning, by making an excruciatingly embarrassing little speech to me about how sorry he was about my
unfortunate circumstances
, how he hoped that I’d soon be feeling better (as if I was suffering from flu or had just had a tooth extracted) and back to my
old self
, and that he hoped it went without saying that he would always be (this bit with a little self-conscious cough and much studying of his feet)
there for me
if I needed anything, any kind of
support
or
financial advice
or
indeed, anything else at all
. Having got that out of the way, and being very worried now about what he meant by
anything else at all
, I got my head down over my computer and busied myself writing up my reviews for the rest of the morning.

Now, at one o’clock, Helen’s trying to goad me into agreeing to a pub lunch.

‘Well, I don’t know if I should, really,’ I say, cagily. ‘There’s a lot of work to catch up on.’

‘Katie, please,’ interrupts Greg, looking up at me over his glasses, ‘Go out to lunch with Helen. Take all the time you need. We can catch up with the work tomorrow. You need a break.’

‘Thanks,’ I respond, grabbing my handbag and making a dash for the door.

‘It’s very unnerving,’ I complain, perching on a bar stool while we wait to be served. ‘He’s treating me like an invalid. Like he doesn’t want to be responsible if I suddenly collapse, or throw a fit, or swallow a bottleful of paracetamol….’ I stop, remembering Jude. ‘Shit, that wasn’t funny.’

‘He can’t help it, Katie,’ says Helen moodily. ‘I keep telling you. He’s crazy about you.’

‘That’s rubbish. He isn’t. He’s probably just got a crush on me. It’s making me feel uncomfortable now you’ve told me about it. Don’t worry, Helen – I meant what I said: I’m going to look around for another job. But I’ll just have to get things sorted out about the mortgage and the bills first, with Shit-face.’

‘It’s OK. You don’t have to. That’s why I wanted to talk to you today. I’ve booked my flight.’

‘Your flight?’ I frown, trying to remember. So much has happened, it’s addled my memory. ‘Are you going on holiday?’

‘I told you. I’m going to Australia.’

‘Helen! No!’ This is madness. ‘You can’t! You don’t go flying off to the other side of the world just because…’