Authors: Clare Lydon
“What the fuck…” Geri said.
TJ and Geri moved to the side of the drive to let the car past, and Geri saw it was from a company called Abbeydale Cars.
The driver gave them a crooked smile as he overtook them.
Geri ran to catch him up, her knuckles banging on his window as he pulled up outside the front door. The driver rolled down his window and Geri did a double-take – she hadn’t seen anybody do that for quite some time. Rolling down a window rather than pressing a button. How quaint.
“Alright mate – can I help?” Geri’s curiosity was out of the bag. Was this a cab for Tash? That would be a serious over-reaction.
“Taxi for Abby?” the young man said. He had a crew cut and was wearing a Lonsdale nylon zip-up top which wasn’t quite as thick as his accent.
Before Geri had a chance to respond the front door of the house opened. Abby stood in the doorway, suitcase in hand.
Abby clocked Geri and TJ and stopped in her tracks. She’d clearly been hoping to make a quick, painless exit.
“You’re
going
?” Geri said, her voice rising.
Abby nodded and walked briskly to the cab, opening the door, leaning in and throwing her case onto the back seat. She went to get in, then stopped and hung on to the roof of the cab with one hand.
“I think it’s best all round,” she said to Geri. “Kat’s passed out on the bed and I’ve had enough for one weekend. Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Look, I said I was sorry about the phone,” Geri said. Her humour was misplaced: Abby just stared at her. “Just like that – without saying goodbye?”
Abby straightened up, looked taller somehow. “I’m putting me first for once this weekend.” Her words hit the air with unexpected force. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll miss me much – I was only ever a sideshow in your gang. Now you can all get back to being your gang and I get to go home and wake up in my own bed without having to deal with one of Kat’s hangovers
again
.”
Her last word was long, drawn out, exaggerated.
Geri got the point as Abby went to get in the cab again, then paused.
“One other thing – take care of Kat because she’s a mess. Get her to take her meds, get her to go to therapy, get her to talk about her feelings because nothing will ever change until she does.”
“Are you sure going tonight is a good idea? Can’t you stay till morning and tell her all of this?” Geri walked around the car to stand next to Abby.
Abby shook her head. “I’ve tried. Kat has to stand on her own two feet for once.”
Geri gave Abby a sad smile and moved to hug her.
Abby who held up a hand in response. “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I have to go.” She paused. “Might see you around,” she said as an afterthought.
Geri nodded slowly and gave her a tight-lipped smile. She desperately wanted to save the situation for Kat, but when she tried to conjure up the right words to say, her mind drew a complete blank. Perhaps there was simply nothing more to say.
Abby got into the cab and slammed the door.
Geri watched the car speed away down the drive, kicking up a cloud of dust as it did. TJ was beside her now and they both watched the red lights get smaller until they were out the drive and gone.
TJ walked over to the ajar front door and beckoned Geri towards her.
“All the way back to London – that’ll be some cab fare.” Geri rubbed TJ’s arm as she stepped past her and into the house.
TJ shrugged. “She clearly thinks it’s worth it.”
“I wouldn’t want to be in Kat’s shoes tomorrow – hungover, on a comedown, now single.” Geri rubbed her face with both her palms, then shook her head. Tonight had been some night and it wasn’t even over yet.
***
The garden wasn’t getting any warmer when Tash looked at her watch again. 1.18am. They’d been sitting silently side by side for a few minutes with just the distant murmur of the sea and the rustle of the surrounding shrubbery for company. The only other sound to pierce the silence was a distant dog, barking incessantly.
“Sweetheart, can we talk about this inside? I need the loo and my fingers are going numb,” Laura said.
Tash sighed and turned, placing both feet gingerly on the floor. She’d been sitting in one position for a while now and a pain shot up her right leg as it connected with the floor, while her left leg was numb with pins and needles. Tash stamped her feet to try to get the blood flowing once more.
“You can’t even be bothered to sit out here with me for half an hour, can you?”
“You know I’m no good with the cold – and it’s fucking freezing.” Laura shivered again as if to prove her point.
Tash rolled her eyes. “I just… I can’t get past it right now,” she said. “You slept with Kat. Didn’t you think this might be information you should let me know, at least give me a heads-up before coming to your next reunion where it’s
bound
to come up.” Tash shook her head from side to side. “Are you so dumb you didn’t think it would? Frankly, I’m amazed it took so long…”
Laura shifted her gaze away guiltily.
Tash’s mouth formed an ‘O’. “It’s come up already, hasn’t it?”
Laura’s silence and downcast eyes gave Tash the answer. She threw up her arms in exasperation and stood up, forgetting the pins and needles and hopped around in pain as the blood struggled back into her legs.
“When?” Tash asked, still standing on her better leg, stamping the other one on the ground as if she was trying to kill a troublesome ant. “When did you already talk about this? Was it a big group pow-wow to laugh about old times and make sure I wasn’t in on the joke?” Tash paused. “I can’t actually fucking believe this.”
Tash walked away from Laura down the grass that was now slick with dew, turning, turning back, not quite sure where to walk or what to think. Getting together with Laura, she thought she’d left this sort of caper behind. Men played games and didn’t tell you things, deceived you. Women like Kat played games. But not Laura.
***
Laura stood up, seeing the situation needed controlling before it gushed all over their current lives like an oil spill. She could have cheerfully strangled Darren. Laura walked towards Tash and then stopped.
Tash was standing in combat mode, weight forward on one leg, hands on hips and ready to strike.
Laura went first before she had the chance. “Babe – you know that’s not the case. Vic brought it up this morning when we were chatting, asking if I’d told you. But I hadn’t and I didn’t think it was necessary and frankly, I’m
embarrassed
by it. It was a long time ago and it was
Kat
– and I know what you think of her.”
Tash didn’t move, her stare still fixed horribly on Laura.
Laura continued. “Ten years ago I was a hot mess, not in a good place. We all met up, we got drunk and Kat and I ended up in bed. We both woke up knowing instantly it was a mistake and that was it – one night only. We put it behind us and got on with our lives. I wish I could change it but I can’t. We all sleep with people we wish we hadn’t in our lives, don’t we?”
Laura paused, asking Tash to consider the question.
“Babe, this was five years before we met, a drunken mistake. And I know I should have told you but the truth is I didn’t want you to know. Back then, I was lost. And now… now I’m not. Now I have you.”
Laura stood back and let her words sink in, hoping she’d said and done enough. The air reverberated around them with aftershocks and she could feel Tash’s eyes on her. Could she feel her eyes softening, the warmer wrinkles falling back and replacing the scowl lines? Laura hoped so because frankly, she’d used all her best lines.
Should she risk walking closer?
It couldn’t hurt the situation.
Laura began to close the gap, but as she did, her foot hit something. There was pressure, a whirring sound and then something wooden coming towards her. She went to scream, but before she could manage it a wooden handle smacked her straight in the face and she went down with a sickening thud.
Laura clutched her face, her mouth open but no sound coming out. Her face was pulsing and when she poked out her tongue she could taste blood. Attacked by a rake. Yep, this was exactly how her night had been going so far.
Then Tash was kneeling over her: Laura smelt her, could feel Tash’s breath on her face.
“Oh my God – you okay?” Tash put her hands to Laura’s face, gently lifting Laura’s fingers. The rake had cut her – she was going to have a black eye in the morning. There was also blood trickling out of her nose. Tash got up and went to retrieve some tissues from her handbag, stuffing one up Laura’s nose.
“Ow!” Laura shrunk at the contact. Her head was now pounding too. “Is my nose broken?”
“I dunno, but just hold that there to stop the bleeding,” Tash said. “I don’t think so, but you really banged your head when you went down.”
Laura was shaking and shivering. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, the trees above her were spinning, the house lights now strobing in her eye line.
Tash sat down on the ground beside her and started to laugh. “I have to hand it to you – if you wanted to change the dynamic, you succeeded spectacularly.” Tash rubbed Laura’s arm and smiled down at her. “I’ve gone from wanting to kill you for being so bloody stupid, to wanting you to win your fight with a rake.” She peered closer at Laura’s face. “Although, by the look of it, I think the rake won.”
Laura smiled up at Tash, then winced in pain. “I’m glad you were on my side,” she mumbled.
Tash looked deep into her eyes and raised Laura’s left hand to her lips. “Always,” she said. “But shall we get you inside to assess the damage?”
Inside
Back in the lounge, wine was still sloshing in glasses, condensation still running down ice-cold bottles of beer. Crisps in wooden bowls, nuts being cracked, socked feet stretched out, laughter peeling around the room. On the TV, somebody had found VH1 and they were screening an 80s music night – right now, Mister Mister were singing about Broken Wings.
The tension of earlier had dispersed in the air, settled onto the sofa, popped on the carpet, been pierced by the light fittings. In its place was an easy joviality between the six contributors, born of familiarity and being on holiday. Only TJ didn’t meet the criteria, but it wasn’t lost on anybody how her stretched-out body seemed to blend into the group.
Right now they had an air of inclusivity, of privilege, as if they knew something you didn’t.
Abby’s departure had been discussed and forgotten about within 15 minutes. Nobody was missing her – or Kat, come to that.
Tash and Laura had been briefly brought up, but after a while their spat seemed to put a downer on the evening, so they too were escorted off-stage, their drama part of a different script.
Right at this moment the group wanted to star in a rom-com, something light and airy, nothing too taxing on the brain. The air with thick with talk of parties, nights out with the rich and famous, Champagne and fun. Tonight’s unspoken remit was to not dwell on what was wrong in their world, but rather to celebrate what was right. They were sticking to their brief perfectly, skilfully skirting the less desirable corners of their lives. Tonight, time meant nothing and they were guarding their bubble fiercely.
“Did we tell you about that party we went to recently where George Michael was meant to turn up?” Darren swirled his vodka and coke so the cubes clinked pleasingly against the sides.
TJ’s eyes widened. “You were at a party with George Michael? No way!”
Geri laughed and patted her shoulder from above. “Listen carefully – he said where George Michael was meant to turn up, not where he actually
did
turn up.”
Geri had heard this story before but she knew the drill. Stu and Darren worked in PR and their world was made up of smoke and mirrors, of impressing others. The mere mention of a celebrity placed them at a party with them, whether or not the star showed up or not.
Geri knew that when TJ repeated this story, George Michael would probably have been there. And then three friends down the line, he’d probably have brought his guitar and given them a rendition of Careless Whisper on the spot.
Darren, ever the faithful PR, kept up the pretence. “He turned up later on but we’d already left – you know what these pop stars are like.” Darren rolled his eyes. “But there were plenty of other famous faces, weren’t there?”
Stu nodded loyally.
Darren leant forward. “And of course it was at a club in Mayfair and when we came out around 3am, they were turning Prince Harry’s mate away!”
“Amazing!” said TJ, clearly new to this particular sideshow.
“It totally was!” Darren beamed. “I mean, we were almost tempted to go back in, but you know, 3am and we had to work the next day, so duty called.”
TJ nodded. “Sounds incredible. We never get anyone famous around here.” She took a swig of her beer and readjusted herself on the floor at the edge of one of the sofas. She’d shaken her head when Geri had patted the sofa cushion next to her, preferring to stretch out on the floor and lean against Geri’s legs.
Geri didn’t mind – she liked the warmth and the instant familiarity. TJ had clearly been a cat in a former life.
“Well, we get precisely no celebs round our way, either. Somehow that far east in London isn’t a draw – no idea why,” said Stevie. She was sitting next to Vic on the opposite sofa to Geri and Darren, legs touching.
“You’d think they’d be flocking to Limehouse, wouldn’t you? Lovely basin.” Stu smirked.
“We’ll invite you next time we have a celeb party and then you’ll have a story to tell, too,” Darren said.
“Yes please!” Stevie grinned and gathered her feet up under her. “And can it be someone who’d impress my class, please? And I need photos for Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat…”
“Snapwhat?” Geri said.
“Snapchat.” Darren rolled his eyes. “C’mon Geri, keep up with the kids. I hope you’re not the youth liaison officer at your depot.”
Geri smacked Darren on the leg and he yelped in pain.
“You know damn well I’m not the youth officer – and it’s not a depot, Darren, we’re people, not fucking lorries.” Geri gave him a look that said ‘I’m trying to impress someone here’.