by Alison May
Dominic accepted the offer of a beer and sipped. It was odd talking to Alex tonight. A young man setting out on the career that Dominic was tiring of. ‘Actually I’ve got something to tell everyone this evening.’
Helen looked curious. ‘What?’
It was tempting to tell them in ones and twos, but he was using tonight as his dress rehearsal. If he could get through the big announcement once, then he might have a fighting chance of repeating the feat with his parents. He shook his head. ‘When Emily gets here.’
‘Right.’ Helen nodded. ‘I see.’ She looked around the room for a second. ‘I’d best get back and finish in the kitchen.’
Dominic was left alone, in the living room, with this new Alex person. What to talk about? He nodded, in what he hoped was a friendly, relaxed sort of way. Alex responded with a non-committal sort of noise, accompanied by a shoulder shrug. Dominic was on the verge of raising his eyebrows and nodding again, more vigorously, possibly adding a vague, ‘So ...’ sort of noise, when the doorbell rang. Oh thank the Lord.
‘I’ll get it.’ Alex jumped out of his seat as if it had been wired to the mains. Dominic smiled to himself. Well, at least it wasn’t just him who was feeling awkward. Presumably it would be Emily at the door. He glanced at his watch. It looked like her driving lesson had finished early. He hoped she hadn’t broken another instructor.
Emily
I ring the doorbell and wait, pulling my coat tight around me. It’s starting to snow, for the first time this winter. Eventually the door opens.
‘Oh my God! It took you long enough. It’s bloody freezing out here.’ I glance up and stop. The person answering Helen’s door isn’t Helen. I take an involuntary look down the street. No. I’m definitely at the right house. There is a man answering Helen’s door. I’ve been friends with Helen for nearly seven years. I don’t think I ever remember her so much as going on a date, let alone having a man who was familiar enough to be allowed over the threshold. ‘Who are you?’
He stands back to let me come in. ‘I’m Alex. I’m Helen’s sort-of-but-not-really cousin.’
‘You’re a boy.’
He nods. ‘I know.’
I don’t know why I’m surprised. Helen said her friend Alex was moving in. I’d assumed it was a girl Alex. Helen isn’t somebody I’d expect to be keeping a boy squirrelled away. I sneak a proper look at him as I take my coat off. Skinny, and dressed to accentuate it in a tight shirt and narrow jeans. He’s a bowtie and a pair of statement spectacles off being able to play Doctor Who.
‘So you’re the new Susie?’
‘I am.’ He looks at me as he answers. I’ve never seen eyes like these before. Dark brown, almost black. When I was little I watched Gone with the Wind at my childminder’s house, and I remember her saying that Rhett Butler had Bad boy eyes. I didn’t know what she meant; I do now. I realise that I’m staring. Then I realise that he’s staring back. I should say something, but no words come out of my mouth. I’m still staring. I have to look away. If I look away now, then this second in this hallway will just be a single moment that passed. And a single moment is nothing.
I push past him and into the living room. Dom’s already here. He has nice eyes – bright and blue and open. I try holding his gaze, and wait for the butterflies I must feel to come, but Helen bustles in from the kitchen, and he turns away. She’s wearing the feminist apron I bought her for Christmas last year. It says ‘Well-behaved women seldom make history’ on it, which Helen said she loved, although she’s probably the best behaved woman I know.
‘Did you meet Alex?’
I lean down to kiss Dom’s cheek before I answer. ‘You’re not shagging him are you?’
‘Ew.’ Her face scrunches up in disgust. ‘We’re practically related. He’s just the lodger.’
To be honest I wish she would shag someone. Her whole life is books and work. It can’t be enough.
‘Anyway, dinner is served.’
The three of us follow Helen into the kitchen and take our places around the table she’s managed to squeeze into the limited space. She dishes out pasta in a thick tomato sauce into bowls and passes them round.
‘That’s huge.’
Helen looks at my plate. ‘It’s a perfectly healthy amount.’
I shake my head. ‘It’s all carbs,’ I mutter, before I give up. Helen and I don’t see eye to eye about what constitutes healthy eating.
Dom sits beside me. ‘How was your driving lesson?’
I pout, but don’t answer.
‘What happened?’
‘I need a new instructor.’
I see Dom and Helen exchange a look. ‘How come?’
I shrug. ‘He just doesn’t want to teach me any more.’
Helen sucks the air over her teeth. ‘What happened?’
‘Nothing.’
I can feel them both looking at me. I know what they’ve assumed about the whole driving thing. They must think I’m so bad that instructors are scared to get in the car with me. I could try to explain, but what would I say? He won’t teach me any more because I’m too good. I don’t fancy my chances of getting anyone to believe that, and if they did, it would be two more people hassling me to take my test, and I’m not ready. I need more time.
‘I didn’t learn to drive til last year.’ Alex pipes up from the other side of the table. ‘I had two lessons when I was seventeen, and then I spent the rest of the money my mum gave me for driving on going to see The Killers.’
Dom laughs. ‘Maybe it’s time for you to give up, Em? I mean, if you want to.’
It would be easier. I’m definitely not ready to do it on my own yet. I shake my head. ‘I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it,’ I offer as brightly as I can.
Helen, thankfully, changes the subject. ‘Anyway, Dominic what was it you want to tell us?’
I look at her. The confusion must show on my face.
‘Apparently, Dominic has a big announcement, but he wouldn’t share until you got here.’
Something clenches in my stomach. We’ve been together a year, haven’t we? Courting for a year and then ... And then what? He can’t be going to pop the question here though. I force myself to breathe. She said ‘announcement’ not question. That means that if I was involved I’d already know. I turn towards my boyfriend. Calling him that, even in my head, feels wrong. There’s nothing boyish about Dom. He’s big, not fat, but tall and solid, and a tiny bit older than me. Nearly eleven years older. I’ve always preferred older men. They know how to look after you. ‘So?’
‘Right. Yes.’ He sounds nervous. ‘So it’s not really an announcement. Nothing’s finalised yet, but ...’ A phone rings. We all stop and do the obligatory ‘Is that mine?’ dance, even though most of us know full well that it’s not our ringtone. Dom delves in his pocket and holds up his mobile. ‘Sorry. Excuse me.’
He gets up and strides into the living room, pulling the door closed behind him.
‘Well that was anti-climactic,’ I joke.
Helen starts to clear the bowls and cutlery away, leaving me at the table with Alex. He picks up the bottle of red and fills his glass. I hold mine out so he can do the same. It would have been polite of him to do the lady’s glass first.
‘So what do you do for work?’
‘I’m a PhD student, but I’m covering some lectures this term.’
‘What courses?’
‘Samson’s modules.’
Professor Samson. Right. ‘Did you hear how he ...?’
‘Yep.’ That’s disappointing. It’s the most incredible piece of gossip that’s ever happened at my work, but because it’s so incredible it went round the whole university in about seventeen seconds. I hardly got to tell anyone.
Alex is blatantly looking me up and down. I catch his gaze and raise an eyebrow.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just ... well you and Helen. You don’t look like natural friends.’
‘What do you mean?’ I know exactly what he means but it’s fun to watch pe
ople try to express it sometimes.
‘Well, she’s all Germaine Greer and you’re more ...’ he pauses ‘... well sort of Malibu Barbie.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘In a nice way.’
‘Apologise this second.’
‘Why?’
‘Well that’s not even a good Barbie. I had a presidential candidate Barbie, and a pilot Barbie.’
He holds his hands up. ‘You know what I mean though. You’re all prettied up, and Helen, well the apron she was wearing before is probably genuinely the smartest thing she owns.’
I laugh. ‘I bought her that.’
‘I rest my case.’ He grins. Those eyes shift from brown to black and back to brown when he smiles. ‘So how come you’re mates?’
Helen wanders back over to the table. ‘Ah, the how we met story? Do you want to or shall I?’
I take a deep breath. ‘It was my first week working in the department.’
Helen butts in. ‘And my first week as a graduate student, and they did a joint induction meeting thing for new staff and graduates.’
‘It was meant to be for academic staff really, but there were only two of us in the admin office, and I don’t think they knew what else to do with me, so I got sent on it as well.’
Helen jumps in again. ‘And it was so boring.’
I nod. ‘Boring like you wouldn’t believe. There was all this stuff about thesis supervision, and periodical submissions and graduate seminars.’
Helen shakes her head. ‘That was fascinating, but then there was all this stuff about where to collect your photocopying and how to add credit to your print account. I was losing the will to live.’
‘Anyway, at the end they asked if there were any questions.’
I see Alex close his eyes. ‘She didn’t ask a question, did she?’
‘She did.’
‘Was it to do with why the department persisted in endorsing outmoded gender roles?’
I nod. ‘It was.’
Alex smiles. ‘And that inspired you to want to be her friend?’
I shake my head. ‘No way. My dad pulled me to one side, and said “She’s going to be trouble, that one,” and asked me to keep an eye on her.’
Helen laughs. ‘So we’re not really friends. Em’s undercover for the patriarchal elite.’
‘Only then you found out that the stuff about photocopying and print accounts was actually quite important, and decided that a friend who knew all that might be useful.’
‘Invaluable. Anyway, who wants to be friends with people like themselves? I’m like myself already. Difference is good.’
It’s true. It shouldn’t work, but difference is good. I encourage Helen to treat herself to nicer stuff than she’d ever choose for herself, and she looks after me. Underneath all the feminist rage, she’s a total mother-hen, is Helen.
She’s looking towards the door to the living room. ‘Do you think Dominic’s okay?’
He has been gone a while actually. ‘He’s probably fine. Did I tell you I tried to talk to my dad about Tania?’
Alex is looking blank. Helen jumps in. ‘Emily’s dad came home from a conference with a new fiancée in tow.’
‘It’s insane. She’s a cocktail waitress. They have nothing in common. Anyway, he wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t even talk about it.’ I tried three times last night and again this morning. He changed the subject every time.
Helen is still peering anxiously towards the living room door. ‘Are you sure Dominic’s okay?’
I’m about to get and go and check on him when the door opens. His face is pale, and he doesn’t make eye contact as he walks back to his chair and sits down.
I touch his arm. ‘Is everything all right?’
He looks at me for a second, and then at Helen, and then back down at his phone. ‘No. It’s not. My father died.’
Alex
Alex waited in the living room while Helen saw her guests to the door. Unsurprisingly, the evening had ground to a halt after Dominic’s news. So far as Alex could gather, the call had been from his mother. Dominic’s father had had a heart attack that morning, but she had decided it was best not to worry her son, until a second heart attack, massive and fatal, struck a few hours later. And that was that. Ignoring doctor’s orders and eating bacon and eggs at breakfast time; no more for this world by dinner. Alex shuddered. Life was fleeting.
Helen came back in and sat beside him on the sofa. She exhaled hard. ‘Well that was less fun than I intended.’
Alex smiled. ‘Was Dominic all right?’
‘I don’t know. I think he was in shock.’
Alex paused. He’d known Helen an awful long time, through the phase where their mothers would dress them up in matching outfits and make nauseating plans for how they’d end up together one day, through the phase where she was the older girl at secondary school that at least one of his mates fancied, and onto this new phase where she saved him from wrathful ex-housemates. He felt he’d got to the point where he could expect an honest answer to a question. ‘So you and Dominic?’
Helen’s face closed up slightly. ‘What about us?’
‘Well, what’s your deal?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
The look on her face disagreed, as had the look on her face most of the way through dinner. There was something going on there, and Alex liked knowing what was going on. ‘Come on. I’ve seen you at the beach in your pants. You can tell me.’
She shrugged. ‘There’s nothing to tell. Nothing’s going on.’
There was something she wasn’t telling. He thought his way around the edges of her denial. ‘So you’d like there to be something going on?’
She shook her head. ‘He’s with Emily.’
‘And if he wasn’t?’
‘But he is.’ Helen stood up. ‘So that’s the end of the story.’
She went into the kitchen and ran the hot water into the sink to wash up. Alex followed her. ‘But you like him?’
Helen stared at him. ‘You’re not going to let this drop, are you?’
He pulled himself up to sit on the last remaining bit of free worktop amongst the debris of Helen’s dinner preparations. ‘Nope. Tell me. You like him?’
‘Honestly?’
Alex nodded.
‘I more than like him. I’ve been in love with Dominic Collins since the first time I saw him.’ Helen didn’t stop moving dishes into the hot soapy water as she spoke. For a person telling heartfelt tales of unrequited love and passion, she was surprisingly matter of fact.
‘Wow.’
‘It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?’
Alex held up his finger and thumb squeezed close together. ‘Little bit.’
‘It’s how it is though. He was one of my third year lecturers, and from the moment he walked into the class I’ve been completely and utterly in love with him.’
Alex’s jaw dropped open. Third year? But that was ... ‘That’s nearly ten years.’
‘Yep.’
‘And you’ve never done anything about it?’
‘Once. Almost.’
Alex shook his head. He considered himself something of a world expert in the allied fields of flirtation and seduction. They were areas where ‘almost’ was synonymous with ‘No.’
Helen turned away from the washing up for a second and picked a tea towel from the radiator to throw at Alex. ‘Make yourself useful.’
‘I’ll dry if you tell me the whole story.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of the almost once time.’
She sighed. ‘It was nothing. It was a moment. He was my lecturer and I was talking to him after a lecture. There was nobody else around.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. For a second it seemed like he might be going to kiss me or something, but ... anyway, it was a long time ago.’
‘That’s it?’ Alex was incredulous. It barely even rated as a story to tell.
Helen nodded. ‘It was a moment though. You m
ust have had moments where it seemed like something could happen.’
Alex nodded. Of course he’d had moments. They usually immediately preceded conquests. What Helen was suffering from was a failure to convert her intangible moment into something real. ‘What about the ten years after that?’
‘It was never the right time.’
‘For a whole decade?’
Helen washed the last of the dishes in silence, and pulled out the plug. ‘Anyway, he’s with Emily now, and they’re very happy, so no point dwelling on the past.’
‘And you’re sure they’re happy? Dominic and Emily?’
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?’
Alex shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He just didn’t look like her type.’
‘Like I don’t look like her type of friend? People can surprise you.’ Helen dried her hands. ‘Why are you interested anyway?’
‘I’m not.’ So what if Presidential Candidate Barbie was cute? She was his landlady’s friend and a senior colleague’s girlfriend. He’d already lost one home over that sort of mistake. A repeat performance might give people the impression these things were somehow his own fault.
Emily
The faces are here again, spinning around and around me. Dad, and Dom, and Helen, and Mum. The faces whoosh around me and then one by one they disappear into the dark, until it’s me and Mummy and, like always, she’s just out of reach.
I open my eyes, and sit up in bed. I force the air into my lungs and tell myself that it’s only a dream. A dream can’t hurt me. I look at the clock. Quarter to six. I lie back down, flat on my back, eyes up to the ceiling. There’s another two hours before I need get up for work. I should close my eyes and go back to sleep, but I don’t. If I close my eyes the blackness will come back. Everyone will be beyond my reach, and I’ll be completely alone. If I was at Dom’s I’d wake him up. I’d lean across and whisper, ‘Dom, are you awake?’ and I’d keep asking a little bit louder and then a little bit louder, and a little bit louder, until he woke up. I’m not at Dom’s tonight. After he found out about his dad, he said he wanted to be on his own, which I respect, of course, even though, I don’t understand. Why would you ever want to be on your own?
