by Paige Toon
‘She’s fine! She said to give you her love.’
‘Aah, give her mine back.’
I’ve put her in the double – Matthew can have the single. Harry will no doubt go back to his bedsit in Burrell’s Field – if he doesn’t crash out on the sofa, that is.
‘Let me see your room,’ she says. We wander through. ‘I bet that gets some use,’ she jokes, nodding to the bed. I smirk at her and then go to close the wardrobe.
‘What’s that?’ she asks curiously, her eyes spying a flash of glinting greeny-gold in my wardrobe.
‘Oh, that’s my ball gown,’ I reply carelessly, pulling it out.
‘It’s beautiful!’ she cries with surprise. ‘Gosh, you’re organised this year.’
‘Oh, no,’ I brush her off. She misunderstood. ‘This is last year’s.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asks, perplexed.
I never told her about Lukas having a dress made for me. I’m not sure why – I think I might have been either slightly embarrassed, or worried that she might take offence.
I shrug, trying to play it down. ‘Lukas had it made for me.’
‘What?’ Her mouth falls open. ‘What was wrong with the dress we bought together?’
It appears I was right about the latter reason.
‘Nothing,’ I say quickly. ‘It was lovely. It’s just that . . . Well, he thought I could do . . .’ My voice trails off, but she finishes my sentence.
‘Better?’
I glance at the dress and run my fingers down the material. ‘Somebody else might have had the same one,’ I say.
‘Welcome to the world,’ she says sardonically. ‘Well, I’m sure you looked amazing.’
I close the wardrobe doors.
‘What the hell happened to your fingers?’ she asks with horror as she spies the plasters.
‘Cooking casualty,’ I explain. ‘Lukas wanted me to cook . . . Well, I wanted to, as well. But I gave up in the end.’
‘Who else is coming tonight?’ she asks, sitting down on the end of the bed and bouncing up and down.
‘A couple of Lukas’s friends: Harry and Matthew. It’s not exactly the girls’ weekend you might have hoped for . . .’
‘No, it’s fine!’ she exclaims, her shoulders slumping as she stops bouncing. ‘Any distraction will help.’
‘Can you tell me what happened?’ I ask.
‘Is four o’clock too early to start drinking?’ she bats back, getting to her feet. I can tell that she’s fighting back tears.
‘God, no. Just don’t let me forget to put dinner in the oven!’
Back in the kitchen, I pull a bottle of Veuve Clicquot out of the fridge.
‘Is that real champagne?’ she asks with widened eyes, peering at the label.
‘Yeah.’ I shrug. ‘Lukas buys it.’
‘Bloody hell. Handmade ball gowns . . . champagne . . . a thatched cottage all to himself . . . He’s not your average student, is he?’
I give her a wry look. ‘Not exactly.’ I lift up the bottle. ‘Want some?’
‘Go on, then. If you’re sure he won’t mind.’
‘No, he got it in for tonight.’ I peel off the foil at the top.
‘How are things going with him?’ she asks as she lifts herself up onto the countertop. She met him only briefly that time she came to stay with me last year to go shopping for ball gowns.
‘Excuse me,’ I say, and she ducks her head so I can open the cupboard behind her to get out a couple of champagne glasses. ‘Really well,’ I reply to her question.
‘I bet you stay over here all the time, don’t you?’ she says with a knowing look.
‘Oh, totally,’ I reply casually. ‘I moved the last of my stuff out of Jessie’s a few weeks ago.’
‘You moved out of Jessie’s?’
‘Yeah.’ I’m instantly uneasy at the look on her face. ‘His parents came back from the States,’ I explain.
‘So you’re living with Lukas.’ It’s more of a statement than a question.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re living with your boyfriend.’ She seems a bit dumbfounded.
‘Yes.’
‘Bloody hell, Alice!’
‘What?’ Now I’m feeling put out.
‘That was a bit fast, wasn’t it?’
I don’t say anything as I pour the champagne.
‘I don’t mean to have a go,’ she says hurriedly. ‘I just wasn’t expecting it.’
‘Why not?’ My lips are set in a straight line. ‘I don’t see what the big deal is.’
‘What did your dad say?’
‘I haven’t . . . He doesn’t . . .’
‘You haven’t told them?’ she gasps.
‘It’s not like that,’ I reply firmly. ‘It’s not that big a deal.’
‘It’s a huge responsibility.’
‘Jesus, Lizzy! When did you turn into my mother?’
She frowns at me and then looks away, hurt.
‘Sorry,’ I say, although I’m not really sure why I’m the one apologising.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she replies, not meeting my eyes. ‘I’m just a bit surprised, that’s all.’
‘I don’t know why,’ I snap. ‘It’s not like we’re getting married or anything.’
‘I should hope not!’
I hand her a glass.
‘Would you marry him?’ she asks with narrowed eyes.
‘I don’t know.’ I shrug.
‘Do you love him?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘More than you loved Joe?’
‘What sort of a question is that?’ I take a deep breath and exhale loudly.
This time she’s the one to apologise. ‘Sorry,’ she says, hopping down from the countertop. ‘I’m being a cow. I’ve had a shitty week and I’m taking it out on you.’
‘It’s okay.’ I indicate the door to the living room. She leads the way through. ‘So what happened with Callum?’
‘Oh . . .’ She slumps down onto one of the sofas and almost spills her drink. ‘Whoa!’
‘Sorry. You can get lost in those cushions.’
Suddenly she snorts with laughter and I can’t help but join in, relieved to have my friend back.
‘Cheers,’ she says between giggles. At least the tears have been kept at bay. ‘I don’t want to go into it too much, but he was being a bit of a shit and I’d had enough.’
‘A shit in what way?’ I ask.
‘I hardly got to see him – he was always out playing football at weekends – and the last straw was him telling me he wants to go to Ibiza this summer with his mates instead of going away again with me.’
‘That sucks,’ I empathise.
‘You don’t see much of Lukas, though, do you?’
‘Not during the day, but that’s the bonus about living together – I see him every night.’
‘Fair point. But he goes home to Germany all the time without you?’
‘Not all the time,’ I say dismissively. ‘And it’s not like he’s going away with his mates; he’s going home.’
‘ To see that girl.’
What the hell? ‘He doesn’t see Rosalinde!’ I exclaim. ‘He sees his parents! And his nephew and his brother and sister! Anyway, she’s engaged,’ I feel compelled to add.
‘Is she?’ she asks with interest.
‘Yes. She’s marrying some banker.’
‘Will you be invited to the wedding?’
‘I don’t know, Lizzy!’
‘I don’t mean to be annoying,’ she says suddenly. I’m feeling slightly less excited about having her here at the moment.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ I try to calm down. ‘Anyway, you were saying about Callum . . .’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m expecting too much.’
‘No, it does sound a bit crap about him wanting to go off on holiday with his mates.’
‘Yeah, but they all finish university this year and have been talking about having one last lads’ holiday be
fore they all have to grow up and get jobs.’
Is she talking herself into asking him back? I don’t know, but I’m staying well out of it.
I hear Lukas’s key turn in the lock and I get up to greet him.
‘Hello,’ I say warmly, giving him a kiss on his lips.
‘Champagne!’ he exclaims with a look at my glass.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ I ask with alarm.
‘No, no, of course not. It’s early, that’s all.’
‘Don’t worry – I’ve warned Lizzy not to let me forget to cook dinner.’
‘You only have to put it in the oven,’ he teases. I follow him through to the living room. ‘Hello.’ He waves at Lizzy.
‘Hi!’ she replies brightly.
‘How was your journey?’ he asks.
I go to the kitchen while they make small talk. I should probably get on with the salad.
Harry arrives before Matthew. ‘My beautiful Alice,’ he says when I answer the door. He brandishes a bottle of red wine in my face, then wraps his arms around me for a hug. I laugh into his shoulder as he squeezes me hard.
‘Would you get your filthy hands off my girlfriend,’ Lukas jokes as he relieves him of his bottle. They shake hands.
‘Come and meet my friend Lizzy,’ I say, taking him through and making the introductions.
‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ he says politely to her.
‘How did your revision go today?’ Lukas asks.
‘Frightful,’ he replies. ‘Symmetry and particle physics.’ Blah blah blah, something about mesons, baryons and quark structure. It’s like another language to me.
‘Have a glass of champagne?’ I interrupt.
‘I wouldn’t say no,’ he replies.
Matthew arrives soon afterwards. I see his taxi pull up outside the kitchen window and go to let him in. He hands me an exquisite bouquet of green and white flowers.
‘They’re beautiful.’ I kiss him on his cheek.
‘It’s been far too long,’ he says intently, his hand on my waist. I can’t help but think about my conversation with Lukas at the ball. ‘How are you?’
‘Great! You?’
‘Hello, there!’ Lukas appears in the hall. I back away into the living room.
Lizzy’s eyes widen when she sees Matthew. She tries to sit up straighter on the sofa when he shakes her hand, and then blushes furiously when he collapses down next to her. I smile to myself as I go into the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. Lukas follows me.
‘You okay?’ I ask him.
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ he replies frostily, staring at me for a long moment before going back through to the living room. I shiver inadvertently. For the first time since I met him, his eyes reminded me of his mother’s.
Matthew is telling Lizzy about his job when I re-emerge. ‘The Guardian,’ he answers her question about which newspaper he works for.
‘Cool!’ she enthuses.
‘I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use to describe it,’ he replies good-naturedly.
She giggles. ‘No, it’s not exactly the Daily Mirror, is it?’
‘The Daily Mirror is “cool”?’ Matthew asks her with a raised eyebrow.
She giggles again. ‘Okay, maybe not cool, but definitely fun.’
‘When will dinner be ready?’ Lukas asks me.
‘In about five minutes,’ I tell him. ‘We can sit at the table now, if you like.’
‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand,’ Lizzy says, her glass of champagne wobbling precariously as she tries to sit up.
‘That sofa has almost swallowed you whole!’ Harry laughs and takes the glass from her.
Matthew extricates himself from the cushions and then offers her his hands. She takes them and he pulls her to her feet. She blushes again.
‘Let me help you in the kitchen?’ she offers, mouthing, ‘Phwoar!’ as the boys go through to the dining room.
I laugh under my breath. ‘Thought you’d like him.’
‘Seriously, how hot?’ she exclaims when we’re out of earshot. ‘Does he have a girlfriend?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I reply. I’m sure Lukas would have revealed that piece of information, if nothing else.
‘This is delicious,’ Matthew enthuses later, a few mouthfuls into his lasagne.
‘I can’t take any credit,’ I reveal before anyone else does. ‘I got it from the farm shop at Coton.’
‘The fig and mozzarella salad was amazing too,’ Lizzy adds.
‘I only had to peel the figs,’ I reply modestly.
‘Well, you managed it triumphantly!’ Harry exclaims, raising his glass. We’ve moved onto red wine. ‘Here’s to old friends – and new,’ he adds with a pointed look at Lizzy.
We chink glasses. I notice my friend pursing her lips. She’s done this occasionally throughout dinner, usually when Harry speaks. I don’t think she gets him.
‘Don’t you like Harry?’ I ask her later when she comes through to the kitchen to help me prepare dessert: farm-shop meringue nests with cream whipped by moi and berries, also washed by yours truly.
She pulls a face. ‘It’s like they’re from another era. Matthew’s a toff too, but he’s a bit more normal.’
I pause for a moment as her comment sinks in. ‘Are you saying Lukas is from another era too?’
She backtracks. ‘He’s just a bit different, isn’t he? Quite proper. Not like Joe.’
The shooting pain is still there, but the alcohol has taken the edge off.
‘I can’t believe you’ve brought him up again.’
She looks mortified. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says quickly. ‘I don’t know what I’m saying. I’ve had too much to drink.’
‘You hardly know Lukas,’ I add bitterly. ‘And Harry is lovely,’ I say in his defence.
‘I’m sorry. He is. He’s very nice. And Lukas is too. I’m not really slagging him off.’
Actually, you are. But I let it lie.
‘I think Alice will make a terrible teacher!’ Harry exclaims when we walk back through with dessert.
‘Why?’ I reply, slightly affronted as I place a plate down in front of Lukas.
‘Those boys won’t be able to concentrate if you’re in the room.’
‘I’m going to be teaching six-year-olds, you idiot!’ I thump him on his back. ‘And I’ve had more than enough practice dealing with juveniles over the last two years.’
Matthew cracks up laughing.
‘What’s this?’ Lizzy regards this exchange with confusion.
‘I think I’m going to go into teaching,’ I explain, sitting back down.
‘Are you really?’ she asks with surprise. ‘In London?’
‘No, in Cambridge.’ I glance with pride at my boyfriend. ‘Lukas has got a job with the university.’
Lukas will be a research associate. Something to do with astrophysics and extragalactic astronomy observational projects. Or something.
Harry pats him on the back. ‘Well done, old chap.’
Old chap? Inadvertently my eyes go to Lizzy, but she manages to keep a straight face this time.
‘I’m disappointed with your friend,’ Lukas says later, when we’re climbing into bed.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I keep my voice down so she can’t overhear.
‘I found her to be quite uncouth.’
‘Uncouth? She’s not uncouth!’
‘Do you know, she actually rolled her eyes when Harry and I were conversing about Minkowski spacetime.’ I refrain from commenting. ‘And she was fawning all over Matthew,’ he adds. ‘It was embarrassing.’
‘Lukas!’ I hiss. ‘Give her a break. She’s just split up with her boyfr—’
‘Exactly!’ he interrupts loudly.
‘Shh!’
‘I would have thought she’d behave better,’ he continues. ‘She can’t be that heartbroken.’
‘A little flirting never hurt anyone,’ I say reasonably.
‘That’s what you thin
k, is it?’ A chill goes through me at the iciness of his stare. I’m lost for words as he turns his back on me and switches off the light.
A little under a year and a half later Rosalinde gets married. She wears a beautiful cream-coloured gown decorated with lace and a shower of Swarovski crystals, with a five-metre train. Her long, blonde hair is intricately twisted into a bun below a diamond tiara that has been handed down to her by her mother and her grandmother before that. Four hundred guests attend her wedding.
I am not one of them.
Lukas is. I think he wants to put some closure on their relationship. He said it would be inappropriate for me to go.
And so I read about it online. The wedding is a big deal in German high society, and I can understand the majority of what went on, thanks to the German lessons which I continue to take, even though I have long since graduated. I got a 2:1, just missing out on a First. Lukas blamed my spending too much time on the river, but I was happy with my result. Naturally he graduated with a First.
I’m currently working in a primary school in the city, after spending a year doing a Graduate Teacher Programme. I’m now fully qualified and I’m enjoying having a class of six- and seven-year-olds all to myself. Mind you, it’s only been two weeks, but so far so good, as they say.
The phone rings. It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday morning and I’m sitting on the bed, propped up with pillows. We’re still in our little cottage on Conduit Head Road. It feels like home now. I reach across to my bedside table and pick up the handset.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s me.’ Lukas.
‘Hi!’ I put my laptop to one side and sit up properly. ‘How was it?’ He’s still in Germany. The wedding was yesterday, but he didn’t call me last night.
‘It was fine.’
‘She went through with it, then?’ I say with a shaky laugh.
‘There was never any doubt in my mind that she would.’
I’m glad he could be so certain. I spent yesterday on tenterhooks, wondering if Lukas’s parents would succeed in getting him to do a last-minute intervention. Maybe now we can all get on with our lives – I feel like I’ve been ever-so-slightly in limbo since she got engaged. Was that the longest engagement in the history of engagements? I guess not. It felt like it to me, though. And now that it’s all over I’m surprised I’m not more relieved. I still feel numb, to be honest.
