by Frances Pye
“You just don’t get it, do you?” This was not a conversation Terry wanted to have. The girls were getting together—apart from Mara, who was at home, hopefully letting Sean have a look at her house—to try to cheer up Jules, and though Terry wanted her friend to be less depressed, she didn’t want it to be because she thought she had found a way to exploit Sean again.
Jules walked across her living room, took a bottle of wine out of a cooler, and poured some more into her’s and Terry’s glasses. “Get what? Why are you making such a fuss? All I’m asking for is a little bit of sperm.”
“Then get it from somewhere else.”
“But he’s perfect.”
“No, he’s not. He’s the worst person you could choose.”
“But why? He’s healthy, handsome, potent. He’s just a little bit unhappy with me. But I can put that right. I know I can. It’s just a matter of persuasion. It’s got to be. If I can forgive him for almost hitting me, he can forgive me for what I did.”
Terry drank down half of her wine in one go. “Fucking hell, Jules. Can’t you see? You hurt him. A lot.”
“I didn’t mean to. And I’m sorry. You know I’m sorry.”
“Do I? Does he even know you lost the baby?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think…Lily must have, surely?” Jules didn’t want to talk about the baby. After a week of tears and regrets, she desperately wanted to block out all thought of what she had lost. Hence her resolve to approach Sean. If she could just convince him to help her again, perhaps she would be able to look ahead rather than back.
When she’d first thought of the idea, she’d dismissed it. She kept seeing him advancing on her, shouting at her, threatening her. But then she remembered their nights together. His tenderness in bed, his easygoing friendliness, his willingness to help. That was the real Sean. The incident in her office had been a onetime thing. She had shattered his illusions, told him he wasn’t going to have anything to do with her baby, and he had snapped. It wouldn’t happen again.
“See? You haven’t changed at all. It’s still you, you, you. How the hell can you think he’ll come back for more?” In an attempt to hold on to her temper, Terry walked over to the bottle of wine, refilled her now-empty glass, and gulped most of it down.
“But I need him. Surely there’s a way I can win him over?”
The beseeching tone in Jules’s voice, like a child wheedling for a treat, sent Terry one notch closer to losing it. “Don’t you care about anyone but yourself? I thought you said you’d learned your lesson. It doesn’t sound like it. It sounds like you’re so desperate to have a kid that you’re prepared to use and abuse a great guy to get one.”
“I just want a baby.”
“And that’s all that matters, isn’t it? What you want. Sean’s feelings don’t come into it. God, Jules, what the hell makes you think you should be allowed to have a kid?”
Jules was shocked by her friend’s words. She stared at Terry, unable to reply for a moment. Until she managed to stammer out, “I’d…I’d be a good mother. I would.”
“Not with Sean’s baby. Not if I’ve got anything to do with it.”
“I told you, I’d let him see it.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“It’s what he wanted.”
“Then. It’s what he wanted then. Who knows what he wants now? But I bet it isn’t to give a selfish cow like you his baby.”
Jules’s mouth dropped open. She found it hard to believe that Terry was saying such things to her. Yes, there had always been some tension between them, but not like this. This was more than tension. This was deep-seated resentment finding its way into the open for the first time. Of the four friends, Jules and Terry had always gotten on least well, and Jules had never felt that she could relax with Terry in quite the same way she did with Lily and Mara. She had always been a bit intimidated by Terry’s forthright manner, and often felt distinctly mediocre in comparison. For while her upbringing had trained her to mouth unconvincing and unexciting social platitudes, Terry’s had made her sharp and funny and true to life. But even though the two had never been all that close, Jules had had no idea that Terry had such hostility stored up inside.
“I told you months ago this was a mistake, didn’t I?” Terry continued, unable to stop the angry words. “But you didn’t even hear. You just carried on, like anything you wanted had to be right. Stuck-up, spoiled, self-indulgent bitch that you are.”
“Me? Me a bitch? You’re the one.” Jules’s shock was wearing off. “Where’s your compassion? I lost my baby.”
“Don’t give me that. If you were still all that upset, you’d not be obsessing about getting Sean back in your bed.” Terry couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth. She’d wanted to champion Sean, but that had somehow turned into something very personal. And cruel. “Time you faced the truth. No matter what you do, no matter how much you butter him up, Sean is not going to father another child for you. And if you had any sensitivity at all, you’d leave him alone.”
“Why? I suppose you’re interested in him yourself.” Jules threw out a shot in the dark.
And hit a sensitive nerve. “No. Course I’m not.”
“I always knew that celibacy thing was a joke.”
“It wasn’t. It isn’t.”
“Anyway, why should you have him? When I can’t? Who’s the selfish bitch here?”
“Piss off.”
“Just the kind of intelligent response I’d expect from a Liverpool slag like you.”
“You stuck-up cow.”
“Oh, dear. Chips on both shoulders.”
“Fuck you. Looking down your superior, snide little nose at me. Well, I’ve had it. Years and years and years I’ve put up with that sneer of yours.”
“There’s a lot to sneer at.”
“So I’m from Liverpool eight. So I never finished school. So I drive a bus. Who the fuck cares? I’m better than you any day of the week.”
“Are you? When your mother didn’t even know who your father was?”
Terry staggered at this assault. Then launched her own attack. “I’d rather have a mother who fucked the whole of the bleeding British Army than yours. No wonder Diana hates you.”
Cracks appeared in Jules’s scornful facade. “You vindictive little bitch.”
“That hurt, did it? Good.”
“What on earth possessed Lily to befriend you?”
“Easy. I’m a hell of a lot more fun than you are.”
“You are not. You’re barely educated. You buy the News of the World. When was the last time you read a book?”
“Books. God, you’re dull. Dull, dull, dull. It’s like spending time with the Queen. Always so reserved. Yuck!”
“At least I enjoy sex.”
“You fucking cow.”
“Bitch.”
“Slag.”
“What the hell are you two doing?” Lily’s voice broke in on them. She’d heard the shouting from outside the door and had let herself in.
Terry and Jules were standing at opposite ends of the small living room. Terry was breathless, her face red, her fists clenched. Jules appeared more poised on the surface but her face was rigid, her eyes were glittering with anger, and she was holding on hard to the back of a small leather chair. Neither turned to look at Lily or replied to her question, both struggling to contain their rage and resentment.
“Sit down, both of you. Calm down. Have a drink. Whatever it is, it isn’t worth this.”
Lily’s cool voice broke the spell. Terry started to look more embarrassed than angry, Jules’s face lost its hard-set look and she let go of the chair she was clutching.
“Good thing I got here when I did. You two looked ready to kill. What on earth happened?”
“Er, nothing,” Terry mumbled.
“We just…We disagreed about something,” Jules muttered.
“If that’s what you call a disagreement, I can’t wait to see you quarrel.”
Terry looked over at Jules. Now that the heat had worn off, she was horrified she had said all those hurtful things. What on earth had possessed her? Even if Jules did rub her the wrong way at times, she’d never wanted to hurt her. Well, not before Sean, that is. She walked over to her and held out her hand. “I’m sorry. I was a monster. I don’t know what came over me.”
Jules shook her hand. “Or me.” She knew she should do more, should hug Terry or give her a peck on the cheek, but she was still dazed from their fight. And though she regretted retaliating, she was also shaken by Terry’s attitude. And the apparent depths of her anger.
“Friends?” Terry ventured.
“Yes. Yes…of course.”
“So what was it all about?”
Jules and Terry both blushed.
“Like that, eh? Let me guess. Sean?” Terry nodded. “Oh, girls. No. This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” Lily wasn’t nearly as disappointed as she sounded. The sight of Jules and Terry going at each other over Sean had been horrifying, yes, but it had also been reassuring. It wasn’t just she who found the sharing tough. “It was supposed to solve our problems, not create more.”
“And it did.”
“To begin with.”
“It’s got to stop. Right now.” The fight would give Lily a welcome excuse to end the scheme without admitting to anyone that she was having a hard time dealing with it herself. “Look at you two. Screaming at each other, dripping with anger, forgetting your friendship. It’s too much.”
“I didn’t forget,” said Terry sheepishly.
“Nor did I.” Jules looked at the floor.
“And what I just saw was a demonstration of sisterly love? Sure, Sean seemed like a good idea. But it’s not working. Maybe it’s asking too much of us. Maybe it’s just not gone right. Who knows. Anyway, it’s time to call it off. I can’t deal with watching my friends become rivals. Ter?”
“Fine by me.” No question, that was the right thing. They had to stop treating Sean as if he was a commodity to be sliced up and shared, without his knowledge or consent.
“Jules?”
“If you say so. Yes. Of course. It’s your decision.” What else could she say? It was Lily’s choice. He had been hers to give and so was hers to take away.
“Good. That’s settled, then.”
The thought of another chance at Sean—no matter how unlikely it had seemed—had temporarily held Jules’s post-miscarriage blues at bay. But now that she could no longer clutch at that very short and very fragile straw, depression sank back over her. But she didn’t want Lily to feel guilty about her decision—after all, she had every right to call time on their sharing scheme—and so, to hide her misery, Jules said the first thing that came to mind. “So what about you? Are you going to carry on seeing him?”
“Yeah. I think so. He’s too good for me just to drop like that. And there’s Mara’s repairs to think of. Besides, I’d miss him.”
“And we won’t?” The words snapped out before Jules could stop herself.
“Jules?”
“Sorry. Take no notice of me. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Do you want me to give Sean up too?”
“No. Of course not. Why would I want that?”
“It might be fairer.”
“He was yours. He still is. What’s unfair about that?”
“Nothing. But you don’t sound happy.”
Jules didn’t want to talk about how she felt. What would be the point? She searched for something to distract Lily. “I’m fine. Only, am I allowed to feel just a little bit envious?” she said, trying to make a joke.
“Of what? Or can I guess?”
“I would think you could.” She forced a smile. “After all, he is very, very good at it.”
“Isn’t he?”
Terry listened to her two friends talking. They didn’t seem to have grasped the point at all. Maybe Sean wasn’t up for grabs anymore, but they were still talking about him as if he was nothing. A body to be enjoyed. A penis, there for their pleasure.
Jules wasn’t going to miss Sean. Jules didn’t know Sean. And Terry was coming to the conclusion that Lily didn’t either. But Terry did. And she was having a hard time coping with the thought that she was never going to see him again.
Four
sixty
Sean scrunched up the tiny strip of paper and threw it at the wastepaper basket. He’d just finished a lunchtime take-away Chinese meal and had cracked open the accompanying fortune cookie in the vain hope that he might get some kind of guidance. But it had been useless. Of course.
After his dinner with Mara the previous day, he’d wanted to rush straight around to see Terry. But it had been too late when he’d left Chiswick; by the time he got to Terry’s, chances were she and Paul would both be in bed. Then, in the cold, unforgiving light of a November day, he’d begun to waver. On the one hand, Mara had been very encouraging. She hadn’t said it in so many words, but she had hinted that Terry liked him. But what if she were wrong? What if he did what she suggested, told Terry how he felt, and she then laughed at him? Or even worse, felt sorry for him? Half of him wanted to get up right then, rush across the city to Stoke Newington, wait for Terry to finish her shift and come home so he could talk to her. But the other half wanted to linger at work, to put off seeing her and hang on to the hope that Mara had given him.
Then there was Lily. He’d agreed to see her at ten that night. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d had to call her to talk about Mara and she’d asked and he hadn’t been ready with an excuse, so he’d said yes. But he couldn’t imagine anything he wanted to do less. All he could think about was Terry and going to visit her and making things right. Over the last months, she had somehow become necessary to him. He hadn’t noticed it happening. It wasn’t as if he’d spent all that much time with her. But now that he couldn’t even talk to her, he realized that whenever he’d been with her, he’d been happy. Not just passing the time, not just doing things to stop him thinking of his boys, but happy.
Sean looked at his watch. It was getting dark already and he’d done nothing all day. Just cowered in his office, dithering. Angry with himself, he made a snap decision. He was going around to Terry’s that evening. If it went wrong, so be it, but he had to see her, to talk to her, to explain.
He reached out, picked up the phone, and dialed. Lily had said she’d be in a meeting all afternoon. With luck he’d get her voice mail.
The phone rang twice in his ear. Then her message machine picked up. Sean breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hi, Lily. Sean. Listen, something’s come up. I’m sorry, I, um, won’t be able to make it tonight. Er, see you. ’Bye.”
LILY STOOD in Mara’s front yard, looking up at the window she knew was the girls’ bedroom. The lights had just gone off. The signal she’d been waiting for. Moo and Tilly were in bed. She could tell Mara what she had to without them overhearing. Lily had been waiting outside the house for ten minutes, pacing up and down, trying not to make herself obvious but too nervous to stand still in the shadows. She wasn’t looking forward to the next hour or so. Destroying a friend’s illusions about her loved ones ranked high on her list of least favorite things to do. But now Moo and Tilly were safely out of the way. And she had to go in.
Looking at the house through freshly opened eyes, Lily had realized that the place was almost a ruin. She’d not noticed before, the deterioration had been so gradual. But now, observing it anew, even in the dark, she could see what Sean meant. Mara had to sell. That or pour a fortune into the property. And Lily was sure that even if she and Jules could raise the amount needed, Mara would never accept it. They could perhaps have railroaded her into accepting a couple of thousand as a gift, but £30,000? Never.
No, Mara had to sell before the place was worth nothing. And if she refused to do so because she and Jake had bought it and lived there together, then she had to be told about Jake.
Lily picked up the bottle of wine she’d brought with her in the hope
that a drink or two might make this a little easier, reached out, and pressed the doorbell. She listened to the sound of that happy tune ringing through the house and was very sure that Mara would find it hard to see a bright side to what she was about to learn. But much as Lily dreaded it, much as she longed for another solution, she knew that there was none. Mara’s cough might be better, according to Sean, but if she insisted on staying in her house, it was only a matter of time before she’d be ill again. She had to be told that her perfect husband had actually been a womanizing jerk.
ON THE other side of the road, Clive, concealed behind an overgrown hedge, watched Lily as she dithered on the doorstep for ten minutes until she finally rang the bell. He’d decided to hang around Mara’s house for a while. As far as he was aware, Sean hadn’t been near her before the previous day. Maybe, just maybe, something was about to happen. He had certainly not got what he needed from watching the others. So he’d taken a chance and stayed in Chiswick, waiting.
And he wondered if he was about to be rewarded. Lily visiting her friend wasn’t unusual, but her hovering on the doorstep, apparently reluctant to go in, definitely was.
Still, when Mara appeared at the door, all smiles, it looked as if nothing was wrong. Clive thought about returning to spy on Sean but decided against it. Maybe Lily had just been distracted—thinking up a new joke or choosing fabric for her disgustingly expensive house—but it hadn’t seemed like that. Clive’s bloodhound nose scented trouble. He’d stick around a while longer.
TERRY STIRRED two large dollops of yogurt into her spicy mushroom and lentil casserole. It had always been one of her favorite meals, a warm, comforting stew that she made for herself when she was feeling down. And it almost always did the trick. But tonight Terry had a feeling it wasn’t going to work. She needed something more than a tasty dinner to cheer her up.
She needed Sean. But she wasn’t going to get him. Even if he called again, she’d still have to say no. Because no matter how much rejecting him might hurt at the time, it had to be better than allowing him to find out how useless she was in bed. And see his liking for her turn into disappointment. Or worse. In the end, she’d prefer to protect her fantasy of his being the man who could make it work for her rather than suffer the grim, bitter reality of another failure.
