With or Without You

by Shari Low

  ‘Bro, we were too cheap to buy you a present…’

  Another cheer.

  ‘So we got you something that came free instead.’

  Sasha groaned. ‘If it’s come out of a skip and ends up in our living room I’ll kill him.’

  Jake suddenly pointed at the door, and as every head turned and bodies parted we could see that there was a new arrival to the party.

  ‘Oh Jesus.’ That came from Chloe, as she realised that Justin’s gift came in the form of a six foot six inch pal, one who’d left a few years ago to go and live with his new girlfriend in the USA, one whom Chloe had loved, lost and had thought about every single day since. ‘Is his girlfriend there? Dear God, tell me she’s not.’ Chloe prayed.

  I had a hunch that her eyes were closed, so I checked out the scene at the door. ‘No girlfriend,’ I confirmed.

  Behind Connor though, I saw Nate, closely followed by Janet the Jogger. Yep, she was still on the scene, still had thighs that could crack nuts and her favourite subjects were still her fitness routines and the nutritional values of beans. We’d been in the same company several times now and we managed to keep it ‘civil with a pretence of friendliness’, all of which was done while I held in my stomach and tried to keep my chin at a flattering angle.

  So that’s why he was late. He was bringing the surprise. It wouldn’t be a newsflash at all if he’d organised the whole thing. That was the kind of thoughtful guy he was. A pang of something flipped my stomach. I missed him. Not all the time. Just fleeting thoughts.

  In moments of deep retrospection (usually between applying shampoo and conditioner in the shower), I could admit that Richard and I had a great time, an uncomplicated relationship that suited us both perfectly, but we didn’t have that deep connection that I’d had with Nate. However, we did have plenty of laughs, great sex, and because we were both in the same field, we understood each other’s pressures and challenges. He got me. I got him. Maybe I just wasn’t letting my emotional barriers down, but it hadn’t moved to anything deeper. We didn’t have a decade of shared history, and sometimes I missed that, missed Nate. Maybe there was enough of a distance from the break-up to start hanging out together again. We could be friends. It wasn’t as if he and Janet the Jogger were inseparable – Sasha had been telling me for the last year that it was a purely casual thing.

  Connor and Justin had a prolonged man-greet-man hug in the middle of the floor to whoops and cheers from the crowd, breaking off only when Justin shouted, ‘Connor Smith is here! Time to drink!’, and the revellers duly responded by storming the bar. At that moment, Connor’s eyes found us and, arm still around Justin’s shoulders, Nate and Janet following, they headed our way.

  It took me a moment to realise that Chloe had stopped breathing beside me. I immediately felt for her hand and grabbed it tight. Connor. It was obvious that no one at our table knew he was coming, and that Chloe, most of all, was slipping into some kind of catatonic shock at the sight of him. Her biggest regret was that she hadn’t realised until after he was gone how she felt about him, and she’d never had the opportunity to tell him. Until maybe now.

  Chloe’s hand was now gripping mine so tightly it was cutting off circulation to my fingers.

  ‘Play cool,’ I whispered, not sure if it was to myself or to Chloe. ‘I’ve got you,’ I added. She squeezed tighter and I tried not to yelp.

  They were at the table now and the exclamations of surprise were only halted when Sasha punched Nate in the arm. ‘So this is why you’ve been playing hard to get this week. I was ready to hunt you down.’

  Nate laughed. ‘I had to stay out of the way. I knew I’d crack.’

  He was right. He’d always been hopeless at keeping secrets. Another pang. Okay, so I really missed him. We definitely had to get back on ‘friends that hang out’ terms. And I really hoped that Richard wasn’t staring at my face right now because I was fairly sure it was flushing.

  While the conversation was going on, I noticed the look that passed between Connor and Chloe. More than a look. They locked eyes, and all we needed was a slow-motion replay to make this a moment right out of a romcom. He leaned over, she leaned over, his face cracked into the biggest smile, hers did the same, her arms went up around his neck, his went around her waist, and he pulled her up like she was as light as a feather and kissed her, hard on the mouth, for way longer than any casual greeting between friends.

  ‘If he does that to everyone, I’m first in the queue,’ Sasha deadpanned. I ignored her, my heart ready to burst with happiness for Chloe. I had no idea how it happened. I wasn’t even sure that it had. But somehow, right here, right now, her man was back and all was right in Chloe’s world.

  When they finally broke off, Sasha stepped in. ‘I’m next,’ she said, holding arms up to Connor, cracking the rest of us up.

  She settled for a huge hug.

  ‘What is going on? What are you doing here?’ she asked what we were all thinking.

  Meanwhile, I noticed that Chloe had replaced my hand with Connor’s, despite the fact that barely a word had passed between them yet.

  My heart soared again. I loved this. It felt like old times… With the obvious exception. I caught Nate’s eye and he smiled sadly, and in that moment I had a real feeling that he was thinking the same as me. Did we let go too soon? Could this have been us?

  Connor took a bottle of Budweiser that had just been thrust into his hand by Jake, then got around to answering Sasha’s question.

  ‘Nate called me last week…’

  I knew Nate would be behind this. So thoughtful. And kind. And… Oh God, I had to stop thinking like this. The feeling of Richard’s hand, running provocatively up and down my spine, distracted me. Focus.

  ‘And, the thing is, Stacey and I split a few weeks ago, so I decided I needed a vacation. When he told me about tonight…’

  Connor was staring straight at Chloe, but my thoughts were back on Nate again. Look at him, all bashful, not even trying to take the credit. It was almost as if he was embarrassed.

  ‘And then he told me his news, I knew I had to come back.’

  Aaaah, so brilliant and… Wait, what? What news?

  It took the others a moment to catch up too.

  Sasha got there first. ‘You have news?’

  A pause. Nate still saying nothing, but looking at me now, a strange expression on his face. Almost apologetic. What did he have to apologise for?

  Janet delivered the answer with an excited yelp, as she thrust her hand into the middle of the gathering.

  ‘We got engaged!’

  Chapter Four

  Barbeque at Chloe and Connor’s House

  July 2002

  ‘That’s the sexiest smell ever,’ I purred, as we walked down the path at the side of Chloe and Connor’s house, and unclipped the gate to the back garden.

  ‘It’s Calvin Klein,’ Richard replied, preening just a little. It was almost a shame to burst his aromatic bubble.

  ‘I was talking about the smell of sausages on the barbeque,’ I admitted, trying oh so hard not to laugh.

  He was saved from dwelling on the embarrassment by a rousing cheer of greeting. Chloe and Sasha were sitting at a beautifully set table that could have been straight out of a John Lewis summer advert. How did she do that? My barbeques consisted of crumbling burgers and burnt sausages, with plastic plates, a few bottles of ketchup, that yellow relish with sweetcorn in it, and napkins left over from Christmas plonked in the middle of the table. Chloe’s? Aesthetic perfection. If I didn’t love her so much, I could really take a dislike to that level of domestic superiority. And that level of personal style too. Her vintage, 50s style summer dress, cinched in at the waist and flaring out to just below the knee, made my boot cut jeans and sloppy T-shirt look positively shoddy. Sasha, meanwhile, was rocking sexy white hipster trousers and a red off-the-shoulder Bardot top. For the sake of my own self-esteem, I really had to get scruffier pals.

  Richard headed over to the barbequ
e, where Connor and Justin were standing, bottles of beer in hand, pretending to supervise the sausage-browning process. It was always the same. Chloe would have done all the planning, the organisation, the shopping, and been up at the crack of dawn this morning preparing everything. Connor and the guys would slap some chicken skewers on the barbie and then act like they were the second coming of Jamie Oliver.

  By the time Richard reached the menfolk, Justin already had a bottle of beer out of the cooler and uncapped for him. When I first started dating Richard, I’d worried that there would be awkwardness between him and the guys. Nate and Justin had struck up an instant friendship when Sasha introduced him to us – I did a quick calculation in my head – must be nine years ago now. And obviously now that Connor was back, his loyalties would lie with Nate. It would be only natural if they were wary of Richard or felt some kind of emotional conflict, but thankfully it was clear that still waters didn’t actually run particularly deep. It helped that Richard had that laid-back attitude, a sense of humour and an encyclopaedic knowledge of Scottish football from about 1985 until the present day.

  I joined the girls at the table, noticing first Chloe’s beaming smile. It had pretty much been a permanent fixture since Connor had come back the year before. His trip home for Justin’s birthday party had turned into a permanent thing when he rekindled his life with Chloe. He hadn’t even gone back to collect his stuff, just had it shipped over here and they’d lived happily ever after. Not great news for me on the home front, as I’d had to move out and find a place of my own. In the end, Richard solved the problem by suggesting I move in with him. So far, it was working out great – although I was very aware it was a false reality because we were permanently on different shifts, so we were lucky if we got one or two nights off together in a week. I can vouch for the fact that absence makes the heart grow fonder. And it also means you don’t get heartily sick of picking up someone’s socks off the floor.

  Sometimes I wondered if it would work so well if we lived normal lives, with normal shift patterns, or spent more than a couple of days together at a time. I was sure it would, but right now it wasn’t an issue.

  We were happy.

  Chloe and Connor were now ensconced in their new house, complete with front and back garden and – I kid you not – a white picket fence, and they were happy too.

  Nate and his fiancée Janet were happy. I couldn’t help it if my eyes rolled when I had that thought.

  Anyway, three out of four couples isn’t bad. I just wished I could say the same for Sasha and Justin. Right now, her face was wearing the kind of expression that could quite easily end in crime scene investigators dusting down the white suits and face masks.

  ‘What’s up, my love? You look like someone stole your hot dog,’ I joked, trying to cajole her out of whatever irritation was winding her up.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all,’ she replied in a voice that made it obvious it was something. That was Sasha. Tough exterior, didn’t show weakness, easily prone to irritation, quick to snap.

  I decided it was easier to seek answers elsewhere. ‘Is she mad at us or Justin?’ I asked Chloe.

  ‘Justin. He’s already hammered and it’s only two o’clock.’

  ‘Ah, yep, that would definitely piss her off.’

  Sasha glared at us, brow furrowed, but I could tell she was mildly amused by this. ‘You know I’m sitting right here and can hear you,’ she said, trying to stick with irritation and failing.

  I nodded. ‘Yep, but you weren’t being straight with me and I’m not emotionally equipped for drama today, so I just wanted to establish the lay of the land.’

  ‘Why, what’s up? Is everything okay?’ Chloe now.

  ‘It’s fine, I’m just… Och, it was a tough week. We lost Charlie.’

  Charlie Moss, twenty-two years old, had fought cancer for the fourth time in his short life and this time the bastard disease had won. He’d been with us for almost five months, defying his prognosis to become one of our longer-term patients, and we’d become… friends. He was one of the good guys, an optimistic, positive kid who would have had a great life in front of him. No matter how long I’d been doing this job, sometimes the sadness and injustice that we saw every day just got to me. This was one of those weeks.

  Chloe reached over and took my hand. ‘So sorry, lovely. I know how much you cared for him.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, squeezing her hand, before outwardly shaking off my sadness and forcing myself to adopt a happier demeanour. I wasn’t here to bring everyone down, no matter how I was feeling. ‘Right enough of my woes. Let’s turn our attention back to Sasha shooting daggers at Justin. That was way more fun.’

  With precision timing, Justin chose that moment to sway, then drop a bottle of beer on the patio, causing it to smash and shoot amber liquid everywhere. Oh God. This wasn’t going to end well. I could feel Sasha’s irritation levels shooting skywards.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Chloe cautioned Sasha. ‘It’s fine. It’s only a bottle. Connor will clear it up.’

  ‘It’s not fine,’ Sasha snapped back, then bit down any further reaction. Justin had always liked a drink, but over the last year or so he seemed to like it more and more. Sasha was a serial party animal too, but this was becoming too much, even for her. Every gathering, every occasion, every day ending in a ‘y’ over the last few months had ended in them bickering about the fact that he was seriously drunk. ‘Someone change the subject before I go over there and commit a crime with a half-cooked kebab.’

  ‘I will,’ Chloe said. ‘Wait till I tell you who I met this week.’

  ‘Brad Pitt,’ I said.

  ‘George Clooney.’ Sasha offered, making a valiant effort to play along while refusing to even glance in Justin’s direction.

  ‘That bloke who’s in Fast & Furious,’ I countered.

  ‘Okay, so any answer I come up with now will be a complete anti-climax,’ Chloe wailed.

  ‘No, I promise we’ll act impressed,’ I assured her. ‘Especially if it’s Matt Damon.’

  She dipped her finger in her glass of wine and flicked it at me as I ducked.

  Thank God for these women. They always had a way of making everything seem just a little bit better. Except Sasha, obviously. But we kept her in case we ever had to volunteer someone to be a gangland enforcer.

  Chloe took a dramatic pause, commandeering the moment. ‘Remember the girl you found in the toilets at the millennium party?’

  ‘Of course. Francine,’ I replied. That wasn’t an encounter I would ever forget.

  ‘Yes! She’s working on our ward. After what happened to her, she decided to apply for uni to study medicine, and she’s moonlighting as a nursing assistant to support herself while she’s studying. How cool is that? She is going to be a doctor and it’s all because of that night.’

  ‘That is pretty cool indeed,’ I agreed, feeling ridiculously grateful that I’d found her in time. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. ‘I’ll pop down to the ward and say hi next time I’m on night shift,’ I promised. I’d often wondered how she was doing. It would be lovely to see her.

  ‘Yep, keep her sweet,’ Sasha interjected dryly, finally staring over at Justin, ‘because she might come in handy one day for detoxing my boyfriend.’

  I was about to try to console her when a screeching sound made my teeth grind. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a screech but Janet the Jogger’s voice had the same effect on me as nails clawing down a blackboard.

  ‘Hi everyone!’ Janet bellowed, and Chloe immediately shot me an apologetic glance. I hadn’t known they were coming, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Nate and Connor had been best mates for the same length of time as Chloe and I, so it would have been ludicrous to make them choose to have one of us at a gathering and not the other. Anyway, it wasn’t as if there was any bad feeling at all. In fact, Nate and Richard got on really well. We weren’t exactly all going on holiday together or sharing Christmas dinner, but when we saw each other
at social events it was all very amicable.

  If I could just get my inner bitch to stop contemplating gagging Janet with her swingy blonde ponytail every time she talked about squats and lunges, it would be great.

  I watched Nate stroll over to testosterone corner and had to admit he looked well. Janet was obviously good for him. They were just back from two weeks in Tenerife and he was tanned, with sun-lightened flecks through his chestnut hair. He had on cargo shorts and a white T-shirt that clung in all the right places. My inner bitch was pushed out of the way by my inner ex-wife, the one that had a sudden urge to run my fingers through his hair. Wow, where did that come from? I hadn’t even wanted to run my fingers through his hair the last few years we were married.

  My emotions were just all over the place this week.

  Janet kissed everyone, me included, then pulled out another chair for her Lycra-clad buttocks. Did she ever wear real clothes? You know, ones made of fibres that didn’t stretch and shine? That was my inner bitch again. I attempted to drown her with a large gulp of Chardonnay.

  Just a few minutes later, the guys headed over to join us, all carrying various components of the feast. Connor was clutching a plate piled with chicken skewers in one hand and a large dish of burgers in the other. Nate had the box of beers and Justin had…

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ he exclaimed, as he staggered to the side and somehow lost his balance, sending the tray of sausages that he was holding scattering across the lawn.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Sasha hissed, furious.

  Justin, grappling to pull himself up, obviously heard her. His response was definitely slightly slurred. ‘What’s up with you? Chill out.’

  I closed my eyes, a premonition of what was about to happen flashing in neon in my brain. In the entire history of the existence of Sasha, never once had a demand that she ‘chill out’ or ‘calm down’ been followed by her responding, ‘Good idea,’ then kicking off her shoes, lighting a Jo Malone candle and having an interlude of relaxation.

  ‘I’m not doing this here,’ she warned, her tone deadly, but keeping uncharacteristically calm.