Faking It

by Portia MacIntosh

  ‘Well, I’d better go dance to it,’ I tell her. ‘Lovely to see you again.’

  ‘You too,’ she calls after me. ‘I’m going to grab another drink. I’ll see you around.’

  I make my way through the small crowd that just formed, blocking my view of where Marco was, but he’s still right where I last had eyes on him, still dancing.

  I think one of my favourite things about him, and it’s one of my few favourite qualities about myself (second, of course, to my dedication to revenge) is that he’s happy to dance at clubs and parties. Lots of men just won’t dance, full stop, no negotiations, but Marco doesn’t dance like no one is watching, he dances like everyone is watching and it doesn’t affect his confidence for a second.

  The moment he claps eyes on me he widens his eyes (genuinely, I think) but then he discards his cardigan just like Danny does in the movie.

  ‘Look at you,’ he says.

  ‘Look at you,’ I reply. ‘You shaved.’

  ‘We chose the same movie in the end,’ he points out.

  ‘We chose the same scene,’ I tell him.

  It’s hard, when you’re here, in the outfit, with the music playing, not to dance along.

  We dance together, but as we find our bodies pulling towards each other we quickly move apart again.

  ‘Hey, come with me,’ Marco insists. ‘I really want you to meet my brother and sister-in-law.’

  ‘OK, sure,’ I reply nervously.

  Eek, no one has ever wanted to introduce me to their family; why am I so nervous?

  I follow him over to a couple who are dressed as Maria and Captain von Trapp from The Sound of Music. I know it’s Marco’s brother before he says a word because there’s a strong family resemblance.

  ‘This is my brother, Ant, and my sister-in-law, Lisa,’ Marco tells me excitedly.

  ‘Yeah, she knows that,’ Ant tells him with a laugh. ‘Our kids have been best friends since nursery.’

  ‘Right, yeah,’ Marco says awkwardly.

  Shit, I was so nervous about meeting them, I genuinely forgot for a few seconds I’m here as Emma. I think the same goes for Marco, who just really wanted me to meet his brother.

  ‘Hey, Emma,’ Ant says with a bemused laugh. ‘Is my brother bothering you?’

  ‘No, no,’ I insist. ‘Just an in-joke.’

  I’m pretty sure you can get yourself out of almost any situation by simply citing: in-joke.

  ‘You’ve got a look of a young John Travolta,’ Lisa tells Marco.

  ‘He really does,’ I say. ‘You should have seen him at… ah…’

  Shit! I was going to tell them about when we were dancing at Gloria’s but I can’t say that, can I?

  ‘Forgotten what I was going to say,’ I say with a chuckle.

  Well, the in-joke thing works a charm, but I’m pretty sure you need to let at least a minute or two pass before you say it again.

  Ant laughs.

  ‘Don’t worry, lots of people are smashed already,’ he says. ‘Have you seen the state of John Cunningham? I can’t believe what a state he’s in.’

  Ah well, at least they think I’m just drunk.

  I glance around the room nosily, looking out for people who are worse for wear, and taking in all the different costumes.

  I’m seeing lots of costumes from Grease, and I’m seeing plenty that I can’t quite figure out, but when I clap eyes on the Yummy Mummy Mafia, I instantly know who everyone is. Jessica, the leader of the pack, is dressed as Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors, even though I would describe her personality type as more Audrey II.

  As always, she is flanked by Cleo and Abbey, but they’ve both got their fellas in tow today. Cleo is dressed as Gabriella from High School Musical, with the oldest Troy Bolton I have ever seen in my life by her side. Abbey and her husband (who, jokes aside, I think I might actually kind of recognise as a Premier League footballer – I’m no expert though) have come as Mia and Sebastian from La La Land, which I like; that’s a bit cool and a bit different.

  ‘Next up for the karaoke we have John Cunningham,’ I hear a member of the band announce.

  Ah, the aforementioned, absolutely hammered John Cunningham; this ought to be good.

  Now that I’m looking at him up there on stage, dressed as Orin, the dentist from Little Shop of Horrors, I realise that it’s Jessica’s husband, John, aka Emma’s lovesick, fleeting bit on the side, and oh, boy, does he look drunk. He’s absolutely hammered and he’s even drinking now, during the intro to his song, which is obviously ‘Dentist!’ from Little Shop of Horrors.

  It’s absolutely hilarious, the way the band are singing the backing vocals, but that’s about all that is funny about it. John is tragic, screaming out the lyrics, slurring some of the words.

  All I can think to do is keep out of his way this evening, because he really seems as if he’s going through it right now, and with the amount he’s had to drink, he’s a ticking time bomb. I don’t think it would take much for him to start blabbing.

  A tap on my shoulder snaps me from my thoughts. I turn around, expecting to see Marco taking the piss out of John, but it’s Christian.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ I say.

  Christian is yet another Danny Zuko. This time just a classic Danny in his T-Birds jacket, which is what he told me he was going to wear.

  ‘Hi,’ he replies with a smile. ‘Your outfit looks great.’

  ‘Yours too,’ I tell him. ‘You finally got to put that leather jacket to good use.’

  ‘First and last time.’ He laughs. But his face quickly falls.

  We fall silent for a second or two. John’s vocals are absolutely deafening in the background.

  ‘Everything looks amazing,’ I say, filling the silence.

  ‘Could I have a word with you?’ Christian asks, raising his voice a little to cancel out John’s. ‘My office.’

  ‘OK,’ I reply.

  Ooh, ‘my office’, what a very teachery thing to say.

  ‘Back in a minute,’ I tell Marco before I jokily bite my bottom lip with pretend nerves at being called into the deputy head’s office. I suppose I am a little nervous though, following him along the lonely corridor towards his office. I can’t help but wonder what he wants that he has to tell me right now, in private, with a serious look like that on his face.

  This can’t be good…

  42

  ‘It’s such an amazing event,’ I tell him, just in case he didn’t hear me before. ‘Everything looks amazing. Everyone is having so much fun.’

  ‘Shit, the cleaner must have locked it,’ Christian says to himself as he tries his office door.

  ‘It’s OK, we can talk out here,’ I say. ‘I’ll feel less like I’m in trouble… I’m not in trouble, am I?’

  I’m smiling, but I am worried.

  ‘Of course, you’re not in trouble,’ he says with a smile. ‘I don’t think I have the power to give parents detention.’

  ‘Oh, but wouldn’t it be amazing if you did?’ I reply. ‘If someone could send John to isolation that would be great. That singing.’

  ‘Are you going to sing something?’ he asks me. ‘Finally live out your dream of playing Sandy on a school stage?’

  ‘I’m happy to blend into the background tonight,’ I admit. ‘I’m just so pleased to see it all going so well. Who knew it felt so good, to see your hard work paying off? Well, you do, I suppose – you are a teacher.’

  ‘Did you get your family emergency sorted last week?’ he asks, changing the subject.

  ‘I did – don’t ever have a teenager,’ I tell him. ‘Well, probably let Calvin grow up.’

  Oh God, I’m being so awkward. I guess I feel kind of awkward, standing here in the corridor with him, the noise of the party muffled in the background, even though we haven’t come far.

  ‘I thought maybe you were avoiding me,’ he says softly.

  ‘No, of course not,’ I reply. ‘You know what it’s like when you’ve got a partner and kids.’

&n
bsp; Annnd I’ve put my foot in it again.

  I know that, at the start, I thought that Christian was the kind of guy for me, but I think I liked the idea of him more than anything. He seemed like a good man, with a good job, a family, strong principles. And all of that is still true but – even if I pretend he doesn’t think I’m Emma – it’s Marco who I want to be with.

  It’s funny because, while I was so focused on how good Christian would be for me, I had myself convinced that Marco would be bad for me, and that I would be bad for him. But he’s been there for me, all this time, he’s always had my back. And the fact that he doesn’t think I’m Emma is a double positive, not only for the obvious reason – that it’s not true – but because he knows me, the real me. He knows I’m skint, unemployed, that I’ve tanked every opportunity that I’ve ever been given, and he doesn’t care. He just sees me, he sees me through all the mess, and he always has. He’s seen me since day one, and that’s as terrifying as it is amazing. I can’t hide from him, but I don’t want to.

  I have enjoyed hanging out with Christian, planning the fundraiser (hilariously, I still have no idea what we’re actually raising money for), but this friendship just can’t continue, not while I’m Emma, because there’s no way she’s going to resume it once she’s back. Now that the fundraiser is nearly over, we won’t have to be around each other at all, and that will help things go back to normal. If I were me, of course, I’d want to stay friends, but I’m still Emma for another week, so I’ve got to do what’s right.

  ‘We’ve done so much planning in such a short space of time,’ I remind him. ‘It’s no wonder it feels like suddenly something is missing.’

  ‘That’s exactly what it feels like though, Emma, like you’re missing all of a sudden,’ he explains. ‘I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, and I thought we were getting closer…’

  ‘We’ve done such a good job with the fundraiser—’ I start.

  ‘Screw the fundraiser,’ Christian interrupts. He sounds a little flustered. ‘We both know this is about more than the fundraiser.’

  He doesn’t give me a second to even think before he pulls me close and plants his lips on mine.

  I quickly push him away.

  ‘Oh, boy,’ I hear a voice say from behind me.

  In a cruel and unusual twist, and a fine example of life imitating art, my life appears to have musical-worthy timing at the moment.

  ‘Marco,’ I blurt.

  ‘I’ll talk to you when you’re done,’ he replies as he heads back around the corner.

  ‘Dude, what are you doing?’ I ask Christian, allowing myself to be, well, myself for a moment. ‘What is it with the men in this fucking village just going for it with women? It’s 2021. Don’t they make you watch DVDs that tell you no means no?’

  Christian seems a little taken aback, as if all of a sudden, he doesn’t recognise me any more – well, as if he doesn’t see Emma in me any more, I suppose.

  ‘We’ve been getting on really well,’ he says.

  ‘I’m married,’ I tell him.

  ‘We’ve been getting closer…’

  ‘Still married,’ I point out.

  ‘Oh, screw your marriage,’ he replies. ‘You’ve been after me for weeks, making up excuses to be around me, and now, what? You’re too scared to go through with it because you’re married?’

  He says the last two words in such a horrible, mocking tone. I get it, he’s pissed off at me, and he’s frustrated because he thought we had something, but at no point have I told him that I was interested in him, at no point have I made a move on him, so what the hell is he thinking? I thought he was such a good guy, but the kind of guy I thought he was is not the kind of guy who puts the move on married women. I certainly wasn’t expecting him to act this way. He just didn’t seem the type.

  ‘I’m going back to the party,’ I tell him.

  Well, that’s only where I’m going if that’s where Marco is, because I need to find him and explain.

  I hurry past the toilets, back towards the party, but as I pass a door that leads to a stairwell, I spot Marco sitting there out of the corner of my eye.

  ‘Shit, there you are,’ I say breathlessly. ‘Listen, we weren’t kissing, he kissed me, I didn’t ask him to, I stopped him.’

  ‘Ella, calm down,’ Marco insists. ‘Sit down for a second.’

  Sit down? Sitting down is for bad news. Fantastic. He’s easily the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I haven’t even been able to keep hold of him for a week.

  I sit down on the stairs next to him and puff air from my cheeks.

  ‘Marco, Christian kissed me,’ I insist again. ‘I would never.’

  ‘I told you, it’s fine,’ he says with a smile. ‘I heard everything he said. I saw what happened. You really need to be more careful having private conversations – anyone could be listening around the corner. Where’s your phone? I tried to call you.’

  ‘It’s in my coat. I checked it at the door – where am I going to put a phone in this outfit?’ I reply. ‘Don’t answer that.’

  ‘I’ve got good news. I didn’t want to tell you earlier, until I was sure, but I cracked the Smarty,’ he explains. ‘I just got the email confirmation. I was first. I’m getting the bounty.’

  ‘The £50k?’ I reply, in possibly the highest pitch my voice has ever reached. ‘Marco, that’s amazing. Who knew being a geek paid so well?’

  ‘The geeks shall inherit the earth,’ he jokes.

  ‘Just think what you can do with all that money, Marco! You can turn your life around.’

  ‘Our life around,’ he corrects me. ‘I told you, if I got back on my feet first, I’d make sure we were both OK. I know £50k isn’t much around these parts but it’s enough for me to stop crashing at my brother’s, it’s enough to live on while I sort my next job. And while you figure out what you want to do next.’

  ‘You are amazing,’ I tell him. ‘So amazing. So talented and caring and wonderful and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.’

  I jump to my feet and grab Marco by the hand. I’ll let go of it again before anyone sees.

  ‘Come on, this deserves a drink,’ I tell him.

  Marco stands up but instead of following my lead he lifts me up and pushes me back against the wall.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ I say quietly.

  ‘Just a few more minutes,’ he whispers before he kisses me.

  For a second, I get lost in the moment but then I stop him.

  ‘Oi, come on, we can’t do this here,’ I say through a playful giggle. ‘As much as I’d like to.’

  ‘OK, fine, we’ll do it your way,’ he says with a smile. ‘We’ll go back to the party. But can we get together later and celebrate properly?’

  ‘Of course, we can,’ I reply. ‘I’m sure we can sneak you in again.’

  ‘OK, I’ll go back out there first, so it doesn’t look suspicious,’ he says.

  Marco kisses me again before he disappears.

  Wow, this is like having an affair. It’s like all the sexy danger of an affair without anyone’s feelings getting hurt. I’m sure there’s almost no other way to replicate this feeling without ruining people’s lives so I’m going to make the most of it.

  I casually make my way back into the main hall, as though I’ve just popped to the loo or something, and slink up to one of the open bars to grab myself a drink.

  I just need to blend back in, as if I never ducked out, and I should probably find Rich and spend some time with him, for appearances. This is our most public event so we need to make it count, otherwise all this was for nothing.

  I’m avoiding John as though he’s an actual dentist, and the Christian thing is officially nipped in the bud. I just need to get through the rest of the event, get over this final hurdle, and then soon enough I’ll be able to stop living my sister’s life and start living my own again.

  Game face on, Ella. You’ve almost done it.

  43

  ‘Emma, darling,’
Erica slurs, far drunker than she was earlier.

  She grabs two drinks from the open bar and hands one to me.

  ‘Cheers,’ she says.

  ‘Cheers,’ I reply, clinking my glass of white wine with hers.

  ‘You are just something else,’ she tells me. ‘With your fabulous costumes. Frenchy was always my favourite.’

  Oh, boy, it must have been wine o’clock for hours for Erica. She’s barely coherent.

  ‘Yeah, she’s great,’ I reply. ‘I chose Sandy in the end.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I’m Sandy,’ I tell her, loudly and slowly.

  ‘Yeah, I can see,’ she replies. ‘Really impressive. Really fast.’

  ‘I just need to go find Rich,’ I tell her, because, honestly, she’s at a level of drunk that’s kind of freaking me out.

  ‘Next up for the karaoke we’ve got Emma Cooper,’ a voice announces over the sound system. ‘Emma Cooper, where are you?’

  What? I didn’t put my name down to sing.

  Erica screams like a madwoman.

  ‘She’s here, she’s here,’ she cries out.

  ‘Come on, Emma, come on up here,’ the frontman of the band calls out.

  With all eyes on me I have no choice but to make my way to the stage.

  When I get there, I walk straight to the front, rather than to the stairs.

  ‘I didn’t put my name down to sing,’ I tell him.

  ‘I’ve got you right here,’ he tells me. ‘Emma Cooper – “If I Only Had a Brain”.’

  ‘Ah,’ I reply. ‘I think that might be a prank – I don’t even know the words.’

  ‘Oh, OK,’ he replies, suddenly getting the joke at my expense. ‘Don’t worry.’

  ‘OK, apparently there’s been a mix-up,’ he announces. ‘So, I’m going to sing it instead. Take it away, boys.’

  Mortified, I shuffle away from the stage, keeping my eyes peeled for Rich. I eventually spot him outside, in the quad, so I make my way towards him. I’m just passing through the large open doors when I cross paths with Christian.

  ‘Hilarious,’ I say. ‘Really fucking mature.’

  ‘What?’ he calls after me.