by Adele Parks
‘Well, you have to speculate to accumulate, don’t you? I suppose it is going to be horribly tight. I’ll probably be living on practically bread and water.’
I try my hardest not to glance down at the sleek bags that Abi deposited in the kitchen doorway. Agent Provocateur, Cos and Selfridges. I clearly fail, as Abi laughs.
‘OK, maybe not bread and water exactly. More likely fags and Merlot, but I’m serious, I’m going to have to make some big cutbacks. That was my very last splurge. I’m going to have to be far more disciplined.’
I nod encouragingly. ‘So, what are the next steps?’ I ask.
‘Well, I’ll need to be in London for at least a few days a week – that will mean lots of hotel living. I don’t feel ready to commit to a London rental. I’m not sure that’s right just now. I need an element of flexibility.’
I’m not sure why, exactly. There could be a thousand reasons. Maybe something to do with Rob and the divorce settlement, maybe something to do with the project. She doesn’t elaborate. I don’t probe.
Abi continues. ‘I was thinking that I should rent up here and commute down.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I may eventually buy here.’
‘Here?’ I’m overjoyed; a feeling of pure delight washes through my body. I never expected this.
‘Yes.’ She smiles at me. ‘I like it around here. It’s an easy commute to London and property prices are so much more reasonable. In fact, I’ve made an appointment with an estate agent tomorrow. Apparently, she has flats on her books that she wants to show me.’
She’s going to stay around here! On my doorstep! I won’t have to dash to London to see her – she’ll be close by for ever. I think of having access to her glamour and energy on an ongoing basis. This is amazing! I’d never in a month of Sundays imagined she’d think about living here in Wolvney. I must be grinning like an idiot because she laughs, reaches out and squeezes my hand.
‘You seem surprised, but you shouldn’t be. You’re my best friend here in the UK. Even if you weren’t my only friend, I think you’d be my best friend,’ she jokes. Then more seriously, she adds, ‘The way you’ve welcomed me into your home has been phenomenal. So very generous. I never expected as much and I certainly can’t ever pay you back. I have no idea why you’ve been so good to me – after all, we hadn’t even spoken for years. You’re just lovely.’
I feel another surge of emotion seep through my body but this time, it’s a more complicated mix. Joy, guilt, relief, gratitude. Somehow, we have managed it; we have turned back time, we’re as close as we were before I conceived Liam. We’re fixed. I fixed it.
‘There’s nothing to pay back,’ I say breathily. ‘That’s what friends are for. I said you could stay as long as you needed and you can. In fact, you have to promise me that you won’t just accept the first flat that is offered for rental.’ Her hand is still on mine. She squeezes and then pulls back.
‘You’re the best,’ she says. ‘Now that’s settled I think I’ll go and have a quick shower. Wash London off, hey? You have had the immersion heater on, haven’t you? It was just too funny when I ran a bath last week and it was cold. Remember?’
Yes, I remember, not the hilarity so much as the embarrassment because it was obvious I’d really inconvenienced Abi. ‘Yes, I’ve had the immersion on.’
‘Oh good. Isn’t everything working out just perfectly, Mel?’ she says, and then she practically skips out of the room.
28
Abigail
Abigail offered to accompany Melanie to the school gate to pick up Imogen and Lily. Melanie was delighted and surprised because Abi always found an excuse not to do so. While Abi adored the girls and was enthralled by children in general, she found that – often – mums were boring, smug and ungrateful. She preferred not to put herself in the way of them. But today she had an agenda. She knew Melanie had been desperate to show her off; it was a kindness that she could grant.
Melanie waved to a couple of women, who instantly dashed over to talk. It was clear to Abi that these were the sort of women who would have Googled her. She was the most exciting thing that had happened to any of them since they went to the last Take That gig. They couldn’t quite hide their interest. Few people ever could, although back in LA people were at least a little more practised at faking nonchalance. A flicker of something scuttled across everyone’s face as she arrived. Even the deputy head nodded and waved. Mel laughed and commented, ‘Who knew he was the sort of man that notices women anymore? He doesn’t act flirtatious with any of us mums, not even the young and pretty ones – he’s too professional. You broke him, Abi.’
Abi was different from the mums. A fact she was very aware of. It was simultaneously a source of pride and pain. Glamorous, child-free and dazzling. This, they would visit in a zoo. Once Mel’s two friends had dashed to Abigail’s side, they suddenly seemed overcome with shyness. They eyed Abi with wariness; it was obvious to her that they were intimidated by her. It was a shame that Mel kept such parochial company. She should have confident friends, not the sort to be daunted by a Burberry trenchcoat and expensive caramel highlights.
‘Gillian, Becky, let me introduce you to my good friend Abigail Curtiz. Abi, meet Gillian Burton and Becky Taylor,’ gushed Mel.
Abi stretched out her long thin hand, Becky and Gillian self-consciously shook it. No doubt they usually settled for waves or smiles, not formal introductions at the school gate.
‘Good friend!’ Abi sounded outraged. She poked Mel playfully in the ribs. ‘Oldest and best is a better description.’ Mel blushed, obviously pleased that she’d been so publicly claimed. Abigail then pulled her face into one of horror. ‘Oh gosh, I hope I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes. I guess she’s your best friend too, am I right, ladies? Melanie has always been very much in demand, a cut above. Always so popular – everyone loves her.’
Gillian and Becky laughed and agreed, demonstrating kindness and good manners and the fact that they both had instantly fallen under Abi’s spell; they’d have agreed with anything she said just to be on the receiving end of one of her broad beams. Abigail briefly wondered whether they would sacrifice their first-born, if she’d asked them to.
‘Very pleased to meet you, Abi.’
‘Mel has told us so much about you.’
‘You were in London earlier this week, right?’
Naturally, she’d been the subject of their conversations. ‘Just got back,’ Abi said with an agreeable smile, conveying that she was glad to be away from the smoke, happy to be here with them in this small town. She launched into a conversation about a play she’d seen at The Old Vic. Both Becky and Gillian both professed to being desperate to see it too.
‘Mel has some big news, haven’t you Mel?’ prompted Abi.
‘Oh, yes. Abi is thinking of staying here in Wolvney, she’s going to be looking at flats to rent, tomorrow,’ she said.
‘No, not that,’ laughed Abi. ‘About Liam.’
‘Liam?’ Mel looked confused.
‘You are being modest. It’s a fantastic thing. Tell your friends, they’ll be so pleased for you.’ Mel shrugged, confused. ‘The internship,’ Abi prompted. Mel still didn’t pick up the mantel. Turning to Becky and Gillian, Abi announced, ‘Liam has been accepted into an incredibly prestigious internship in Westminster. He starts just after his exams. A three-month commitment, before he goes to uni. It’s huge news. Bound to increase his employment chances in the long term. First step to changing the world, hey, Mel?’ Abi elbowed her friend gently. Mel looked as though she was going to cry.
‘I didn’t know.’
‘What?’
‘I didn’t know he’d been accepted.’
Abi looked embarrassed. ‘Yesterday. He called me. I assumed—’ She broke off. Mel shook her head. A small, tight movement.
Becky tried to rescue the moment, and flung her arms around Mel. ‘What great news, congratulations him and you! You must be so proud.’
Gillian t
ried to rationalise Mel’s ignorance and Abi’s superior position of knowledge. ‘Didn’t you say Abi helped him prepare for the interview? I bet that’s why he thought to call her first. He’s got great manners. Probably called to thank you, didn’t he, Abi?’
Abi looked aghast. Aware her friend had to be incredibly hurt to have been left out of the loop. Such important news. ‘I just assumed you’d have been the first person he told,’ she stuttered. Mel shook her head, but couldn’t speak. ‘But it’s great news, isn’t it?’ Abi added.
‘Yes, yes of course. He’s talked about getting this placement for about two years,’ replied Mel. Her voice was scratchy, broken.
The next moment, Imogen and Lily and various other children were clustered around the women’s legs, demanding snacks, attention and to be taken home. Everyone seemed keen to scatter.
‘I know,’ said Abi suddenly. ‘Let’s go out tonight to celebrate – we could get some cocktails.’
‘Surely Mel will want to celebrate with Liam, Ben, and the girls,’ Becky pointed out.
Abi looked anxious. ‘I just thought that if Liam had wanted that he’d have said so. I don’t think he plans to celebrate with his family.’ A quick, nervous glance at Mel and then she added, ‘You know what they’re like at that age. It’s all about girlfriends. He probably has other plans. I don’t want Mel to be completely cheated out of a celebration. I mean, after all, her part in his success is not insubstantial. She’s done so much on her own for him. You know, in the early years.’
Mel couldn’t look at any of them. Becky clocked her mortification and chipped in, allowing Mel a little more time to compose herself. ‘Good plan – where will you go?’
‘Northampton. There’s nowhere around here that serves decent margaritas, is there? And believe me I’ve looked,’ replied Abi. ‘Shall we do it? All four of us? It’s not much of a celebration if it’s just the two of us.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Yes, please,’ Becky and Gillian chorused eagerly.
‘Great. That’s settled. Mel will text times. Right, Mel?’ Mel nodded, her face aflame with embarrassment. Abi squeezed her arm, sympathetically. ‘Don’t worry, we want to celebrate with you. It will be fun.’
29
Melanie
Liam hands me the letter confirming his place on the internship at Westminster the moment we get home. I glance at Abi and she winks at me, conspiratorially and whispers, ‘See, he was just waiting for the right moment to tell you.’ I decide there’s nothing to be gained by asking him how long he has had this news and why he’s kept it from me. Instead I fling my arms around him. ‘I’m so pleased!’ He accepts my hug. Encouraged I offer, ‘Shall we all go out tonight, have a celebration meal.’ I know Becky and Gillian would understand if I cancelled the cocktails.
Liam shakes his head. ‘It’s OK. That’s not necessary. I’ve some work to do and then I just fancy chilling.’ Something in his tone stops me pushing.
I wasn’t sure whether Ben would be too happy about me going out for cocktails tonight – he’s far from some Neanderthal man who makes sullen grunts if I have a social life, but with me missing his cinema date last week, I thought he might still be a bit off. However, Liam’s news is so exciting he is all acquiescence. In fact, he seems quite relieved that Abi and I are going to be out the way and he comments that having Gillian and Becky along will at least stop me going crazy.
‘What if I want to go crazy?’ I ask. He doesn’t reply to that. He just says he’ll take the opportunity to catch up with Liam.
‘I feel I haven’t had any quality time with him for a while. Maybe we’ll sit down and have a game of COD on the PlayStation.’
Normally I’d point out that playing video games isn’t exactly what I’d call quality time but I think better of it. I don’t feel on very solid ground around Liam but I’m fairly sure he’ll think COD is exactly that.
Abi has picked the cocktail bar, inside a trendy hotel called Hashtag. I had no idea such gorgeous places existed in Northampton. When I come here with Ben and the kids, I’m mostly limited to a glass of wine and half a dozen dough balls at Pizza Express. The bar is hidden behind a discreet glass door in a boutique hotel. The place manages to be breathtakingly flash and yet intimate at the same time. The walls are leather clad, there’s an antique mirrored ceiling, a copper-topped bar. The seats are a plush purple velvet, the lighting is low, and the cocktails are decadent.
‘I love it and never want to leave,’ I comment, although I hardly dare look at the prices.
I haven’t had time to eat anything this evening because once I’d bathed the girls and then pulled myself into something that was resembling cocktail-bar-ready, the taxi was waiting to take us to the station. Consequently, the alcohol goes straight to my head. Plus, they’re really yummy and easy to sink. Besides, I’m drowning sorrows. Yeah, we’re celebrating but I can’t quite put aside the hurt I feel that Liam didn’t instantly tell me his phenomenal news. Obviously, this is tied up with the disastrous conversation we had regarding his birth dad. I handled that so badly and, on some level, Liam is punishing me. I can’t blame him. Tomorrow, I’m going to sit him down. Talk this all through, before the gap between us widens any more. With that decided, I put the matter out of my head and concentrate on the cocktails. After all, when all said and done, it really is wonderful news.
Soon, we’re swapping confidences and gossip, sharing secrets and life hacks. Gillian tells us that she always has grapes in the freezer because they chill wine without watering it down the way ice cubes can, and no one ever has enough cold wine. We all agree this is genius. Becky says that if you put a wooden spoon over a pan of boiling vegetables or pasta, the pan will never boil over. It’s a useful tip but not especially exciting. Abi gives us loads of tips on applying make-up or looking leggier in photos. We lap it up, even though none of us have ever experienced the paparazzi door-stepping us, nor are we ever likely to. ‘And do you know how to avoid getting lipstick on your teeth?’ she asks.
‘No.’ We lean in, all ears; she’s the font of human knowledge.
‘After applying your lipstick, put your finger in your mouth. Close your lips around your finger, then pull your finger out. Slowly. The excess lipstick will get on your finger, and not on your teeth.’ Abi demonstrates. We three stare at her, transfixed. She obviously isn’t aware but it is quite a sexy move. I mean, it’s impossible not to think about what else she might clasp her scarlet lips around. Gillian, Becky, and I giggle nervously.
‘Your turn, Mel,’ prompts Becky.
‘Oh, I’ve discovered the cure for cellulite. One hundred per cent foolproof.’
‘Wow.’ Gillian and Becky’s eyes are on me now, keen. Almost desperate.
‘Take your glasses off every time you stand in front of the mirror – guaranteed smooth bum,’ I declare and then laugh at my own joke.
Gillian practically falls off her bar stool she’s laughing so hard, although Becky looks a bit cheated. Abi smiles vaguely, humouring me.
We have a lot to drink. Far too much. I don’t know how much. So much that I lose count. It’s turning into a great night. Brilliant. I already know I’m going to have a hangover from hell tomorrow. One like I’ve never had before, quite probably. I know that but I can’t imagine it and, right now, I certainly don’t care about it.
I can, however, imagine singing.
Maybe even dancing on a table top.
If there was a beach nearby, I’d be running barefoot. I’d be skinny dipping!
That sort of drunk. I try to add them up. Three cocktails, because we all bought a round, other than Abi, so yes then, three. That’s about ten units. Wow. We order food. Abi suggests it. She goes out more frequently than the rest of us and says we’ll never do the distance unless we eat. We order some really tasty bits. Some tacos and tostadas and potato something or other.
The food comes. It smells fantastic. I plan to pile in but as much as I try, the food just doesn’t get to my mouth. I have so
much to say. Funny stories. Frankly, I’m being hilarious tonight. Everyone is in stitches. Never been more amusing. I’m only telling stories about awful parents’ nights or awkward customers in the shop but somehow, I’m making the stories sassy and entertaining. I’m even doing the retellings with (largely inaccurate) accents. So, there’s too much talking, not enough eating. Even when the others talk, I don’t manage to eat much because their stories are hilarious as well. The first taco I tackle is over-filled, and I miss my mouth but hit my top. Even drunk I’m a bit annoyed by this. Becky keeps saying the greasy mark will come out with a bit of Vanish but the stain looks permanent to me, this being my area of expertise. However, I don’t want to say so. Who wants to be known for having great knowledge about stain removal from clothes? That’s not going to get a laugh. But for the record: grass, ink, mud; you name it, I can remove it. This isn’t the moment to share that sort of story. I keep that type of thing for the school gate; I can impress there.
Now, what is Abi saying? She hasn’t eaten much either. She’s sharing her expertise in removing clothes, far funnier.
‘So, Mel said you are dating?’ probes Gillian.
‘I just mentioned it,’ I say quickly.
Abi smiles, she doesn’t look concerned that I’ve been divulging details of her private life to my school-gate friends.
‘It’s true to say I’m having a lot of fun,’ admits Abi. ‘Rob and I got together when I was quite young. I’ve never had the chance to, shall we say, experiment.’
I start to snigger. It’s the drink. ‘Well, you were pretty wild in your first year,’ I point out. I’m surprised I made the comment out loud. I thought it was in my head. I glance at Abi, to check I haven’t offended her.
