‘You will be okay, won’t you, Clar? I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, but… well, it’s my wedding reception.’
She patted his shoulder. ‘Go on, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to monopolise the groom on his big day.’
‘Didn’t expect you to turn up alone. Weren’t you going to ask that friend of yours, Simon?’
‘He couldn’t make it,’ Clarrie said. ‘Look, Joanna’s not upset with me, is she? I didn’t mean to offend her, honestly. Just trying to make friends.’
‘She won’t be, once I explain.’
‘Explain what, that I’m a socially dysfunctional nutjob?’ she said, laughing.
He smiled. ‘That you’re Clarrie. See you later, yeah?’
He left to join Joanna by the door, where more guests were filing in.
‘Carlsberg please, love,’ Clarrie said to the barmaid when Luke had gone. She cast a look at the table where her old university friends were sharing a bottle of wine. ‘Er, no, actually, better make it a white wine. Large.’
She glanced around the Devonshire Hotel bar while she waited for her wine. It was large and luscious, nothing like the places she usually went drinking. Too bright, too plush, too many chandeliers. And there was nowhere to hide.
But it was fine. She could do this. She was twenty-six, for God’s sake! Why the hell should a room full of strangers fill her with blind panic?
Not for the first time since arriving, she wished Si was there. She wished any of them were. The invitation had said plus one, and she knew any of the boys, or Gem, would gladly have come with her, especially when they’d spotted the words ‘FREE BAR’ in welcoming foil-embossed capitals at the bottom. But she’d decided to come alone, because she knew if she could do this, just this one ordinary thing that all normal, well-adjusted adult humans could cope with easily, she was at least making some progress towards fixing herself.
For the other people in the room, this was a party. For Clarrie, it was a test.
She glanced again at AJ and Danielle, trying to summon the nerve to approach them. Would they even remember her? They’d been Luke’s friends really, not hers. Actually, Luke aside, she didn’t have any friends she was still in touch with from uni days.
She’d felt like a bit of a fish out of water the whole three years she’d been away studying, to be honest. York had seemed like an alien world, one where people spoke and thought and acted differently to the way they did at home. Clarrie had missed her mum, her friends, the familiar comfort of her life back in Denworth, and the anxiety she’d always been prey to had cranked itself up a couple of notches.
Luke had been her anchor, the only real friend she’d made in the whole of the three years. Even then, if it hadn’t been for regular visits from Si – studying History in Sheffield an hour’s drive away – and her other friends from back home, she’d have seriously considered dropping out. After graduating, while Luke and the others had sought out new lives in the big cities, Clarrie hadn’t been able to run back to Denworth fast enough.
She and Si had been the only ones who’d gone away to study: Sonny had applied for a place at Bradford so he could live at home, and Dave and Gemma had gone straight into work after A-Levels. As soon as Clarrie got home, it felt like everything had gone back to how it was supposed to be – back to the quizzes, Gem and the boys, Si jokingly asking her out. University had almost felt like a dream, something that had happened to someone else.
But it hadn’t. Clutching her wine in a white-knuckled fist, Clarrie screwed her courage to the sticking-place and made her way to a pair of faces she hadn’t seen for five years.
‘Um, hi,’ she said.
‘Hi.’ AJ smiled absently, barely looking up from what appeared to be an in-depth conversation with his wife.
‘Mind if I join you?’
‘Be our guest,’ he said, looking puzzled.
‘Thanks, AJ.’
Alerted to the fact this wasn’t just some random stranger, AJ finally made eye contact. ‘Oh, sorry. Have we met?’
‘We were at uni together. Literature of the Heroic Age seminars? I was Luke’s girlfriend.’
‘Of course. Sorry, I didn’t recognise you. You changed your, er… hair.’
‘Luke’s girlfriend? Oh my God!’ The bashful-looking red-haired woman at his side clapped both hands to her mouth. ‘Clarrie Midwinter!’
‘Last time I checked,’ Clarrie said with a grin, sinking into a seat opposite them. ‘Hiya, Danielle.’
‘Oh, it’s so good to see you! Luke never said you were coming. Gosh, I haven’t seen you since graduation.’ Her eyes widened in sudden horror. ‘Oh, how rude to call you by your maiden name! Of course you’ve married since then, haven’t you?’
‘Um, no. Not that I noticed.’
Danielle looked puzzled. ‘Aren’t you married? I thought… I mean, your profile picture on Facebook. You’ve had it years, so – well, I assumed that must be your husband. Is it your boyfriend?’
Clarrie laughed. ‘No, just my friend Si. I use it because it’s the only selfie where I don’t seem to be doing some weird face thing. We’re not a couple.’
Danielle looked relieved she hadn’t put her foot in it. ‘Suppose I should have guessed. He’s very attractive, isn’t he?’
‘And doesn’t he know it?’ Clarrie smiled wryly as she took a long draft of her wine. ‘Thanks, Dani.’
Danielle’s eyes widened again. ‘Oh, and I’ve done it again. Honestly, Clarrie, I didn’t mean to insult you. I just meant…’ She trailed off. ‘It was an observation, that’s all,’ she mumbled. ‘I wasn’t suggesting he was out of your league or anything.’
Clarrie took pity on her blushes. ‘Oh, don’t worry about it. I already won social gaffe of the evening when I asked the bride if she was pregnant, so you’ve got a long way to go to catch up yet.’
She frowned. ‘Jo’s pregnant?’
‘No. Well, I don’t think so. Just a joke that backfired.’
‘So any kids for you, Clarrie?’ AJ asked.
‘Christ, no! Seriously, can you imagine? I can’t even keep a pot plant alive.’ She laughed nervously, embarrassed by the vehemence of her answer. ‘How about you two?’
Danielle flushed. It was then that Clarrie noticed only AJ was drinking the bottle of wine she’d assumed they were sharing. His wife was on orange juice.
‘Oh!’ Clarrie said. ‘Oh, right, so you’re… wow. Okay. Well, congrats and all that jazz. I mean, well done on your successful breeding, guys. Good job.’ She shot them a thumbs-up and AJ blushed into his wine, apparently overwhelmed by this touching compliment to his virility.
Danielle didn’t seem embarrassed though. She giggled.
‘You know, you haven’t changed at all, Clarrie. You were always so…’
‘Weird?’
‘I was going to say funny.’ She reached under the table for her handbag. ‘Do you want to see my ultrasound? We just had the scan last week.’
Great. Ultrasounds. Baby pics were bad enough. Trying to seem enthusiastic as proud parents-to-be boasted about how their adorable Area-51 foetus had his daddy’s ickle-pickle nose/feet/penis (delete as appropriate) was a hundred times worse.
‘That sounds lovely,’ Clarrie said brightly.
Two hours later, Danielle had not only shown Clarrie her ultrasound, photos of her twentillion cute-as-buttons nephews and nieces and given her a blow by blow account of every sexual position she’d tried with AJ in their efforts to conceive, she’d also drawn a diagram – with some pretty impressive anatomical detail – on the back of a napkin detailing the exact angle of penetration she thought had finally done the deed.
Clarrie was starting to feel slightly queasy. She’d long finished her second white wine, and, taking advantage of AJ leaving them alone to their ‘girl talk’, had started helping herself to his red.
‘… anyway, it was really temperature that was key in the end,’ Danielle told her in a confidential murmur.
‘Temperature. Okay.’
‘I used a thermometer so I always knew the optimum time during ovulation.’ She giggled. ‘Of course, as soon as it was peak time we were at it like rabbits. AJ said if I hadn’t got pregnant when I did, we’d have had to invest in a new mattress.’
‘Bedsprings took a bit of a pounding, did they?’
Danielle looked coyly to both sides to make sure no one else was listening, then gave a shy nod. ‘And then there were his testicles.’
‘Mmm-hmm, testicles—’ Clarrie looked up from her wine. ‘Sorry, what?’
‘His testicles. They had to be optimum too, of course.’
‘They had to be…’ She blinked. ‘How do you get optimum testicles, Dani?’
‘Well, he—’ She clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a titter, then lowered her voice even further. ‘I read it in this article on alternative methods for conception, and we’d been trying so long, anything seemed worth a go. He started soaking them for half an hour in lukewarm water first. To get the sperm swimming.’
Clarrie glanced at the nibbles she’d grabbed from the buffet earlier. Suddenly they weren’t looking too appetising. She rolled a couple of miniature Scotch eggs to the edge of her plate.
‘Anyway, it worked,’ Danielle said, proudly stroking her little bump. ‘Or something did. I’m so sorry it hasn’t happened for you yet, Clarrie.’
Clarrie shuddered. ‘I’m bloody well not.’
Danielle blinked. ‘But you will want kids eventually, won’t you? When you meet the right person, I mean?’
‘Well, I… it just seems…’ She gave up and knocked back the last of her third large wine. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’
‘It’s been great to catch up anyway,’ Danielle said. ‘We really should see more of each other now we’re proper friends. You know, I always wished we could have been closer, back at uni. You were such fun.’
And Clarrie could tell she meant it.
She felt awful. A sweet girl, an old friend – old acquaintance anyway – was sharing something personal and life-changing with her, and all she could feel was terrified. Terrified of saying the wrong thing, or making some stupid ill-judged joke that would have Danielle hating her forever, just like Joanna probably did. And all this talk of babies was freaking her right out.
What the hell was wrong with her? Everyone else could do this stuff. They made it look easy.
She wondered what Si would say to all the baby talk. Some compliment, something flirty and careless. And Danielle would giggle and simper the way girls always did for him; the way that drove Clarrie crazy.
She wished he was there.
He’d see she was anxious. She knew exactly what he’d do. Reach for her hand under the table. ‘You okay, kiddo? Want to get out of here and go for a pint?’ And she’d squeeze the hand gratefully, and everything would be okay. He never quite understood how scared she was sometimes, but he always knew what to do to make her better.
‘Haven’t got a cig, have you?’ she asked Danielle. Right now she felt like she needed to either smoke or cry; preferably both.
Danielle frowned. ‘Well, no.’
‘Oh.’ Clarrie glanced down at Danielle’s tummy. ‘No, course not. Look, I… you mind if I just nip out for some fresh air? It’s a bit stifling in here.’
‘Of course not. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. Just need a time out, that’s all.’ She patted Danielle’s arm. ‘I really am pleased for you, Dani. You’re a nice person and you deserve nice things.’
Ugh. Clumsy, ridiculous thing to say. But Danielle looked touched, so hopefully she understood.
Clarrie pushed back her chair, trying desperately to fight down the encroaching panic. A band had started up, and her head span as she weaved through the red and green disco lights darting over the floor. Her heart thudded in her throat. The door seemed so far away, but she had to get out, had to get away, before it happened again…
She felt a sharp tap on her shoulder as she passed the dance floor, and turned to find Luke frowning at her.
‘Oh. Hi, Luke. Was just going for a breather.’ He’d never been a smoker but it seemed worth asking. ‘You don’t have a spare cig on you, do you?’
‘Never mind that. What the hell have you been saying about Jo?’ he demanded. ‘She’s up in our suite bawling her eyes out. Not exactly the wedding night I’d dreamed of, if I’m totally honest.’
‘Me? Not a word!’
‘Yeah? Then why is there a rumour going round that she’s pregnant?’
She blinked at him. ‘Luke, I swear, I never started any rumour. I told AJ and Danielle I’d made a gaffe about it, that’s all. I was trying to make Dani feel better about something she said.’
‘Well, somebody must’ve got the wrong end of the stick because it’s all over the bloody reception now. I’ve just had a seriously awkward conversation with my mum.’
‘God, I’m so sorry. It was an accident, I never thought—’
‘No. You never do think, do you?’ He turned away. ‘I need to go to Jo, try to talk her down. Thanks a lot, Clar. Seriously, thanks a fucking bunch.’ And he strode off towards the stairs.
She pushed her way through the rest of the crowd to the exit, blinded by tears. Outside, she stumbled towards the fountain pumping out foamy jets of water in the middle of the hotel courtyard, slumped onto one of the steps at its base and broke into sobs.
There was a tinny buzzing throbbing through her overheated brain, like she’d landed a plane without her ears popping and then been pushed off a high diving board. She struggled to ground herself, to kick up through the cloying treacle-water into sweet, fresh air. Under her breath she muttered an affirmation she’d found in one of the anxiety leaflets her mum had given her, forcing her ragged pants into deep, measured breaths. ‘I’m safe, I’m calm; I’m safe, I’m calm…’
The affirmation was bugger all use but the deep breathing helped. After ten minutes, her heart rate started to slow, the threat of hyperventilation subsided and she felt able to tap out a text.
Couldn’t do it. Come get me, please. I’ll be the human wreckage collapsed in a heap out front with my dress up round my arse.
She knew it’d be at least half an hour till he arrived. She also knew she should go back inside, explain to Danielle why she’d disappeared and beg forgiveness from Luke and Joanna for upsetting them on their wedding day. But she couldn’t. All she could do was sit and hug her knees, feeling useless.
She’d tested herself, and she’d failed. Even at this most basic of tasks, she’d failed. If she couldn’t manage a simple wedding reception without going into meltdown, how could she ever make a go of a relationship? And as for kids… not a hope. It felt like she was barely holding her own life together, let alone having someone else depend on her.
‘Thanks for coming to get me,’ she mumbled when she felt someone slide down next to her and stretch an arm around her shoulders.
Sonny shrugged. ‘Best offer I’m likely to get tonight. How come you didn’t text Si?’
‘Him and Dave are watching the racing. Didn’t want to disturb them.’
He leaned round to examine her face. ‘And the real reason?’
She sniffed. ‘There was conversation. Scary baby conversation. With unpleasantly detailed diagrams. I couldn’t talk about it with Si after—’ She bit her lip. ‘Things are a bit weird with us two at the moment.’
He guided her head down to his shoulder. ‘Want to talk about it with me?’
‘No.’
‘Yeah you do.’
She sniffed again, rubbing her bare arms in the chill night air.
‘Here,’ Sonny said, wriggling out of his jacket and draping it over her shoulders.
She smiled weakly as she snuggled into it. ‘Aren’t you the little gent tonight?’
‘As always.’ He put his arm back round her. ‘So what set you off this time?’
She snuffled into his shoulder. ‘I ruined everyone’s night, Sonny. Should never’ve come.�
��
‘Come on, you’re exaggerating.’
‘Okay, well, the bride left in tears because of me, and the groom, the only ex I had who didn’t hate me, never wants to see me again. Still think I’m exaggerating?’
‘Oh. Maybe not then.’ He gave her shoulders a squeeze. ‘And that’s what brought on The Fear, is it?’
‘No, that was the pregnancy talk. Proper gruesome. I swear, if I never have to picture an old friend dangling his nadgers in tepid water again, it’ll be too soon.’
‘Well, there goes my Saturday night.’ Sonny dipped his head to look into her eyes. ‘You need to see someone about this, you know,’ he said gently. ‘It’s getting worse.’
She snorted. ‘What could they do? Affirmations? Breathing exercises? I know all that stuff, Sonny. Doesn’t help.’
‘They could get at what’s causing it, couldn’t they? Doctors can do that. You could go for that Cognitive Behavioural Therapy – you know, like counselling. One of my cousins is having it now.’
‘No, I… I couldn’t see a doctor. I’m fine anyway, most of the time. When I’m with you lot.’
‘But you can’t always be with us lot, can you? And what about the boyfriends? Ed, Olly, Luke?’
‘What about them?’
‘Whether you meant to or not, Clar, you’ve sabotaged every relationship you’ve ever had. Because of this. You’ll never be happy while you’re letting it rule your life.’
‘You’re a web designer, Sonny, not a psychiatrist.’
‘I’m also your mate, and I want to see you stop buggering your life up.’
Clarrie sighed. ‘Might be too late for that.’ She turned wet eyes up to him. ‘You won’t tell Si about this, will you?’
A Question of Us Page 7
