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When I Knew You

Page 7

by KE Payne


  Since when had Nat turned into the sophisticated woman she’d just spent the day with? Ash stared down at her feet, brooding. True, she’d always had class, but age had just made her classier than ever. And so beautiful. Ash studied the label on her bottle. So beautiful. She shook her head, smiling at herself. Even after all this time, there was no one to match Nat. Never had been. People like Nat only came along once in a blue moon, and that was what had made their parting so painful. Ash had known at the time she was lucky to have Nat as a girlfriend. As far as Ash was concerned, Nat could have had anyone she’d wanted in school. But she’d chosen Ash. She’d chosen her. Then she’d chosen to finish with her, just like that. Ash’s frown deepened and she drank back some more beer, as if to swallow down the resentment that was threatening to rise up inside her again.

  Her phone rang inside her pocket, making her jump. When she saw Gabe’s name illuminated, her relief was palpable.

  “You saved me,” she said, once she’d answered.

  “From what?” Gabe’s voice was like a steadying hand on her arm.

  “From myself.” Ash laughed. “And my thoughts.”

  “Beware the demon thoughts,” Gabe said. “How was Oxford? Full of clever people?”

  “Oxford was…actually okay,” Ash replied.

  “You didn’t tip Nat out of the boat?”

  “Not once.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Didn’t even try.”

  “Have a Gabe gold star.” Gabe laughed.

  “We’re going to the theatre tonight,” Ash said. “Some drama at the Barbican.” And, boy, hadn’t they taken forever to choose just the right play to see.

  “You’ve been London-ized.” Ash imagined Gabe, ever the drama queen, clutching at his chest. “This is another Livvy wish, yes?”

  “Mm,” Ash replied. “Another thing we always said we’d do but never got round to doing.”

  “Did you pack a posh outfit?”

  “What do you think?” Ash stared down at her legs. “Chinos are okay for the theatre, right?”

  Despite the tiredness of the day muddying her brain, Ash had, to her surprise, managed to leave a small pocket of it free to devote itself to think about her evening’s clothes. Even if they did only stretch to navy chinos and a patterned top that matched it perfectly.

  “Guess you’ll find out when you get there,” Gabe replied, not altogether helpfully, Ash thought.

  Nat, Ash was sure, wouldn’t be wearing chinos tonight. She glanced at her legs again, then to the clock on the wall of her room. Too late to bomb into town and buy something smarter? Ash sighed. Way too late.

  “She’ll have to take me as she finds me,” Ash said, unthinking.

  “Who?”

  “Nat.”

  “You care?”

  “Nope.” Ash rubbed her temple. Yes, she cared. “I don’t want to look a total scruff-pot, that’s all.”

  “You’ll look beautiful,” Gabe said soothingly. “You always do.” He paused. “Do that thing with your eyes that makes me go all hetero. You know, when you make them up all dark and lovely.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Chicken, with your hair and skin tone, trust me—no one will notice whether you’re wearing chinos or not.” Gabe laughed. “You’ll knock Nat sideways.”

  “Who says I want to impress Nat?”

  “Your tone implies it,” Gabe replied, his mischievous note not going unnoticed by Ash.

  “If anything,” Ash said, rising from her bed, “I want Nat to know I can still look good, even if I do spend my days mucking about on stinky boats.” She glanced down at her weathered, tanned hands and stubbed fingernails. “So if that means slapping on a bit of eyeliner, then I guess I’ll do it.”

  “And if it impresses her, all the better?” Gabe offered.

  “Far from it.” Ash walked to the mirror and looked at her reflection. “I went there once before and got burned.” She stared into her own eyes. “When it comes to Nat, there’s most definitely no going back.”

  ❖

  Nat fussed with the hem of her jacket, wishing, for the umpteenth time since she’d left her apartment and headed across London, that she didn’t feel quite so trussed up. She’d bought it on a whim, on her way back to her apartment that afternoon, and now it struck her as ludicrously formal. Why she’d chosen to buy something so starchy was anyone’s guess. After all, did anyone even bother dressing for the theatre these days? She looked over to Chloe, dressed as you’d expect any normal teenager to dress for a night out watching a play. Chloe looked cool and comfortable, the polar opposite to how Nat was feeling.

  “She’s late.” Nat lifted her head and squinted over the sea of heads milling about the theatre’s foyer.

  “No, she’s not,” Chloe replied. “We’re early.”

  “Are we?” Nat looked at her watch. It seemed as though they’d been waiting for Ash for hours. Or did anticipation just make it feel like hours? “Which station’s she coming from again?”

  “I told her Moorgate,” Chloe replied. “Depends if she’s coming straight from her hotel or whether she’s already in town.” She laughed. “You know Ash. She’ll have been in a bar somewhere ever since we left her earlier.”

  You know Ash.

  Nat stared, unthinking, ahead of her. So hanging out in a bar was typical of Ash, was it? When was the last time Nat had gone to a bar alone? Actually, scrap that. When was the last time she’d even set foot in one? That had never been Richard’s thing. Had anything ever been Richard’s thing? She lifted her eyes to the sky. That was always what she’d loved about Ash: her confidence and her sociability. At school, everyone had loved her, and while Nat had been just as popular, there had always been something about Ash that had made her stand out more. Ash could walk into anyplace she liked and brighten it up instantly. When they were together, it had always been Ash who could stride into a place oozing confidence, while Nat had always been the one walking just a few paces behind, letting Ash do all the talking. Ash had never once had any inhibitions about anything, but Nat had never been like that, and certainly never later in life when she’d been with Richard.

  But then, everything with Richard had been an act.

  “Hey, guys.”

  Thoughts of Richard melted into the crowd around her as Nat turned her head and saw Ash, standing next to her. Her stomach balled tight at the sight of her.

  “Ash.” Nat shook her head. “I was miles away. Sorry.” She smiled.

  “Been here long?” Ash, Nat noted, addressed Chloe more than her.

  “Five minutes or so,” Chloe replied.

  Nat glanced at Ash, taking in the chinos, biker boots, and battered jacket, and felt her own jacket sitting even more formally about her shoulders. She felt like an old maid in comparison to Ash and resolved there and then to pull her wardrobe apart when she got home and throw out anything that made her look as awful as she was sure she looked tonight.

  While Ash spoke with Chloe, Nat watched her. Ash’s hair was different tonight: sleeker and straighter than it had been earlier. She’d darkened her eyes too, Nat noted. Just how she’d always loved them. Her dark eyes, combined with her different hairstyle, gave Ash a casual look. A typical Ash-doesn’t-give-a-damn air.

  And Nat loved it.

  While Ash and Chloe talked, Nat found she couldn’t pull her eyes from Ash. She was standing, hands in her pockets, smooth hair falling about her eyes, her flawless honey-coloured skin making her look the picture of health. Nat thought in that moment she’d never looked so good, but she also knew, from experience, that Ash had no idea just how good she looked. That had always been her style, right from an early age. Scruffy but cool. Casual but put-together. Turning heads without even knowing it.

  “Isn’t it?” Chloe was talking. How long had she been addressing her?

  “Isn’t it what?” Nat was sure her face had reddened.

  “Supposed to be, like, the play to see right now?” Chloe asked.

  �
�The one we’re about to see?”

  “Well, durr,” Chloe replied playfully. “Yes, the one we’re about to see.”

  “Yes. Of course.” Nat pulled herself straighter. She was being stupid, she knew. Just because Ash had rocked up looking like she’d just stepped off the cover of a magazine didn’t mean Nat had to lose all rational thought. “Shall we go in?” She moved away.

  “She’s tired.” Nat heard Chloe talking to Ash. “That’s why she’s away with the fairies.”

  Nat walked on in through the foyer, her mind in turmoil.

  If only it was as simple as plain tiredness.

  ❖

  The darkness of the auditorium wrapped itself around Ash like a blanket. As she sank down into her seat, her long legs just touching the seat in front of her, a contentment settled over her. Much to her surprise, the day hadn’t been as gut-wrenching as she’d thought it might have been. Oxford was okay. London was bearable, as was Nat. While Chloe talked ten to the dozen next to her, Ash shifted slightly in her chair and stole a look to Nat from the safety of the other side of Chloe, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue as Nat absorbed herself in the theatre programme. Ash only had half an ear on Chloe, chattering about a boy at school who was blowing hot and cold on her and who was also in the audience and whom she desperately wanted to avoid. Ash knew she should be listening more. Her mind, however, was focused on Nat.

  There had been no bitterness at seeing Nat again, no regret, no sadness, and only a handful of memories to nudge Ash and remind her just what Nat had meant to her, once upon a time. The day had been cathartic. Ash knew that now. If she’d thought that morning, when she’d been choked with nerves at the prospect of being with Nat again, dreading what reaction seeing her would fire in her, that twelve hours later she’d be sitting in a theatre feeling as relaxed as she did now, she’d have never believed it.

  Neither would Gabe, she thought with a wry smile.

  Ash rested back into her seat and stared ahead of her to the stage, still cloaked with its velvet curtains. But they hadn’t talked all day, her and Nat. Well, not talked talked. Perhaps they should. Wasn’t that what old friends did? Ash’s smile deepened in the dark.

  Old friends.

  She wondered how much Livvy had told Nat about her. Did she want Nat to know anything about her life? Was it even important, bearing in mind she and Nat would be strangers to one another again in less than two weeks?

  Ash’s thought process had arrived too late. As the curtain rose and the first sharp footsteps rapped across the stage, any thoughts of Nat slowly spiralled like a thin wisp of smoke up to the auditorium’s ceiling.

  ❖

  “He was great.”

  “Which one?” Ash placed a hand on Chloe’s back and guided her through the crowds in the theatre foyer.

  “The bloke from the telly.”

  “The detective?”

  “Yeah.” Chloe allowed Ash to steer her towards the exit. “How did he remember all his lines?”

  “Who knows?” Ash laughed. “I have trouble remembering my shopping list sometimes.”

  She threw a look back over her shoulder to Nat, picking her way carefully through the crowds towards them.

  “Okay?” she called.

  Nat nodded, a hint of surprise, Ash thought, flickering across her face.

  Once safely back out on the street, Ash pulled her jacket closer around her against the chill night air. She glanced at her watch: 10.30 p.m. The street where the theatre sat heaved with people. Rowdy pub drinkers intermingled with the more sedate theatregoers. Lights twinkled against a clear inky-black autumn sky, and loud voices and laughter bubbled out from the bars and restaurants that lined the street, whilst a seemingly never-ending procession of night buses ebbed and flowed up and down the road.

  Saturday night in London. Ash looked about her, missing the peace and quiet of Cornwall with each excitable person that brushed past her. This wasn’t her any more. Her life was now so far removed from any of this, it was astonishing to think she’d ever lived in London.

  “Do you want to go to a bar somewhere?” Chloe asked.

  Ash leaned in to her to hear her above the noise.

  “You’re fourteen,” she replied, more sternly than she’d intended. “So, no.”

  “And you berated me earlier today for wanting to travel with her on the train.” Nat raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s the fussy auntie?” A hint of a smile passed her lips.

  Ash looked at her steadily. “There’s a world of difference.”

  “Is there?”

  “Yes.” Ash held her stare, but unlike earlier that day, there was a smile behind her look.

  Nat returned her smile. “I’m joking with you,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to take her to a bar either.” She paused. “Anyway, haven’t you seen enough bars today?”

  Ash looked at her, confused.

  “Earlier,” Chloe said, “when we were waiting for you. I said you’d be hanging out somewhere.”

  “Wouldn’t be seen dead in one.” Ash looked across the sea of heads and shuddered. “Not my scene any more.”

  “Ah, I forgot you’re all about the clean living now.” Chloe linked her arm through Ash’s. “You’re all boats and sea and fresh air these days.”

  “Well, as the three beers I had in my hotel earlier will testify,” Ash said, “not as clean as you think.”

  She caught Nat’s eye and winked, then dropped her eyes as she saw Nat hastily look away, colour spreading across her cheeks.

  “We should go,” Nat said, moving away. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Of course.” Ash watched Nat’s retreating back. Ash noticed her entire body was tense and she wondered if she found her annoying, or if she was as unhappy at being placed in this situation as she was.

  Ash unlinked her arm from Chloe’s and followed after Nat, feeling foolish. Why had she winked? Nat had looked so embarrassed. Too friendly? Perhaps. After all, they were essentially strangers to one another again.

  And strangers they’d stay.

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday morning broke, sunny and dry. Nat’s socked feet scuffed a muffled rhythm against her carpet as she mooched about her apartment, cradling her second coffee of the morning. She thought of Chloe, a long stone’s throw away over at Judy’s house in Wimbledon, regaling her with tales of punting and plays, and smiled to herself.

  Chloe was great. More than that, she’d proved herself to be a steadying influence the previous day, once again showing a maturity that was far beyond her years. Nat had been grateful for her company too. For constantly taking her mind off her nerves at seeing Ash again, and for intervening whenever the conversation dried up over the course of the day. She’d been just the distraction Nat had needed, the third person required to keep everything flowing. Of course, without Chloe, there would have been no visit to Oxford or the West End, but Nat was grateful nevertheless. And she’d enjoyed herself too. Far more than her nausea the previous morning that had prevented her from even contemplating breakfast would have had her believe.

  Today was a new day, with a new request from Livvy. Nat sought out her letter, placed in readiness on her coffee table the night before. It would be another day in London; after all, that was Livvy’s wish for this week. But where? Nat placed her now-empty coffee cup on her mantelpiece and reached for the letter. She sat down. Dearest Crackles, it began.

  How was the theatre? I hope you didn’t all have drinks at the interval. West End theatre prices are so overinflated, and I’m afraid I only supplied enough ££s for the play itself. Was it enough? I do hope so.

  So, another day dawns, and with that comes another wish from yours truly. I was thinking, as I was lying in bed today (not much else to do) that in all the years we lived in London, we never visited the Tate, yet it was one of the things that was at the top of my wish list when I was sixteen. Why did we never go? The coolest art gallery in all of London and we never went. Last year I promised to
take Chloe and show her some of Dali’s stuff there because she studied Dali at school in year nine last year and I thought she’d enjoy it.

  We never made it there.

  Will you fulfil that promise to her? She’ll love it, and you and Flash can explain all the complicated paintings to her because you’re both hideously clever.

  It’s free to get in, but Mum has money for you for eats, so you can get that off her when you go to collect Chloe. Give Mum a hug from me when you see her?

  Until letter number four,

  Livvy xxx

  Nat placed the letter on her knees, then linked her hands behind her head and rested against the back of her sofa. She closed her eyes. The Tate Modern. Hideous, and absolutely not her cup of tea. Nat opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. She doubted it would be Ash’s either, if her taste in art had remained the same over the years. True, Livvy had pestered them to visit the Tate when they’d been at school, but she and Ash had always made an excuse not to go. But now? Now they were adults and had to step up to the plate for Livvy and Chloe. A huge smile escaped Nat’s lips as she imagined the look on Ash’s face when she too read her letter.

  Automatically, Nat reached for her phone and scrolled down until she found Ash’s number. Her blood pulsed warm under her skin as she heard the ringtone, her heart drumming a quicker beat the longer the phone rang out. Finally, Ash answered.

  “It’s me.” Nat grimaced. Of course it was her.

  “Hi.”

  “Did you read the…yeah, hi.” Nat cleared her throat. “You good?”

  “Well, I just woke up.” Ash sounded groggy. “But yeah, good. You?”

  “Shit, sorry. Did I wake you?” Nat sat up straighter. “What time is it? Is it early?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing she could start the whole conversation over again. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Ash chuckled. “It’s cool.”

  “Did you read the next letter?” Nat asked, wishing her voice didn’t sound so thin. “It’s why I’m ringing.”

 

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