by Nina Manning
‘A brandy?’
‘Of course.’ The maître d’ strode off towards the bar, said something authoritative and gesticulated towards the staff and they scarpered to opposite areas of the restaurant.
I sat wringing my hands and looking anxiously around.
The maître d’ returned with my brandy and I thanked him.
‘Madam, if there is anything else I can get you, do not hesitate to ask.’
‘I don’t suppose you could call me a taxi?’
‘Of course, madam.’
I slowly sipped the brandy while looking uneasily at the window.
A few minutes later I felt a hand on my shoulder.
‘Madam, your taxi, it is here now. Can I escort you to the car?’
‘Yes, please,’ I said eagerly. I was usually so street savvy but today I had no intention of walking an inch in the street alone.
He walked me to the cab and opened the door for me. ‘Goodnight, madam,’ he said and closed the door.
‘Where to, love?’ the cab driver asked. I sat for a moment and considered the last words Damian spoke to me, the way in which the meal ended and what would be waiting for me at home, the dreary aftermath of an argument, neither of us wanting to break the silence or apologise for what was said, instead each retreating to our own corners of the house, far away from disappointed looks and angry sighs.
Then I thought about the streets of the town tonight; people lurking in dark corners and alleyways. I leant forward and gave my home address to the driver.
I stole one last look behind me at the restaurant and the window where I was just sitting. As the car jerked and the diesel engine chugged into gear, I saw for a moment, there in the shadows of a shop doorway next door to the restaurant, the black hood, and as we turned the corner the person stepped forward out of the shadow, pulled down their hood and confirmed my fear.
Damian was slouched on the sofa when I got home, watching some war series on Netflix. He turned to look at me and for a moment I thought he would turn back to the TV, ignoring my presence.
‘Did I leave enough cash to cover the meal?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
I knew Damian had done a job recently for a friend who was setting up a business from scratch – he had helped him to design his website and install some safety aspects and so I knew that was his way of showing off what he had earned as well. I was having trouble working out what Damian wanted or where exactly he was at, right now, I couldn’t understand why he would want to spend his hard earned money on me while he was clearly sneaking around behind my back, but after our cross words I had no intention of furthering our discussion. If he had done something behind my back and in our room I wanted to have more proof than an earring and a secretive exchange in the neighbour’s garden. I had intuition and I could sense the changes we had gone through as a couple and the distance that was opening up between us, but I needed to know for certain.
‘Was Aimee okay?’ I thought about my last interaction with her and my face zoomed in on her laptop.
‘She seemed fine. I paid her the full amount.’
‘I’m sure she was very happy with that. I’m going to bed.’
Damian turned back to his TV show.
In our bedroom, I walked over to my dressing table, where I had put the pink crystal earring in a tiny pot I used for spares, and pulled it out again, I tried to imagine if Harriet seemed like the kind of woman to wear such a thing, whether her forties style would accommodate such bling.
It vexed me how Damian talked about my therapy and how I hadn’t done enough. The proof for me was sitting in that safe in my wardrobe, I poured out my feelings back then and then locked them away. Although the way the past seemed to suddenly be careering into my present, and with who I had just seen at the restaurant, along with the text messages, I knew it was time for me to seek closure.
33
September 1998
I had just started college so I calmed down on the midweek nights out. Todd was understanding of this, and when his parents had gone away on a minibreak to France, he invited a few friends round for a dinner party. Todd was cooking a mushroom tagliatelle. It felt like we were a proper couple. I wanted to prove more than anything to Kiefer that this was what Todd and I were about, making steps together, not just out raving every weekend. This felt like progress, the stuff real couples did.
Nancy and Minty were coming, which I was really happy about, and a couple of Todd’s other mates would be coming over too, which didn’t feel as nice because the two didn’t fit. Todd referred to them by their surnames, Soames and Lofty. Minty referred to them as Zig and Zag from our favourite breakfast TV show because they looked like a couple of pie-eyed gurners. I didn’t even know what their first names were. I only associated them with Todd out in the clubs or at a party getting wrecked. I wanted to have a relaxing dinner party where there would be chat over the food, someone would bring a pudding, Todd would pour wine and maybe we’d end with a spliff and a game of charades. None of my gang had our own flats or houses yet, so when someone’s parents went away it wasn’t just anyone who was invited over. It was only people you really trusted, who weren’t going to trash your house or do anything totally stupid. Which was why I was a little wary when I heard that Lofty and Soames were coming over. They weren’t close friends of Todd’s. They were dealers. Except they didn’t stop at pot. I could see it in their eyes, that vacant glaze. They looked as though they were well on the way to losing the plot.
I opened the fridge to put the white wine in to chill. Todd’s parents had one of those huge Smeg fridges with the Union Flag on it. Todd’s dad had said when he bought it a year ago, ‘Son, we are in the midst of a very important political and cultural epidemic and this fridge is my contribution to that.’
I asked Todd what his dad meant. Todd took my hand and said, ‘This is Cool Britannia we are living through. We are part of something. Can’t you feel it, Frank?’ he said as he held my hand, ‘In your heart, in your mind, when we’re in the club, it’s all around us.’
‘I just thought that was the drugs,’ I said, seriously enough that Todd laughed really loudly and then drew me in for a hug.
‘Oh, Frankie, you are so sweet.’
Todd still hadn’t actually said that we were an item, nor had he referred to me as his girlfriend. But we were spending every weekend together and now days like this during the week when his folks were away, so it felt as though we were, in fact, going out.
I went all out that night. I laid the table properly with a glass for wine and one for water like I did at the hotel. I folded the napkins and put a dessert spoon next to the knife and fork. Nancy and Minty were bringing a pavlova.
Todd came in just as I was finishing, his Timberland boots scuffing against the wooden floor of the dining room. He was smoking a spliff and handed it to me.
‘Wowsers, babe, cool. You’re a pro. Proper little wifey.’ He bent down and put his arms around my waist, he was a few inches taller than me. A giant of a man really, and stocky too. I smiled, and kissed him, inhaling the scent of him mixed with the alcohol and tobacco on his breath.
Nancy and Minty arrived bang on 6.30 p.m. carrying a bottle of red wine and their pudding offering, then we all stood in the kitchen sipping the wine and pretending to act like connoisseurs and saying things like ‘it has a good nose’ and ‘notes of raspberry and chocolate’.
Todd started to cook the tagliatelle while Nancy and I sat on the sofa in the lounge. I gave her all the gossip on Todd and I, and she about herself and Minty. We barely saw one another these days without the boys there too, so we began making plans for a girls’ day shopping, plotting our trip starting at the Body Shop for lip balms and then Our Price for some music and Dolcis for some knee high boots for the winter.
Time was ticking on. I felt certain Soames and Lofty wouldn’t show, and felt a surge of relief when Todd called us in for dinner and we all settled around the table. We got stuck into the pasta. I stole intermittent glances at T
odd which he caught and then smiled at me.
‘Oh my God, this is so good, Todd,’ Minty said. ‘Fair play, man, I can’t cook for shit.’
‘Yeah, that’s why we eat so many burgers. I am going to turn into a burger,’ Nancy scoffed.
‘We don’t eat that many burgers, babes?’ Minty said.
Nancy laughed. ‘Oh no, just the three times last week, four if you include McDonald’s.’
‘The best burgers,’ Todd and Minty said in unison and clinked their wine glasses. I shot a look at Nancy and we both smiled. I looked at Todd. He appeared so relaxed, this seemed like the real him. I had completely forgotten about the other invited guests until the doorbell rang. I felt my body physically shrink down and dread hit the pit of my stomach. I looked at Nancy who gave me a look of sympathy.
Todd jumped straight up and went out to the hallway. I could hear the muffled deep voices of Soames and Lofty.
They came through and sat down at the table, Minty stood up and shook their hands in his usual infectiously jovial manner, apparently unperturbed by the invasion of our party of four.
Soames was small and fidgety. He had a rough little beard that was neither stubble nor fully grown. He always wore a black beanie cap. Lofty was tall and blond, with pointy features; he wore a sports sweatshirt with light denim jeans, white sports socks and Nike trainers. They were an odd looking couple, yet rarely seen apart. They both nodded their greetings at me and Nancy as they got comfortable, and Lofty instantly began skinning up at the table. I shifted in my seat and tried to suppress a sigh, but it came out anyway. Lofty looked up at me slowly, acknowledging my despair. I wanted to scream at them to get out, to tell them they were ruining what was a civilised dinner party. Todd offered them a plate of tagliatelle, but they declined. Minty offered them a glass of red, but they both asked Todd if he had any beer. With Todd headed into the kitchen I took a moment to steal a glance at Nancy, who breathed in really hard and widened her eyes at me.
‘So, why do they call you Minty then?’ Soames asked out of the blue and with a hint of laughter in his voice.
Minty went on to explain how he was actually called Paul Hodgkinson, but he was always eating polo mints, at least he was when we all first met him, and that’s how he got his nickname which stuck and now it’s just who he is.
Todd returned with three beers and I found myself narrowing my eyes at him for switching to beer after we were all having a nice time on the wine. If Todd noticed he didn’t make an issue of it. Soames sniggered at nothing in particular and I found the atmosphere, which had been warm and pleasant, was now prickly and uncomfortable. He licked his rizla and looked at me as he did, the tip of his little pink tongue just visible. I turned away in disgust.
‘Come on, Nance, let’s clear these away,’ I said and we left the dining room and returned with the pavlova. Todd, who had said he was looking forward to it, was now wiping his nose and shaking his head as Nancy cut it up and offered him a slice. I looked at Minty for confirmation. He squeezed his lips tightly and began eating his pudding. I didn’t need to ask him to know he had seen cocaine disappear up the noses of Soames, Lofty and Todd in the time we had been in the kitchen.
We retired to the lounge, Nancy and I got out the Scrabble, toked on a spliff between us and fell about laughing at the darkness of the words that Nancy was putting on the board.
I tried to catch Todd’s eyes a few times but he was chatting animatedly with Soames and waving a spliff around. Lofty went to the hifi and put on a mix tape from his pocket, then Todd and him were off, dancing like nutters.
Eventually Nancy and I gave up trying to play a chilled board game and slouched into one of the oversized couches with a beer each.
‘No hot rocks on my folks’ rugs,’ Todd slurred, pointing with a spliff which instantly dropped a huge rock onto an old and expensive looking red and black oriental rug.
‘What the…?’ Todd said, falling to his knees and blowing at the rock which had already burned out, leaving a small charred hole behind.
Lofty’s loud high-pitched laugh punctured the air.
Soames called Todd over to a chair in the corner of the lounge. We ignored them for a while, carried on talking, but then Minty pointed and I could see Lofty was holding some aluminium foil with a lighter underneath and Todd was bending down and inhaling vapour through a small tube.
‘I reckon it’s time to say goodnight. That shit is too heavy even for me.’ Minty stood up and Nancy followed.
‘Sorry, Frank, do you want us to stay, or come with us?’
‘No, it’s fine,’ I said quickly. ‘I’ll stay, make sure he’s okay.’
I walked them to the door. Minty went first and Nancy stood on the step. ‘It’s not okay, Frank, what he’s doing. He could end up an addict.’
‘I know,’ I hissed, ‘I’ll keep an eye on it.’
‘It’s not your responsibility,’ she said, and turned and went down the step.
I closed the door and went back into the lounge where Todd was completely comatose on the chair. Lofty and Soames were standing up.
‘We’re off,’ Lofty said and patted my arm. ‘Take care, sweetheart.’
Soames just looked at me with those dark glassy eyes.
I spent the night asleep at Todd’s feet. When he finally woke at 6 a.m. he was disorientated and panicky. I got him some water and took him up to bed.
‘You’re a great girlfriend,’ Todd said groggily as he fell into a slumber. I lay awake next to him all morning, watching him sleep, and despite the let-down of the evening, I felt high on love.
34
Now
On Monday morning I had been sitting at my desk for twenty-five minutes when Lil and Fish arrived and walked over.
‘Tell us, how was it? Did you have a great time? I’ve always wanted to go to Belgium. Babes, shall we go to Ghent next year? It looks amazing,’ Lil said to Fish who nodded in approval.
‘I was mostly in meetings, chatting to clients, that sort of thing,’ I said.
Mine and Lil’s eyes met; she smiled awkwardly and then slipped her hand through Fish’s arm.
‘Oh, come on, you can’t ignore that Belgian beer – my God, I would have been downing that by the bucket load,’ Fish laughed, rescuing me from Lil’s look.
‘Well, that’s because you have no decorum,’ I said flatly.
‘Yeah right, fair play,’ Fish joined in when he finally understood the flavour of my response.
‘Well,’ Lil said, raising her eyebrows. ‘So glad you had a nice time. Come on, Fish.’ She pulled at his arm. As they walked away, Lil shot me a quick look over her shoulder. I shook my head in bewilderment.
Penelope arrived at her desk opposite mine. She looked tired and gaunt.
‘Morning, Penelope,’ I said loudly to her back.
‘Morning,’ Penelope said quietly, turning my way slightly as she carried on unpacking items from her bag. ‘How was Belgium?’
‘Yeah, it was great, and we nailed a couple of deals too,’ I said cheerily.
‘Oh, well done,’ Penelope said, without much enthusiasm.
She then turned around, faced my desk and looked directly at me.
‘And your kids? Were they happy to have their mummy back?’
I was taken aback. Penelope was never usually so forthcoming. I could see now I was looking at her that her eyes looked a little red and bloodshot. I couldn’t find the confidence to ask her if she was okay.
‘Daddy kept them busy and I was only gone a couple of days,’ I said and tried not to narrow my eyes, but after Lil’s funny look and detecting malice in Penelope’s tone, I was beginning to wonder if the women in this office were jealous of my relationships with my male colleagues.
‘Well, that’s just lovely. You should bring them into the office one day. I’d love to meet them.’
I smiled. ‘Did you ever think about having kids?’ I had been reluctant to ask, but with Penelope taking an interest in mine, I was suddenly intrigued.
>
Penelope paused before answering.
‘Do you know what, Frankie. I would have loved kids. But someone took that choice away from me.’ Penelope looked at me for a second and then she tilted her head towards the ceiling. I looked up, wondering if she had spotted a leak, then I realised she must be talking about God.
‘Right.’ I sat rooted to the spot and just nodded earnestly.
‘Anyway. Mason behaved himself, did he?’ she asked when I thought the conversation was over.
I felt my heart thud and my face redden. ‘What do you mean?’ I felt as though I were unable to conceal any of the shame.
‘I mean, the man likes a drink. He didn’t get you up dancing on any tables or walking the streets until dawn?’
I laughed a feeble laugh, out of sheer relief. ‘No, not at all. He was…’ and I paused for a second, but long enough for Penelope to tilt her head slightly to one side as she awaited my reply, ‘a gentleman,’ I said quickly.
‘Well, there we go. He can behave himself.’ And yet Penelope stayed looking at me for one or two more seconds. I broke the stare by looking across the office where I caught Stella’s eye. I tried to give her a look to encourage her over to rescue me, ask me out for a fag, but she turned her head towards her computer and began typing.
I let out a sigh. My thoughts turned to the end of the day when I could have a glass of wine. The weekend had taken it out of me. I felt off-kilter. I could do better than this.
Half an hour later my desk phone rang, I could see it was Mason’s internal line.
‘Hi, morning,’ I said as cheerfully as I could.
‘Morning, how’s things, back into the swing of it?’
‘Yep, all good.’
‘I wondered if you would pop along and see me in my office. Whenever you can is good. No rush.’
