How To Throw Your Life Away

by Laurie Ellingham

  Laughter burst out of her as Adam’s forehead knotted into a child-like frown.

  ‘How much salt did you put in?’ she asked.

  ‘Just what the recipe said – a table spoon.’

  ‘One whole tablespoon? Are you sure it wasn’t supposed to be a teaspoon?’

  Adam scrunched his eyes almost shut and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve never been good at knowing the abbreviations.’

  ‘Are there any potatoes?’ Katy asked, her eyes scanning the kitchen.

  Adam threw his hands to his head and the familiar sound of his own laughter filled the room. ‘I’m such an idiot,’ he said a moment later. ‘I forgot about side dishes. Sorry, Katy. This hasn’t worked out how I’d hoped.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘How about Chinese? You order and I’ll clean up this mess.’

  They both stood up, dancing around each other as Katy moved towards the drawer with the take-away menus in and Adam moved towards the sink.

  ‘Actually, I’ve got a better idea,’ he said, taking her hand and drawing her towards him again.

  ‘Adam I’m not sure-’ Before Katy could finish, Adam stooped his head, touching her lips with his own, his tongue finding hers. Just like the music, the kiss cloaked her in an easy familiarity. Without thinking, she moved her arms up, wrapping them around his neck as they moved their bodies closer. He ran his hands down her back again. The sequence of their intimacy mapped out like a set of instructions to follow. She knew his hands would slide under and up her top in a few moments. She knew her hands would move down to his jeans. She knew this was not what she wanted.

  Katy pulled her arms away and pushed them against Adam’s chest, taking a step back.

  ‘Shall we go upstairs?’ he stroked her hair.

  She shook her head, unable to formulate the words to explain. It would be so easy to follow the path laid out before them. To fall into bed and back to where they’d been, as if the past week had been nothing more than a bad fight they could move on from. To continue the waiting. Week after week, month after month, going through the motions, waiting for something more. Tears stung at the corner of her eyes.

  The doorbell chime of Adam’s mobile broke the silence. He reached into to the front pocket of his jeans, his expression changing before her as he stared at the screen. Hope morphing into sadness, or fear maybe, Katy couldn’t tell.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  He didn’t respond.

  ‘Adam?’

  ‘Nothing important,’ he said, without looking up. ‘I’ve got to sort something out.’ Adam moved towards the door, turning in the doorway to look at her. ‘For a new client. Leave all this,’ he waved his hand around the kitchen. ‘I’ll do it later.’

  ‘What new client?’

  ‘We’ll chat later,’ he called out as his feet thumped on the stairs.

  A moment later the slamming of the spare room door reverberated through the house.

  Katy dropped into the nearest chair and rubbed at the pain throbbing across her forehead. She’d spent five hours in Henley, avoiding Adam. Drinking frothy coffees until she’d felt jittery and sick, browsing books in the musky town Library, drifting in and out of shops and flicking through rails of clothes she’d never wear. When all she’d wanted to do was lose herself in the pruning of her roses, or slide under the bed covers and bury herself.

  Now what did she do? Adam was no closer to packing his bags, and she was no closer to asking him to leave, but they’d built no bridges either. If anything, the effort Adam had made and the intimacy he’d tried to ignite only served to add to her confusion and her headache.

  Katy cast her eyes over the dishes and used pans strewn across the kitchen. Part of her wanted to tidy it all away like she always did. Not this time, Katy thought, making herself toast and slavering it in butter.

  For once, she longed to lose herself in a storyline of a soap. Any show would do, as long as it made her life seem more normal, she didn’t care. But she couldn’t. Adam had sold the television. Only Adam would come up with a gesture both selfless and selfish all in one go.

  Instead, Katy crept up the stairs, stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the dial closer and closer to red until the spraying water scolded her skin.

  CHAPTER 8

  Saturday

  ‘So have you told Adam about your job yet?’ Claire asked, topping their glasses up with the last drops of pink wine as a waitress scooped up their empty plates.

  Katy scrunched up her face. ‘No.’

  ‘Katy.’

  ‘I know, I know. Things are just so weird between us right now.’

  Katy cast her eyes across the room. It seemed hard to believe that the olive green walls used to be a ghastly yellow, and the large mirrors, reflecting the faces of contented diners, used to be shelves of video cassettes. They’d spent a lot of time browsing videos in this place, trying to choose between the latest Macaulay Culkin or Meg Ryan film to watch on a Saturday night sleepover; before boys and miniskirts had ventured onto their horizons.

  Katy caught sight of her reflection in the mirror across the room and did a another double take.

  Her dark brown hair might be smoother and more shiny than it had ever been in her entire life, but the ends kept tickling the top of her shoulders. She’d spent the evening fidgeting in her chair, giving little shakes of her head and feeling like a dog with fleas as she tried and failed to get the ends to sit on her back instead of her collarbone.

  ‘So what have you told him then?’ Claire said, bringing Katy’s gaze and her thoughts back to their table. ‘Even Adam must have noticed that you haven’t been getting up every morning and going to work.’

  ‘I said I had some extra holiday days to take, and thought a week off would do me good. Not that I think Adam would have noticed anyway. I’ve hardly seen him since he got that message on his phone. He’s being going out pretty early in a suit and not getting back until well past midnight.’

  ‘Funny hours for a new client.’

  ‘It’s not just the appearance and timing of the new client now, after what happened on Saturday, but the TV thing. I just can’t believe he got rid of it,’ Katy sighed. The week had been a series of stilted conversations whilst one of them had been about to walk out the front door.

  ‘Shall we get dessert?’ Katy said, eyeing the mound of sticky toffee pudding on the table next to them. They’d spent the best part of two hours talking about the mess she’d made of her life, but she felt no closer to answers, understanding, fulfilment, or sanity for that matter, and now she was tired of it all - the mess, and the sound of her own voice.

  ‘I don’t think I can fit anything else in.’ Claire smoothed down the fabric of her dress. Low cut and black, it hugged the curves Claire had spent a lifetime trying to shrink. The same curves Katy had spent a lifetime wishing for. How many times in her life had she caught herself ogling Claire’s chest like a randy fifteen-year old boy? Boob envy Claire called it, teasing Katy at every opportunity.

  ‘For once, I’m actually glad I caught the kids’ stomach bug so I could fit into this dress again,’ Claire grinned. ‘Although after what we’ve just eaten I’m now bursting at the seams.’

  ‘Are they okay now?’

  ‘They’re fine. They went back to school on Thursday, although I might have to find a new preschool for Ruby.’

  ‘Why? Doesn’t she like it there anymore?’

  ‘She loves Little Rainbows, but they are threatening to expel her over the most ridiculous thing.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you could be expelled from preschool?’ Katy laughed.

  ‘That’s what I said, and apparently you can for things like excessive biting, or in Ruby’s case - the continued use of inappropriate words.’

  ‘What? Ruby? You’re kidding.’

  ‘I wish I was. She’s been swearing in the playground, well sort of anyway.’ Claire laughed. ‘It really isn’t funny. I blame A
rchie’s friend Daniel and his family, as usual. They’ve got a puppy. How that woman copes with a puppy and four boys all under the age of ten I don’t know.’

  ‘But what has a puppy got to do with Ruby swearing. Don’t tell me they’ve given the dog a swear word for a name?’

  ‘Worse. They’ve named it Darth Vader,’ Claire replied, rolling her eyes. ‘It’s the breed of dog that’s the problem. It’s a cocker spaniel and a poodle or something. They’re called cockerpoos. Now Nick and Archie are both desperate for me to agree to getting a puppy. A cockerpoo of all creatures.

  ‘So Ruby, always the drama queen, has been going around the preschool singing “I want a cockerpoo”, to the tune of I Love Rock and Roll. Except it’s coming out as “I want cock and poo,”’ Claire sung, lowering her voice and leaning closer to the table. ‘She’s even created a little dance to go with it.’ Claire threw her arms up above her head before bringing them down to her hips with a wiggle. It’s quite catchy. I found myself singing it the other day when I was hanging the washing out.’

  ‘Oh Claire,’ Katy laughed.

  ‘Apparently it started a craze amongst the other children, until they were all running around the playground singing “I want cock and poo,” just as the inspectors turned up. Forget the evil stares from other mums, Little Rainbows are threatening to boot her out. She can’t even write her own name yet and she’s about to be expelled.’

  Katy gasped for air as laughter gripped her body.

  ‘I like dogs,’ Claire said a few moments later, 'but it will be me that has to look after the poor thing all day long. I’m just not sure I want to give up another piece of myself and my time to a dog, or a baby for that matter.’

  ‘What? Claire, you’re not?’ Katy said, her giggling fit over.

  ‘No. Of course not,’ Claire said, finishing off the wine in her glass. ‘We’ve been talking about it though.’

  ‘Claire, that’s so exciting. I always knew you’d have more.’

  ‘Is it exciting?’ Claire sighed and cast her eyes up to the sparkling glass chandelier hanging above them, but not before Katy noticed the tears glistening in them.

  ‘Claire?’

  Claire looked at her watch. ‘We’d better get a move on if we want to be fashionably late to this party.’

  ‘Talk to me, Claire. What is going on with you? And don’t tell me it’s nothing.’

  ‘Sorry Katy. I’ll tell you another time. Not tonight. Tonight is about us having a good time like we used to before boyfriends and husbands and jobs and babies got in the way.’

  Claire stood up and pulled the hem of her dress down until it rested above her knees. ‘Should I stop at mine and change quickly? I suddenly feel overdressed for a house party.’

  ‘No, you look gorgeous. I’m the one that’s underdressed. I have work clothes and stuff to wear whilst I’m gardening, and that’s it. This was the best I could find. Jeans and a black top in the middle of a heat wave. I feel like a moron.’

  Katy made a mental note to pop in to Claire’s one day next week after the school run. Something was bothering her friend and it was unlike Claire to keep things to herself.

  ***

  ‘Remind me again why we’re going to a complete stranger’s party?’ Katy asked, stepping out of the restaurant and into the warm summer’s evening.

  The sun showed no signs of setting, but the blazing heat had tapered to a bearable warmth.

  ‘We could stay for dessert, or go back to yours and drink wine in your garden?’ Katy stretched her arms out and yawned. ‘It’s pretty late.’

  ‘I know what you’re doing, Katy Davenport. You think I’m going to start yawning away and blame motherhood for needing my bed. Well, not tonight. We’re going,’ Claire said. ‘You cannot have your hair done at Valentino’s and sit in my back garden.’

  Claire’s heels tapped on the pavement as she kept pace with Katy’s long strides. ‘I still can’t believe how different you look,’ she said, linking arms with Katy

  ‘I still can’t believe my hair is all gone.’

  ‘It really does suit you like that, especially at your age,’ Claire grinned.

  ‘Hey,’ Katy nudged her friend, which, combined with the wine and Claire’s high heels, almost sent them both toppling into the hedge. ‘I’m only thirty-three.’

  ‘I just can’t figure out where your fringe has gone? Is it extensions?’

  ‘Can you seriously imagine me agreeing to having someone else’s hair glued to my head? I’m pretty sure my fringe is still there,’ Katy said, touching the bare skin on her forehead. ‘Just scooped to the side in some elaborate comb-over. I’m a thirty-three year old woman with a comb over,’ Katy laughed.

  ‘Have we got enough wine?’ Claire asked, holding up the two silver wine bags. ‘Maybe we should stop and get some Bacardi?’

  Katy snorted as another laugh escaped her throat. ‘Don’t think for one minute that I’m going to hold your hair back later whilst you throw up. You’ve got a husband for that now. Anyway, a bottle each is more than enough.’

  Katy stopped. ‘Don’t mention anything about my anger management class tonight.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Claire said, pulling her friend along, ‘but you do realise you’ve spent more time talking about the counsellor in the class than you’ve done about Adam or your job situation.’

  ‘I have not, and even if I have, it’s only because he is a total-’

  ‘Wanker,’ Claire cut in. ‘You’ve mentioned that.’

  Ten minutes later the pair stood outside the open front door of Claire’s neighbour. The beat of music and the hum of people talking floated into the otherwise peaceful evening.

  ‘Should we go in?’ Claire touched her hand to her stomach and pulled down the hem of her dress.

  ‘The door’s open so we might as well. It looks a bit like a free for all.’

  ‘Hello?’ Claire called, stepping through the front door and knocking over a half empty plastic cup that had been left on the floor.

  Claire looked at Katy, the uncertainty spread across her face. ‘Go,’ Katy said, giving her friend a shove into the hallway and towards the noise at the back of the house.

  ‘Hello ladies,’ two men said, grinning at Katy and Claire as they walked down the hallway towards them.

  ‘Don’t you both look lovely tonight.’

  Claire and Katy looked at each other and laughed. ‘Um, thanks,’ Claire grinning. ‘Is the host about?’

  ‘Try the kitchen,’ one of the men replied, eyeing Claire’s cleavage as he moved past.

  ‘Thanks, I will,’ she said with a wink.

  ‘Claire,’ Katy dropped her voice as they stepped into the kitchen.

  ‘What?’ she grinned. ‘It was just a wink.’

  Half empty bottles of alcohol and bags of crisps littered the work surface in front of them, but the kitchen itself was empty. The noise and the music filtered in through the open French doors and the garden full of people.

  A man in a loose blue polo shirt and beige shorts entered the kitchen from another door and smiled at them.

  Katy’s heart pounded as she caught sight of his muscular legs. Her cheeks burnt a hot red as she dragged her eyes up to his face, meeting his gaze.

  ‘Claire. How lovely you could make it. Thank you so much for those delicious cakes you dropped over last week. They were sensational.’

  ‘You’re very welcome,’ Claire beamed. ‘Tom this is my friend-’

  ‘Katy,’ he said. ‘Hi.’

  Claire looked between them. ‘You two know each other?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tom replied.

  ‘Not really,’ Katy said a split second later.

  ‘Good to see you again, Katy,’ Tom said, stepping forward and kissing her cheek. ‘I like your hair,’ he whispered into her ear as his hand touched her bare arm.

  He gestured towards the bottles. ‘I’m on drink making duties. What will it be ladies? mojitos? Wine? Beer?’ he asked, his eyes still fixed on Katy�
��s.

  ‘A mojito sounds good,’ Claire smiled. ‘We’ll take two.'

  .

  CHAPTER 9

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ Claire grinned as they negotiated the three concrete steps from the kitchen into the garden. ‘The counsellor on your anger management course, the total wanker you’ve spent all evening, and most of the week moaning about, is actually my incredibly dishy, polite and seemingly quite nice neighbour?’

  ‘Shhhh,’ Katy hissed, dragging her friend further into the garden and glancing behind her. Tom stood at the window, his eyes fixed on them.

  Had he heard? Of course he had. Of course Claire’s voice, always a few octaves higher after half a bottle of wine, had carried into the kitchen. It just wouldn’t be her birthday, or a party, or any day of the week, without some form of excruciating embarrassment to overcome.

  ‘I should go,’ she said.

  ‘Why? He seemed happy enough to see you. You might not have noticed, but I didn’t get a kiss on the cheek.’

  ‘He was being polite.’

  ‘Polite is a handshake or a smile. Now drink your drink Katy Davenport and let’s enjoy ourselves.’

  Doing as she was told, Katy took a sip of cocktail. The kick from the rum hit her stomach and her head just as the tangy lime and sugar reached her taste buds. She hated to admit it, but Tom knew how to make a decent drink.

  ‘We need to mingle,’ Claire announced.

  ‘Do we?’

  ‘Yes. Now come on.’

  Claire turned to face the garden, her eyes scanning the people and the faces.

  She set out towards the nearest group.

  ‘Hey, look up there,’ a woman laughed, pointing above Claire’s head. ‘There are two little kids making faces at us.’

  ‘Who in their right mind would let children stay up-’ Claire’s sentence cut short as her eyes followed the direction of the pointing hand.

  ‘Archie, Ruby,’ Claire shrieked. ‘Where is Daddy?’

  Katy waved at Claire’s children as they jumped up and down and made fish sucking faces on the glass.