by A J Waines
‘Well, to be honest, I feel like I’m only just starting out. I’m making serious plans for once, to decide what I really want. I’m going to explore loads of things; teaching, psychology, philosophy. I want to try archaeology, learn kick-boxing.’ I took a breath and realised they were all looking at me. ‘But isn’t it more about the journey you go on, not just stuff you do? Isn’t it about who you become on the way?’
No one made a sound.
‘Nicely put,’ he said eventually, a bit taken aback.
I smiled to myself. There was no way I’d ever have come out with a statement like that when I knew them at Uni. I realised something important. The ‘Alice’ I used to be felt like a long-lost acquaintance to me. Someone I’d felt compelled to leave behind at Uni, who would have held me back if I’d kept her in my life. Since then, not only did I no longer feel a failure, but I’d made friends with the new ‘Alice’.
‘You had that awful stammer back then,’ said Jodie. ‘You seem to have got over that now – thank goodness.’
Diplomacy wasn’t Jodie’s middle name. She had a tendency to speak before thinking – some might even say a honed talent for putting her foot in it. I found her an odd combination of sweet but insincere – earnest in many ways, but also thoughtless.
Karen brought out the crumble. Jodie slid a piece the size of a fig onto her plate. ‘I haven’t got much of an appetite,’ she explained, ‘since Mum died.’
‘Oh, God – I’m so sorry,’ I said.
Jodie hadn’t shown any obvious signs of grief; although perhaps that was why I sensed her frivolity was an act. She must have been covering up her feelings admirably.
‘It was kind of expected,’ she said. ‘She’d been ill for ages.’
‘Still,’ said Karen with gravitas. ‘It’s a big thing to cope with.’
Jodie licked her lips and half-shrugged. ‘I guess so.’
She didn’t reflect for long. ‘Do you remember that guy my textiles tutor hung around with…the one with the false leg?’
And so it went on. Meaningless banter. I had flashbacks of Karen, always the centre of attention, looking exquisite. At parties, she would work the room, making sure she shared a song with every individual – male, female, eligible, attractive, or not.
Somehow she managed to find out everyone’s birthday and without fail she’d present them with flowers, a bottle of local ale or some other token on their big day. She was amazing like that – generous and giving of herself. She must have run up terrible debts by the time we left.
By the end of the meal Mark had drunk too much. His head was rolling forward like his neck had turned to rubber and his eyes kept closing. That didn’t stop him reaching out to refill our glasses, but Karen said she needed a clear head for the baby and I put my hand over mine. He topped up Jodie’s and his own, then went to the larder and helped himself to another bottle.
‘We’re on holiday!’ he declared to quell any disapproval.
Jodie was knocking it back, too. Although she’d claimed she loved old rustic places, she had clearly expected more home comforts: ‘I thought there’d be radiators… There won’t be any creepy-crawlies will there…? Anyone brought any fabric softener…? Where’s the tumble dryer?’
She’d already made several complaints about the cold, having brought all the wrong gear: tops with low necks, capri pants, short sleeves. Even her slippers were open-toed, decorated with sequins and feathers. Karen offered to lend her a thick cardigan and I brought down a pair of thermal socks.
‘I don’t wear socks!’ she said and wiggled her bare toenails, which were painted a lurid lime green.
Jodie had brought along various kits for making tiaras and hair combs. When I asked if she made them for a living she said she worked in the jewellery section of a major department store on Oxford Street, but was going to be opening up her own boutique in Notting Hill.
‘Wow – that’s brilliant,’ I said.
‘I’ve already started selling stuff online.’ She held out a bracelet, jangling with charms; a tiny silver teapot, spoon, pair of scissors, saucepan, sieve. There were too many objects to see in one go.
‘What she means is she sells costume jewellery on eBay and is thinking of getting a stall at Portobello Market, aren’t you Jodie?’ corrected Mark, slurring his words.
Although Mark and Jodie both spoke their minds, only Mark deliberately set out to provoke a response, whereas Jodie just opened her mouth. ‘I have got a proper website…and the guy at the market office wants to interview me.’ She turned on him. ‘Why do you have to be so nasty?’
‘Just telling the truth, that’s all.’
‘Since when were you so keen on the truth?’ she growled. They exchanged a look that suggested they had a long and troubled history on that subject.
Jodie made no bones at University about falling for men who were possessive and controlling. She regarded it as the highest demonstration of true love; almost as though the feminist movement had never existed. I’d rather hoped she’d moved on from that and was surprised her relationship with Mark had lasted – although I was starting to get the sense it hadn’t been a smooth ride.
‘Look,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve got some business cards.’ She delved into her high-shine Ted Baker handbag and handed them round. ‘I wanted to see what they’d look like...’
‘So – this is the boutique you’re…going to open – but it isn’t up and running yet?’ I said tentatively.
‘Not yet, but it’s my ultimate goal.’ Once again, I noticed a tremor in her fingers that seemed totally at odds with her glossy and immaculate long nails. ‘What do you think of the name?’
‘It’s perfect,’ I said, smiling at the words Jodie’s Gems surrounded by a diamante heart.
‘I said Ditzy Dazzlers would be better,’ Mark contributed idly, looking at his watch. He’d done that more times than was polite since they’d arrived.
‘Mark – it’s not a joke.’ She sounded wounded.
Six years ago, Jodie had come across as unrealistic and immature. She meant well, but sadly didn’t seem to have a clue. Since then, however, she seemed to have found her true passion. Only Mark wasn’t exactly encouraging it.
Karen started clearing the dishes. I got up to help. Mark sat back, holding his mobile, and stared without focusing into space, while Jodie started giving him a shoulder massage. He hadn’t been at the cottage long before I noticed him tapping on any available surface – the table, Jodie’s back, the draining board – either with his fingers, a pencil or using cutlery as drumsticks. He was now making a living playing in a band, he told us, doing gigs around the country; Isle of Wight, Reading, Edinburgh that summer, as well as regular appearances in London pubs and clubs. He was obviously missing it.
Mark and Jodie were smokers and he’d already had three roll-ups during the meal. If the metallic odour was anything to go by, the roll-ups were stuffed with cannabis. At least Karen insisted they smoked outside the back door – which was something.
All in all, however, I was surprised at how different I felt being with them. I wasn’t the ‘downtrodden Alice with the stammer’ they used to know. I could hold my own with them now. If anything, I felt sorry for Jodie – Mark seemed far too ready to put her down in public – and for Mark too – it was clear he was itching to be doing something else. I was glad to be standing in my own shoes for a change – and not craving to be in someone else’s.
Chapter 8
Only early days, but everything is ticking along nicely. Alice seems happy to cook and clean without too much fuss and if she carries on like this, everything should be hunky dory. Hadn’t told her about Mark and Jodie coming, because too high a probability it would have put her off.
So weird all being together again after so long. Mark is even more hyper than he used to be and Jodie still dotes on him. It’s Alice who has moved on and I can’t help thinking back to the early days when she first came on the scene at Uni.
I remember Jodie han
dled it pretty badly; Jodie could see I had a soft spot for Alice. She was very disparaging and put it about that Alice had gate-crashed our gang. ‘She’s hanging around like a little puppy,’ she told people.
During supper tonight, Alice reminded us of the time I got tickets for U2. I’d bought them because I knew Jodie was into them, but stupidly left the tickets out in my room. Alice spotted them and she was over the moon, thinking there was one for her. Oops! I felt ‘obliged’ to let her have one, although Jodie tried to talk me out of it. Jodie gave in eventually, but she said she’d only go along with it on one condition – Alice had to earn it.
We’d put Alice to the test a couple of times already back then; easy stuff like ringing tutors to say we were sick and pinching ink cartridges from the Porter’s Lodge, to save money printing out our essays.
Alice didn’t like Jodie much – you could tell. She tolerated her, because Jodie was with me, but she never let down her guard around her. It’s interesting to watch how she reacts to her now in such a different context. Ironically, it feels like Alice is the one who has grown-up and Jodie has been left behind.
Mark used to say Jodie was jealous of Alice. I remember Jodie once said, ‘How could I be jealous of a no-hoper like that?’ But for the first time, I actually think Mark might have been right.
Jodie was cruel during our time at Leeds, though. I knew she’d been going into Alice’s room and taking stuff – pens, notepads, toothpaste, tampons, shoe polish – every so often when the mood took her. Alice was so trusting and hardly ever locked her door. Jodie never told me, because I reckon she knew she was going too far. Jodie could be a complete cow at times, but everyone has their uses. I had the feeling even then, that at some point Jodie would serve me well.
Chapter 9
As the evening wore on, I was looking for the earliest opportunity to escape. Once Karen and I had done the dishes, I let out an overblown yawn and went to bed. Shortly afterwards, I came back down for the glass of water I’d left on the draining board and I heard my name being spoken in hushed tones in the sitting room. I hovered by the connecting door and listened.
‘Just be nice to her, that’s all,’ said Karen.
‘But why did you invite her?’ queried Jodie. ‘You didn’t say anything – I thought it was just going to be Melanie and the three of us.’
‘Leave it, Babe – it’s no problem – we’ll look after her.’
‘Just don’t rock the boat, okay?’ said Karen.
I heard a movement from within so I scooted back upstairs before I was caught.
I didn’t get much sleep that night. I was worried about the snatch of conversation I’d overheard (what else had they said?), but mostly it was because of the racket above me from the attic conversion. Jodie and Mark weren’t exactly discrete. Jodie wailed and moaned as the bedhead smacked repeatedly into the wall. The pitch and speed of her cries rose, until she hit a resounding climax. I didn’t hear a sound from Mark, although, to be honest, I was trying my best not to listen.
By now, I was losing all faith in this holiday idea. Jodie and Mark’s arrival had brought nothing but bad memories, and the four of us together didn’t strike me as a good combination for an entire two weeks. We were all like radio-active chemicals that didn’t mix and would begin to give off toxic fumes when left in the same room for too long. I couldn’t help wondering which one of us would be the first to choke.
Chapter 10
There had been fresh snow overnight, so the landscape was pure and unsullied again.
As soon as I got downstairs I knew something was wrong. Karen had her coat on and was gathering together a tiny crocheted hat, anorak and mittens.
‘Melanie’s got a temperature – thirty-nine degrees – I’m really worried. I’m going to the hospital,’ she said.
‘Shall I come with you?’
‘It’s okay, Alice. We might be a while. Can you get the blanket from the sitting room?’
I waited with it in the hall as Karen went up for the bawling, red-faced bundle.
‘I can come too, if you like?’ I said again.
‘That’s very kind.’ She brushed my cheek with her hand as she turned to go. ‘You stay here. I don’t want it to spoil your holiday.’
‘But—’ She was already padding through the snow and I was left holding the open door.
As far as I was concerned, the holiday was already spoilt. I thought this was going to be our opportunity to rekindle our special bond, to share everything and get back to how we used to be. There was so much I wanted to talk to her about, but she’d brought the others in before we’d had the chance to have one decent conversation. Now we were a group and everything had turned sour.
I watched her from the window as she used a plastic scraper to clear the windscreen and I waited to see if she could get the engine to start. To my surprise, the rickety boneshaker of a car revved into life first time and I watched it trundle down the track towards the lane.
The door to the sitting room was open and I spotted Jodie on the floor, sitting cross-legged on the carpet. She saw me and called me in.
‘I’ve been thinking about my boutique,’ she said, pointing to the sketches laid out by her feet. ‘I thought it would be good to have the counters here...with the locked items in a glass cabinet, here…what do you think?’
The sketches looked professional. ‘Sounds like you’ve got lots of ideas.’
‘I dreamt about it last night. Can’t stop thinking about it.’
Mark appeared at the kitchen door, clutching his mobile, and sniggered. ‘Mark doesn’t think it’ll get off the ground, do you?’ she said.
‘Let’s face it, Babe – you don’t have the entrepreneurial know-how.’
‘But I can talk to people who do – not everyone who’s self-employed has a degree in business studies.’
‘She wanders around Notting Hill when I go off to football at the weekends,’ he said. ‘It’s like she’s in training for Portobello Road.’ He bent down and ruffled her hair. ‘She’s been watching that film with Hugh Grant – haven’t you, Doll?’
‘Don’t call me Doll – I hate it.’ Mark grunted and in spite of his slight build, picked her up in one sweep and she squealed with laughter.
I left them to it, made toast and coffee and took it upstairs. I huddled under the bedcovers, thinking about Melanie. Was it a serious relapse or something simple like an ear infection? True to form, Karen hadn’t panicked and had everything under control. Typical, too, for Karen to refuse help and go it alone. She had a resilience I rarely saw in other people and certainly didn’t have myself.
I heard Jodie calling me and went onto the landing. ‘Want to have a go, Alice? I’m making earrings.’
As I went down, I nearly tripped over a hairbrush on the last stair. Jodie had left her mark around the place in other ways too. False eyelashes were lying next to the soap on the basin in the bathroom, her eye-shadow was left open on the toilet seat.
When I joined her, I had to mention that she’d forgotten to put her used wax strips in the bin.
‘Oh, yeah, sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll clear them up in a minute. I’m just waiting for this glue to dry.’ She was sticking lace around the edge of small box. The kitchen table had become a workbench, covered in tiny hooks, beads, clasps, wires, pincers and pliers. ‘Want to make your own earrings? We can do some with a clasp,’ she suggested.
‘I’d love to. Thanks.’
Mark came in through the backdoor bringing a blast of icy air with him – he must have been out for another cigarette.
Jodie got up. ‘We were going to put up decorations today,’ she said, linking arms with him. She turned to me. ‘Like a homecoming celebration for the baby.’
‘Perhaps we should wait,’ said Mark, ‘given that—’
‘I’ve got balloons to blow up and a Welcome Home banner I could attach over here,’ she said, ignoring him. ‘Or maybe over there…’
‘I think Mark’s right,’ I said. ‘Just
in case. It would be awful if…’ I bit my lip. Jodie looked disappointed and sat down again.
Mark started cutting slices of bread the thickness of a shelf. He slid them under the grill and folded his arms, looking at the floor.
Jodie showed me how to drop beads onto a wire and bend the wires. It was harder than it looked.
‘Why don’t we bake potatoes in the fire for supper tonight?’ said Mark, leaning over her, smelling her hair. ‘In foil, like they do in the Scouts.’
‘They’ll take ages,’ scoffed Jodie.
‘Or they’ll burn to a crisp,’ I added.
‘Alright then – how about I go and get chestnuts. We can toast them, instead.’
Jodie faked a gag. ‘Yagh – I hate chestnuts.’
I was faintly amused at the way Mark was treating the break like a camping holiday.
‘Okay – well, let’s stop being so bloody dreary and put some music on. There’s a machine in our room.’ He went upstairs and brought down a dusty portable CD player. ‘It doesn’t have a dock for an iPhone, but luckily – ta da – I’ve brought some CDs.’ He tossed them on an empty chair.
Seconds later the walls were thudding to the beat of some raucous funk band I’d never heard of, using appalling language.
‘This is bloody awful, Mark,’ I said. He looked taken aback.
‘You never used to swear, Alice,’ said Jodie.
‘I’m finally shaking off my puritanical background,’ I replied cheerily, holding up the pair of misshapen earrings I’d just finished.
‘Never mind,’ she said, ‘we can have another go.’ The ones she’d made in the same amount of time looked exquisite.
As I twisted more wires, I wondered what Jodie was making of the person I’d become since Leeds. I’d turned up in Freshers’ Week with no self-assurance whatsoever. I’d had no idea what to wear, what to say – all I’d known then was how to appear desperate. It seemed to me I was the only person in the world who felt that way and I spent most of those three years at Leeds faking my confidence; being chatty all the time to get people to like me, anything not to stand out like a sore thumb.
