The Last Word

by A. L. Michael

  Tabby sat down in the corner of the sofa, draping her legs over Harry’s, strangely pleased to see how well their bodies fit together. Like she didn’t know that already.

  ‘It’s a uni throwback: sit around, drink too much tea, get stoned, eat biscuits, watch mindless television. Except we substitute mindless television for VHS box sets from the charity shop.’ She pointed to their ever-growing collection.

  ‘Huh.’ Harry swigged at his bottle. ‘Never did that at uni.’

  ‘Too busy getting laid?’

  ‘Amongst the studying and the writing and the panicking, sure.’ He poked her in the ribs before putting a comfortable arm around her waist. ‘Judgemental.’

  ‘Oh come on, even if you were in the library all day, you were out clubbing in the hottest spots at the weekend. Trendsetter that you are.’

  ‘Maybe.’ He shrugged.

  ‘So you, by proxy, must have had hangover Sunday afternoons. That’s what this is.’ Tabby had a very clear idea of Harry at Cambridge: charming, confident, having the best time and pulling everyone else around him into his gravitational field of fun.

  ‘I really love this weird view you have of me at uni. I was a complete dork. I had a sad little existence surrounded by books and bigger, even dustier books. I worked hard and it got me what I wanted.’

  An excellent job, but very few real friends, Tabby frowned to herself, and leant her head against his. She felt his lips brush her forehead, and snuggled contentedly. She was relieved the girls would be joining them soon, too much physical contact with Harry wasn’t good. Or was too good.

  ‘So when I did have a hangover, I took some painkillers, Pro Plus, drank three Red Bulls and manned up. Straight back to the library.’

  ‘“Manned up” is a ridiculous term. Imagine going through childbirth, it should probably be womaned up.’

  Rhi bustled through the door with carrier bags and raised her eyebrows as she headed through to the kitchen. Chandra followed, holding only one bag. She smiled genuinely at Harry.

  ‘Hello again, Mr Big-Shot Editor.’ She grinned.

  ‘Nice to see you, Miss Terrifying Actuary.’ Harry smiled back. ‘Need any help with anything?’

  ‘Nope, don’t get up! You guys look comfortable.’ She followed Rhi through to the kitchen, then shouted back, ‘Tabs, you need anything? Wine?’

  ‘Yes!’ Tabby yelled. ‘Plus, I made a pot of stew for later!’

  ‘You are awesome.’ Chandra re-emerged with a bottle of rosé wine, two wine glasses and a bottle of beer in each pocket of her cardigan.

  ‘Harry?’ She offered him a beer.

  ‘Still working on this one, thanks.’

  She placed it on the floor by his feet. ‘Well it’s there when you want it.’

  She then settled herself at the other end of the sofa and poured the wine. Rhi appeared with tortilla chips, dip and M&Ms. Under her arm she had her latest VHS find.

  ‘If there are no complaints, I thought we could do a best of Whedon night? Buffy, Angel, Firefly and maybe Alien: Resurrection.’

  ‘Meh to Angel and Alien.’ Tabby shrugged. ‘Otherwise, I’m in.’

  ‘Ooh, or Nathan Fillion night!’ Chandra clapped her hands.

  ‘Harry?’ Rhi purposefully asked. ‘Is that OK with you?’

  ‘Sounds great. I’m here to learn.’ Harry squeezed Tabby, who looked at Rhi gratefully.

  ‘Then pay attention, young grasshopper, for there is much to know.’

  Four hours later, fairly stoned and moaning with appreciation while eating Tabby’s stew, the girls had to agree: Harry was a good time.

  He picked up their plates and empty wrappers and took them to the kitchen.

  ‘What are you doing? Don’t tidy!’ Tabby commanded. ‘Come back, I’m cold!’

  He grinned as he reappeared from the kitchen. ‘I just dumped them in the sink. Might run to the shop for more beer though. More wine?’

  They shrugged and nodded.

  ‘I’ll come with,’ Tabby said. ‘Should buy fruit to counteract the chocolate.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

  ‘Ooh yes! Grapes! And clementines!’ Chandra said, excited.

  ‘Apples too. Very important.’ Rhi nodded.

  ‘There is no undoing all the chocolate you just ate. I’m sorry, that’s a fact,’ Harry said.

  ‘You have clearly never eaten an apple while stoned, my friend. And I am here to tell you it’s awesome.’ Rhi grinned and giggled a little. When Rhi laughed she looked like a sweet rosy-cheeked child, full of joy. It was Tabby’s favourite thing about her.

  ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘No you will not! Hurry back!’

  Tabby grabbed her keys, pulled an ugly oversized jumper on, and tried not to smile too much when Harry took her hand.

  ‘They like you,’ Tabby said as she pulled the front door closed behind her. She tried not to question why it was important that they liked him. But it was.

  ‘They don’t know me yet.’

  ‘Well, they like what they do know.’

  ‘Good, I like them too.’ Harry squeezed her hand. ‘Nice to see where all the magic happens.’

  Tabby tugged on his arm so he stopped walking and faced her. ‘I’m really glad we did this.’

  She tiptoed briefly to peck his lips, but his arms were around her waist, and his mouth was insistent against hers before she could pull back. Automatically her arms went around his neck to pull him closer, warm and solid and there. A car horn blared and they drew apart. Tabby tried to catch her breath, slow her heart rate. She grinned at the floor.

  ‘You know,’ Harry started thoughtfully as he took her hand again, ‘that’s the first time you’ve kissed me. I’d be flattered if you weren’t drunk.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m not drunk, I’m just…grateful for you. Hanging out and doing stupid stuff and getting on with my friends.’

  ‘If that’s the response, I’ll hang out with your friends as much as possible.’ He elbowed her gently as they reached the corner shop.

  ‘Oh shut up, Charm Boy.’ She kissed him quickly before darting into the shop, leaving him to follow. Tabby was a little scared of this game they were playing, but it felt too wonderful to stop.

  ***

  It was a few days later Tabby met Harry in the office.

  ‘Hey you.’ She leaned against the office door.

  Harry looked up from frowning at his paperwork and smiled at her. He took off his glasses and threw them down on the desk.

  ‘Hello yourself.’

  He went to kiss her but she placed a hand on his chest.

  ‘We can’t do that here!’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Everyone will know!’ she whispered loudly.

  Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘Darling, I hate to break this to you, but they already knew we were kissing last time. If anything, not kissing me now just confirms we’re having sex.’

  She grinned. ‘Did you actually just rationalise me having to kiss you?’

  ‘What can I say, babe, I’m good.’ He settled for pecking her on the cheek. ‘I’m glad you’re here. Working lunch?’

  ‘Sounds good, how’s the stats on “Miss Twisted”?’

  ‘Excellent. David’s very pleased. He’s thinking we should give you some more features outside of your blog, something a little more permanent. Obviously, he’ll talk to you about that himself, but it means…well you could have a home here.’ He beamed at her, like it was the best thing he could have possibly imagined.

  ‘Permanent?’ Tabby didn’t feel as elated as she thought she would. Sure, she loved the job, she loved the paper, she loved working with Harry. But this whole thing centred around twelve weeks. Three months and she was done. She could leave. No strings attached.

  ‘I know, it’s brilliant, isn’t it? Especially with the economy. You’d have to be exceptional to be hired right now. And you are.’ He shrugged on his jacket and placed his hand at the small of her back to
guide her. ‘Fancy dim sum for lunch, or is that too pretentious of me?’

  ‘No, dim sum sounds good,’ she replied faintly. Permanent. Permanently there, working with Harry. She briefly allowed the idea that they could be permanent to flutter into her imagination, but all she could see was her alone, sniping at his criticism in between him bedding models, while she went back to the life she lead before, alone and angry and completely unconfident.

  ‘You don’t seem pleased, I thought you liked working here?’

  They reached the ground floor, and she offered him a sincere smile. ‘I do, I really do. I’m just surprised.’

  Harry did not seem convinced. But the throng of tourists around Oxford Circus meant they had to weave in silence on the way to the restaurant. It gave Tabby some time to think. There was no point panicking about Harry. She just needed to get through lunch and appear enthusiastic and then she’d get home and talk it through with her girls, and they’d tell her whether she was being sensible or stupid. These days, and especially when it came to Harry, she couldn’t tell any more. Yes, she’d just go home and talk it through, and either way it would be fine. She smiled at Harry as he led her into the restaurant, and the servers lead him over to his, ‘Usual table, Mr Harry.’

  ‘Come here much?’

  ‘Too much. You have any preferences?’ Harry loosened his tie, and focused his gaze on her, still looking for the traces of whatever was wrong before.

  ‘I will let you make all the decisions. You know what you’re doing. And I’m taking a lesson in being easy-going.’ Tabby winked at him, trying to show that she was fine. And she was fine, the more she thought about it. David thought she was a good writer; Harry thought she was an excellent writer. She was boosting the stats of the paper and making a name for herself. She got to see her name in little capital letters underneath a cute 1950s style ‘Miss Twisted Thinks’ logo. She was having good sex frequently and sitting opposite a gorgeous man who wanted to feed her. Life was good.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Tabby gasped.

  ‘What, what’s wrong?’

  She took a deep breath and looked at her watch. ‘No, it’s fine, sorry. I forgot I’ve got to meet my mother this afternoon. It’s fine. Well, it’s not fine, it’ll be hell, but I’ve still got an hour before I have to go.’

  ‘Why will it be hell?’

  Tabby raised an eyebrow. ‘You haven’t met my mother. And now she’s a bridezilla, what with the wedding being so close. She keeps texting me every five minutes, either telling me not to eat or that she can’t find anyone to set me up with. She’s a headcase.’

  Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s trying to set you up?’

  ‘Well no, she’s stopped now and just decided to let Rhi and Chands come to the wedding because she feels bad that I’m going to be alone for ever – her words not mine – and she doesn’t want her spinster daughter drawing attention away from her on her special day.’

  Harry’s eyes widened. ‘I think I understand you a little better now.’

  ‘That I am a strong survivor of a severe case of Mad Mother? You want to meet Chandra’s mum. We made a chart one year to see who was worse. She won then, but I definitely win now,’ Tabby said proudly.

  ‘Well, that’s something I guess.’ Harry shrugged. ‘So what’s on the agenda this afternoon?’

  ‘Fitting for a bridesmaid dress. She’ll purposefully choose something awful, too. It’s just her way, bless her. And she wants me to call in a favour at Brides magazine to get her wedding featured. And then this evening,’ Tabby viciously crunched a prawn cracker, ‘I have to be there while her vile middle-aged friends throw her a hen night.’

  ‘Might be a laugh?’ Harry grinned, and Tabby’s eyes widened.

  ‘Are you kidding? If they’re not divorcees, they’ve been repressed housewives for twenty years! My Auntie Jill phoned up to ask where the nearest Ann Summers is. I’m going to die, Harry, you’re not taking this seriously!’

  Harry stopped laughing and put his hand over hers. ‘I’m terribly sorry, darling, you’re right. But at least they’ll have you there to explain the difference between a vibrator and a dildo.’

  ‘What are you insinuating?’ Tabby looked around at their few fellow diners.

  ‘That I read the article you wrote on that for the feminist webzine? Excellent piece, Tabby, really.’

  Tabby rolled her eyes. ‘Oh shut up. Money is money.’

  Harry grinned at her and reached across to stroke her cheek. ‘Sad Tabby. Cheer up. The answer to the hen night is clearly to get as smashed as possible, note down as many hilarious stories as possible, and then come over to mine tonight so I can make you feel better about it.’

  Tabby bit her lip, trying to pause, but knowing that it would make her feel better, having Harry to rant at, and laugh with and distract her in a variety of interesting ways. ‘It’ll finish pretty late…’

  ‘Nothing I love more than being woken up by a drunk girl stumbling into my bed.’ Harry winked. ‘Plus, you should have dessert as I’m sending you into the lion’s den.’

  ‘I don’t have time. Plus as soon as she gets me into that changing room and starts prodding all my wobbly bits, I’ll start feeling shitty about everything I’ve eaten in the last week.’ Tabby carefully considered her dumpling, holding it up between chopsticks and glaring at it, before eating it and grinning at Harry. ‘Mmm. Worth it.’

  ‘Aw, you should have told me you were feeling a bit low, self-esteem wise,’ Harry said, his voice dropping deliciously. ‘I’ll happily find us a very private alleyway where I can prove to you that you’re a terribly sexy woman. I’m very committed.’

  Tabby grinned, and once again wondered what on earth he was doing with her. ‘I know you are. You can convince me later, when I’m drunk. I’ll be a lot more willing to believe all the rubbish you tell me then.’

  ‘Who said I was going to say a word?’ Harry laughed.

  Tabby rolled her eyes and looked at her watch. ‘I hate to eat and run but I’ve got to go if I’m gonna meet the Dragon Lady on time. Can’t give her one more thing to be irritated about.’ She started rifling through her purse until Harry waved it off.

  ‘Business lunch, expenses.’

  ‘Oh, I keep forgetting you important editor types do that. So you never actually pay for dinner, do you?’ she teased.

  ‘I bought pizza last week!’

  ‘Yes, and I spent a long time sincerely thanking you for that.’ She stood up and pulled on her coat.

  ‘So I’ll see you later tonight?’ Harry stood up as well, helping her with her jacket.

  ‘Yes you will. Well, unless I get too drunk. You never know with these fifty-year-olds. They’re wild.’

  Harry put his arms around her and leaned in to whisper, ‘Well, don’t get too drunk then. I’ve got plans for you.’

  Tabby smiled against his mouth, and kept trying to force herself to leave. It wasn’t until she managed to wonder if the wait staff saw Mr Harry here with different girls all the time, doing exactly the same thing that she managed to pry herself away. She was fifteen minutes late to meet Claudia. And it was worth it.

  ‘Tabitha, really!’ Claudia was already in fuming harpy mode. ‘I’ve spent years impressing on you the importance of being on time. Why it never stuck I have no idea.’

  ‘Hi Mum,’ Tabby said pettily, and smiled weakly at the poor salesgirl.

  ‘Get in the changing room now; we have no time for your games. There’s three possibilities in there.’

  Tabby took a deep breath, followed the sales assistant to the dressing room and paused briefly before pulling back the curtain.

  ‘On a scale of one to ten, how much am I going to hate this?’ she asked the girl.

  ‘Depends on how you feel about taffeta.’

  ‘Oh dear God.’ Tabby pulled back the curtain and was faced with a lot of lilac, fluffy dress stuffed into the tiny cubicle. There was barely enough room to edge in, without being smothered in pouffy fabrics.

&nb
sp; ‘Barbie dream wedding,’ Tabby grumbled to herself.

  ‘It’s a popular choice with mature brides,’ the girl shrugged and offered a small smile. ‘We offer a glass of complimentary champagne?’

  ‘I think we’re going to be good friends.’ Tabby grinned. ‘Thank you.’

  Tabby shimmied into the first purple monstrosity, complete with pouffy skirt, silken layers and lace sleeve cuffs. ‘I look like Barney’s depressed cousin,’ she said to her reflection.

  ‘Tabitha, come out so I can see, I don’t have time for this!’ Her mother’s shrill voice seemed extra loud. She pulled open the curtain and saw her critically scan her body.

  ‘Hmm. You’ve been eating carbs, haven’t you?’

  Yes…but I’ve been having a lot of sex to work off the calories.

  ‘Mum, it’s not the right style anyway.’

  ‘What on earth makes you say that?’ Claudia crossed her arms, and Tabby prepared to assume the crash position.

  ‘It’s very eighties. Don’t you think something a little more simplistic, streamlined? I don’t want to be on show, this is your special day, after all,’ Tabby said, assuming a saintly expression.

  ‘Oh, so you’re worried you’ll steal the limelight? Don’t worry about that, darling. I want you to be on show, anyway. This might be the closest thing you get to your own wedding, after all.’

  Tabby rolled her eyes and all but pounced on the glass of champagne the sales girl brought along with a simple A-line dress in lavender, with a darker purple ribbon around the middle. ‘How about something like this?’

  ‘That’s lovely! Look, isn’t it lovely, Mum?’ Tabby tried to get her interested. Claudia picked up the material and stroked it experimentally.