The Long Weekend

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The Long Weekend Page 8

by Clare Lydon


  “Make me one then.”

  Vic did as she was told.

  “So what were you two talking about down here?” Stevie knew the dynamics between them.

  “Oh, you know, this and that,” Geri said as the coffee machine began to whir. That told Stevie all she needed to know. “Work, life…” Geri added, before running out of nouns.

  “Well, enough about work – I want to talk about how much we’re going to party later, seeing as it’s Saturday night.” Stevie grinned, dancing around on the balls of her feet

  Geri leaned back against the counter and yawned. “You’re a bit perky this morning.”

  “Been for a run already. I’m ready for the day!” Stevie nudged Geri on the arm. “So come on, who’s going to do the most embarrassing thing this time?”

  “Bagsy not me,” Geri said, raising her hand.

  “And we’re not 30 anymore.” Vic handed Stevie her the coffee. “I think we all might have grown up a bit since last time.” Vic’s tone was finite, almost acidic. She should have known better.

  “Doesn’t mean we don’t all do stupid things that we regret now and again though, does it?” Stevie connected with a cultured right hook.

  Vic’s face contorted and she looked winded.

  Geri wished she could vanish from the kitchen and have the good sense not to be on her own with a warring couple. Still, even she had to concede that Vic had walked into that one.

  “Oh come on, nobody can beat Kat’s efforts from last time,” Geri said. “At least I hope they can’t. Vomiting up the stairs one night and sleeping with Laura the next. I mean, in staking a claim for best story, it’s difficult to beat.” Geri smiled at the memory, as did Stevie and Vic.

  “Unless you’re planning to vomit up this plush carpet and attempt to shag Kat yourself?” Geri asked Stevie.

  “Er, no!” Stevie visibly shuddered. “God, no!”

  “I hope not,” Vic added softly, pulling her close.

  At first Stevie resisted, but then something seemed to shift and she allowed Vic to manoeuvre her, allowed her body to melt into her.

  Vic took advantage by placing both arms firmly around Stevie’s waist.

  “I’m going to stick to kissing my wife if it’s all the same to you,” Stevie said. “But if Kat does vomit up the stairs again, she’s got a girlfriend here to clean it up this time, thankfully.”

  “Remember trying to clean the carpet?” Geri wrinkled her nose.

  “Don’t.” Stevie held up her right palm, her face going green.

  “I’m all for making new memories this time around, but preferably vomit-free,” Vic said. “I certainly remember better ones from ten years ago too. Like, for instance, me and Stevie getting together.”

  Stevie could sense Vic’s smile and she placed her hands on top of Vic’s hands, drawing them up to her mouth for a kiss.

  “God, last time around was a shagfest, wasn’t it?” Geri shook her head wistfully.

  “I think this time around, age has caught up with us. It’s called growing up,” Stevie replied.

  “Well I hope we haven’t all grown up too much,” Geri said. “Otherwise I might get a late train back to London and go out in Soho with Darren instead.”

  ***

  An hour later, Geri wrapped her knuckles three times on Stu’s door but didn’t bother waiting for an answer. Instead, she burst into his room to find him sat on his bed, mobile in hand, thumb poised over the keypad.

  “You ready, husband? I’ve been told to round up the troops.”

  Stu turned to look up at her, frowning. “Are you trying to re-enact university life completely by barging in like this? What if I’d been naked?” He put his phone back on the bedside table and got up, putting his wallet into his back pocket.

  “Nothing I haven’t seen before from you, Morgan.” Geri paused. “So are you nearly ready?”

  “Be down in a minute – just gotta send Darren a reply and brush my teeth.”

  “Okay – send him my love.” Geri pushed herself off his doorframe, steadying the sunglasses on top of her head. “You walking or villaging by the way?”

  “Walking – I need the exercise.”

  “Sure you do.” Geri saluted him and took the stairs two at a time.

  Abby was standing at the bottom frowning at her phone. She was wearing a 1950s inspired red-and-white skirt, a lightweight white top and a red, white and black scarf knotted loosely around her neck. She looked like an advert for a wholesome post-war lifestyle campaign. Where had Kat found her – on special in some retro shop?

  Geri saw her late and managed steer right, not flattening Abby completely. However, her lessened impact still knocked Abby’s iPhone from her grasp and it sailed into the air before crashing against the front door, the case coming off and the rest skittering horribly across the wooden floor.

  Geri stood frozen on the stairs, wincing as she awaited the news.

  Abby bent to retrieve her phone and didn’t get back up quickly.

  “Sorry – is it okay?” Geri already knew the answer.

  Abby shook her head but didn’t look up. “It’s buggered,” she said, easing herself upwards and holding out the phone to Geri. The screen was shattered and deathly black, making this now officially a day of mourning.

  “I’m so sorry, I should slow down.” Geri furrowed her brow. “It might still work though, it might just be the screen. Are you insured?”

  “Yes, but that’s not going to help me today is it?” Abby was not seeing the funny side yet. “I wanted to download some stuff in the village, reply to some emails.”

  “You’re coming with me?” Geri said.

  “We were,” Abby sulked.

  “You still can,” Geri enthused, clicking her fingers. “Look, we’ll do a bit of shopping, have a bit of lunch and you can use my iPhone to do all your mailing. Can’t you get a colleague to forward the important emails to my address?” Geri was smiling a bit too much.

  Abby pursed her lips but didn’t look convinced. “Maybe. Let me take this upstairs and see if I can get it working. If not, that could be a workaround.” Sorrow stained her face as she assessed the phone’s remains, cradling it gently.

  “See what you can do. I’ll wait in the kitchen.” If Geri had intended to rip out part of Abby’s soul, it was job well done.

  ***

  In the kitchen, Geri sat down and thumped her head onto the kitchen table.

  At the counter, Laura and Tash were making cheese and pickle sandwiches for lunch, wrapping them in cling film.

  Laura spun round at the sound. “What’s happened?”

  Geri lifted her head slowly. “I just killed Abby’s phone.”

  Tash put her hand to her chest. “I thought you were going to say you just killed Abby.” She held up her hand. “Just her phone… I can cope with that.”

  “I’m not sure Abby can.” Geri gave Tash a thin-lipped grimace.

  “I bet,” Laura smirked, turning towards Geri. “That phone is like a child to her.” She paused. “Deary me, you just killed Abby’s child.” Laura wagged her finger and laughed. “Bad Geri. Bad, baaaaad Geri.”

  “I think you might be right. Quick, let’s keep talking to block out the sound of wailing from upstairs.” Geri stood up and went to assess the couple’s efforts.

  “You guys are too much – you’ve even got a multi-pack of crisps. It’s a good job you did the shopping, I wouldn’t have thought of that.” Geri leant against the kitchen island, leaning over to steal a slice of cheese and getting a slapped hand from Tash.

  “Did you buy some Club biscuits, too? I’m almost sad I’m not coming with you now I’ve seen what you’re having for lunch.”

  “Want me to make you one, too?” Tash asked.

  Geri waved her hand. “You’re okay. Besides, I’m sure we’ll be headed somewhere fabulous for lunch, being that I’m going out with the cosmopolitan power couple.” Geri paused. “That is,
if they’re still talking to me and not sticking pins in a tiny version of me upstairs right now.”

  Geri sat back in her chair and assessed the couple in front of her. Tash and Laura were dressed in jeans, T-shirts and hoodies, ready to take on the coastal winds. Minus the kids, these two were definitely the pair she’d like to emulate because they seemed to have it all – love, sex, friendship, trust, the works.

  As if to prove it further, Tash ran a hand down Laura’s back as she leant across her for the cling film and Laura returned the favour by pecking Tash on the cheek.

  The door opened and Stu walked in with a small rucksack on his back, phone in hand, wraparound shades already in place. He looked tall and lithe and the logo on his zip-up top read ‘Hollister’. The room filled with the unmistakable scent of men’s grooming products.

  “I’m just going up the drive to see if I can catch Darren again. Shall I see you up there?” Stu waved his phone in his left hand.

  “Pick you up at the end of the drive.” Laura passed him a bag with his lunch in it.

  Stu held it up to inspect it before nodding his approval. “Thanks mum – see you up there.”

  The Village

  Geri read the welcome pack for the house while she waited in the kitchen for Kat and Abby to appear. That was another thing about couples: they seemed to take far longer than single people to get ready. The pack rated a pub called The Feathers in the local village and Geri made a mental note to check it out for lunch.

  The walkers had departed with their lunches on their backs and sturdy shoes on their feet, so the house felt strangely quiet after a rowdy mid-morning filled with eggs, toast and coffee. Geri had managed to persuade Stevie to run her up to the village and the group lauded her introduction of toasted slices of white Bloomer – the simple things in life were always the crowd-pleasers.

  She flicked her eyes up at the clock and saw it was just past midday – it’d been nearly half an hour since Abby disappeared to do emergency phone surgery. Geri tutted.

  To kill time, she headed into the lounge to take in the cinematic view – it was still there and still just as impressive in the early afternoon sun. She switched on the TV and Football Focus flickered into view, hosted by a trio of men in stiff shirts, one of them sporting flicked hair and a moustache that were straight out of central casting, circa 1976. One of the presenters made a sexist joke and the other two laughed for far longer than they should have. She sighed.

  Geri still followed the fortunes of her native Southampton FC and went with her dad whenever she was home to eat lukewarm pies and drink cooking lager. However, the racism, sexism and homophobia inherent in football made her blood hot with rage if she was exposed to the game for too long, so she preferred to keep it at arm’s length.

  She channel-surfed, ending up as she often did on a cooking show where a chirpy-looking young chef was tasking three teams to come up with the best meal from a limited set of ingredients in just one hour.

  It always amused Geri’s friends and family that she was so hooked on cooking shows, seeing as her kitchen was generally used for making tea and toast. Her sister had christened her the modern-day Carrie Bradshaw, and Geri often wished it was that nickname that had stuck. She was sure some of the knowledge she’d gleaned from these shows was bound to trickle down to her fingers one day though, then she’d amaze her guests with a show-stopping menu. It just hadn’t happened yet.

  Geri fiddled with her phone for a while, adopting what the group were now referring to as the ‘Abby frown’.

  After a few more minutes, the lounge door opened and Kat appeared, looking as sheepish and red-eyed as she had over breakfast.

  “About time – thought you’d died up there. I was just going to send a search party.”

  “Sorry – time ran away.” Kat looked apologetic. “Anyhow, we’re ready now – shall we?” She idly picked something in her ear as she said this.

  Geri flicked off the TV as she stood, slipping her small bag over her head. “Phone, wallet, ready.”

  She followed Kat out into the hall where Abby was standing, looking like she was about to do a photoshoot rather than go for lunch and a spot of shopping.

  “How’s your phone?” Geri asked.

  Abby gave her a tight-lipped smile. “It’s still kinda working but the screen’s buggered. I’ll have to get a new one, but I can borrow Kat’s for today.”

  “Great,” Geri said. “And I’m sorry again.”

  Abby said nothing. She clearly wanted to punch her.

  “Do you know where we’re going Gimps?” Kat asked over her shoulder, before covering her mouth. “I mean Geri.”

  Geri rolled her eyes. “Yeah, where we went for bread this morning. It’s not far.”

  The heavy front door closed with a satisfying thud and the gravel churned underfoot as the trio headed towards Kat’s green Beetle.

  Geri was looking forward to the day she could justify having a car – maybe when she met the right woman and moved to the suburbs with two cats. She planned to blow a large chunk of her monthly budget on one just like this. She and Kat had taken many day trips in it when they were both single, windows down, music blaring.

  “I love this car, have I mentioned that before?” Geri clambered into the back, banging her head as she did.

  “Once or twice,” Kat said. She clicked the seat back into place, got in and started the engine. “Is it left at the end?”

  “Yep – then just keep going. I found a pub that looks good for lunch, by the way.” Geri leant forward between their two front seats as Kat steered the car out of the drive. It was where Geri seemed to spend most of her life these days, the single friend in the back seat.

  “Good work.” Kat looked left and right as they came to a junction.

  Abby already had both her and Kat’s phones in her lap expectantly and kept glancing downwards to see if the reception had got any better.

  Geri couldn’t quite detect the mood of her host couple this lunchtime but they seemed civil enough for now. She hoped it stayed that way.

  As Kat steered the car down the narrow country lanes, Geri marvelled again that this was England – an England she never saw usually, only ever on TV. But once you escaped the M25 she knew that most of the country was exactly like this – green and pleasant. Fields spilled out before her on either side, hedges and fences guiding their path with grazing animals dotted throughout as if staged.

  Just as Geri was beginning to entertain thoughts about moving to the country and starting a fudge business with a herd of dairy cows and a sexy milkmaid, Kat swerved to avoid a dead animal, swearing loudly.

  “Was that a badger?” Abby asked, her voice rising. She twisted in her seat to get a better look, as did Geri.

  “Think so,” Geri said over her shoulder. “There were a few on the drive here, too.” Geri dropped back into her seat and swallowed – her saliva tasted of fudge. She might have to buy some later.

  “And there was me thinking the country was a safe place for animals.” Abby patted the top of her hair, checking it was still there.

  “Fewer cars than the city, put it that way,” Geri replied.

  “I guess,” Abby mumbled, not really registering the reply. She held up her phone and Geri saw Kat glancing over at her.

  “Anything yet?” Kat asked.

  Abby nodded briskly. “I think I’m getting that file I needed yesterday – finally. I might have to call Nick when we stop – so long as we still have a signal. Honestly, how do people survive here?”

  Geri had a few answers, but thought it best to keep them to herself.

  The trio pulled into the picturesque village five minutes later and Abby was thrilled to have reception – it was the happiest Geri had seen her since they’d arrived. The sun was still shining so Kat and Geri agreed to leave Abby in the car and text her where to meet them for lunch.

  Abby looked like someone had just granted her favourite wish.

&
nbsp; ***

  The village was probably considered more of a town in these parts, but was definitely more village to these two Londoners as they strolled up the High Street. There were a sprinkling of what Geri would class as ‘hippy shops’ selling joss sticks, candles and precious stones, along with moon charts and over-priced jewellery. A book shop, a butcher, a bakery, a few more gift stores and three Chinese takeaways were also visible on a first glance up the main road.

  What’s more, the foodie and home decor revolution hadn’t missed this part of Devon. Right in front of them was a kitchen store with a window display of cool breadbins – since when did breadbins get funky? Next to that was a bathroom store showcasing a selection of wet rooms that nobody had space for, along with some tiles that probably retailed for around £50 each. On the other side of the kitchen shop was a small garden centre with a healthy array of gargoyles littering the pavement in front of it.

  “Tempted?” Geri asked Kat as they stopped in front of a statue of two grinning frogs hugging each other.

  “Shame I don’t have a garden, isn’t it?” Kat replied.

  The other thing that struck Geri as they strolled back up the road was that every store had a small Union Jack flying on a miniature pole above the door. Had they stumbled into the most patriotic village in the UK? Or perhaps they were all like this.

  As they approached the middle of the High Street, Geri saw the pub from the welcome pack. She and Kat stopped to peer through the window. There were a smattering of blokes at the bar but, significantly, it looked modern and was flooded with natural light, thanks to its massive wraparound windows.

  “Looks like a pub,” Kat said.

  “Got chairs and tables,” Geri added, still looking in the window.

  “Serves beer. Shall we lunch here?” Kat stood back and shielded her eyes from the sun.

  Geri nodded and a look passed between the two, followed by a cheesy grin.

  Kat looked at her watch. “Too early for a beer?”

  “Gone midday,” Geri said, walking past Kat and into the pub. “You can text Abby and tell her to meet us here.”

  Kat raised one eyebrow. “You’re a genius, you know?” she said to Geri’s back, slapping it as they walked into The Feathers.

 

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