by Lindsey Kelk
Sarah’s shoulders curled up for a moment before she forced them back down. ‘Back to lawyer talk − I went to talk to one. This woman at my office got divorced last year and she recommended her. It sounds stupid, but the divorce is going to be harder because no one fucked up. The only way we can get it done now is if one of us sues for adultery or unreasonable behaviour. I don’t want to wait two years to prove separation.’
‘There was that time he came in shit-faced and ate all the chocolate out of your advent calendars and knocked over the tree,’ I said. ‘That was pretty unreasonable.’
‘I think it’s going to take more than that to convince a judge,’ she said. ‘I did think about going round to his mother’s house and kicking a few windows in to speed up the process, but I’ll be damned if I’m paying for that witch’s double-glazing.’
‘Fair.’
‘The best bet is for me to meet an incredibly attractive and successful man who wants to sweep me off my feet,’ she said, pausing to tighten her topknot. ‘And then he can sue me for adultery. My lawyer is actually telling me to go out and get laid. She actually said I need to get back on the horse.’
‘Why do people keep saying that?’ I asked. ‘If I had a horse and I fell off it, I would never get back on. I would sell it for glue and have a happy life full of no horses and free Pritt Sticks.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Sarah said, gulping down the rest of her drink. ‘I can barely stand to look at the horses. If a horse came near me, I’d probably punch it in the face.’
‘On the plus side, you’ve still got more experience than anyone I’ve ever met,’ I reminded her. Sarah had been very social while we were at university. It was a pretty big surprise to everyone when she got married so young, but as she explained at the time, she’d sown more oats than Quaker and she was ready to settle down. ‘So that’s something.’
‘Surely Lauren has outdone me by now?’ she said, scratching her nose. If I didn’t know her, I’d want to slap her. She was far too pretty for someone wearing NHS specs. ‘And you’re on the market now.’
‘I feel like I’ve been on the market for ages.’ I pushed my toes in and out of my shoes. They were higher than I remembered and the balls of my feet were burning. ‘Like, a rubbish market where you get secondhand DVDs and fake Man United shirts.’
‘You’re on the New York stock exchange,’ Sarah said, smiling. ‘You’re Harrods. Maybe not Harrods − it’s a bit tacky. How about Harvey Nicks?’
‘Thanks.’ I gave a smile back, eyes darting over to the door when three men walked in. Nope. ‘I really hope you find the courage to let a stupid hot man shag you rotten and allow your husband to sue you for adultery.’
‘You’re so sweet,’ she replied. ‘Have you heard from Lauren this week? She’s been so quiet.’
‘It’s all going to be fine,’ I lied. ‘I’ve had a few emails.’
I’d had seventeen emails, one hundred and thirteen text messages and one hour-long phone call. In the past forty-eight hours.
‘I’m trying not to freak out,’ Sarah said, beaming at the waitress when she offered to bring us another round. ‘And I want to be there for her, but it’s going to be difficult at best.’
‘I know,’ I said, necking my G&T to make room for the next. If I was going to continue to lie so impressively, I would need more alcohol in me. ‘But I’m going to be there to buffer her. If you start feeling overwhelmed, we can choose a safe word and I’ll get you out of there. Something like “banana”.’
Sarah’s face immediately did that strange tightening thing that people do when they’re about to start crying.
‘Oh God, that wasn’t your actual safe word, was it?’ I asked, mortified and horrified in equal measure.
She shook her head. ‘How am I going to help my friend plan a wedding when I’m going through a divorce?’ she muttered, running her finger over the spot where her wedding ring had been. There was still an indentation, but only just. Ten years erased in a little over a week.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ I promised. ‘And if need be, very heavily drugged. Lauren’s mum has always got all kinds of exciting American pills. We’ll sort you out.’
She nodded, trying to convince herself that she agreed with me.
‘Have you seen him yet?’ I asked. ‘Stephen?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen my husband in almost two weeks. How mental is that? It’s the longest we’ve ever been apart. I just keep thinking, what if we hadn’t had that stupid row about wine …’
She drifted off for a moment, staring out of the window. ‘Fuck it − sorry, Mads. I don’t want to ruin your evening,’ she said.
‘Not even,’ I said, kicking her gently under the table. ‘Do you want to leave?’
‘No,’ she said, giving herself a shake and settling back in her seat. She turned her attention away from the window and towards the dark, wood-panelled bar. It really was wall-to-wall suits. If I didn’t already have an agenda, I’d be giddy as a kipper, there was so much three-piece porn. ‘What made you choose this place? It’s so not you.’
‘So, you’ll laugh −’ I started, knowing she in fact would not − ‘but I thought Will might be here.’
Sarah looked me dead in the eye.
‘You dragged me halfway across London to drink overpriced gin in a sausagefest pub because you thought the bloke you shagged on the weekend might be here?’ she asked as the waitress put fresh drinks in front of us with a smile neither of us returned. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes?’
‘And you didn’t tell me?’
‘No?’
Sarah took a long sip of her G&T and studied me through her non-prescription lenses.
‘Does he know you’re coming?’
‘No,’ I said, tapping my fingertips against my glass.
She took another sip and considered the information.
‘You should have told me,’ she replied eventually. ‘And you should have got changed. What the fuck are you wearing?’
‘It’s nice!’ I squealed, looking down at my navy blue dress with its little white collar. ‘Isn’t it nice?’
‘It is nice, yeah,’ Sarah replied. ‘That’s the problem. Aren’t you trying to get this bloke to sleep with you? That dress makes you look like you want to buy a carton of Ribena and then skip down the beach holding hands.’
Didn’t sound like a bad afternoon out to me.
‘It’s not like you’ve got them out, is it?’ I said, pointing to her buttoned-up shirt and high-waisted shorts combo. ‘Everyone knows men hate shorts over tights.’
Sarah regularly told me she wore them as a rape deterrent when walking through East London on her own, and Lauren regularly waited for her to go to the toilet to tell me they were an all-out penis repellent, be it consensual or otherwise.
‘Good, I hate men,’ she said, smoothing down her shirt front. ‘Anyway, I don’t dress to pick up lawyers. I dress to pick up tech entrepreneurs and men who are too old to be in bands but haven’t given up the dream.’
‘I’m dressed like a four-year-old,’ I realized. ‘This is why I never pull, isn’t it?’
‘There are so many reasons why you never pull,’ she said, nodding. ‘Now, in a vain attempt to take your mind off your ridiculous dress, what’s happening with that job? Did you give HR my CV?’
‘Too late,’ I said, staring at the doorway and not really hearing her. ‘That’s Will. He just walked in.’
As the double doors flew open, a power ballad started playing in my head and Will strode towards the bar in slow motion while tossing his head back in uproarious laughter at something one of his dodgy-looking friends had said. Honestly, he had to be the most attractive man I had ever seen. It was beyond me why everyone woman in the bar wasn’t trying to hump his leg as he walked.
‘Which one?’ Sarah asked, destroying my soft-rock fantasy and craning her neck as Will and his three friends sauntered over to the bar. ‘Which one is he?’
&nbs
p; I tried to nod towards him without drawing attention to myself. It was very strange, desperately wanting him to notice me and at the same time wanting to disappear into a hole underneath the table and find myself mysteriously transported to my settee, under a blanket, watching reruns of Friends and eating a very big pizza.
‘Blue striped tie,’ I whispered. ‘Brown man-bag. Close-shaved head.’
‘Oh, I recognize him from the photos. He’s fit,’ Sarah said, absently rubbing the leg of her corduroy shorts as she stared. ‘Good work. Are you going to go and say hello?’
‘No.’ I looked at her as though she was quite mad. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because you dragged me out to Holborn to sit in a pub just in case a man you shagged might show up? And he has?’
‘So?’ Sometimes she was very stupid.
‘You’ve lost me,’ she said. ‘You came here to talk to him and now you don’t want to talk to him?’
‘I want him to come and talk to me,’ I said, my entire body still burning. ‘I’m not going over there. He’ll think I came here on purpose.’
‘Mads, you did come here on purpose.’
‘But I don’t want him to know that, do I?’
I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt − she was newly separated, after all − but fucking hell, how dense can you be?
‘So we sit here, drinking our drinks, chat shit and wait for him to notice you?’ Sarah asked.
I pulled out my lipstick and coyly reapplied. ‘Yes.’
Sarah rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, chucking her G&T down her throat. ‘Fine. So how many emails has Lauren really sent you about the wedding?’
Thirty-seven minutes and another drink later, Sarah was starting to get annoyed. We’d discussed Blake Lively’s baby, the appropriateness of thigh-high socks and exactly what Diet Coke was made of, and I was definitely getting a bit too tipsy for my own good.
‘You don’t think it’s a bit silly sitting across the bar from a man you’ve had sex with twice and pretending you haven’t seen him?’ Sarah asked, hoisting up her tights. ‘You’re thirty-bloody-one, Maddie. Go over and say hello.’
‘But what if he’s seen me and he’s ignoring me?’ There were no two ways about it, I was starting to panic. Ever since he’d walked into the bar, I’d been anxious. My brain was full of gin and adrenaline, and it was all getting to be a bit too much.
‘Then he ought to have his balls chopped off and posted home to his mum,’ she said, slamming her glass down on the table. ‘You’ve got five minutes to go and talk to him or I’ll go and talk to him for you, and then it really will feel like we’re sixteen again.’
‘What do I say?’ I said, turning to look at my quarry. ‘What do I do?’
‘Maddie, two days ago, you saw fit to get naked with this man and let him put assorted parts of his body inside assorted parts of your body—’
‘Not that assorted,’ I interrupted. ‘It was pretty straightforward stuff.’
‘Shut up,’ Sarah instructed. ‘What I’m saying is, if you can have sex with a complete stranger but you can’t have a conversation with him, something’s wrong. And not with him.’
I knew she was right, but this was definitely one of those ‘easier said than done’ scenarios. Dropping your knickers is considerably less emotionally dangerous than saying ‘I like you’. Everyone knows that. Only someone who has recently gone through the trauma of hearing someone say ‘I don’t like you at all and would like a divorce, please’ would think otherwise.
‘Has he given you any reason at all to think he might be a wanker?’ she asked. ‘Other than by being a man. Which isn’t his fault.’
‘No,’ I said, spinning the cardboard coaster on the tabletop. ‘He’s been nice. Very texty.’
‘Then go and say hello,’ she said, pointing across the busy bar to where Will stood with his back to me. ‘You’re on your way to the bar, you’re dead casual, you’re here meeting me, you’re not a mental who tracked him down because you were too impatient to wait for him to ask you out again, and then we’re going to get some dinner because I’m fucking starving and all they’ve got here are Kettle Chips. Isn’t there a Nando’s around here? Do you fancy Nando’s?’
I did fancy Nando’s. I fancied it a lot more than trotting across the now very crowded bar and interrupting Will when he was with all his friends on a Friday night. What was I thinking? This was the worst idea ever. I’m destroying this before it has even started, I told myself. I’m standing right in front of him. I’m—
‘Maddie?’
‘Will?’
I’m an idiot.
‘Hello!’
He pulled me into a big, filthy, squishy hug, right there, in front of everyone, and kissed me on the cheek.
I’m a genius.
‘Hello,’ I said, determined not to stutter or blush or fall over or do any other terrible things that would make for a fantastic story at brunch tomorrow but basically ruin my life. Not to make too big a deal out of this. ‘What’s up?’
‘Just getting a drink with the boys,’ he said, waving his pint at three other men in shirts and ties of assorted muted colours. ‘Boys, this is Maddie. She was at Ian’s wedding at the weekend.’
The boys waved and smirked and let their eyes dart over my covered-up breasts. Sarah had been right about the dress. Between the beers they’d been putting away and the warmth of the bar, they all had bright pink cheeks and sheepish grins, giving them a definite air of overgrown schoolboys. Every man looked sexy in a suit and every man looked ridiculous when he rolled up his sleeves and undid his tie. Top button undone and tie loosened, hot. Top three buttons undone and tie completely unfastened and you’re Paul the Perv at the office Christmas party. It was one small step away from tying it round your forehead and doing the dance to ‘Wig-Wam Bam’.
‘Twice in one week,’ he said, smiling. ‘How lucky am I? What brings you to this neck of the woods?’
‘Stalking you,’ I replied, gurgling with manic laughter.
Will stared at me for a moment.
Oh, Maddie, shut up …
And then he laughed.
‘I was meeting my friend Sarah,’ I said quickly before he had a chance to realize I wasn’t actually joking. I pointed back at our table where Sarah was staring intently at the screen of her phone. ‘She works round the corner.’
She didn’t work round the corner, but he could work that out in his own time.
‘Love it when you bump into people,’ Will said, still smiling. His friends closed ranks and moved ever so slightly away from us, leaving us to our actual official conversation. ‘How’s the rest of your week been?’
‘Shit,’ I replied automatically. ‘We’ve got a new assistant and she’s ridiculous.’ SHARALINE. ‘How about yours?’
‘Manic,’ he said, nodding. ‘Took on a huge new case. Been in the office till midnight more or less every night other than Wednesday.’
‘Wow,’ I said, copying his head-bobbing. My lipstick felt too thick and my mouth felt too dry − it was horrible. ‘That sounds tough.’
‘I leave the work at work − it’s the only way to cope,’ he said, smiling again, and I stopped worrying about my lipstick. Mostly. ‘What’s on the agenda for tonight then?’
I wondered if he’d fancy getting a Nando’s with me and Sarah.
We’re probably leaving soon,’ I said, leaving the offer of Portuguese chicken off the table for the time being.
‘Yeah, these lightweights were talking about going home as well,’ he said, rubbing his stubbly head. ‘Friday gets harder when you get older, doesn’t it?’
I wanted to rub his stubbly head. And then I remembered how his stubbly head felt on my thighs and suddenly I came over all unnecessary. Who knew Action-Man hair could be so bloody sexy?
‘Yes,’ I said robotically. ‘Friday is hard.’
‘Well, if you’re leaving and I’m leaving …’ Will leaned forward until I could feel his breath in my hair, on
my neck. ‘Why don’t we leave together?’
‘I thought you were tired?’ I said, blushing, stumbling and stuttering all at once.
‘Not that tired.’ His hand moved down my waist to rest right on a place that could still be considered socially acceptable. ‘I’ll get my card from behind the bar and I’ll meet you outside in five. You flag down a cab.’
‘OK,’ I mumbled, wondering how to break my abandonment to Sarah. ‘I’ll be outside.’
With one last slutty look he smiled, squeezed my hip and turned back to the bar. With one last trip over my own feet, I ran across the room.
‘Well?’
‘He wants to go home,’ I said very quickly. ‘He wants to go home right now.’
‘Loser,’ she said, slipping her phone in her bag. ‘Nando’s for two then.’
‘Oh … no.’ I pulled my best ‘please don’t hate me’ face, knowing that she was well within her rights to hate me. ‘He wants to come home with me.’
‘But you’re not going home,’ Sarah said. ‘We’re going to Nando’s.’
I pursed my lips and tried to think of the best way to put it. ‘Yes, we were going to do that,’ I agreed. ‘But if I went home with him instead, would that be a terrible, terrible thing?’
‘You’re asking if it would be bad to ditch your lifelong best friend, who is going through a horrible separation and has always been there for you, just so you can go and shag some bloke you met at a wedding last weekend?’
‘That more or less covers it, yes.’
‘You’re the worst friend ever,’ she declared.
‘I am.’
‘And you owe me a massive one.’
‘The biggest one ever.’
Sarah looked across the room at Will and then back at me.
‘You like him, don’t you?’ she said, pulling the strap of her leather messenger bag over her head.
‘I do,’ I said, colouring up from gin and vulnerability. ‘I like him.’
‘Then go on,’ she said, waving me away. ‘Consider me your fairy wingman. Have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, wrapping her up in a huge hug. ‘I’ll make it up to you. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be the best wingman ever. I’ll be Goose.’
