Brand New Friend

by Mike Gayle

  Rob shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

  ‘I do,’ said Ashley. ‘Believe me, I can see the change in you. It’s almost like you’ve been given a new lease on life.’

  Suddenly Rob felt uncomfortable. ‘Do you fancy going out to dinner somewhere nice next week?’

  Ashley scrutinised him. ‘Why do you always do that?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘I’ve noticed recently that every now and again when we’re talking about one thing you change the subject for no good reason.’

  ‘I don’t do I?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ashley, ‘you do. Is something wrong?’

  ‘No,’ said Rob. ‘I just want to take you out. Is it a crime to want to spend some quality time with your girlfriend when she’s been working so hard?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Ashley, only half joking. ‘But how about this? Instead of you taking me out for dinner next week why don’t we invite Joe round for the evening? I’m dying to meet him. It’s weird that you’ve said so little about him. I’ve got a picture in my head of him being a cross between Phil and Woodsy. Is that what he’s like?’

  ‘You want Jo to come round for dinner?’ spluttered Rob.

  ‘Nothing too flashy. A simple supper, really. It would be nice to meet him. After all, we’ve spent tonight with my friends so it’s only fair I do the same with yours. Plus I’d like the opportunity to get to know him.’ She laughed and added, ‘Y’know, make sure he’s not leading you astray.’

  ‘Jo’s really busy next week,’ said Rob. ‘A lot on at work, apparently.’

  ‘Does that mean you won’t be seeing him for a drink then?’ said Ashley. ‘You’ll be miserable if you don’t.’

  Rob cursed himself inwardly. Through her unfailing niceness Ashley had got him well and truly boxed in. If he gave her the impression that Jo was too busy to come to dinner he wouldn’t be able to see her, but if he told her Jo was free she wouldn’t rest until he had agreed to proffer the invitation.

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ said Rob, ‘how about this? I’ll give Jo a call, find out how next week’s looking and arrange a date. How does that sound?’

  ‘Excellent.’

  With his brain working overtime as he tried to think of a way out of the situation Rob headed into the hallway to get his mobile phone from the table where he’d left it. He scrolled through the numbers until he found Jo’s, which rather than being located under her Christian name ‘Jo’ was under her surname ‘Richards’.

  ‘It’s me,’ said Rob, when she answered.

  ‘Hey, you,’ she said. ‘What are you up to?’

  Rob laughed nervously. ‘I was just wondering how you’re fixed next week.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, are you busy?’

  ‘If you mean had I planned to spend every night next week rewatching my small but perfectly formed DVD collection, the answer is yes. Although I’d planned to see you – oh, and Kerry’s invited me to hers next Friday, but other than that it’s just me and the DVDs. Why?’

  ‘Because Ashley wants to invite you round for dinner.’

  ‘She wants me to come to yours?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘For dinner?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘How did she sound when she asked you?’

  ‘What do you mean, “How did she sound?” She sounded like Ashley.’

  ‘The thing is, Rob, you’ve never really told me how Ashley is about you hanging out with me. I never liked to ask because I thought it wasn’t my business. But . . . I don’t know . . . I’m pretty sure that if Sean had started hanging out with some girl he’d met down the pub I’d want to invite her round for dinner so that I could get close enough to her to scratch her eyes out.’ Jo laughed. ‘I’m only joking but you know what I mean. You and I know that there’s nothing going on between us but I just want to know that Ashley’s cool with us being friends because . . . well because I don’t want my eyes scratched out – I sort of need them for seeing and stuff.’

  ‘Oh, she’s fine about it,’ said Rob, preparing to stretch the truth right to its elastic limits. ‘That’s why she wants you to come round. She was just saying that hanging out with you has made me a much less miserable bugger to live with.’

  ‘Really?’ said Jo, evidently impressed. ‘Well, in that case I’d love to come.’

  ‘How does Thursday night sound?’ asked Rob.

  ‘Great,’ said Jo. ‘Tell Ashley I’m really looking forward to it.’

  Rob pressed the end-call button and sat down on the bottom stair to contemplate his situation. Jo had been right: he had never told her how Ashley felt about them being friends because many women, unlike men, lived by a weird honour-based belief system that meant empathy was obligatory with the sufferings of womankind in general. It was why Rob’s mother was obsessed with the books of Catherine Cookson, and why Ashley was more affected by the medical problems of women her own age than anyone else’s. And it was why Jo had imagined herself in Ashley’s shoes even though they had never met. And Rob had reasoned that if he told Jo the truth, it might have resulted in Jo empathising so much with Ashley that she might have come to the conclusion that their friendship would be impossible to maintain, and that was something he didn’t want to happen if he could help it.

  Now, of course, he was in an impossible position. Ashley was going to meet Jo and World War Three would break out. Of this he had no doubt. In his life, Rob had only ever witnessed women at war in disputes over men. From long-ago hair-pulling scream-a-thons in Bedford’s Shangri-la wine bar to hard stares and the occasional If-I-see-that-bitch-talking-to-my-boyfriend-again-there’ll-be-trouble’ at London venues in his twenties, the cause was always the same: men.

  Girlfriend meets girl friend

  It was five to eight and Rob was in the kitchen with Ashley, helping her put the finishing touches to the starter they would soon be eating: grilled goat’s cheese with a lemon and pepper dressing. Since she’d got home from the supermarket Ashley had already prepared the main course (swordfish steaks in a Japanese marinade with new potatoes and broad beans) and had asked him make sure the house was tidy.

  Today was D-day. And, as far as Rob was concerned, the end of life as he knew it. Perhaps even the end of life itself. Rob couldn’t help but feel short-changed that instead of the usual fourscore and twenty he was getting a measly thirty-three years, even though, on the whole, they had been quite good ones. Ashley would detonate the moment she found out that Joe was Jo. He could see no way round it. Several times during the week he had wondered whether it might be safer to confess all before the dinner took place but each time he had concluded that a better option would be to bury his head a bit deeper in the sand and hope for a miracle.

  ‘Can you pass me the pepper?’ asked Ashley.

  He handed her the peppermill. ‘Anything else I can do?’

  ‘The table’s set?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The merlot’s open?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The chardonnay’s in the fridge with the mineral water?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve put some music on in the living room?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then that’s it,’ she said. ‘We’re ready – apart from one thing.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You need to kiss me.’

  He kissed her so intensely that she dropped the peppermill.

  ‘I’ll have more of that later,’ she said.

  Now was the moment to tell her everything. ‘Listen, babe,’ Rob began, ‘there’s something I need to—’

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘There’s something you need to what?’ asked Ashley, straightening her clothes.

  ‘Nothing.’ He was all out of time. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

  ‘Okay, sweetie,’ replied Ashley. She twirled in front of Rob. ‘How do I look?’

  She was wearing jeans and a grey-patterned floaty top that showed off her bare shoulders. Rob
thought she was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. ‘You look amazing, babe. Absolutely amazing.’

  ‘Thanks. You look great too. You’d better go and let Joe in.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Rob. ‘Of course.’

  He got as far as the kitchen door before he was compelled to stop and turn around. As this was what he imagined would be one of his last moments on earth he thought he should say some poignant final words by which Ashley might remember him. ‘Listen,’ he began, ‘I just want you to know that this means a lot to me. You’ve been really cool about it.’

  ‘It’s no big deal,’ said Ashley. ‘Honestly. I’ve got a really good feeling about tonight.’

  ‘Me too,’ lied Rob. He crossed the room, kissed her lips again, then headed back into the hallway. At the door he paused in front of the mirror to check himself, and wondered if he had chosen the correct attire for the first meeting between his platonic female friend and his girlfriend. What was the etiquette? Smart? Casual? Ever one to hedge his bets, Rob had gone for smart-casual and was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. He wiped a smudge of Ashley’s pink lipstick off his lips, took a deep breath and opened the front door.

  A grinning Jo was standing on the doorstep in a linen jacket and jeans, holding a bottle of wine. She looked prettier than ever. She had done something different to her hair, and her skin was glowing. And for the first time (albeit briefly) the thought popped into his head: If I was single I could actually really fancy her.

  ‘I think I’m a bit early,’ she said, apologetically, as she offered him the bottle of wine. ‘This is for you and Ashley.’

  ‘Cheers,’ said Rob, taking it as she stepped into the house. ‘That’s really kind.’ He kissed her cheek.

  ‘How have you been today?’ she asked, as she unbuttoned her jacket.

  ‘Fine,’ said Rob. ‘No worries. How about you?’

  ‘I’ve been feeling a bit jittery all day,’ said Jo. ‘Are you sure Ashley’s okay with this?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Rob reassured her.

  ‘And she’s not just saying that?’

  ‘No,’ said Rob. ‘She’s not.’

  ‘And she’s not going to suddenly reach for a steak knife and stab me to death for hanging out with her boyfriend?’

  ‘I’ve told you a million times,’ said Rob, ‘she’s been the coolest girlfriend in the world. She’s just pleased that I’m feeling a bit more settled.’

  ‘I’m so glad,’ said Jo, and breathed a sigh of relief, ‘because if she wasn’t this could be a long, painful evening—’ She stopped and stared at Rob. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Rob was staring intently at her top – a floaty grey-patterned thing that showed off her bare shoulders.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jo, nervously. ‘Do you think it’s horrible?’

  ‘No.’ Rob found his voice. ‘It’s not that. It’s just that . . . It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘It’ll be fine.’

  And that was the moment when Ashley stepped out of the kitchen to meet ‘Joe’.

  Girlfriend versus girl friend

  The second Jo saw Ashley and Ashley saw Jo everything – for Rob – went into slow motion.

  On seeing Jo, Ashley looked momentarily confused.

  On seeing Ashley’s top, Jo looked momentarily crestfallen.

  But in keeping with the ability of their sex to cope in a crisis both women recovered their composure in an instant. With a beaming smile Ashley held out her hand. ‘Hi,’ she said, as Jo took it. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you. You must be Joe’s girlfriend. Rob didn’t tell me his new best friend was bringing a guest,’ she glared at Rob, ‘but I always cook more than I need to so I’m sure it’ll stretch.’

  Had it been possible to view the inside of Rob’s head at that moment, one would have seen what is known technically as ‘total brain meltdown’. For a few seconds he was convinced he couldn’t hear and that his vision was blurred. His knees were weak and he had an overwhelming urge to use the toilet. At the same time, his mind was chanting in time to his rapidly accelerating heartbeat. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so stupid? Which after a while was modified: Two women wearing the same top. Two women wearing the same top. Two women wearing the same top. And then, seconds later, became: I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die.

  As his panic subsided Rob opened his eyes to see that the two women wearing the same top were staring at him, one for explanation, the other for leadership, and then at each other.

  ‘Er, Ash,’ said Rob, throatily, ‘can I see you in the kitchen?’

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Ashley. ‘Where’s Joe?’

  Rob looked at Jo, who was now looking only marginally less worried than he was, and said, ‘Erm . . . do you mind taking a seat in the living room while I have a quick chat to Ash?’

  Jo obediently left them, and they headed for the kitchen.

  ‘What’s going on, Rob?’ asked Ashley, when they were out of earshot. ‘Is this about Joe’s girlfriend wearing the same top as me? I don’t know which of us was more embarrassed. She looked horrified. I can go and change mine if it’s going to be a problem.’ Ashley laughed. ‘Still, it’s one way to break the ice. She’s very pretty, don’t you think?’

  ‘She’s – she’s – she’s all right,’ stuttered Rob.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ asked Ashley, impatiently. ‘It’s only dinner with another couple.’

  ‘There’s something you haven’t quite . . . understood,’ began Rob. ‘It’s like this . . . There’s a little bit of a problem to do with Jo.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well, the problem is . . . Jo is not exactly . . . I don’t know how to put it . . .’

  ‘Just come out with it.’

  Rob took a deep breath. ‘Well, you know the woman sitting in the living room wearing the same top as you?’

  Ashley nodded.

  ‘That’s Jo.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Are you saying your friend Joe has got a girlfriend called Jo?’

  ‘No. I’m saying that the person in the living room is Jo. She’s who I’ve been hanging out with all this time.’

  Ashley looked confused. ‘But Joe’s a man, isn’t he?’

  ‘No,’ said Rob. ‘Jo is a woman.’

  ‘A woman?’

  ‘I met her at that party Miranda threw for Carl and then I bumped into her in the Lazy Fox the night I decided to become a pint-and-crossword man. We got talking and, well . . . we got on. At the time I wondered if you’d mind me hanging out with her and I decided you would so I didn’t see her again. But then I had that bloke-date with Veejay and . . . well, my resolve crumbled. I told myself I was making a big deal out of nothing – after all, you and Neil are mates and nothing’s going on there – and I decided . . . why not? I’ve been hanging out with her ever since.’

  Rob could see from Ashley’s face that his explanation was far from adequate.

  ‘You’re telling me that all the time you’ve been talking about Jo, spelt J-O, you let me think you were talking about a J-O-E?’ she asked, teeth gritted.

  ‘Look,’ said Rob, defensively, ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘That explains everything,’ said Ashley. ‘I could never understand why your sentence construction went all weird whenever you spoke about your friend Jo. It was because you didn’t want to use the words “she” and “her”, wasn’t it? You must think I’m really stupid.’

  ‘No,’ said Rob. ‘And I can explain. You know as well as I do that I’ve tried a million and one ways to make new friends up here and nothing’s worked. It’s not your fault or mine. It’s just the way things are. We want to be together, and I moved here so that we could. But I haven’t found it easy to make friends and, well, Jo was the first person in Manchester I met whom I can hang out with and just be me.’

  ‘Well, I’m very pleased for you,’ snapped Ashley, ‘but you’ve made a right fool of me.’

  ‘I didn’t mean t
o,’ said Rob. ‘You said yourself I didn’t need your permission to do anything.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,’ said Ashley. ‘Do you think that after the underhand way you’ve been skulking around behind my back I’m going to be okay about you being friends with a woman?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Rob. ‘All I know is that everybody needs friends. And no matter how much I love you, you can’t be everything to me, can you?’

  ‘Well, that’s tough,’ said Ashley, ‘because now you’ve got no choice. It’s up to you. Her or me.’

  ‘You’re not really trying to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with?’ said Rob, part dismayed and part indignant. ‘Are you really issuing me with an ultimatum?’

  ‘It is what it is,’ said Ashley, coolly.

  He knew she wasn’t bluffing, just as she hadn’t been when she’d told him it was all over unless he moved to Manchester. When it came to brinkmanship she was a master and Rob a mere amateur. He didn’t want to lose Jo – but there was no way he could afford to lose Ashley: she was The One.

  ‘So, what’s it to be?’ asked Ashley, after a few moments.

  ‘Doesn’t look like I’ve got much choice, does it?’ replied Rob, despondently. ‘I’ll tell her to go.’

  He had got as far as the kitchen door when Ashley said, ‘Stop.’

  ‘What now?’ He turned to face her. ‘Do you want to start telling me what clothes I should be wearing?’

  ‘Forget it,’ snapped Ashley. ‘Just make sure she’s out of my house right now.’

  Rob slammed the door after him and stormed into the living room, where Jo was sitting, clearly pretending not to have overheard the heated conversation coming from the kitchen.

  ‘I’m really sorry about this,’ said Rob, ‘but you’ll have to go.’

  Jo stood up. ‘I knew this was a bad idea,’ she said.

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with you. This is about me and Ash. I can’t believe she’s being such a hypocrite. I mean, she’s been close mates with a guy called Neil for as long as I’ve known her and I’ve never even raised an eyebrow.’ He exhaled angrily. ‘What does she think’s going to happen? That you and I are going to have an affair? If we were going to do that why would I introduce you to her in the first place? She’s not thinking straight.’