by Jane Fallon
‘Actually,’ I say, before I can stop myself, ‘we’re having a little Christmas do tomorrow night, me and Dan. Only a few of our friends and their kids, but if you’d like to come? Kay’s coming…’ What am I doing? Five minutes ago we hated each other, why is she going to want to come and spend time at my house?
‘Really?’ she says, and I say, ‘Absolutely.’
‘Then I’d love to.’
The next day and a half goes by in a haze of champagne drinking – first Joshua then Dan and then Isabel insist on toasting my success – and excited planning. I’m full of ideas about the heights I can take my motley crew of clients to. I’m bursting with energy, bouncing out of bed at six thirty in the morning, getting in to work by eight. I haven’t felt like this for years, since… In fact, I don’t know since what, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like this before. Lorna continues to be friendly but reserved and, as always when people are nice to you, it’s impossible not to be friendly back. I think I’ve slightly alarmed Dan, Isabel and Kay by inviting her to our little soirée but they understand that I wanted to do something nice for her, something to show that I’m truly grateful.
Kay sets to work trying to find my replacement. Luckily Amita has accepted another position, but Kay calls the two graduates, Nadeem and Carla, and asks them if they want to come and interview for a different but surprisingly similar job, which they both nearly bite her hand off to do.
On Thursday afternoon Kay pushes me out of the door at four thirty, telling me that no one wants to eat at half past nine because I wouldn’t leave work in time to cook. The kids have finished decorating the flat and are happily dressing the table, all attempts at being too cool for school forgotten in the pre-Christmas excitement.
‘Why is Lorna so horrible?’ William asks as he’s placing the traditional angels in front of all the place settings.
‘She’s not,’ I say, and hope that for once he’ll let it be.
‘But you’re always saying she is. You told Dad she was a complete and utter bitch.’
Zoe snorts.
‘You shouldn’t be listening in on our conversations,’ I say. ‘And that wasn’t her, that was another Lorna.’
I realize as soon as I’ve said this that it’s a mistake. William is just as likely to say to Lorna, ‘Mum knows another Lorna who she says is a complete and utter bitch,’ as anything else.
‘Actually I did use to think that, but I was wrong, OK? And she’d be very, very upset if she knew that I’d said it, so don’t mention it, will you?’ I’m so confused about Lorna that I’m not sure what I actually do think about her at the moment, but I don’t want to tell him that.
‘I’m not stupid,’ he says huffily, and Zoe says, ‘No, of course you’re not,’ in a way that means he clearly is.
‘Mum…’ he whines.
I leave them to it, knowing that there’s no way they’ll have a full-blown row this evening, Not since the year Dan threatened to make them spend the evening in their rooms after they’d committed some misdemeanor or other. He’d stuck to it too until after the starter, so they’d missed everyone else pulling their crackers and comparing little gifts.
By seven the food is under control and the place is looking – and smelling – amazing. It reminds me of a fair ground, all fairy lights and garish silver and red decorations. There are scented candles in all the rooms. The mulled wine is mulling or whatever it is that it does, the Camembert is ready to bake for the appetizer, the trifle is made and the yule log that William made in Food Technology is melting quietly in the heat of the kitchen. I rush around in the bedroom, getting changed in record time, while Dan opens the wine and pours us both a big glass. At twenty past seven Kay is the first to arrive.
‘Quick, carols,’ I say to Zoe before I answer the door, and Zoe rushes over to the iPod dock. We always have carols playing when people arrive on the twenty-first.
‘Is Cruella here yet?’ Kay asks in a loud whisper as I take her through to the living room to introduce her to Dan and the kids.
‘Don’t.’
Somehow Kay – who, of course, has two sons, which might go some way to explaining it – turns out to be as much of a geek as William so they bond over talking about the discovery of some obscure star or other that has been on the news for reasons I can’t even be bothered to try to remember.
Isabel and the girls arrive next, turning up on the doorstep at the same time as Rose and Simon who have brought along their six-year-old daughter, Fabia. Their other two are both at a sleepover.
We adults drink pungent mulled wine and nibble on the little pre-dinner snacks I’ve put out, and chat about not much. Rose seems a little nervous of Isabel, given that she was the bearer of bad news about Luke, but luckily Isabel, who has good intuition, spots this and makes a big show of thanking her for saving her from making a complete fool of herself. It’s all very relaxed and friendly and Christmassy, and then the doorbell rings again and there’s Lorna clutching a bottle of wine. She hands it to me as I show her in.
‘Do come on in.’ I’m talking to her like an elderly aunt I’ve only met once before. The truth is I don’t really know how to be around her. Well, apart from defensive, hostile and suspicious that is.
‘Your flat’s looking lovely,’ she says, looking around at the decorations as I take her coat.
‘Thanks. Come through. Everybody, this is Lorna.’ You never saw a roomful of people so interested. Lorna the legend is in our home. Even Rose and Simon have been filled in on her exploits on the few occasions we’ve had dinner with them. I introduce her to everyone she doesn’t already know and she says yes to a glass of mulled wine so I leave them all to it while I go and fetch her one and check on the sausages. Isabel follows me out.
‘She’s even skinnier than the last time I saw her,’ she stage whispers.
‘I know. Oh God, was this a terrible idea, inviting her?’
‘No, of course not. It’s your good deed for the year. Only we’re not having beans with the sausages are we because I don’t think I could cope.’
‘Shh,’ I say, laughing. ‘We have to try to be nice.’
And, actually, the meal is fun. Everyone coos over their little cracker presents. I agonized over what to put in Lorna’s and, in the end, I plumped for a pink, glittery ballpoint pen because she always seems to be having to borrow biros off people’s desks at work.
‘I love it,’ she says, smiling. Yes, it’s definitely a smile. I’m getting more used to it by now; it doesn’t scare me quite so much as when it first appeared.
‘You can lend it to Heather Barclay for her to sign me an autograph,’ Zoe says. ‘Mum was too scared to ask her.’
‘Of course I will…’
‘And for me too,’ William says, and then Nicola and Natalie say they’d like one too and Fabia adds her name into the mix, even though she probably doesn’t even know who Heather Barclay is. Lorna actually seems not to mind the attention and the kids are being sweet and funny and, above all, polite, so it all helps to break the ice a bit.
It took me a long while to decide who to sit Lorna next to. God forbid I should have to spend the evening listening to her stories; I’ve had enough of that at work to last me a lifetime. As has Kay, even in the short time she’s been at Mortimer and Sheedy. Isabel is out because of the Alex connection. In the end I have sacrificed my lovely husband because I know he’ll be polite and try to engage her in conversation. On the other side I’ve put Rose because she’s sweet and friendly and she can talk to anyone. Still, it’s obvious that Lorna is feeling uncomfortable. She picks at her food, head down, speaking only when spoken to. It’s a bit like having a sulky teenager at the table although when I look at Zoe messing around with the other kids at the little table in the corner I feel that’s doing sulky teenagers a disservice. I decide to try to enjoy myself anyway. I’ve done my bit, I invited her, I can’t be responsible for making sure she has a good time too.
Once we’ve eaten, the kids all get dispatched off to
Zoe’s room while we adults linger over the wine. Usually the twins will fall asleep on the floor eventually and I’m assuming that this time Fabia will go the same way too. I’ve left a collection of sleeping bags and quilts in there for them to fight over. We always let them play until they flake out so long as they’re not too noisy. We’re having fun so why shouldn’t they? Dan fills all our glasses again and we’re all talking about I don’t remember what, something banal, when Lorna suddenly coughs loudly. It’s so loud it actually makes me jump and we all turn to look at her.
‘I’d like to say something,’ she says. I think about rugby tackling her to the ground. She must have had too much to drink and now the recriminations are going to start all over again. I look at Dan, but he’s looking as clueless as I feel. It was all going so well.
‘This won’t mean much to you, Rose and Simon, so I apologize in advance. You’ve probably heard about me, though. I’m sure Rebecca will have mentioned the way I’ve been behaving lately. Well, not just lately, but anyway…’
Thankfully Rose and Simon manage to arrange their faces into expressions that say, ‘No, never heard of you, what are you talking about?’
I have no idea where this is going and no idea how to stop it.
‘The thing is Rebecca and I have never got on. Have we?’
Lorna is a master of understatement. What am I supposed to say? ‘Um… no, I guess not.’
‘And I’ve realized lately that most of that was down to me.’ OK, I allow myself to breathe again, maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all.
‘I was difficult to work with, I know that. It was always important to me that I’d been there longer, how I was perceived, and you know, Rebecca, you were always right, I did use to avoid answering the phones in the hope that you’d get there first. I had a chip on my shoulder about wanting to be the senior assistant, the most important person. The fact is that I… I’ve always been jealous of you. There, I’ve said it…’
She looks at me for a reaction and I smile weakly. I don’t know what to say.
‘You have everything I’ve always wanted. A husband who loves you, children, you’re clever and funny and beautiful and confident and people like you. And because of that I felt threatened I suppose…’
This is making me feel really awkward. Part of me wants to ask her how in the world she ever got the idea that I was confident and the other half just wants to tell her to shut the hell up. This is meant to be a fun evening.
‘Lorna, you don’t have to do this…’
‘No, I do. I’m not going to be long. I don’t want to ruin your evening,’ she says as if she’s read my mind. ‘I just need to get this off my chest while I’m feeling brave enough otherwise I never will. What I’m trying to say is that I gave you every reason to hate me; I can see that now. And in return you bent over backwards to save my job and to cover up my mistakes and I can say – one hundred per cent – that I never would have done the same for you. And you even invited me here tonight. And that’s really made me think. What I’m trying to say, what I’m standing here making a prat of myself and ruining your dinner party to say, is that I’ve changed. Or, at least, I’m going to. And I’d really like you to believe me because I’d really like it if we could be friends. And I hope you’ll accept my apology for the way I’ve always treated you.’
She stops abruptly. There’s a stunned silence round the table. Rose and Simon are both finding something fascinating in their glasses; Kay is open-mouthed. I know I should say something, but I just don’t know what. It must have taken an enormous amount of courage for her to have said what she just has, but I really don’t know how to respond. Dan, thankfully, saves the day by raising his glass and saying, ‘Well, good on you, Lorna. I don’t see how anyone could argue with that.’
‘I agree,’ Isabel says. ‘Don’t you, Rebecca?’ She looks at me as if to say, ‘Say something,’ and I know I must.
‘Wow, Lorna, I don’t know what to say. Actually, yes I do. Of course I accept your apology, but you need to accept mine too. If you haven’t always been as nice as you should, then neither have I. You know, with the whole email thing and everything.’ I pause. Maybe I shouldn’t go there. ‘But, you know, I may have covered for you while you were away but you’ve already repaid me by helping me get my dream job. So, actually, I’d love it if we could just forget everything that’s gone before and start fresh. See how we get on. Deal?’
She smiles at me, a genuine smile if ever I saw one. ‘Deal.’
‘Thank God,’ I say. ‘Now can we just have another drink?’
She laughs along with the others. Dan pours yet more drinks and we all make a big effort to talk about something else. Lorna, I notice, suddenly seems much more animated, more relaxed. She obviously came here tonight with a mission and now she’s accomplished it. The permanent sneer has been replaced by something much more appealing. Well, good for her. I’m not sure I could have done the same. I have no idea what will happen from here on in, whether we really will manage to bury six years of animosity, but I’m certainly willing to give it a try.
The tension broken, we start to have a really fun time. Everyone gels; no one is left out. Lorna actually does have some funny stories – and not ones which revolve around how brilliant she is either. Simon proves to be a great mimic, not a talent he’s displayed before, and he does hilarious but affectionate impressions of all of us. (Me flustered – ‘Is this OK? Are you enjoying yourselves? Does anyone need anything? Oh God, it’s shit, isn’t it?’) Lorna asks me to show her my impersonation of her – the one I did for Niall Johnson – and I risk it all by agreeing. I throw myself into it, the big eyes , the breathless enthusiastic delivery, and she laughs so hard she’s wiping tears from her eyes.
At one point, I remember, I take a chance and say, ‘Lorna, when we shared an office did you used to eat noisy food just because you knew it annoyed me?’
‘No!’ she says, indignant. Then she laughs. ‘Well, not at first anyway.’
If I dare to say so myself, we’re all having a great night.
The doorbell rings.
Dan and I both look towards the clock on the wall. It’s gone ten, well past random cold-caller time.
‘Who’s that?’ I say, slightly pointlessly, because there’s no way he could know.
‘I’ll go,’ Dan says, and gets up.
‘It’s probably the woman from downstairs to tell us we’re being too noisy,’ I say to the others. ‘She has to get up early.’
Nevertheless we all strain to hear what she’s going to say. Even though the flat is quite small, it’s hard to make out what’s being said except for the fact that the person Dan is talking to clearly isn’t the woman from downstairs unless she’s had a sex change.
There’s a short exchange and then I hear footsteps coming along the corridor and the front door closing. Dan comes in first, looking apologetic.
‘Sorry,’ he starts to say, but someone else comes in behind him and cuts him off.
Alex.
He’s brandishing a bottle of champagne.
‘I couldn’t miss the traditional twenty-first of December Christmas celebration at the Morrisons,’ he says. He sounds drunk. He’s not slurring, but he’s got that brashness in his voice, the same as when he came to the office. ‘I knew you’d all be here.’
He looks around the table. Smiles at Isabel. ‘Ooh, the Rottweiler,’ he says when he sees Kay.
He introduces himself to Rose and Simon. ‘Alex…’ he says, holding out his hand as if they were all at the same business dinner.
They both shake warily. They’ve heard enough to know who Alex is, but, of course, not all the complications that go with him.
Then he spots Lorna sitting next to Rose. She’s gone white, her former relaxed mood shattered.
‘OK,’ he says, looking at me, ‘now I’m really confused. I know you needed to make some new friends, but this is ridiculous. You hate Lorna. You told me so yourself a hundred times.’
&n
bsp; Dan steps in. ‘Alex, that’s enough. You weren’t invited. You shouldn’t be here…’
‘Of course I was invited. This is what we do every twenty-first of December. Then on the twenty-fourth you come to us. New Year is in a restaurant early and then home to one of our places, alternate years, before midnight. We spend Thursday nights round here, Mondays at ours, on Friday we go to the pub and every other Saturday we go out for a meal. Once a year, in the autumn half term, we all go away together. No one else is ever invited to any of these rituals except tonight’s. Rebecca has our whole lives mapped out for us, the four of us and our four children. That’s how it works, isn’t it Rebecca?’
I hate him. ‘I think you should leave now.’
‘I’ve only just got here,’ he says, and he sits himself down in Dan’s chair, which just happens to be next to Lorna. She looks like she might be sick.
‘You will have eaten sausages and mash then trifle. There will have been carols playing when everyone arrived and a personalized cracker for everyone. Rebecca doesn’t like change.’
We all sit there paralysed by our middle-class reluctance to cause a scene. Finally I feel like I should say something. ‘Alex, I know you’re still pissed off with me…’
He laughs. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not here to see you. I’m here to see Isabel.’
All eyes turn to Izz; Rose and Simon wide-eyed and curious, Lorna pale and shaky, Dan furious but at a loss what to do. Isabel looks at Alex, waiting to hear what comes next. Personally I have no interest in anything Alex might have to say. I just want him to leave us all alone.
He leans forward towards her. ‘Isabel, I want to come back. I made a mistake. A stupid, terrible mistake and I regret it so much you wouldn’t believe. I know that I should never have left you and the girls. And I know that the way I’ve behaved since with Rebecca is probably unforgivable.’
I’m aware of Rose and Simon’s heads whipping round to look at me like they’re following a tennis match. I look at the table.
‘But I was wrong about Rebecca. God, was I wrong. And you know I never loved Lorna…’
