Journey to the Centre of Myself

by Andie M. Long

  ‘Mirelle didn’t know he’d be here. I didn’t tell her.’ I warn Shaun.

  ‘Message received and understood. Err, don’t take this the wrong way, but why did you want to come to this party? It doesn’t seem very… you?’

  I sigh. ‘We used to go around to Olly and Sam’s at Christmas, or they came to us. So I didn’t just lose my husband, I lost my social life too. That’s why I kind of jumped at the chance to do some celebrating, even if it was at a colleague’s house. I figured it couldn’t be as bad as spending the time alone at home.’

  ‘Come on, friend,’ he escorts me to the table and to the seat next to Mirelle. ‘I’ll get us some more drinks.’

  Jo comes over to say hello. She’s in full on hostess mode, being stopped by people every few minutes and asked where loos are, or seeing if people need another drink.

  ‘So is she okay then with him being here?’ she asks me.

  ‘I think so. She was a little shocked but seems to be over it now. She’s decided tormenting Shaun is her new favourite sport.’

  ‘Poor guy.’

  ‘I think he’s secretly enjoying it. He’s winding her up all the more, singing Uptown Girl at her, though she only knows the Children in Need version and I had to explain to her that he was making out he was Billy Joel to her Christie Brinkley.’

  ‘Well, it was nice knowing you, Amber, I’m not sure you’ll live to see Christmas by the glare she just shot you.’

  I laugh.

  ‘Anyway, I’d better go. Oh,’ she sees a woman walking toward her with a coat in her hand. ‘I’ll catch up with you in a minute. Amber, would you mind showing Karen where she can put her coat?’

  I smile at a lady I recognise from work. The one whose job I ended up with. Floor, swallow me up now.

  I get up and walk over to her. ‘Hello,’ I say, ‘Well, Jo’s husband took my friend’s coat upstairs somewhere.’ I crane my head. ‘Let me see if I can find him.’

  ‘Amber, isn’t it?’ she says to me. She looks different from when she was at work. Less hassled and her hair is cut in a modern style with a lovely gloss to it. She looks five years younger than when I last saw her.

  ‘Yes. You look well,’ I say. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, you just lost your job, and I put my foot in my mouth saying you look well, because you do, but, well, I feel responsible that you don’t have your job and… do you want me to leave? Not the party, though I think I will leave now cos I’m making an idiot of myself, but my job, do you want me to get your job back for you?’

  ‘Amber. Goodness. Draw a breath.’ She laughs. ‘No, I don’t want my job back. I think losing it was one of the best things to happen to me. It’s made me realise I need to live again.’

  Jo’s husband passes and takes Karen’s coat, leaving her hands free. ‘Let me get you a drink,’ I say. ‘Champagne or Mulled Wine?’

  ‘Oh, champagne please,’ she says. ‘I just came back from Berlin where they were serving it for breakfast, and then from Paris where I had some with snails.’

  ‘Gosh, you’re not kidding. No wonder you don’t want your job back. Okay, I’ll be right back.’

  I get her a drink.

  ‘So is work as exciting as usual?’

  ‘It’s okay. Nice to have a few days off for the holidays.’

  ‘Is Mirelle still sleeping with Smithy?’

  I gasp. ‘You knew?’

  ‘I was his secretary, it was obvious. He was always phoning his wife saying he’d be late home when I knew there weren’t any meetings, and they’d accidentally bump into each other on the way out.’

  ‘No, it’s over,’ I say, and glance over to where Mirelle is sitting with Shaun. ‘I just need to keep them separate. So, do you have any more plans for travelling?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what I will be doing this next year to be honest.’ She looks sad, and it contrasts with the happiness her face showed when she talked about travelling.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not your fault. Are you always apologising for everything?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but that’s because I’ve usually done something ridiculous beforehand.’

  ‘Is that your husband?’ She nods towards Shaun.

  ‘No. He’s probably at home, with his pregnant mistress.’

  Karen almost drops her glass.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ I say. ‘See, that’s why I’m always apologising.’ I point to my mouth. ‘Mouth opens before brain engages.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry for mentioning it. That must be difficult, especially at this time of year.’

  I shrug. ‘Well, I’m trying not to think about it too much. I’m not sure we would have lasted anyway.’

  ‘Well I’m not sure I’ll be married this time next year either,’ she says quietly. I only just catch her words with the party songs blaring around us. I don’t think she wants a response and I don’t know what to say to her anyway.

  ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me, I want to say hello to Jo, who looks like she might finally have a minute. Thanks for getting me the drink.’

  ‘Oh, no worries, it was nice talking to you. Have a nice Christmas.’

  ‘Thanks. You too.’

  Then we regard each other; the separated woman, and the woman who might be at the end of her marriage. I wonder if she’s thinking what I’m thinking and wondering what there is to celebrate this Christmas.

  The food has been served. Jo has prepared a huge buffet. She has several family members helping and I wonder if they’ve been around all day. I fail to see how she could have prepared all this herself unless she’s had it catered. About twenty of us take seats around the huge table. Others sit in chairs or on the sofa with little tables on their laps. I can tell she’s done this before, it’s very well organised.

  I’m so ready for food. There were a few tiny canapes earlier, but they didn’t really count towards levelling out the alcohol. I’m feeling a bit woozy headed and can’t wait to tuck into some nice food. There’s sliced Turkey, some marinated Salmon, and a Goats cheese and onion tart, alongside a mass of seasonal vegetables and several versions of cooked potatoes. I didn’t realise we were having the full on Christmas experience, but then I should have known with Jo that it would never be a vol-au-vent and cocktail sausage event.

  I notice that Jo has put herself next to Smithy, while myself, Mirelle and Shaun are right on the other side. Karen is on the other side of Smithy’s wife. They must have come across each other while she worked for him. Their conversation seems polite but distant.

  ‘Well this blows,’ says Mirelle, ‘though the food’s really nice. What time can we leave?’

  ‘We’re staying til the end,’ I say.

  ‘We could go to a club.’

  ‘I’m skint. Here we get free food and free booze.’

  ‘Cheers,’ Shaun holds up his glass.

  Mirelle glares at him. ‘Who asked you?’

  ‘Did you see that?’ Shaun turns to me and points at Mirelle, ‘that scowl is reserved just for me. Nearly melts my clothes off my body.’

  I snigger loudly. A few people at the table, including Jo, turn towards us.

  Mirelle gets up. ‘I’m going to the loo. I need a break from the two of you.’

  ‘Oops, you’ve really offended her now.’

  ‘She’ll get over it.’

  ‘It’s all bluff with her you know. She comes across as snobby, but it’s a defence mechanism.’

  We’re chatting with people around the table. The plates are cleared and desserts are brought out. It’s then I realise Mirelle hasn’t come back. Then I glance across the table and realise Smithy isn’t there either. Shaun follows my gaze.

  ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  We get up and head to the toilets where we find a crying Mirelle being cornered by Smithy. All I hear is him saying, ‘God you were just a shag, don’t you get that?’

  I storm up but Shaun holds me back. ‘Let me,’ he says.

&nbs
p; He puts his arm around Mirelle’s shoulder. She’s so slumped he can manage it, whereas before they looked like Sophie and Jamie Cullum standing together.

  ‘Is there a problem here?’ he asks her.

  ‘This has got nothing to do with you,’ says Smithy, adjusting his tie. ‘I’ve been getting a bit of unasked for attention from this woman and I need to get back to my wife.’

  ‘Mirelle’s eyes widen. He hit on me outside the toilet,’ she says, voice rising.

  ‘Now who do you believe?’ adds Smithy, winking at Shaun. ‘A professional man like me or this tart? Have you seen that bloody dress for a start? Hardly covers her twat.’

  There’s a blur as Smithy jolts back, having been punched in the face by Shaun.

  ‘Don’t you ever speak about my girlfriend like that again,’ he says. ‘She’s a lady and need not be harassed by an oily dickhead like you.’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  Shaun turns to Smithy’s wife, who has now appeared. She stands looking from one to the other of us, eyes narrowed, her arms folded across her chest.

  ‘I’m sorry love, but I think you need to take your husband home. He’s just got fresh with my girlfriend.’

  She turns puce. ‘Oh, not again. I’m sorry. He can’t take his drink. Thinks young women fancy him. As if,’ she laughs. She turns to Shaun. ‘I’m sorry, is your hand all right?’

  Shaun looks gobsmacked. ‘Err, yes thanks.’

  ‘Right, well if it’s okay with you, I’ll just get him out of here.’

  ‘Yes, fine.’

  They leave and we all turn and look at each other. ‘Crikey, Shaun, where’d that come from?’

  ‘Just because I’m small, don’t think I’m weak.’

  ‘I won’t.’ I pretend to feel the muscles in his arm. ‘Thank you so much for doing that for my friend.’

  My friend is still at the side of the toilet, silent. She takes a deep, shaky breath. ‘Thank you, Shaun,’ she says.

  Shaun’s eyes are saying ‘bloody hell’, but he actually says ‘No problem. He was a dick.’

  ‘I wish I could have noticed that a long time ago,’ she says.

  ‘Shall we go home?’ I ask.

  Mirelle straightens herself up. ‘Not without dessert,’ she says. ‘I’ll just freshen up.’

  We wait for her and walk back to the table together. Jo comes over. ‘Why has my boss got a developing black eye and an angry wife?’

  I fill her in.

  ‘That’s me losing my job now,’ says Mirelle.

  ‘I’ll talk to him,’ says Jo. ‘He’s at fault here after all.’

  We eat profiteroles and drink more wine. Jo says after she’s cleared the food away, there’ll be dancing. I’m not sure I’m up for that, but I’ll see what the other two want to do.

  Karen looks over at me with a quizzical expression on her face and wanders across.

  ‘I feel I’ve missed something. What just happened?’ she asked.

  ‘Your ex-boss just got a punch in the face.’

  ‘And I missed it? Damn.’

  We both laugh.

  Then the door opens and in walks the man I did not expect to see here tonight.

  ‘Adrian.’ I exclaim.

  ‘Steve?’ says Karen.

  Chapter 23

  Karen

  I walk through the entrance of Jo’s house. Wow, what a home. Plush mahogany carpets and dark furniture make it appear stately somehow. I walk towards Jo, who looks hassled.

  ‘I’ll catch up with you in a minute. Amber, would you mind showing Karen where she can put her coat?’

  I smile at the temp I recognise from work. The one who ended up with my job.

  ‘Hello,’ she says. ‘Well, Jo’s husband took my friend’s coat upstairs somewhere. Let me see if I can find him.’

  ‘Amber, isn’t it?’ I ask her.

  She’s nervous and talks ten to the dozen about how sorry she is she has my job and do I want it back. I have to stop her, tell her that no, I don’t, and that I’ve enjoyed my travelling. Jo’s husband takes my coat and Amber goes to get me a drink, glad I think of the brief chance to escape me.

  She’s not what I thought at all. She seems really young in herself. There’s a naivety about her; a lack of confidence.

  Jo has seated me next to Smithy’s wife. I may not know heaps of people here but I think putting me next to the wife of my Judas boss was a bit insensitive. We make polite conversation as we eat, but I’m starting to wish I hadn’t come.

  As the main course plates are cleared away, I head into the kitchen to see if Jo needs a hand. I try to catch her ear as I’ve now tried and failed twice. She’s propped at the kitchen work-top necking a glass of wine.

  ‘Hey, you need any help?’

  ‘No, fine love. I’m having a quickie before we get the desserts out. Charlie’s family has been a big help tonight, so it’s all in order.’

  ‘Well, while you have a minute. I wanted to ask you something. Only me and Adrian are having a few problems and—’

  ‘Are you bloody kidding me?’

  I take a step backwards. ‘Oh gosh, sorry, yes, you’re really busy. Get your drink. I can catch you some other time.’

  ‘No. I mean… you’re asking me for marriage advice? We’re hardly friends, even if we have known each other a long while.’

  ‘I suppose not. Sorry. I didn’t know who to talk to.’

  ‘Well, I was like that when my first marriage was breaking up. You remember my first marriage—the one where you came on the hen night but prioritised your love life over my celebration.’

  ‘I-I never—’

  ‘Saw it like that? No, you never have Karen. But I never said anything because crikey… you’ve had your share of bad luck, but during our working lives together, I have always asked how you were. I constantly offered support, but you never reciprocated. I saw it as you being unable to take on anyone else’s problems. Then tonight, you’ve come to seek me out, in the middle of my Christmas dinner celebration, to ask my advice? I couldn’t give it to you if I were willing. I don’t know who you or Adrian are as people. We’re not friends.’

  ‘Again, I’m so sorry, Jo. I never realised.’

  ‘Please understand I don’t want to come across as an uncaring cow, but I’m not the confidante for you, Karen. I can’t tell you what to do with your marriage. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have desserts to serve.’

  ‘Yes, okay, once again I-I’m sorry.’

  But she doesn’t hear me. She’s already left the room.

  I consider leaving right then but I don’t want to make a scene. Instead, I decide I’ll slip out after dessert. I accept another glass of wine and go back to less than scintillating conversation with Mr Smith’s wife, Debbie.

  Our dessert finished, Debbie looks to her other side. Smithy has been missing from his seat for a good ten minutes if not longer. ‘Excuse me, Karen. I need to see where my husband’s gone. Hopefully he hasn’t fallen down the toilet or something.’

  ‘No problem,’ I scrape my chair back to let her out and notice that Mirelle, Amber and her friend are also missing from the table.

  I gather my things together and get up to leave. As I walk towards the door, I bump into Amber. She looks flushed and I touch her arm. ‘I fear I’ve missed something. What’s happened?’

  ‘Your ex-boss just received a punch in the face.’

  ‘And I missed it? Damn.’

  We both laugh.

  Then the door opens and in walks a man I did not expect to see here tonight.

  ‘Steve?’

  ‘Adrian?’ says Amber.

  Amber turns to me, her forehead furrowed. ‘This is my boyfriend, Adrian.’

  I stare at Steve, my eyes widening. ‘Erm, no. This is my brother. I should know. I’ve been related to him for forty-two years.’

  We stare at each other in what I can only describe as a stunned silence.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ says Amber. She takes a step away from S
teve. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Indeed. What is going on dear brother?’

  ‘I can explain.’

  ‘We’re waiting,’ I say as I tap my foot. ‘I’m especially interested in why you’ve adopted my husband’s name as your own.’

  Steve rubs his head.

  ‘Look, I was in the bar, the night of your leaving do. I told you I came to it, but you were gone by then. I met Amber, and she asked me my name. With me still being technically married, I didn’t want any strings, so I said the first name that came into my head.’

  ‘Are you even a builder?’ Amber asks him.

  ‘No, but everything else I said is true, and I really did fall for you. I didn’t want to. I’m in the middle of a non-amicable divorce and was just looking for some fun. But then, I found you.’

  Amber sighs. Her gaze flicks upward.

  He tells her he’s falling in love with her. I feel like I’m in the middle of a trick television show and any minute someone will burst out with a hidden camera and yell ‘fooled you.’

  Amber tells him to go to hell and storms off.

  He looks at me, face creased in concern. My brother’s eyes always look bluer when he’s sad.

  ‘Come on.’ I grab his arm. ‘Let’s get out of here and talk.’

  We’re sitting in my living room with hot drinks in front of us. This is an unusual scenario for us. He never wanted to discuss his failed marriage and although I don’t want him to be sad, I like being the supporter, instead of the supported.

  ‘Look, I’m aware you’re not given to big conversations about your private life, but let me in here, Steve. What’s going on with you?’

  He curls his feet up on my sofa, turning towards me as he does.

  ‘Claire had affairs. Numerous affairs. I forgave the first one. I couldn’t forgive the second and I have no doubt there were more that I didn’t find out about. She said I was never at home, with the job. Sure, some nights I had to be away, but it’s not an excuse is it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But she was right. I wasn’t there. We got married, had all the works, but I was never sure I loved her. Not really. I’d get home, and she just complained all the time. She wasn’t satisfied despite the fact I was bringing great money home, providing everything she needed. I didn’t understand what else she wanted. But I guess she went out and got whatever she was missing.’