Playing for Keeps

by Rosa Temple

  He dropped a leg off the bed, ready to leave the room. ‘How can you still love Hugo?’ he said. ‘I don’t get it. It makes no sense to me at all.’

  I couldn’t understand how we’d gone from having a serious conversation about Hugo’s cancer to Anthony wanting to storm off.

  ‘Is that it?’ I spluttered. ‘Is that what happens when we try to have a serious conversation now?’

  He just shook his head and got to his feet.

  ‘Magenta, you should listen to yourself sometimes.’

  ‘And so should you. You don’t get me? I don’t get you. To this day I’m still not sure why you asked me to marry you when we don’t even know each other.’

  ‘You’re right. Look at how easy it was for you to fly off the handle and kick me out of my own house when you thought I was cheating on you. Remember that? We’re just not on the same page.’ He opened the bedroom door. ‘Maybe you just chose the wrong man.’

  He left the room and stormed down the stairs.

  ‘Oh, Anthony,’ I called but ever so weakly. The whole situation and the long evening had worn me out. I couldn’t get up and go after him. I had no idea what the hell just happened. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe we’d rushed things, moving in as soon as we’d had a first date. Ridiculous. We weren’t suited, not at all. Look at how easily and seamlessly Anthony could make a friendship and strike up a business relationship with Sophie. It was like watching old friends who’d known each other since childhood, the way they communicated. Jokes that made them roar with laughter left me cold. I guess you had to be there. Indeed. It looked like they’d certainly been there for each other.

  As for Anthony and me, we fell out so easily, broke up so easily, and we couldn’t have a well-meaning conversation without one of us storming off.

  Just the night before I’d spent a completely happy evening with Hugo, forgot the time and hadn’t stopped laughing. I’d shared many like those with him in the past. Had Anthony and I really just lost the plot or was this the twist he and I never saw coming?

  I bundled myself into bed, pulling the covers over my head. I begged for sleep to come and whisk me away from this awful night. I begged for the chance to travel back in time and really find out what it was Anthony and I had. Anya had done it with Henry even though it had taken a convoluted journey to get there. Riley had done it, quickly and seamlessly with Jimmy. Why not me?

  It was obvious in that moment, with me burrowing under the quilt and Anthony downstairs doing God knows what, that Anthony and I were not for keeps. Very soon we’d break up and that would be that.

  Chapter 26

  Because my workload at the office wasn’t terribly pressing, and because Riley was walking around swooning every few seconds and clutching her heart at the mention of Jimmy’s name (she was the one doing all the mentioning), I thought I’d spend some time at the shop. Of the one million and one occupations I’d had in my life, being a sales assistant hadn’t been one of them. I’d spent odd days at the Shearman Bright factory in the East End of London and become a designer of some of our handbag lines, so working at Portmanteau would complete my working knowledge of everything Shearman Bright.

  I did love being in the company of Jaime and Zac. Jaime because of her straight-faced, dry humour, and Zac’s very camp and gregarious outbursts had me in stitches. They played off each other like an accomplished comedy duo and, let’s face it, I needed a few laughs in my life.

  I was living with a man I loved and who loved me and yet we couldn’t make things work. With Anthony having his studio in Soho it meant I hardly saw anything of him. He left early and returned late and, in a rerun of the pattern we’d already carved for ourselves because of our equally active lives, we had gone back to not only having no love life but not facing up to our problems. At least we were on speaking terms though. Well, just. It wasn’t exactly champagne and roses; on most days it played out like a version of War of the Roses.

  I felt really bad about going to visit Hugo and hadn’t been around to see him since the night I fell asleep with him on his sofa. We sent each other texts. He would say he was doing really well, felt like he could climb Everest, and that it would be so good to see me. I said how happy I was for him and that things were really hectic and I’d pop over as soon as I could.

  It wasn’t that Anthony had said I should keep away from Hugo; in fact he’d asked after him one morning. But so that Anthony and I could get our groove back, or at least change the atmosphere at home, I thought I should stay away. Anthony and I were being tolerant and polite with each other and my head raced with the idea that this could be the beginning of the end for us, the calm before the storm, and I really didn’t want that to be the case. Trying to find balance in my personal life had always been one of my biggest struggles.

  ‘These mummy-changing bags are flying off the shelf, Madge.’

  Zac had taken to calling me by the pet name Anya had for me. Just as Riley spoke endlessly about Jimmy, Zac never stopped talking about Anya and quizzing me about our friendship and some of the things we’d got up to when we were younger. He swooned at the mention of La Stankovic and had taken a selfie with her which he used as his Facebook profile picture as well as his WhatsApp photo. Anya was okay with that and often asked after him.

  ‘It’s amazing how well they’ve taken off. They were a long shot,’ I said over my shoulder while dusting the shelves on the back wall which Jaime said needed doing. ‘I haven’t designed anything so quickly in my life.’

  ‘You’re mega talented,’ Zac crooned. ‘I hate you.’ He walked past me and playfully hit my shoulder. ‘Just kidding, darling. I love you and I love working here. Even with that dragon of a boss on my ass all day.’ He looked at Jaime and pulled a face. ‘Not kidding this time. Fire breathing and everything that one.’

  It was late, a Friday, and very quiet for the end of the week. Zac had reported to me that Becca Mirafiore had started a massive discount sale at her handbag shop down the road and I wondered if I should follow suit. But the initial sales figures showed that lots of stock, not only the Anya collection, was flying off the shelves. I’d let Becca start a sale if she wanted. It only went to show that she was panicking.

  ‘You really have nothing to worry about, Magenta,’ Jaime said. ‘She’ll put herself out of business if she carries on like that.’

  Jaime said the shop had been quite busy for most of the week. People shopping for Christmas presents had come into Portmanteau, noses red from the cold and laden with big carrier bags, packed with gifts. Across the road, Rhythm ‘N’ Brews was busy with coffee drinkers taking breaks from all the retail therapy. It reminded me I hadn’t even thought about buying Christmas presents. Anthony and I hadn’t talked about how we’d spend the Christmas holiday – well, no surprise there.

  I brought up the work Christmas party with Jaime and Zac. It was now a tradition. I’d started it back when I’d been Anthony’s PA and the company was called simply Shearman. The following year everyone had wanted a party and I loved to organise them so we kept it going. Same formula: food, booze and a live band.

  ‘I love a party,’ chirped Zac. ‘I’ll be there with bells on, I’m telling you.’

  ‘Great,’ I said, ‘It’ll be a Friday you won’t forget.’

  ‘Can’t wait,’ said Jaime. ‘Especially as it means I get out of Shabbat with the family. Honestly, every Friday Mum has a different man lined up for me to check out. She’s obsessed with finding me a husband before I’m thirty. "While you still have at least one fresh egg in the whole of your womb",’ she said, impersonating her mother, I presumed.

  ‘Mothers are just priceless like that,’ Zac put in, ‘but could we stop talking about women’s bits for a while and get back to the party? Will it be dress to impress?’

  ‘You wear whatever you like,’ I said but stopped short when I noticed someone I’d been trying to avoid seeing walking towards the shop. I ducked down behind the payment counter. ‘You haven’t seen me,’ I said in
a rushed stage whisper.

  I heard the door open. Zac let out a gasp, left the counter and minced over to the person at the door.

  ‘Please tell me I can be of service,’ said Zac in a vampish voice.

  ‘Hope so,’ said the familiar voice. ‘I was hoping to find Magenta here. I went over to the office to surprise her but her assistant told me she was doing on-the-job training at the shop?’

  ‘She was here.’ I heard Zac draw out the words as if he were looking towards the counter where I was so curled up in a ball I was cutting off my air supply. ‘But she had to go.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Jaime. ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘Could I tell her who popped in?’ said Zac.

  ‘No, that’s okay. Maybe I’ll try her next week at the office again. Or is she here next week?’

  ‘You never can tell with Magenta,’ Jaime said, moving behind the sales counter and just missing my hand with her heel by millimetres. ‘So busy, that one, you never know where she might end up.’

  ‘No worries. I’ll text next time, or call. Obviously this was a bad idea. Thanks anyway. Shop looks good.’ I heard the door open and close but stayed crouched behind the counter until one of them gave me the all clear.

  ‘Who was that hunk?’ Zac said, ‘and does Anthony know you’ve taken a lovah?’ He drew out the last syllable, making me feel guilty as charged. ‘You can come out now, he’s gone.’

  I’d got cramp in my leg. I eased up to peer over the sales desk, straining to make sure Hugo was out of sight.

  ‘He’s not my lover,’ I said, smoothing the creases in my dress as I stood up. ‘Well, he’s my ex-lover. Hugo. And he shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘I knew it!’ Zac gasped. ‘Anthony doesn’t know, does he? Don’t worry – your secret is safe with me.’ He mimed the locking of his lips with a key.

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ I said.

  ‘It never is,’ said Zac, flouncing over to the door to change the Open sign to Closed. He got on his tiptoes and bolted the door at the top. ‘That’ll keep the hordes out, now spill,’ he said, leaning crossed arms on the counter and blinking slowly. ‘I want to know all about this devilishly handsome man and I want to know your secret to keeping two of them.’

  ‘Ignore him,’ Jaime said, ushering him away. ‘You get your coat, Zac. I’ll finish up here and see you in the morning.’

  Zac tutted. ‘You’re no fun. And besides, you’re the one on the lookout for a new beau. Maybe you should be asking Madge for tips.’ He snapped a finger, looked Jaime up and down, then exited stage left.

  ‘You don’t have to explain anything,’ Jamie said, turning away from me and busily clearing up.

  ‘No, you don’t get it,’ I pleaded. ‘He’s a friend.’

  ‘Gorgeous-looking friend,’ she said. ‘Is he single?’ Again she impersonated her mother.

  ‘Very, but I don’t think he’s looking for a woman.’

  ‘Damn, he’s gay? Discovered he liked men and dumped you?’

  ‘No.’ I laughed.

  Just then Zac reappeared in a long overcoat, a cossak-style hat and a shoulder bag. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, beyatch. And if Madge spills the beans on Mr Gorgypops, I’ll want all the gory details, ‘kay?’

  Jaime let Zac out and bolted the door behind him.

  ‘You going home?’ Jaime asked me.

  ‘I’m in no hurry. Anthony won’t be there. I might pop over to Anya’s but then again…’

  ‘Fancy a Shabbat supper?’ Jaime asked. ‘If nothing else it’ll be entertaining. You can see firsthand what Mum considers marriage material. You’ll die.’

  ‘I didn’t think you still lived at home?’

  ‘I don’t, but if I don’t have a good reason for excusing myself I’ll never hear the end of it. Coming?’

  ‘Why not? I mean, I’d love to. Thank you.’

  Yes, I’d done it to kill time, to spend less of a Friday night on my own than I could handle. I knew full well that instead of breaking bread with a bunch of strangers I should be building bridges, being a good girlfriend to Anthony and an equally good friend to Hugo, but the chance to escape all that, even for one evening meal, was very tempting.

  We locked up and left shortly afterwards, me looking over my shoulder to make sure neither Hugo nor Anthony was anywhere around. The street was still busy with shoppers running out of energy, cold and tightening scarves against the dark, chilly evening. The earlier grey, cloudy sky had threatened rain that didn’t seem to want to fall.

  There were Christmas lights adorning the King’s Road following the official switching on of lights back in November. In Dukes Square there had been Christmas festivities, a tall tree with golden lights and Santa’s grotto. The restaurants opened up onto the terraces for some bracing, al fresco dining and the whole area had been buzzing with high fashion, gourmet dining and festive fun. Jaime and Zac had convinced me to decorate the shop at the time, even though I was all bah humbug about the whole sorry business of Christmas. I just wasn’t in the celebrating mood.

  Maybe Hugo had been feeling like some company for the season. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be celebrating but I should have had the decency to go and see him to see how he was doing.

  But there I was, on my way to dinner with a family I didn’t know, a fake smile on my face as I marched to the tube station with Jaime. We chatted as we sat on the tube, Jaime becoming increasingly quiet and panicked-looking as we neared her parents’ house. I wondered if she was suddenly feeling daunted about her boss coming to Shabbat dinner with her family because she began making excuses about how her mother might come across and continued to do so for the rest of the journey.

  ‘Jaime, please, you have no idea what supper with my family can be like,’ I tried to reassure her as we walked along the street. ‘I mean, I’m talking anything from bread rolls used as missiles to humiliating proposals of marriage.’

  ‘Proposal of marriage?’ said Jaime. ‘That’s all Mum wants for me. She’s driving herself crazy with all these set ups and blind dates she keeps arranging for me. I dread to think what depths she’s sunk to tonight.’

  I laughed. I was glad of the distraction, whatever happened.

  ‘But,’ she said, ‘what can be humiliating about a proposal? Who proposed to whom?’

  I put my head down as we turned into a street of semi-detached houses with huge front gardens and equally huge windows, some of which had Christmas lights sparkling in them.

  ‘Oh, Anthony proposed to me,’ I said casually.

  ‘Wait, what?’ she exclaimed ‘What’s so humiliating about that?’

  ‘I sort of turned him down.’

  ‘Sort of?’

  ‘Well, I was drunk. I wasn’t expecting it. I suppose it caught me off-guard.’

  ‘Isn’t that how proposals are supposed to catch you? I mean, the real romantic ones. Or so I’ve heard.’ Jaime stopped outside a house with a shiny, black front door, a hanging basket over the porch and an outdoor mat on which a fat cat slept. Before I could answer her, and I was struggling to come up with a good answer, the door was flung open and a woman as tall as Jaime beamed at us from the doorway. The cat woke and scooted indoors as soon as the light from the hallway touched his fur.

  ‘My love, you’re late and you’ve brought company without calling ahead. No matter, not to worry. Come in, lovely. What magnificent hair.’ Jaime’s mother kissed me on the cheek. She had greying brown hair, held her back as straight as Jamie and wore a tan skirt with a white silky top tucked in at the waist. She had fluffy slippers on her feet that contradicted the set of pearl-bauble earrings and matching necklace she wore and long fingernails painted in aubergine.

  ‘We’re all in the living room. Jaime, your brother is here with his wife, Tracey, and the baby, Lucas.’

  ‘Yes. I do remember their names, Mum.’

  ‘And your father was having one of his turns but I told him to sleep it off. But that was lunchtime. He’s all better now but I don’t wa
nt you mentioning the allotment in Charlotte Grove.’

  Jaime’s mum peeled off my coat, hung it and my bag up on a hook by the door and took my hand. Walking me along the long corridor she continued talking over my shoulder to Jaime who was hanging up her coat. She pushed open the living-room door and a toddler came crashing towards us with a Star Wars Rogue One Rebel U-wing Fighter in one hand and a sippy cup in the other.

  ‘Lucas, go sit down. This is my nephew. That’s my son, Ben Junior. This is his wife, Tracey, and sitting there, thinking he’s God’s gift to women, with so many buttons undone on his shirt, is my husband, Ben Senior. Ben, do up that top button before you shock this young lady back onto the street.’

  ‘Mum,’ Jaime said from behind me. Her mother turned to face her. ‘Do you mind if I introduce my guest?’

  ‘Mind, why should I mind? Are you telling me I don’t know how to make formal introductions now? Wasn’t I just in the process of getting everyone acquainted?’ She rolled her eyes. Her manner was just as brusque as Jaime’s.

  ‘Of course you were, but you didn’t give me a chance to introduce Magenta to you. This is my boss, Magenta.’ Her mother looked further pleased to see me. ‘And Magenta, this is Rosamund, my smother, I mean my mother. Mum? You mind if I offer Magenta a drink?’

  ‘Mind, why should I mind? I was just about to do the same. Yossi is running a little late but he is coming, Jaime. Should be here in five minutes. I’m going to ask him to lead ‘Shalom Aleichem’. His mother tells me he has a beautiful voice.’

  ‘Here we go,’ Jaime said under her breath. She untangled her mother’s vine-like fingers from mine and led me to a side cabinet on top of which was a tray of glasses, alongside which were at least three bottles of spirits I didn’t recognise.

  ‘What do you mean "here we go"?’ her mother called over while Jaime poured two glasses of a dark brown liquid without asking me what I’d like.