The Story of Our Life

by Shari Low

  ‘Not literally,’ he quipped, ‘unless I decide to switch specialties from pink sparkly cupcakes to gynaecology.’

  I lowered my voice so the two nosy young ladies in the corner couldn’t hear.

  ‘Don’t. If you made a mistake and confused the two you might have to explain to a patient why she woke up vajazzled.’

  He struggled to keep a serious face. ‘Stop deflecting.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You are, Shauna. You’re a nightmare. Are you like this with Colm?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘All closed off so that he never knows what’s going on with you? Bet he spends his whole life trying to guess how you’re feeling.’ He was teasing but it stung a little. A cynical voice inside me doubted that the amount of time Colm spent caring or guessing about how I was feeling stretched to much more often than when he was horny, bored or he noticed there was no food in the fridge. I told the cynical voice to hush up.

  ‘Okay!’ I exclaimed in muted tones, moving along the buffet table and out of earshot of any of the guests. ‘Fine. If you insist. Are you ready?’

  He nodded solemnly. ‘Go for it. I can take it.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘We’ve stopped trying to have a baby. I’m trying to be okay with it, but I’m struggling to get there. I know this is completely the wrong time because the guys have just started up the business, but after almost eight years I was still hoping it would happen. Colm doesn’t have any kind of burning desire to have more kids anyway, but I do. I can’t believe my traitorous bloody lady bits won’t bloody work. How’re you doing so far?’

  ‘Hanging on by a thread,’ he replied. ‘The “lady bits” might have been a step too far.’

  ‘Okay then, to conclude, Colm and I agreed to take some time off the pursuit of pregnancy and just focus on being a couple again. Colm is relieved and just wants to get on with having a great life, however I’m in a different place. One that requires a lot of questions from interfering people that you work with.’

  I was about to say more when my mobile phone, vibrated in my back pocket. I slipped out of the door to answer it.

  ‘It’s me, m’darlin.’ I immediately felt bad for talking about him to Vincent. Not that I’d said anything terrible, but it was private, between Colm and I. And Lulu. And Dan. And Rosie. And the nice doctor at the fertility clinic.

  ‘Hey, love, how’s things?’

  I could be so pissed off with him, or devastated over something that had gone wrong and I’d hear his voice and all at once things didn’t seem so bad. Most of the time. Giving up on having children for now was going to take a bit of time to get over, but what were my choices? After a few weeks of hidden sadness, I’d realized I could either continue to be miserable, or pull myself together and get back to enjoying life without ovulation charts and monthly devastation. I was trying to go for the latter. Really trying. And a big part of that was trying to reconnect with Colm, go back to being that upbeat, positive person that had made our relationship so great at the start. The simple truth was that I still loved him. Sure, we’d been dented by the strain of the last few years, but not enough to walk away from him.

  What was that saying? Fake it until you make it? Right now Fun Shauna was faking her way back to happiness.

  ‘Good. The party went great, I’m jealous of the wealth of a sixteen-year-old and I seriously need to have a word with myself about my attitude, but other than that I’m smashing.’

  He roared with laughter. ‘I like your attitude.’

  ‘You hang on to that thought when I’m arrested for stealing a limo and a pair of Louboutins from a birthday party. Anyway, where are you? Are you on your way to meet us?’

  ‘Darlin’, we’re not going to make it. The meeting ran late and we’re just leaving Birmingham now.’

  I felt a crushing weight of disappointment. I’d been looking forward to tonight. Rosie was now seeing a bearded, Metallica T-shirt- wearing roadie called Zak and his band were playing in a club in Soho. I bit back the urge to moan. No point in falling out about it – wouldn’t change a thing. And besides, since the fertility deal, I was getting highly adept at supressing my true feelings to Colm.

  ‘Poor thing, you must be knackered. Don’t worry about it. I was just looking forward to seeing you. Feels like it’s been so long since we were out.’

  ‘Way too long. I’ll make it up to you. How about tomorrow night?’

  ‘Sorry, hon, got a wedding job on. And a christening on Sunday. We’ll talk about it later. I’ll go to the club for a while and then head home early.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan. Love ya.’

  And he was away. I headed back in and got back to work, turning up the speed so we were cleared and in the van within half an hour. Vincent pointed us in the direction of Soho. ‘Is Carole meeting us there?’ I asked. Rosie had invited Vincent along too, so naturally his girlfriend was coming along. I’d only met her a few times and I could see why they were together. She was gorgeous, funny and incredibly direct, unafraid to say what she thought. I liked her style and I didn’t blame her from wanting more from Vince. He was a catch.

  ‘Yeah, she should be there shortly. I told her to go find Lulu and Rosie if we’re not there yet.’

  ‘Have you sorted it out with her yet?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s a work in progress. I just don’t get the rush, you know? Why can’t we just take it easy, see where it goes instead of forcing it?’

  ‘You’re right. Just don’t wait too long in case she gets a better offer. She’s pretty hot,’ I laughed. ‘And you’re not too shabby, but I’ve seen better.’

  ‘You haven’t though,’ he winked, feigning smarm and making me laugh. ‘Come on, admit it. You must have fancied me once.’

  ‘Never!’ I screeched.

  ‘Never? Great, there’s my ego decimated. Can we go back to talking about your ovaries?’

  Still laughing, I turned the stereo on and the retro, dulcet tones of James Blunt singing ‘Beautiful’ filled the van. ‘I know it’s meant to be romantic,’ I said, sighing, ‘but this song makes me want to bang my head on something until I slip into unconsciousness.’

  I flicked the dial and got Bruno Mars with ‘Uptown Funk’. ‘Now you’re talking,’ I said, dancing in my seat. I knew every word. That’s what happened when you spent day after day, driving from job to job with the radio on as loud as possible to keep you awake because you’re living on a few hours’ sleep a night.

  Vincent joined in, doing a disgracefully bad duet until the song was over.

  By the end, my ears were straining to cope with just how atrocious we were. ‘I think it’s just as well we’re great cooks, because we’re never making it as singers.’

  ‘Speak for yourself. I think I have potential,’ he said, feigning indignation. The music started to fade and I realized he’d used the buttons on the steering wheel to turn it down.

  ‘I’m sorry about what happened,’ he said, flipping back to seriousness for a moment. ‘I know how much you wanted the treatment to work.’

  ‘Thanks. Just wasn’t meant to be. At least not yet. Probably for the best.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  I thought for a moment. In many ways it was true. Since Colm and Dan started their business I’d been working double shifts, seven days a week, to pay the mortgage. It would be impossible to sustain that workload with a baby, so then we wouldn’t be able to pay the bills and we’d be screwed. It made absolutely so sense to do it now. Yet… ‘No.’

  ‘Didn’t think so.’

  I’d have found a way to make it work. It was that simple. I felt my throat begin to tighten. I really didn’t want to do this right now. ‘Vincent, can we go back to bad dancing and worse singing?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, and I could see he understood that it was too sore on my heart to talk about it any more.

  He gave my hand a squeeze. ‘But I’m always here for you, you know that?’

  I did and I was gratef
ul that he cared. Grateful that he was there. And oh-so thankful that right now we were on our way to a bar, because all I wanted to do was drink a couple of beers, listen to loud music and be normal. No worrying about the bills. No stressing about work. No moping about negative pregnancy tests that had chipped a piece off my heart.

  The club was packed when we arrived, so we jostled our way inside. Luckily, the combination of Lulu’s flaming red hair and skyscraper heels meant she was always easy to spot in a crowd. Another couple of minutes of manoeuvring through bodies and we made it over to them.

  ‘Wayhey! The cavalry’s arrived,’ Lulu cheered, hugging us in turn. ‘Thought you were never going to get here.’

  ‘Sorry! It wrapped up a bit later than we expected.’

  I kissed her, before hugging Rosie and then Carole, who headed off to the bar with Vincent to get drinks. ‘So where’s your man then, Rosie?’ I yelled in her ear. Either this was really, really loud or I was getting old and out of practice. That said, it felt good to be out for the night, especially at an event where I wasn’t hovering in the background with a tray of coronation chicken vol-au-vents.

  Rosie was sporting a whole new look tonight – she had a leather jacket over a black ribbed stretchy dress that went down to her ankles. I’ve no idea how she could walk or breathe, but she looked great. Like a gothic goddess. I just hoped the change in her style was nothing to do with trying to please the new man. If she didn’t find a great guy soon, I was going to pick one for her. If Vincent wasn’t already going out with Carole, he’d be my top choice. Vincent and Rosie. Their names even sounded sweet together – like a flower shop. Or a cruise-ship duo.

  ‘There he is over there!’ Rosie shouted, pointing just to the left of the stage. Roadie? Tick. Beard? Tick. Metallica T-shirt? Tick. That would be Zak then. From the couple of times I’d met him, I thought there might be hope of this one lasting. Let’s hope that underneath that imposing exterior there was a sweet, lovely man dying to get out and make my pal happy.

  Vincent and Carole returned from the bar with the drinks. From the way she was gently swaying, in a black leather mini dress and black suede boots that put her well over six feet, she’d obviously had a couple of cocktails already. Hint of alcohol consumption aside, she looked like she’d just stepped off a Bond movie, and Bond, James Bond, would be putty in her hands. He wouldn’t give me a second look, especially now that I’d changed in the toilets, swapping my black trousers, charcoal shirt and smart shoes for jeans, biker boots and an old but beloved Guns N’ Roses T-shirt.

  ‘I see we’ve been ditched by our menfolk yet again,’ Lulu complained, making it clear she was seriously pissed off. I had a feeling of foreboding. Her and Dan had been doing great since the last blip. That seemed like such an innocuous way to describe their affairs. The IT guy. The tennis coach. The personal trainer. The barman. The interior designer. The… I stopped. The list was too long. And of course, for Dan there’d been the air hostess. Lu still refused to fly Virgin. For the moment, though, they seemed okay, although I was definitely worried. I could live with being in a relationship in which I saw my husband for five minutes every second full moon, but Lulu would never accept that. She needed regular contact, regular validation, and if she wasn’t getting that from Dan, there was always the risk that she would look elsewhere. I made a mental note to suggest to Dan that he limit time away as much as possible. Not even a new business was worth sacrificing his family life. Yes, I saw the irony in that thought.

  The song the band was playing ended and they left to a rapturous applause, crossing with the main act who were storming the stage. This was the band that Zak roadied for and it was an incongruous match. These were very definitely an indie, almost folky group, while Zak, with his extremely ripped physique and Metallica T-shirt was more on the heavy-metal side of the music divide. But he immediately proved me wrong, by starting to move his head in time to the music, clearly getting in to it.

  Book. Cover. Never judge.

  Rosie took advantage of the break to go search out Zak, while out of the corner of my right eye I saw that Vincent and Carole were now in deep discussion and it didn’t appear to be topping the romance scale. I zoned it out, deciding I’d had enough relationship trauma of my own this week. Even though Colm wasn’t here, tonight was going to be about music, drinks, laughs, dancing and fun with my friends. No drama. No hassle. No stress. Bring it on.

  ‘What’s up with those two?’ Lulu asked, spotting the heated debate.

  ‘No idea,’ I responded, deciding it wasn’t my place to discuss Vincent’s love life. I liberated another bottle of beer from the drinks shelf next to where we were standing. This wasn’t the type of place for fancy glasses and mirrored tables.

  ‘You know, I so would,’ she said, gesturing to Vincent.

  At that moment the song ended and the volume levels in the room crashed, making my yelp of ‘Lulu!’ much louder than I intended.

  She responded with a cheeky shrug. ‘What?’ she retorted, like I was the one who had just said something outrageous. ‘Don’t bloody give me that disapproving look. He is gorgeous. I could suck grapes off that torso until the end of time.’

  ‘Lulu!’ I repeated, not caring that heads were now swivelling in our direction. ‘That’s… that’s…’ Bugger, I couldn’t keep the disdain up any longer and succumbed to a helpless cackle of laughter. She was so wrong on every level, but I bloody loved her unashamed outrageousness. I just wished it wasn’t aimed at my business partner. ‘You keep your hands off, Lulu. I thought you were a happily married woman this month? Or was that last month? It’s hard to keep up,’ I teased.

  ‘I am a happily married woman,’ she pouted. ‘But I’d be so much happier if I was doing naked yoga with Vincent. Tell me you never considered it? Not even once?’

  ‘Nope,’ I answered truthfully.

  ‘You’re not human,’ Lulu sneered.

  She may have been right, but I preferred a more anthropological explanation. When Vincent and I met at college I’d assumed he was gay, because I felt no tingle of attraction there despite the fact that he was the Brad Pitt. The Ryan Gosling. The Johnny Depp. He was the bloke that was so devastatingly, exquisitely handsome that every girl flirted with him. Except me. I always preferred the cute and funny guy who made me laugh. In truth, I was glad there had never been an attraction between us because it meant that we could just go straight to being friends, with none of that tentative awkwardness on the way. He went through half a dozen relationships over the time we were in college and ultimately broke up with every one of them, while his break-up tally with his very best female pal remained at zero

  ‘Oh dear, she’s leaving. Check it out. Trouble ahead. Incoming. Incoming.’ Lulu gave a military-flavoured running commentary on the scene unfolding with Vincent and it was so irresistible I had to look. Yep, Carole had strutted away from him, leaving his brow furrowed and his arms wide with exasperation.

  Given that we were standing between them and the door, she was stomping towards us and would pass us in about two seconds. I braced myself for what to say, rearranging my face into an open, friendly smile. She mumbled something as she got within a few feet of us but I couldn’t hear what it was.

  ‘Sorry, Carole? What was that?’ I asked, guessing that it was something to do with her premature exit.

  ‘I’m done. I’m not competing any more.’

  Lulu and I were immediately engrossed. ‘Competing with who?’ Lulu asked, and if I wasn’t mistaken there was an underlying glimmer of hope in her expression.

  ‘You!’ Carole blurted, as if it wasn’t even in doubt. It took me a stunned moment to compute. That outburst could only be aimed at Lulu but for some strange reason Carole was looking at me.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Lulu got in there first.

  ‘Don’t bloody stand there acting all innocent,’ Carole ranted, eyes still on me, and I wasn’t entirely sure if it was her or the alcohol that was now trying to make a very heated, d
irect point.

  ‘Carole, I’ve no idea what’s upset you, but…’

  ‘What’s upset me?’ she raged. ‘How about the fact that my boyfriend, Mr… Mr…’

  Her brain obviously wasn’t passing the information on to her mouth.

  ‘Mr Bullshit over there…’ Ah, got it now. ‘Has been with me for the last year, A YEAR…’ she yelled that bit for emphasis, ‘… of wasted bloody time because he was just stringing me along, passing time, because Mr Bullshit…’ it was rolling off the tongue now, ‘is in love with YOU!’

  Oh crap. It was definitely the drink. I tried to appease her.

  ‘Carole, I promise you, he’s not. I’m really sorry I’ve been monopolizing him lately, but it’s just that, well to be honest, Colm and I are struggling financially so I’ve been taking on loads of extra work and obviously that encroaches on Vincent’s time too. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that one through. Look, I’ll bring in other help for some of the jobs and find a way to make sure Vincent cuts back and gets more time with you.’

  The top half of her body swayed backwards as her hands went on to her hips, her face an exquisitely beautiful picture of annoyance.

  ‘Are you lying or being incredibly thick?’

  Lulu’s gaze flipped quickly to me as she made an O-shape with her mouth and raised her eyebrows in expectation. Meanwhile I had a whole internal dialogue going. Okay, self, just take a moment to consider this situation. On the one hand you would normally never, ever, in a hell-will-freeze-over-first, million years let anyone get away with talking to you like that. On the other hand, she’s drunk, she’s your partner’s girlfriend, she’ll probably be mortified in the morning and you’ll have to see her again at other events, so it’s probably best for you to suck this one up and be the bigger person.