If We're Not Married by Thirty

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If We're Not Married by Thirty Page 27

by Anna Bell


  ‘I mean, she always used to work such long hours and she wasn’t contactable by phone.’

  ‘She’s a solicitor, though, so surely that’s part and parcel of the job,’ I say wondering why Danny’s not jumping in to save me here. He’s his best friend, not me. ‘And I thought she said she’d reduced her hours.’

  ‘She has now, but it’s more than that. She’s always on the phone and she hangs up when I get near.’

  I think back to what Danny was saying about Victoria and it being complicated and I wonder if he knows something. His silence is definitely speaking volumes.

  ‘Maybe she’s organising a surprise for you,’ I say, clutching at straws.

  ‘For almost a year?’ he sighs.

  ‘I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about, mate,’ says Danny eventually. ‘You’re probably just reading too much into it. Lydia’s right, it’s probably just pregnancy hormones.’

  Danny’s started to act jumpy and weird and I wonder what his excuse is. Definitely not pregnancy hormones.

  ‘But why would she be making all those secret phone calls?’ asks Gaz. ‘If she didn’t have anything to hide.’

  I think of all the times that Victoria rang the weekend before last when Danny was visiting me. I think of the fact that she has a key to his house. The fact that she hates me. That she texted him that message when I was in Spain with him. That they were alone in Spain together.

  My brain is working overtime. What if Danny’s the one having an affair with Victoria? But no, he wouldn’t do that to his best friend, would he? I watch him looking at Gaz and instantly I know I’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. I can see he really cares about Gaz.

  ‘Trust me,’ says Danny, slapping his arm around him. ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. Lydia’s right, there’s bound to be logical explanations for everything. He gets up and sits down next to me, taking my hand. Look at us being the couple who councils other couples. He strokes my hand and I know that my suspicions are ridiculous. It’s much more likely there’s some other explanation.

  ‘Dinner’s ready,’ says Victoria walking into the room with a big beef Wellington on a wooden board.

  ‘Oh my God, that smells amazing,’ I say jumping up to be the first at the table and away from the awkward conversation with Gaz.

  ‘You’ve excelled yourself as always, Victoria,’ Danny says as he walks over and sits down.

  ‘Gaz, come on,’ she commands as she passes.

  He looks at her as if he’s about to say something, but he bows his head and comes over to the table.

  ‘I’ll just get the veg,’ she says.

  ‘Do you need help?’

  ‘No,’ she calls. ‘Dan, you can carve up the Wellington, Gaz looks as if he’d carve up the table if he was left in charge.’

  ‘How big do I cut it?’ he asks, looking at me.

  I shrug my shoulders. It’s like the blind leading the blind.

  ‘I think it’s usually like this,’ I say, pinching my fingers together to show him and he gives it a go. It cuts beautifully, probably more to do with Victoria’s cooking than Danny’s carving skills, but he looks pleased none the less.

  Victoria arrives back and places the veg on the table.

  ‘Dig in, dig in,’ she says, ‘before it gets cold.’

  ‘I can’t believe you cooked this,’ I say as I bite into my slice of beef Wellington. It tastes so good and all the better after my and Danny’s abysmal attempt at cooking yesterday.

  ‘It’s nothing really. It’s just following a recipe. Anyone can do that.’ She shrugs.

  Danny gives me a small smile. Anyone except us.

  For a while we’re all quiet as we’re too busy eating but it soon turns into an awkward silence and all I can hear is people chewing and their cutlery as it scrapes along the plates.

  I look over at Gaz, who is slowly shovelling the food into his mouth. At least that should soak up some of the alcohol.

  ‘Your house is beautiful, did you do it yourselves?’ I say.

  ‘Um,’ says Victoria, ‘you mean decorate it? We had professional decorators in.’

  ‘Of course, I meant the interior design. Did you have someone in to do that too or . . .?’

  ‘No, I did that.’

  ‘Well, it’s lovely, you’ve obviously got good taste,’ I say, wondering how many more compliments I need to give her before she initiates a conversation.

  Gaz clatters his fork around the plate and I can see it grating on Victoria. I think he’s realised and is doing it on purpose. It was bad enough being amongst my family when Lucy and Ed were arguing last week; I don’t want to be ringside at another fight without any back-up.

  ‘So, how long have you got at work before you go off on maternity leave?’ I ask, instantly regretting the question when I see Gaz is looking at his wife’s bump.

  ‘About another six weeks.’

  ‘Wow, that’s soon. You must be excited.’

  ‘Oh, we are so excited. Aren’t we, Victoria? I can’t wait to meet my son or daughter,’ says Gaz.

  Victoria coughs as if some food’s gone down the wrong way and she picks up her drink to clear her throat. ‘Excuse me,’ she says.

  I can’t help noticing she looks a little sheepish.

  ‘Have I said that the food is excellent?’ I say again, feeling awkward. ‘Danny and I have been so spoilt with food lately. What with all those delicious meals we had in Spain. There’s the most marvellous tapas restaurant near Danny’s mum’s house.

  ‘Los Toros,’ says Victoria.

  ‘Oh, I forgot, you went there so you know.’

  ‘Yes, their food was out of this world. I seem to remember ordering most of their menu. And their wine, huh, Dan?’ she says with a small smile on her face.

  ‘The wine was pretty good too,’ I say, looking at Danny, only now it seems to be his turn to look sheepish and I’m beginning to get suspicious again.

  ‘So my mum’s been practising her ukulele solo for the wedding. Apparently she’s got her band to record a backing track and everything,’ says Danny, quickly changing the subject. ‘And Lydia’s mum wants to do some sort of a dance.’

  ‘Sounds lively,’ says Victoria, nodding.

  ‘Hmm, should be interesting,’ I say, nodding, but really wondering why Danny didn’t want to talk about his trip to Spain with Victoria.

  ‘So Lydia, tell me about your job. What was it you said you do, you’re an event manager?’

  ‘Event co-ordinator,’ says Danny, making me feel guilty that he’s correcting her with my old job title as I still haven’t told him about the promotion.

  ‘Oh, my mistake. Event co-ordinator,’ she says, narrowing her eyes at me and giving me a small smile. ‘And how long have you been in that role?’

  ‘I’ve been with the company for seven years,’ I say, which is at least true.

  ‘It must be a nice company to have worked there for so long.’

  ‘Yes, it’s pretty good. I had a stressful job in London before that and I’ve learnt that sometimes it’s more important to be happy in a job than constantly climbing up the career ladder.’

  ‘Well said, Lydia,’ says Gaz, nodding.

  ‘It seems such a shame for you to give it all up and move up here.’

  ‘Things we do for love, hey?’ says Danny, laughing.

  ‘Yes,’ says Victoria. ‘It is amazing. I know I’d do anything for love.’

  I notice the way that she’s looking at Danny and not Gaz and it makes me shudder.

  Gaz is oblivious and he starts to sing the classic Meatloaf song. Danny joins in and I start to giggle at the scene, trying to brush off the niggle that Victoria seemed to linger over my job title, as if she knew the truth.

  ‘Perhaps we should do a duet of this at the wedding,’ says Gaz hopefully.

  ‘Now you’re sounding like our mothers,’ I say groaning.

  ‘You’re missing out, but still, we’re really looking forwa
rd to the big day,’ says Gaz. ‘It’s so nice to think that Danny’s going to be as happily married as we are.’

  ‘Let’s propose a toast,’ I say, ignoring the sarcasm in his voice. ‘To the wedding.’

  ‘To the wedding,’ everyone chants and I don’t fail to see the daggers in Victoria’s eyes.

  *

  We climb into the car after what was one of the most delicious but equally one of the most excruciating lunches of my life.

  ‘Well,’ says Danny.

  ‘Well, indeed.’

  ‘Do you think we should just never go out to eat with other couples?’

  ‘I think that’s our only option,’ I say, laughing. ‘Seriously.’

  ‘But, having watched Victoria with you I’d say that she likes you.’

  ‘You got that from that lunch? I felt like I was in danger of being served up for dessert.’

  ‘Believe me, she liked you. If she hadn’t we wouldn’t have had the cheese course. And she asked you questions about your job, she was taking an interest.’

  ‘An interest? It was more like a cross-examination.’

  ‘Well, at least it took the heat off Gaz.’

  ‘Now that was weird. Do you think Victoria is having an affair?’

  He starts up the car.

  ‘You know, don’t you? That’s what you meant about it being complicated.’

  He stops reversing out of the drive and turns to me. ‘If I could tell you I would,’ he says.

  ‘I don’t think it’s me you’ve got to tell, I think it’s Gaz. He’s going to be crushed if he finds out that you knew before him.’

  Danny finishes reversing and drives down the road and lets out a deep breath.

  ‘Gaz can’t find out, it’d kill him.’

  I see the weight that Danny’s carrying on his shoulders and I rest my hand on his thigh to comfort him.

  I’m just hoping the reason Danny thinks it’s complicated is because he knows what’s going on, rather than that it’s complicated as it’s him she’s having an affair with. I hope that my overactive mind is just playing tricks on me again, but I saw the way Victoria was looking at us over lunch and I can’t help worrying that there’s more to it than my overactive imagination.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I seem to be getting wedding invitations every week at the moment; it seems like the whole world is getting engaged. Even Gaz, the eternal bachelor, is getting married to his far-too-good-for-him girlfriend Victoria. I guess it’s only a matter of time until I get an email from you telling me you and Ross are engaged, right? We’ve got to that age where everyone settles down, haven’t we – we’re officially old. I shouldn’t complain though, I’ve got to remember that where there’s a wedding there’s a stag do, and Gaz’s is going to be epic.

  Email; Danny to Lydia, January 2018

  ‘And then, I’m going to go like this,’ says Olivia as she does a high kick, nearly knocking a mannequin over.

  ‘OK, sweetie,’ says Kerry, steadying the child mannequin. ‘Perhaps you can practise that when we get home. Why don’t we concentrate on finding something sparkly to wear.’

  It seems that Olivia wasn’t listening when I said there’d be no dancing at the wedding as she seems to have put her heart and soul into choreographing something. She’s even been getting up twenty minutes early in the morning to stomp around the living room. Which, of course, means that I’ve been getting up then too, as no one could sleep through that noise coming through their bedroom ceiling.

  ‘Fine,’ she says stamping her foot and walking round to the other side of the gondola to look at dresses.

  ‘What was that?’ I ask.

  ‘A preview of her teenage years. You’re lucky you’re moving away before all that happens.’

  ‘I guess I am,’ I say, pulling a face. My little niece is growing up so quickly.

  ‘What about this one?’ I say, picking up a sequin number.

  ‘I think that would chafe under the arms,’ says Kerry rubbing it and wrinkling her nose. She puts it back.

  ‘Did I tell you that we’ve got our first Airbnb booking? It’s for a whole week at May half-term. Isn’t that great?’

  ‘Yes, great,’ I say with a bit of a gulp. I’d still planned to be living there then. ‘I thought that you were putting it on for summer.’

  ‘We were, but then we thought, what’s the point of having it empty, you’ll be gone in a few weeks and it won’t take that long to get it ready to rent out.’

  I nod, knowing that I can’t confide in her until I’ve told Danny. It makes me more determined to get it all out in the open. I’ll have to do it when I see him this weekend.

  ‘What about this one? Olivia?’

  My niece rolls her eyes at me.

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’ I say, thinking to myself that it’s really cute.

  ‘It’s too pink,’ says Kerry.

  ‘But she’s always wearing pink.’

  ‘It has to be hot pink.’

  ‘Right,’ I say. Seven-year-olds are so much more demanding than they were when I was little. I didn’t get any choice in what I wore. I mostly just had Kerry’s cast-offs and the only criterion was that there weren’t any holes.

  ‘How’s the wind down going at work?’ Kerry asks, as she rakes through more dresses.

  ‘Um, well, it’s busy. You know what handovers are like,’ I say. It’s not a total lie. This week I have been handing over to Jenny.

  ‘And how were the Lakes at the weekend?’

  ‘Really good. It’s so beautiful up there.’

  ‘I can imagine. You’re so lucky. I sometimes wonder if Jim and I should move out of the city. You know, so that Olivia grows up somewhere a bit greener.’

  ‘Really? I’ve always thought you loved living where you had everything on your doorstop and that you could walk Olivia to school and to the shops if you wanted.’

  ‘Yeah, I do love the convenience of it all, and I love living by the sea, but sometimes the city gets you down. I hate the fact that we don’t have a driveway and I sometimes have to walk miles with the shopping. And I hate that we have to walk half an hour to the common to reach some greenery to have a kick about with a ball or to fly a kite.’

  ‘But there are so many opportunities that she can have here that she wouldn’t get there. Look at all the after-school clubs she does and there’s always some event going on.’

  ‘I know, I know. I think I’m just a bit jealous that you’re having a big change, that’s all.’

  ‘Really? I’ve spent most of my adult life being jealous of you and Jim and your cosy life.’

  ‘What? You’ve wanted a husband who pees on rhubarb and then serves you up crumble from it?’

  I laugh. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I know and I know that I’m lucky that we’ve got such a lovely life here, it’s just sometimes I wonder if we wouldn’t be happier somewhere else, if we should take a risk and move somewhere new. I guess you’re lucky in a way that you’ve met Danny and it’s just happening for you.’

  I fold my arms defensively over my chest. ‘It’s still not an easy decision to make. I’ve got to give up my whole life.’

  ‘Of course,’ says Kerry pulling a face as she knows she’s put her foot in it. ‘Ooh look at this dress, it’s perfect. Olivia, what do you think?’ she says brandishing a hot-pink bridesmaid dress with a glittery band around the middle.

  Olivia gives it a look up and down. ‘Not bad. That’s almost my style.’

  ‘Almost,’ I say, raising an eyebrow and trying not to laugh.

  ‘How about we get you to try it on and perhaps we’ll buy it anyway just in case?’

  Olivia stares hard at it again.

  ‘OK. But I’ve found the shoes.’

  She shows us a pair of bright turquoise trainers with diamantes on them and Kerry and I look at each other and laugh.

  ‘Deal.’

  ‘Now all we need to find is the wand and a tiara.’


  ‘A tiara? I don’t remember that being part of the deal.’

  She shoots me a look.

  ‘Tiara, right, OK.’

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I see that it’s Lucy and answer it.

  ‘Hey, I’m here, finally, sorry. Where are you?’ she says, audibly flustered.

  ‘We’re in the kids department.’

  ‘Great, be there in a jiffy.’

  ‘See you soon,’ I say, hanging up.

  ‘Lucy on her way?’ asks Kerry, picking up tights to go with the dress.

  ‘Yes, so now we can go and look at our dresses.’

  ‘This is so exciting. I wonder if Mum’s found anything yet?’

  ‘I’ve found a wand,’ she says as she appears.

  ‘Wow,’ says Olivia. ‘That’s the best wand ever.’

  She starts flinging it round and we all get it jabbed into us in at least two places before Kerry takes it off her.

  ‘It’ll be all the more special if we just keep it for the day, sweetie.’

  She looks disappointed but nods.

  ‘Hey,’ says Lucy as she bounds up.

  ‘Look at my dress,’ says Olivia pulling it out of Kerry’s hands.

  ‘Wow, looks great,’ Lucy says, giving Olivia a big thumbs-up, which is met with smiles.

  ‘We’re just ready to go upstairs and try on some big girl dresses now,’ says Kerry with a grin.

  I clap my hands together. It’s a whole lot more exciting shopping with the girls than it was doing a supermarket sweep in Zara at Barcelona airport.

  We glide up the escalator into women’s wear and I can’t believe how empty it is. I’m used to doing battle at the weekend, but here we are at 5 p.m. on a Tuesday evening in January and there’s hardly anyone about. Tracey’s always banging on at us to use our time off in lieu and whilst I’ve been trying to work extra hard of late in my new role, I figured that leaving a bit earlier tonight wouldn’t hurt. Especially as it saves me having to do this at a weekend which means I can see Danny instead.

  Focused by the fact that we only have an hour before the store closes we spot the dresses and immediately split up. Mum and Olivia park themselves outside the changing room on the comfy chairs and they do some puzzle book that seems to be more puzzling to Mum than to Olivia.

  I pick up everything in my size that is remotely bridal. If I’ve learnt anything from Don’t Tell the Bride it’s that it’s often the plainest ones on the hangers that surprise the brides the most.

 

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