by Shari Low
Roger Kemp knew his business inside out and personified his brand, right down to Felice, the French model he’d married in Paris on the same day she’d walked for Chanel. Zoe tried not to be jealous of her figure, her bank balance or her shoe collection, mainly because, despite an overflowing vat of blessings, Felice always looked bloody miserable.
Talking of which… The lift in front of them pinged open and Roger and Felice alighted, almost bumping in to Zoe and Ned.
Roger’s reaction was instant. ‘Ah, you’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he proclaimed, kissing her on each cheek, Felice standing behind him maintaining her customary expression of aloof disdain. Zoe had tried with her in the beginning but gave up after frosty response number 453. Roger, on the other hand, was on typically chipper form. ‘Good to see you’re frequenting my establishment. My marketing company charges a fortune, so I need the money,’ he teased, then switched his attention. ‘Good to see you too, Ned,’ he said, with a warm, friendly nod, given that Ned’s box of eggs prohibited a handshake. Zoe had learned that it was one of Roger’s tricks of the trade. He always remembered a name and greeted everyone as if he was delighted to see them, even if – as with Ned – he’d only met them once before, for five minutes.
‘I’d love to stay and chat, but my family are waiting and I’m not billing you for this meeting, so there’s no point dragging it out,’ Zoe said, with mock sincerity.
‘And that’s the kind of attitude that makes me glad you’re on my side,’ Roger bantered back, his amusement obvious. Felice, stunning in a white dress with a red and green belt that announced it was Gucci, stifled a yawn.
They bade their goodbyes, and Ned followed her into the open lift. ‘Lucky I’m a secure kinda guy or I’d get worried about how much he likes you.’
Zoe reached up and kissed him on the lips. ‘Much as I’m secretly touched by your jealousy, don’t be crazy. Have you seen his wife? It would be like trading in his Porsche for a… a…’
‘Ford Fiesta?’ he asked, citing his own car.
‘I was gonna say a bike,’ Zoe countered with a giggle as the lift doors opened on the fifteenth floor. The View restaurant did exactly what the title suggested – offered a 180 degree vista of Glasgow. The first thing that caught her eye were the dark skies, visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows directly in from of them. The second was her family, already seated at a table in the far corner of the restaurant. A roll call wasn’t necessary. Of course, Marina and her brood, Verity and their Mum and Derek would already be there. Punctuality was an obsession with that lot.
Ned said his hellos to everyone, even making the furrow between Marina’s brows ease off for a second. In the light, it was obvious that Marina had lost weight. A new diet? A step-up on the fitness regime? Or something else? Whatever it was, it wasn’t making her relax at all. Much as her tailored white jacket and shiny black bob gave the impression of someone who had it all under control, she still had a frown that had become an almost permanent fixture for about the last decade. Zoe genuinely worried that her sister needed either more fun in her life or more anti-furrow Botox.
Yvie wasn’t there yet, probably held up in the ward as usual.
But there was Verity. Wearing a cream polo-neck jumper, her red hair loose and hanging in waves around her shoulders, she was striking as always. Although, it didn’t escape Zoe’s notice that her sister had strategically placed herself between Marina and their mum, so that there was no risk of her being beside Zoe. Meaningless? Zoe’s gut told her it wasn’t. But then, that gut had also told her that she’d be with Tom until the end of time, so it wasn’t exactly reliable.
Her sister clearly had a problem with her and she wasn’t leaving here today until she found out what it was.
13
Verity – Easter Sunday. Three months after Zoe met Ned
Acting nonchalant around Zoe and Ned individually had become a practised art, but it was a sucker punch to the gut to see them walking into the restaurant all smiley bloody faces and swingy hands. How dare her sister swan around, flaunting her relationship to the whole family? She’d only met the guy in December and she was already acting like they were love’s young dream.
This was the first time Verity was going to be in their company for a full day and there had been a giant-sized knot in her stomach since she woke at 5 a.m. that morning. Even cleaning her flat, her car and going on a five mile run hadn’t eased it. Now that knot had worked its way up to a seething twist of disdain and loathing that was constricting her throat, making it difficult to even look at her sister.
The problem was that some messed-up part of the universe had taken over, and since Christmas, what had previously been a gargantuan crush on Ned Merton had turned into something much stronger. Despite the fact that he clearly wasn’t interested, she thought about him as soon as she woke up in the morning. Last thing at night. And pretty much all day too.
Still, could be worse. She could be stuck between Marina and her mother at a family lunch, one side of her oozing irritation, the other mistaking her for some kind of marriage counselling service. For the last ten minutes, she’d been getting a blow-by-blow account of the latest instalment in her mother’s never-ending relationship woes.
‘The thing is, darling,’ Marge wittered, her blue-mascaraed lashes trembling with emotion, ‘you only get one life. And as I said to my ashtanga instructor this morning – by the way, the pelvic strength that gives you would have you cracking walnuts with your thighs…’ She paused, thinking. ‘Where was I? Oh yes, that’s right. I was saying to my ashtanga instructor, Nigel, why should I stay when I’m not being valued for my true self? And Nigel told me I was quite right, too.’
Verity had an urge to bang her head repeatedly off the table until the blood in her ears drowned her mum out. More than that, a tiny seed of resentment began to swell, as it always did. This selfishness was what her dad had to deal with while they were married. This was the kind of thing that ground him down day after day. If only they’d had a happier marriage, maybe he’d have stayed, the divorce wouldn’t have happened and then everything that came afterwards could have been avoided.
Self-preservation immediately kicked in and forced her brain to shut down that whole train of thought. Her dad had left them and his memory lived in a place that Verity didn’t ever want to revisit.
Tuning back into the excruciating present moment and conversation with her mother was the only option.
‘Where is Derek today?’ she asked.
Marge flicked her hand dismissively, making the sleeve of her rainbow-hued kaftan droop dangerously close to the butter dish. ‘Hospital. Varicose veins. He went in on Friday and he’ll be there until Monday. I’ve told him I’ll bring him some profiteroles on my way home. Which reminds me, have you thought any more about getting your eggs frozen? You know, darling, the monthly count will be dropping like a stone at your age.’
On second thoughts, even sitting between Zoe and Ned, joined at the wrist by pink fluffy handcuffs would be less painful than this. There was a time when her mother’s wackiness had been more amusing than infuriating, but that moment was long gone. Marge had morphed from mildly neglectful hippie, to completely self-obsessed, to self-proclaimed feminist voice, to kaftan militant, and Verity had found every transition excruciating. What she’d give for a normal mum who baked cookies and didn’t discuss her recent vaginal tightening over lunch.
To the relief of her reproductive organs, Zoe and Ned’s arrival distracted Marge and she was no longer sitting waiting expectantly for an answer. A split second of relief was immediately countered by… Oh, no. Oh, dear God, no. Ned had pulled out the chair directly across from her and Zoe had plonked herself down next to him. If there was one thing worse than sitting next to Zoe, it was sitting facing her while she shot her megawatt smile at the boyfriend she’d stolen. This was hell. With butter knives that could be used as weapons. Verity surreptitiously slipped her hands under her legs in case she was tempted to take The View’s
loveliest silverware to Zoe’s new Mulberry Bayswater.
Thank God for Marina, who emitted an exasperated sigh, followed by, ‘Anyone heard from Yvie? I hope she’s not going to be late. We have to be home by four so that Oscar can practise his clarinet and Annabelle can work on her new routine. We haven’t got all day to hang around here.’
‘And happy Easter to you too, Marina,’ Zoe teased, making the rest of the family laugh. ‘Good to see you’re taking a relaxed approach to the weekend.’
Verity took a small sliver of satisfaction in the fact that Marina shot Zoe a dagger stare.
Verity was still grinning when she realised that Ned was speaking to her and her entire being went into her practised state of normality-when-dealing-with-sister-dating-traitorous-object-of-affection. Calm. Nonchalant. Act normal.
‘Hey, you look great! Glad to be away from the grind for a couple of weeks?’ he asked her, slipping straight into teacher talk.
Calm. Nonchalant. Act normal. ‘Absolutely. What about you? Any exciting plans?’
Like, say, finishing things with your girlfriend because she’s completely wrong for you?
‘Don’t think so. This one can’t get any time off work…’ he playfully nudged Zoe’s shoulder.
But I’m off. And that’s why we would be perfect together. We have the same job, the same holidays, the same schedule, so much in common.
‘So I guess I’ll just relax and catch up on some reading or do a bit of decorating in my flat.’
Did I mention I have great taste? My home is lovely. I’d be happy to help.
‘What about you?’ he asked.
Okay, truth or no truth.
The truth was that she had nothing planned other than a juice cleanse, a daily five mile run, a gym workout and a box set of Poldark. But that made her seem completely pathetic, so she went for… for… shit, what could she say? A flyer she’d spotted in the hotel reception came into her mind.
‘Erm yeah, I’ve actually signed up for a week’s rock climbing course.’
What? Seriously, what the hell was that? How STUPID could she be?
‘Really?’ Hang on, he seemed unduly enthused by this. ‘I’ve been wanting to do one of those for ages. Will you ping me the details? I might join you. I mean, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to cramp your style.’
Calm. Nonchalant. Act normal… even though your head is ABOUT TO EXPLODE.
‘Of course.’ There was suddenly nothing more important than getting to reception to retrieve a flyer with all the details of that course. And yes, for the purposes of this turn of events, she was going to ignore the slight issues that she was terrified of heights, didn’t even like climbing a ladder and had absolutely no desire to do anything that involved her feet leaving the ground.
Flustered, she started to rise from the table. Surely that flyer would still be there. She could just nip down, pick it up and quickly study all the details.
‘Excuse me, I’m just nipping to the ladies’.’
‘Oh, I’ll come with you.’
Verity paused, mid-rise. Dammit. If there was one thing she wanted less than to climb a bloody wall, it was to have the opportunity for a cosy chat with her sister, who would no doubt regale her with cute stories about Ned. Urgh. She’d rather dangle from a thirty foot wall for a week.
Powerless to escape, Verity headed to the toilets, the click of Zoe’s heels right behind her.
After lingering in a cubicle for an appropriate time, flushing the loo and heading to the basins to wash her hands, she began to relax. Almost free. Just a quick handwash and…
‘V, can I ask you something?’ Zoe said breezily.
At least a question was better than some cute little anecdote about Ned and something sweet he’d done for her.
‘Sure.’
‘Is there a reason that you told Ned that I only went for wealthy guys who could keep me in diamond knickers?’
Verity froze. Rabbit in headlights. Yes, she’d said that, but she hadn’t thought for a moment that it would ever get back to Zoe. She’d said it to put him off, to make him see that they were wrong for each other and give up the chase.
Now Zoe was looking at her with a questioning gaze that was somewhere between confusion and a challenge and she was going to have to come up with something really quickly here.
‘I did that to help you out.’
A pause, and she could see Zoe was attempting to digest this.
‘Help me out how?’
‘Look,’ Verity began, thinking fast on her stilettoes. ‘It was back in January and you were trying to brush him off. Remember? You didn’t want to see him. And he kept asking about you…’
‘Why didn’t you tell me that?’
Think, think, think…
‘Because you’d just broken up with Tom and you had enough on your plate! The last thing I wanted to do was give you another problem to solve. You said you weren’t ready to be with someone else, I thought you meant it…’
‘I did mean it.’
‘Exactly! That’s why I told Ned that to make him back off and give you space.’
Zoe’s expression was changing now, morphing into some kind of understanding and acceptance. Jackpot.
Verity began to gain confidence as she found her stride with the lie.
‘I thought I was doing you a favour, to be honest.’
‘By making me sound like a superficial cow?’ Zoe’s words were piercing but they were delivered with an overtone of amusement, so Verity knew she was pulling this off.
‘Have you seen how you react to a five star hotel and expensive handbags?’
Zoe feigned offence, then shrugged and laughed. ‘True. I may very well have an inner superficial cow, but that’s supposed to be between us.’
Back on solid ground, Verity switched on the gold tap to wash her hands in the marble basin and risked taking the joke to another level. ‘It was either that or I told him that you had a sexually transmitted disease. It was a close call.’
Zoe’s laughter exploded, almost making her drop the lipstick that she held poised and ready to apply. ‘In that case, let me thank you for just making me seem mildly despicable instead.’
Verity took a sheet of paper towel from the automatic dispenser. ‘You’re welcome. Call on me any time you require someone to talk crap about you.’
Zoe was still laughing as she spritzed some perfume on her wrists. Verity fixed her red waves over one shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief, until…
‘V, you are okay with me seeing Ned, aren’t you?’ The giggles were gone now, replaced with something that sounded more serious, a genuine concern.
‘Of course, why wouldn’t I be?’ she blustered.
Zoe was watching her reflection in the mirror carefully. ‘Just because, well, you work with him. I know he is a friend. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, or that I somehow hijacked one of your mates.’
Which was exactly what she had done.
‘Don’t be moronic. I think it’s… really lovely that you’re seeing each other. You make a great couple.’ Verity waited to see if the Gods of Utter Bollocks would send down a bolt of lightning to strike her down. Nope, nothing. She carried on, ‘I’m happy for you. It’s good that you’ve got someone after… you know… Tom.’
A flinch of satisfaction as a shadow of hurt crossed Zoe’s face, before she shrugged off the feeling. That was Zoe. Resilient as always. Knock her down and she bounced like a fricking rubber ball.
‘Yeah, that one stung for a while. Men, eh?’ Again Zoe shrugged off the dip in the mood. ‘Anyway, fuck it.’
‘Don’t swear,’ Verity chided.
Zoe paid her no attention, as she carried on, ‘We only live once, so there’s no point moping. I’m glad you’re okay with everything. I definitely got a sense that you were being a bit off with me and I was worried.’
‘Not at all! I’ve just been a bit tired, that’s all. We’re fine, I promise. I’m really happy for you.’ There was just a
tiny twinge of guilt when Zoe leaned in and squeezed her tight.
They picked up their bags and moved towards the door, Verity plotting a new excuse to go down for the flyer.
‘I’ll be two minutes,’ she told Zoe as they left the loos. ‘Some of the girls at work asked me to pick up a leaflet about the hotel’s spa days. I’m just going to nip down to reception and grab one while I remember.’
Zoe’s lack of reaction showed she’d bought the story.
‘Yeah, no worries. By the way, I heard you and Ned talking about that climbing course. Are you okay if he tags along with you? I’m worried he’ll be bored without me next week.’
Verity could feel the flames of fury rising up her neck. It was one thing Ned saying he wanted to come with her, but Zoe acting like she was some kind of consolation prize made her seethe yet again. What was she? Zoe’s stunt double? Someone to keep her boyfriend amused while he waited for the person he really cared about to come home from work every night? Damn, she had a bloody cheek!
But she said none of that. Instead, she smiled and took her sister’s hand as they walked towards the door. Sod it, she would pick up the leaflet on the way out.
‘Of course I’m fine with that. I’ll keep him busy, don’t worry.’
14
Yvie – Easter Sunday. Three months after Zoe met Ned
Yvie gently placed the package down on top of the nursing station like it was unstable plutonium and could explode at any moment. She stood back, took a bow, making the corners of Kay’s mouth twitch as she attempted to replicate the gravity of the situation.
