by Marian Keyes
Not like Daniel—he was big, but nice big. Idly, I wondered where he was that evening. I suddenly had a horrible thought—maybe he was at another party, doing a Tom, trying to persuade a girl to come home with him. My stomach clenched in fear and I had a panicky urge to call him in the hope that I might find him at home in bed—alone.
“Oh no,” I said to myself in horror, “I warned you this might happen.” After all I’d said, had I become too dependent on Daniel?
I forced myself to sit still—I couldn’t just call him and ask if he was in bed with someone. And, while I was on the subject, why did I want to?
That scared me into calming down. I had never been possessive about Daniel. I had never minded who he talked to, who he seduced, who he took home to his bed and whose clothes he took off and…
The panicky fear began to rise again. He had been without a girlfriend for a long time—and it couldn’t go on forever. He was bound to meet some nice woman at some stage. But if he started going out with someone, what would happen to me? Where would I fit into his life?
What was going on, I wondered in fear. I was acting as if I was jealous, as if…as if…as if I liked him. No, no, I wouldn’t think it! I WOULD NOT THINK IT. I nearly screamed it out loud.
My mind lurched back to the present. I tried to focus on poor Tom, because he had asked me a question and seemed to be eagerly waiting for an answer.
“What?” I asked. I felt slightly sick.
“Lucy, can I take you out some night?”
“But I don’t like you, Tom,” I blurted out. In fact, what I actually said was, “I don’t like you.”
He looked a little bit taken aback.
“Sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking…”
But I had been thinking. I had become too possessive of Daniel and Daniel obviously knew it. He probably thought I had a crush on him. The nerve of him.
“I only want to take you out for dinner, Lucy,” Tom said humbly. “Do you have to like me for that?”
“Sorry, Tom.”
I could barely speak to him. Daniel wanted to get rid of me, I realized. That was what all that about me having to start living again was about. Little mermaid, indeed! He was just trying to prize my clinging hands from him, finger by finger. I felt a fierce burst of humiliation, which quickly became anger. Fine then, I thought in fury, I’d have nothing further to do with Daniel. I’d get a new boyfriend and that’d show him. I’d go out with Tom and we’d fall in love and be really happy.
“Tom, I’d be delighted to go out with you,” I said. I wished that I was dead.
“That’s great.” Tom beamed. If I hadn’t felt so sorry for him, it would have been nice to hit him.
“When?” I tried to force some enthusiasm into my voice.
“Now?” he asked hopefully.
With a scathing raise of an eyebrow I managed to convey that Tom was in danger of dying shortly.
“Sorry,” he said in fear. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Tomorrow night?”
“Okay.”
It was a done deal. And just in time, for the party keeled over and died.
Chapter 82
I had every intention of never seeing Daniel again. The only problem was that the following day I was supposed to take him out for his birthday lunch. I felt that I couldn’t cancel it—not only had it been arranged for weeks, but it was his birthday.
Perhaps I felt relieved, but I tried not to think about it. That was easy because the atmosphere between Karen and me was terrible. She wouldn’t speak to me and she did regular tours of the apartment where she went to the time and trouble to open all the doors just so she could slam them shut again.
It was very unpleasant. And I bitterly regretted having said that I’d go out with Tom. I must have been out of my mind—he was awful and Karen was welcome to him. I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t fall in love with him and prove anything to Daniel.
The terrible fear that Daniel had met a new woman had come sneaking back while I slept. I was sure that the terror that I’d felt the previous night had been a premonition. It was no longer just a thought—it had mutated into a premonition.
I tried to talk sense into myself as I got ready to go out. I was fairly sure that I didn’t like Daniel, as such. It wasn’t a romantic or sexual thing that I felt for him. Immediately, memories of The Kiss flooded back uninvited but I blanked them out. (I was still so good at blanking things out—it really was a wonderful ability.) But perhaps I had come to depend on him too much as a friend? In the aftermath of the disintegration of my family had I become too fond of him?
Well, if I had, it must stop.
I was pleased with myself for being so sensible. Although it only lasted a moment. The panic started again immediately.
But what if he’s in bed with her right now? I thought.
In the end I called him. I simply couldn’t stop myself. I pretended that I had called to check where I was meeting him—even though I knew it was Green Park tube at two o’clock. And, to my relief, it didn’t sound as if there was a woman in bed beside him. Although it was hard to be certain—Daniel’s life wasn’t a porno film where women shriek and giggle while they’re in bed.
It was a godsend being in the doghouse with Karen, because I didn’t have to make up some elaborate excuse when I left to meet Daniel. If she had been speaking to me she would have definitely been suspicious because, in an attempt to show Daniel that I wasn’t a clingy loser, I was dressed to the nines. My very short dress and matching swingy coat were hardly appropriate protection from the bitterly cold March day, but I didn’t care. Pride would keep me warm.
He was waiting outside Green Park tube at the appointed time. As I wobbled, shivering, toward him on my high snakeskin sandals he gave me a smile of such dazzling intensity that it nearly knocked me over. I was annoyed—and very suspicious. What was he grinning about? Was it the delight of having a new girlfriend that made his smile so broad? Was it a post-coital glow that made him look so gorgeous?
“Lucy, you look beautiful,” he said. Then he kissed me on the cheek and my skin tightened and tingled. “But aren’t you cold?”
“Not at all,” I said vaguely, as I discreetly examined him for lovebites, chapped lips, scratches, etc.
“Where are we going, Lucy?” he asked.
I couldn’t see any obvious signs of recent sexual activity on him, but as most of him was bundled up in a winter coat, that was no reason for me to breathe a sigh of relief.
“It’s a surprise,” I said, as I wondered if he had his coat collar up to hide a neckful of hickeys. “Come on, let’s hurry, I’m freezing!”
Damn! Our eyes met and his mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh.
“Don’t even think about it,” I threatened.
“I wouldn’t,” he said humbly.
I led him to Arbroath Street and when we reached the glass front of Shore, I said “Dah, daah!”
He was impressed and I was happy. Shore was one of London’s newest, grooviest restaurants, frequented by models and actresses. Or so the magazines said—this would be my first and probably my last visit.
As soon as we walked in, I realized that I had gravely underestimated just how groovy and happening a place Shore was. The rudeness of the staff gave it away.
The host, a young saturnine man, stared at me as if I had just squatted down in the entrance and urinated.
“Yes?” he hissed.
“A table for two in the name of…”
“Do you have a reservation?” he snapped.
Immediately I wanted to say, “Look, you little asshole, you’re only a receptionist, you know. I’m sorry that I’m going to spend more on a meal than you get paid in a week, but ruining our lunch isn’t going to bring about a
redistribution of wealth. Have you thought about night classes? You could go back to school and try passing a couple of exams. Then you might get a real job.”
But because it was Daniel’s birthday and I wanted everything to go beauti
fully, I humbly said, “Yes, I made a reservation. The name is Sullivan.”
But I spoke to thin air. He had emerged from behind his little podium and was air-kissing a woman in Gucci flares who had come in after us.
“Kiki, darling,” he fawned. “How was Barbados?”
“You know—Barbados.” She pushed past me. “We’re just off the plane. David’s parking the Beemer.”
She surveyed the restaurant. Daniel and I obligingly pressed ourselves back against the wall.
“Just the two of us,” she said. “A window table would be nice.”
“Did you…er…make a reservation?” He discreetly coughed.
“Oh, naughty me.” She smiled icily. “I should have called you on the car phone. But I have every faith in you, Raymond.”
“Er, it’s Maurice,” said Raymond. He pronounced it “Mor-eece.”
“Whatever.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Just get us a table and fast. David’s starving.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll squeeze you in somewhere.” He giggled. “Leave it to Mor-eece.”
He consulted his book. Daniel and I merged with the wallpaper. Even though there wasn’t any.
“Let’s see,” muttered Maurice anxiously. “Table ten should be just about leaving…”
He continued to ignore Daniel and me.
I hate you, I thought.
If I had been alone I would have waited forever. But because we were there for Daniel’s birthday, and I wanted him to have a good time, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
“Excuse me, Maurice”—I pronounced it “Morris”—“Daniel’s starving, in fact he’s nearly as hungry as David. We’d like to go to our table, please. The one we reserved.”
Daniel burst out laughing. Maurice glared at me, snapped up two menus and gave Kiki a “Christ, can you believe it?” look. He set off across the restaurant at high speed. For some reason he seemed to have a penny between his tiny buttocks, and he took great pains not to drop it. Clenched. Very clenched.
He slung the menus on a little table and disappeared. He couldn’t get away from us quickly enough. Ordinary people, ugh!
Daniel and I sat down. Daniel laughed and laughed.
“That was great, Lucy,” he said.
“Sorry about that, Daniel.” I felt quite tearful. “I want you to really enjoy this because it’s your birthday and you’ve been very good to me and I’ve so much to thank you for and what did you do last night?”
“Sorry?” He looked confused. “What did I do last night?”
“Um, yes,” I said. I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that.
“I went for a couple of pints with Chris.”
“And who else?”
“No one else.”
Phew.
The relief was great for about thirty seconds. Until I realized that there were thousands more Saturday nights in the future, stretching out into infinity. And on every single one of them there was a chance that Daniel would meet a woman.
That subdued me so much that I could barely listen to him. He was saying something about us going to see some comedian that evening.
“No, Daniel, wait,” I said quickly. “I can’t go out with you tonight.”
“Can’t you?”
Was he disappointed? I wondered hopefully.
“I’ve got a hot date,” I said.
“Really? That’s great, Lucy.” Did he have to sound so bloody happy for me?”
“Yes, it is great.” I felt defensive and angry. “He’s not drunk and penniless. He has a job and a car and Karen even liked him.”
“Great,” he said—again!
I nodded curtly.
“Well done,” he said enthusiastically.
Well done? I thought angrily. Have I been that pathetic?
The day had suddenly clouded over. I sat in silence. Birthday or no birthday, I felt much too angry to be nice to him.
“So I won’t be seeing quite so much of you from now on,” I said.
“I understand, Lucy,” he said nicely.
I wanted to cry.
I sat and sullenly stared at the table. Daniel must have picked up on my mood because, unusually for him, he also became very subdued.
Despite the rudeness of the staff, the lunch was not a success. The food was nice, but I didn’t want to eat it. I was too pissed off with Daniel. How dare he be glad for me? As if I was handicapped or something.
Luckily, the horribleness of the staff gave Daniel and me something to talk about. Every single one of them was so patronizing, condescending and good, plain, old-fashioned rude that toward the end of the meal we began to tentatively communicate again.
“Asshole.” Daniel gave me a little smile as our waiter ignored us when we wanted to order coffee.
“Stupid bastard,” I smilingly agreed.
When the bill came we scuffled over it.
“No, Daniel,” I insisted. “This is on me, for your birthday.”
“If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” I smiled. But not for long when I saw how much I had to pay.
“Let me pay half,” suggested Daniel when he saw my appalled expression.
“No way.”
More scuffles. Daniel tried to grab the bill from my hand, I pulled it away from him,. etc., etc. In the end he graciously let me pay.
“Thanks for a lovely lunch, Lucy,” he said.
“It wasn’t lovely, though, was it?” I asked sadly.
“Yes, it was,” he said stoutly. “I wanted to come here and now I know what it’s like.”
“Promise me something, Daniel,” I asked fervently.
“Anything.”
“That you will never knowingly, willingly come here again.”
“I promise, Lucy.”
I walked him to the tube station, then I walked to the bus stop. I felt very depressed.
Tom was the perfect gentleman.
He rang my doorbell at seven exactly, as arranged. And, as arranged, he didn’t come up to the apartment. What he lacked in graceful, elegant, emaciated good looks he more than made up for in the instinct of self-preservation. He was no fool, and he suspected that Karen was a sore and vengeful loser.
I ran downstairs to where he waited in his car. I got a slight shock when I saw him sitting behind the wheel. There was nothing wrong—it was just that he looked as if he’d be more at home hanging from a butcher’s hook. He made it worse by wearing a red shirt. I hoped he would never get his nose pierced.
He took me to a restaurant—the same Emperor’s New Clothes restaurant that I’d taken Daniel to for lunch. Maurice was still on duty. He stared with loathing and disbelief when Tom stampeded through the door and pawed the ground with me at his side.
Tom wined and dined me, then tried to get me to go back to his apartment, with a view to sixty-nining me, I suppose.
He didn’t have a chance.
Nice guy, but I wouldn’t have bedded him if he was the last man on the planet. And he loved me for it. His eyes shone with admiration as I turned him down.
“Would you like to go out during the week?” he asked eagerly. “We could go to the theatre.”
“Maybe,” I agreed doubtfully.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be the theatre,” he said anxiously. “We could go bowling. Or go-karting. Whatever you like, really.”
“I’ll see,” I said. I felt bad. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s my number. And here’s my work number. And here’s my mobile. And here’s my fax number. And here’s my e-mail address. And here’s my real address.”
“Thank you.”
“Call anytime,” he said, fervently. “Anytime at all. Day or night.”
Chapter 83
Charlotte dropped the bombshell on Thursday evening. She rushed in from work, all agog.
“Guess who I met?” she screeched.
“Who?” Karen and I asked in unison.
“Daniel,” she beamed. “And he was with
his new girlfriend.”
I couldn’t see my face, but I felt myself go pale.
“His new what?” hissed Karen. She didn’t look too hot herself.
“Yes,” said Charlotte. “And he looked gorgeous. And he seemed really glad to see me…”
“What’s she like, the bitch?” hissed Karen.
Thank God for Karen. She asked all the awful questions that I couldn’t.
“Beautiful!” enthused Charlotte. “Really tiny and dainty, I felt like an elephant next to her. And she has lots of dark, curly hair. She’s like a little doll, a bit like Lucy. And Daniel is crazy about her, you should have seen his body language…”
“Lucy isn’t like a little doll,” Karen interrupted.
“Yes, she is.”
“No, she isn’t. There’s a difference between being short and being a little doll, you fool.”
“Well, her face looked like Lucy. And her hair,” shouted Charlotte.
“I thought you said she was beautiful,” sniffed Karen.
At first I thought she was sniffing dismissively. But when sniff followed sniff, followed by heaving shoulders, followed by outright sobbing, I realized that she was crying.
Lucky her. In her position of ex-girlfriend she was allowed. I had no rights.
“The rotten, stinking, lousy bastard,” she fumed. “How dare he be happy without me? He wasn’t supposed to meet someone else, he was supposed to find out that he couldn’t live without me. I hope he loses his job and that his house burns to the ground and that he gets syphilis, no wait…AIDS, no wait…acne, he’d hate that, and that he’s in a car crash and his fuck-truck is totalled and that he’s arrested for a crime he didn’t commit and…”
The usual kind of things you say when your ex-boyfriend has the audacity to meet someone new.
Charlotte patted and shushed her, but I just walked away. I felt nothing for her, I was too busy feeling for me.
I was in shock. I had just realized that I was in love with Daniel.
I could hardly believe my stupidity, not to mention my poor judgment. I had suspected for some time that I was actually attracted to him. That had been very careless of me. But to be in love with him, to love him—that was nothing short of criminal negligence.
