However, there’s something that’s been bugging me all day, and so if we’re going to have any conversation, it’ll be this one where he has to admit I’m pretty alone here in believing he can change.
“I saw Theo today. We had lunch.”
His hold on me doesn’t change. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he still hung up on Susan?”
“Didn’t even mention her, funnily enough,” I chuckle nervously.
“Oh.”
“He’s leaving in three days for a tour abroad. You two should catch up. I don’t think he knows when he’ll be back. He says these tours are always looking for people and if he gets the bug, well, who knows…”
“I might have to do that. I haven’t got anything on.”
I go quiet and I’m the one who tenses this time.
“What’s wrong, Lily?”
“I didn’t tell you about lunch because I knew he’d be sceptical about us and he was.”
He chuckles a little, burying his face in my neck. “I guess even in the best of circumstances our friends would be concerned, given we’ve all known one another so long and it might seem weird. But who cares?”
“I don’t care,” I blurt. “They can think what they want.”
“Then we’re all good. Let them think what they want. We know the truth.”
Paul leaves the bed and hurries to the bathroom to pee and start running the bath. It’s nice to have a man running a bath for me again; it wasn’t like that between me and Ian in the last year or so of our so-called relationship.
My body stings and I feel lethargic, dehydrated and exhilarated, all at once.
In this moment of euphoria, it doesn’t feel like I will ever love anyone more than I love Paul. I truly believe that. It’s not just that it’s hot between us, it’s that we’ve got so much history. I remember being in biology class, sitting next to him, happy just to have his sleeve brush against mine.
My crush came out in Year 10 after I’d confided in Chloe the blabbermouth. He and I snogged behind the proverbial bike sheds a couple of times but he decided we were better off as friends, seeing as though it’d be complicated if we ended up splitting, especially sharing all the same friends.
I never got over that, not the teenage me, nor the adult me, because in my eyes, he’s the one and there’s nothing that could ever change that.
Ever.
Chapter Nineteen
A week later, we’re walking into town to meet Susan and Adam at my favourite Indian restaurant. We’re celebrating his new job and life, basically.
Walking past people smoking outside pubs and bars, we huddle together against the cold weather, still pretty chilly for late March. There’s a lot of banter from the city’s revellers and plenty of idiots whistle as I walk past with Paul, who cringes beside me, trying to rein in his desire to lamp them one. I suppose, maybe, Paul might be a little insecure about how compared to me he isn’t what you would call the aesthetic. That’s not to say he doesn’t have bags of sex appeal because he does. Women notice him as much as men notice me. He’s a scruffy-faced geezer and women love that about him, me included.
We get to the restaurant which is quiet and peaceful, thank goodness. It’ll be later after everyone’s had a skin full that they pile in here, boozed up and hungry.
We’re led to our table and discover Susan and Adam aren’t here yet.
“Probably stuck in traffic,” I mumble to Paul.
The first thing the waiter asks us is if we want a drink.
“Can I have a gin and tonic, please?”
Paul looks awkward but asks, “Indian lager, whatever is the most popular.”
He smiles tightly and I make a mental note. Okay, so that’s his first beer. Let’s see how this goes.
“Hey, are we late? We’re late, sorry!” Susan is behind us suddenly, coming towards the table.
She looks absolutely gorgeous in a white cashmere jumper dress, her litheness accentuated, her dark hair piled on her head. She’s wearing simple jewellery and cuts a stylish, elegant figure. I decided seeing as though we were coming to an Indian, I’d wear a sparkly top and jeans, plus my favourite strappy ankle boots. I straightened my hair and went minimal on the make-up, meanwhile Susan looks like a fucking film star in a backstreet ghetto diner.
“You’re not late at all, we just got here.” I rise from my chair to hug her tight, enveloping her against my bosom, which cannot be helped seeing as though I’m quite tall and she’s average height.
She pulls back and smiles. “You look so happy.”
“Thanks. Where’s Adam, by the way?”
“Oh, he’s just parking up. He sent me inside because he hates being late.”
Paul’s next for a hug and she grins at me as he squeezes her, either because she’s happy for us or she likes his beard, too and wishes Adam could grow one this thick.
Adam arrives and then our table is complete. He leans down to kiss me and grabs Paul for a bear hug. The guys sit on one side of the table while we sit the other. More drinks are ordered and then they’re all brought out together. Adam makes a toast to new beginnings and then the lads start talking about football and Paul’s new job.
Susan and I zone out to a certain extent, turning in our chairs towards one another.
“Is the house still as beautiful as it was last time I visited?” I start.
She sips her drink and nods, eyes sparkling. “Oh, I’m obsessed with filling it with pretty things, it’s an addiction. Cushions and little bits of wooden furniture I find in the sales, stuff like that. It’s silly, really. But it looks so pretty.”
I don’t know why any of us ever suspected Susan of being the devil, she’s lovely, and just my cup of tea – a really girly girl.
“It’s nothing you should feel guilty about, I will be doing just the same in my first house.”
She searches my face and looks at the boys, still wrapped up in conversation about the Premier League. “Not our house, then?” she mumbles.
“Maybe, who knows? Early days. Lots going on.”
“Oh my god, yes. Tell me about your job. Please. I find it fascinating, the brain and all that.”
“Oh, god, Susan, it’s really fascinating, I agree, but not in the ways you think.”
She laughs, throwing her head back. “We have been watching a bit too much serial killer crap lately.”
“It’s actually really scary dealing with patients who’ve no idea when it started or how. It’s even scarier when they don’t want help.”
She touches my arm. “Tell me all about it.”
“Okay.”
We’ve finished dinner and are now partaking of iced desserts, coffee and more alcohol. Somehow, it’s all going together.
“Oh my god, toothache!” Paul yells, putting down his spoon and pushing his ice cream away. Adam takes his bowl and adds Paul’s leftovers to his. “Oh my god, fuck!” He holds the side of his mouth. I’ve been telling him for days he needs to go to the dentist about one of his molars. He keeps using that clove rub on it but the effect never lasts.
“Can’t be as bad as your run-in with Theo last week, eh?” Susan blurts, chuckling.
The silence around the table is deafening when Susan sees Paul’s face, and that of her husband. We’ve been raucous for a while now, ever since the third round of drinks, and our silence has suddenly made us realise the restaurant’s been filling up all the time we’ve been in here, and now we’re the only ones quiet.
Adam reaches across the table to take Susan’s hand; she’s had a bit to drink and isn’t Catholic, so she’s not trained to brush everything under the carpet like we are. A slip of the tongue… that I can forgive.
However, Paul not telling me about seeing Theo… well… different kettle of fish.
Everyone’s desserts are put to one side and people focus on sipping their coffee slowly, avoiding each other’s eyes. When Adam’s finished, he stands up and puts his hand in his pocket, announcing, �
�I’ll get this.”
“No, no, you don’t have to,” I protest.
“No, it’s my treat,” he says, rushing off to the bar to pay.
He comes back with a tray of lemon towels, hot and fragrant, plus the obligatory mint chocolates. He and Susan use the towels to clean their hands, then he swipes two of the chocolates into his pocket. Susan leans in and kisses my cheek as they make it known they’re leaving.
“Come by anytime, really,” she gushes, “Sunday roast always on, every week.”
“Thank you, babe. That’s very kind.”
Adam hustles his wife out and doesn’t broach Paul for a goodbye. They can’t get out of here fast enough.
Paul’s nursing his pint of beer, staring into it, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t even bid them goodbye. Is this who he really is? Is this drunken version of him the real Paul? He’s had six pints – I counted. I’ve had the same number of G&Ts. Adam stopped after two pints to drive Susan home. She had two glasses of wine and a little after-dinner brandy. Must have been the brandy that forced her tongue.
“Shall we go?” I ask Paul.
He nods, saying nothing.
What was so bad about running into Theo?
We’ll have it out at home.
I’m pulling my coat on, a little aggrieved he’s not helping me, even as we’re out on the street and I’m still pulling it on. Anger swells inside me as we begin the climb up the hill towards home. He didn’t even say farewell to his friends just then. He dined out (and drank free) tonight and didn’t even thank Adam.
“She shouldn’t have said anything,” he spits, sidling up beside me suddenly on the street.
I shake my head, my nerves frayed, my bones rigid with anger.
“Is this how it goes with you Bartons, hmm? You blame the people who out you, hmm? That’s a laugh. That’s really a laugh, that is.”
I storm ahead without a care for walking beside him. Suddenly he’s in front of me, stopping me from moving forward. Taking my hands, I see his vision is slightly blurred and it’s like he’s had more than six pints. Unless… he drank before we left the house… or he was getting shots in while I was in the bathroom of the Indian with Susan, gossiping as ladies do.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. He came at me and I saw red, that was all.”
My head feels like a boulder and I turn my cheek, trying to soak up the nonsense he’s saying without falling over.
“You hit him?”
“He was in Trinity and we crossed paths. He said something about not hurting Lily, don’t hurt Lily, all this bollocks, and I just laughed, then he grabbed me and tried to shake me so I lamped him, then security pulled us apart.”
“I can’t believe you.” I shove him out of the way and would trample him if I wasn’t so full of disbelief, my energy wrapped up in trying to understand how he gets himself into these messes.
Without a care for him, I stomp away even though we’re going uphill, only turning around when I hear a screech emanate from a female.
“Paul?” the woman yells, in puzzlement, I think.
I turn around and watch from a distance as a blonde woman, a bit older than us, certainly much shorter and of a slighter build than me, confronts him. He folds his arms and takes a grilling off her by the look of it. I’m not sure she knows he’s with anyone because she isn’t looking over at me, so perhaps she just saw him and didn’t see me storm off.
I watch, almost in slow motion, as she raises her hand and gives him the biggest wallop I’ve ever seen, right across his cheekbone. He bends his knees in pain and clutches his face, watching in shock as she walks off, throwing her hair behind her.
I think I’ve seen enough.
Before he sees that I’ve seen, I start running towards the taxi rank nearby. It’s not much more of a walk home, but I can’t be doing with anymore of his stupidity and fighting in the street just isn’t me.
Chapter Twenty
Arriving home, I feel about as drained as I’ve ever felt, depleted of everything because of him. I pick up my phone and send a quick WhatsApp to Theo, who’s abroad but will get WiFi intermittently, so he said.
Why didn’t you say he thumped you? Just found out from Susan and Adam. Can’t believe him!
I wait to see if he’s online and sure enough, two blue ticks appear beside my message, letting me know he’s received it. Then I notice he’s typing… and I wait to see what he’s got to say.
Not getting involved, Lily. Good luck to you with him. Always here for you. Love you, T x
Another kick to the gut. Basically, he’s saying he doesn’t want to know me anymore so long as I’m with Paul. Great. Great. That’s marvellous. My best friend of recent times is disowning me because I’m basically trying to save someone who so far has only demonstrated he’s not really interested in turning a corner. Great, feels like I’ve brought my work home.
I enter the bedroom, ready to punch something, but instead I decide to calmly remove my make-up, pull on my pyjamas and clean my teeth in the bathroom. After all this, I doubt he’ll be home tonight. He’ll call up his brothers, go drinking, anything but face me.
So I’m surprised as hell when the front door opens and closes. I leave the bathroom with the toothbrush in my mouth and stare at him, stood there with a great big mark on his cheek, his shoulders hunched, arms heavy, face to the floor.
Then he starts crying. I have no idea what to do. Paul’s crying?
I return to the bathroom, spit immediately and towel off, rushing back towards him.
“You need to tell me everything that happened with you and Theo,” I demand, lifting his chin with my finger and seeing the sorry look in his eye, “because I don’t understand.”
He flops into the sofa and holds his head in his hands. “What’s the point? You’re gonna leave me no matter what I say.”
I’m taken aback. So, is he scared I’ll leave him? Does he actually fear not having me in his life anymore? He’s always seemed so distant, treating me almost like I’m disposable, when maybe his fear all along is that I’d leave him, because that’s what happened to him in the past.
“The only way I’ll leave you is if you don’t tell me the truth.”
He presses his palms into his eyes and shakes his head over and over. I have a feeling and leave him where he is, marching to the bedroom. Rummaging around his bag, I find a small bottle of vodka, half drunk. I wonder if he sipped some of that before we went out tonight.
I take it to the living room and drop it into his lap. “That’s not for you to drink by the way. I knew you’d had a drink before we went out.”
He throws it across the room and somehow the bottle doesn’t smash, but it’s still an act of aggression I don’t appreciate.
I’m still standing and pick up my phone, showing him I can call Theo if I want. “I’ll do it, you know I will, and I’ll get it all out of him. So we can either do it like that or you can just tell me everything, right now. Calmly and civilly, tell me why you belted him.”
Paul rubs his red eyes and catches his breath, sighing as though in defeat.
“It’s true, we bumped into one another, or at least I thought we had. I put on Facebook that I was back in town and all, seeing as though I hadn’t told anybody. You saw it… I posted a pic of myself sitting in Trinity. Anyway, he’s like there, within half an hour. He finds me in H&M and confronts me. He tells me he’s going to tell you about what I did if I don’t do it myself… and I saw red. I smacked him. He just looked so smug, like he had something over me. I couldn’t believe it. We used to be best mates.”
If I remember rightly, Paul was slowly relegated to the periphery of Adam, Theo and Tom’s friendship during and after our university days. The aforementioned trio are all culture-vulture intellectuals sharing the same sorts of lofty ideas and ambitions. Tom is the nearest thing to a savant you’ll ever meet, Theo has a masters degree in theatre studies and drama and Adam has had to turn writing projects down recently because he’s so in demand.
Both Adam and Paul grew up on a council estate and have a heck of a lot of history, but aside from their football-playing days and school, I don’t know what else they have in common right now – except for maybe, me. Things have changed and people have changed.
If there’s anything Paul and I share it’s our search for a place in this world… an uncertainty about where we belong. I always thought I would become a writer or a librarian or something. Meanwhile Paul had loads of ideas about his career, including recruitment consultant, holiday rep, translator for the Foreign Office… all kinds of stuff… and he ended up doing his PGCE two years ago after all that went tits up. Who knows if he’ll survive a proper full-time job as a teacher? He’s never worked full-time before. He’s been a substitute… a part-time loafer. I’m trying to hold down a job and stick to one thing, but I don’t know if Paul will ever be able to. Meanwhile his best friends Theo, Adam and Tom always knew exactly what they were going to do with their lives.
If they were ever best friends, Theo and Paul, it was before we all left school and before the big wide world changed everything. We’ve all moved on. Just not Paul, it seems, clinging to the idea that people are going to keep covering for him because they were once ‘best friends’. Perhaps if you were once best friends, you’d always be best friends, unless the test of time shows you not to be in actual fact, friends at all.
I clear my throat and sit in the armchair, away from him, trying to calm myself down. “What is it he thinks I should know?”
His chest expands as he takes in air, psyching himself up to deliver the truth. He puffs and eventually admits, “At Susan and Adam’s wedding, I wasn’t single.”
It’s a sucker punch, straight to the gut, flooring me. That night, I was so happy. I thought I was getting my man, finally, and he broke me. And when he came back into my life recently, I thought he could heal that part of me that was broke, somehow mend me, by being with me.
Yet in this moment, it’s there, it’s always been there and will always be there. Betrayal. It hurts too damn much. It’s painful. Physically, but also emotionally, mentally.
Bad Friends Page 12
