39 Weeks (16 page)

Tall Fran arrived
at the same time as
the main course, apologising for being late
, and the whole series of questions started again for her benefit. Although this time round, now that everyone else knew pretty much the whole scenario, some of the others chipped in saving me the bo
ther of saying it all a second time
.

‘I knew it.’ Tall Fran said when she’d caught up.

‘What!’ I said slightly shaken.

‘You didn’t.’ Tricia said. ‘None of us knew, how could you know?’

‘Well not knew exactly, guessed. As soon as Judy said she was off the drink and not wearing her usual pulling outfit
last time we went out
I wondered.’ Tall
Fran admitted smugly.

‘I never thought anything.’ Tricia said.

‘No well that’s
because you don’t think
most of the time anyway.’ Short Fran chipped in.
‘And you were all zoned out in Daniel obsessed mode that night.’

‘How’s it going this time round with Daniel anyway?’ Shelley said.

‘I forgot about that, are you going back out with him again?’ I said
 
 

‘Yes it’s
all back on again.’ Short Fran answered for Tricia. Tricia just sat there looking smug.

‘And how is it going?’ I asked.

‘Well I’m not supposed to be saying anything to anyone about it yet, but actually we’re . . . well we’re going to look at rings tomorrow.’

‘No way.’ Mel said. ‘Isn’t this the bloke that
was so selfish and
drove you so mad you dumped him
?’

‘Yeah, and the one she caught out seeing someone else.’ Shelley added.

‘And the one who had that bi
mbo slobbering all over him that
night at Zee Zee’s
when she got back with him
.’ Short Fran said.

‘And now you’re getting engaged to him?’
an amazed
Dianne said
.

‘Look I know he has this reputation for being a bit of scumbag but . . .’ Tricia started to say.

‘Yeah there’s a reason for that
.’ Short Fran interrupted, but Tricia just glared at her before continuing.

‘But, he’s changed, u
s splitting up and everything well it made him think, and he said he really missed me, and . . he loves me . . . and he wants to prove it by getting engaged.’

‘Well it’s your funeral. Once a scumbag always a scumbag I say.’ Short Fran said acerbically. ‘I give it a couple of months at the most before he’s up to his old tricks again.’

‘No I think he really has changed.’ Tricia said.

Really changed! Oh please, give me a break. Short Fran was right
,
once a scumbag always a scumbag. I mean, a lying arse is a lying arse and will always be a lying arse. I knew Tricia knew that, all women know that, deep down. But she loved him and had fooled herself into thinking he meant it when he said he’d changed and that he loved her. I couldn’t really blame her, I mean we’ve all done it at some time or another haven’t we?
We’ve all gone along wit
h the crap
bloke
s
tells us because
we want to believe
they’re being sincere
.

‘Well just don’t rush into anything.’ I said, diplomatically avoiding what I was really thinking.

The others polished off their second bottle of wine, I
’d
stuck with my
glass
of
low alcohol, and ordered another
. The conversation veered away from Tricia’s dodgy taste in men, thank goodness, and on to more general
safer
topics like Helen’s new shoes that she’d got in the sale for thirty quid,
and short Fran and tall Fran’s near miss last Saturday night when some idiot got caught trying to spike their drinks, and Shelley’s immanent shacking up with Nick, which reminded me I hadn’t yet told everyone about my own move.

‘Hey I forgot to tell you all I’m moving soon myself.’ I announced to the table in general.

‘You found somewhere?’ Shelley asked. ‘I was going to suggest going to see Nick’s flat this weekend.’

‘Yeah, remember I told you about Gill at work moving to
Gloucestershire
and boring me to death with all the des res details, well I’m moving to her old flat
on Kingsley
Road.
’

‘What’s it like?’ Tricia said finally getting over her sulk because we didn’t think much on her choice of fiancée.

‘Well it’s got two bedrooms for a start. The kitchens not a bad size,
and
the living rooms huge.’

‘Upstairs or downstairs?’ Short Fran said.

‘Upstairs.’

‘Won’t that be a bit difficult with a baby, I mean
how’re you going to manage with pushchairs and things?’ Shelley said before short Fran got a chance to.

‘Oh.’
I uttered.

I hadn’t thought of that, how was I going to manage? ‘But it’s really nice and the rent’s only thirty quid a month more than I’m paying now and . . I’ll manage, I mean the pushchair thing’s only for a few months, I’ll manage somehow.’
I said.

‘The pushchair thing is for about two years give or take.’ Short Fran said knowledgeably, although how or why she knew so much about it I had no idea.

‘Oh.’

‘Maybe you should think about it and look for a ground floor place.’
Di said.

‘Too late, I’ve already signed the lease for a year.’

This time it was everyone el
se’s turn to utter a deflated ‘o
h’ on my behalf and lapse into silence.

Shelley broke the un-cheerful gloom saying ‘Well it’s not brilliant but you’re probably right, you’ll manage somehow. Maybe there’s somewhere in the hall
downstairs
or something where you can leave a pushchair
.’

‘Yeah maybe.’ I said unconvinced, but hoping she was right.

No one wanted a sweet, well I did actually but if no one else was having one I didn’t want to be the only one pigging out on afters, they were all keen to move on somewhere a bit more lively. It was rare nowadays that all eight of us were out together and we all felt we should make the most of it. I mean Tricia was getting engaged, Shelley was moving in with Nick, Di had been with the same
bloke
since they
’d
left school so it was only a matter of time before they
go
t married, and I was pregnant
. W
ho knew when we’d get another chance to all be together like this again, if ever. In honour of this we all agreed we should go to The Purple Palace one more time. 

None of us had been there for years. It was one of those places that you go when you’re theoretically sixteen or should that be legally sixteen, but in reality are only fourteen going on fifteen
and can pass with a lot of makeup and the right dress. It was the place we’d all gone to week after week
when we’d still been at school,
and where some of us had met each other and we’
d bonded as a group
and had
been friends ever since.

We all left
the restaurant
in our separate cars and met up again outside the Palace. Something about being back on our old stomping ground turned us all back into the gigg
ling teenage girls
we used to be, and we larked about cracking risqué jokes
and pushing each other a lot as we queued to pay on the way in
just as we’d done nearly fifteen years ago.

Once we were inside our mood sobered up instantly. Oh my God this place was dire. I don’t remember it being like this at all. In my head it was this vast place all
lush and ritzy with a sort film-
set quality to it, everyone dressed up to the nines and exchanging witty banter
, interspersed with gorgeous boys, some more gorgeous than others, trying to impress us girls with
all
their macho charm and pulling powers.
The reality from my now twenty eight year old perspective was somewhat different.

For a start I was surprised at how small the place had become, and it was really shabby, had it always been this
rough
? And everyone was so young, I felt like the teacher in a playground
full
of secondary school kids. And I was definitely overdressed, all the kids, well the girls anyway
,
seemed to have turned up in what might as well have been their underwear
. We got a few funny looks, like ‘what the hell are you lot of has-beens doing here?’
hardly surprising really as I was wondering just that myself, and when I managed to stop staring long enough to check with the others
,
they looked like they were all thinking along the same lines as I was.

‘Let’s get out of here.’ Short Fran shouted to
the rest of
us trying to make herself heard over the ear-splitting cacophony that passed as music.

‘One dance,’ Shelley shouted back. ‘We gotta have one dance just for old time’s sake.’

‘No we don’t,’ short Fran said, but she was talking to herself as the rest of us had already moved onto the dance floor.

It was
weird dancing
all together again, in what we’d thought of fondly as our place for so long. Of course it had never been our place like we’d discovered it or invented it or something, but still it did
sort of
feel like that. We ignored the hostile staring from our juvenile current day counterparts, and for about five minutes anyway
,
were lost in the reverie of our uncomplicated youth.

We left
after our one dance
and walked the half a mile up the road to Chicago’s where we all felt more comfortable and could laugh at how dilapidated and dreadful The Purple Palace really was, reminiscing about some of the good times we’d had there
,
dreadful or not
.

We couldn’t get a table at Chicago’s so we just took up a lot of space at the bar. The evening had been
great
, it was so good seeing everyone again and laughing and joking around the way we always did when we all got together that I didn’t want it to end, but I was tired, like really tired. I’d got so used to staying in and
having
early nights
all this socialising, especially after the long week I’d had, was taking its toll. So when
about an hour later Mel suggested we go on somewhere I
said I’d have to
duck out.

Shelley, despite her protests to the contrary earlier about being okay with not seeing Nick, had phoned him twice already, and he’d phoned her at least three times just to make sure she was alright she said
, they’d really got it bad those two.
And now presumably not being able to stand another minute apart, they’d arranged for Nick and his all male party to meet our all girl party at Chicago’s before going on to wherever it was they were all going
to go
on to
,
together.
When I heard this
I
decided I
was definitely ducking out, and longed wistfully for my cosy bed at home. The girls made a few token protests about my going
but I really wasn’t up for it. So I said my goodbyes, promising to keep in touch with everyone, and left.

I had to walk all the way back to the Palace to pick up my car
that was
parked in the car park across the road, and tired as I was didn’t notice the petrol gauge hovering over empty. I made it to the car park entrance before
the damm thing died on me. I tried again and a
gain to get the stupid thing to start
again
, but of course
it wouldn’t, and soon there were
a couple of cars
behind me
trying to get out but I was blocking the
ir
way. So they just sat in their cars bibbing because of course that always makes other cars
miraculously
go
when they’ve run out of petrol,
doesn’t it?

I tried to smile and mouthing sorry lifted my hands and shook my head hoping someone would get the message that there was nothing I could do, and that I could do with a bit of help to at least push the car out of the way if nothing else. Finally someone got out of one of the bibbing cars and started walking towards me. Thank
God, I thought. Then changed that
abruptly to
‘
oh shit
’
. It was Matt.

‘Hi, having a spot of car trouble? Seems to be my week for rescuing people from breakdowns.’

It wasn’t Matt it was James. Oh thank you God. Thank you, thank you, thank you. ‘I think it’s just run out of petrol, but if you could just help me push it out of the way . . .’