After the Party (33 page)

Ralph forced a smile. “So, you've made a new friend, have you?” he asked Jem in as pleasant a voice as he could muster.

Jem threw him a strange look. “Well,” she said, “it wasn't really like that. He kind of, er, forced himself on us. I stupidly mentioned that we had to go because Scarlett had been promised her favorite pizza, and I thought that would be the end of it, but he just kind of invited himself along. I felt a bit sorry for him because he'd just told me all about having a really terrible time with his ex-wife . . .”

“He's not married?”

“Well, no, not anymore. But the wife's trying to get custody of Jessica and he was so upset about it, it was a bit embarrassing really. I mean, I hardly know him, but it seemed a bit rude then to say no when he wanted to join us for tea. Just after he'd been so upset. You know.”

Ralph folded his arms across his chest. “But it was all right, was it?” he asked, thinking of the picture of familial harmony he had witnessed for twenty-eight long and unpleasant minutes outside the pizza restaurant.

Jem shrugged and pulled Blake out of his buggy. “It was fine. He's just not someone I really want to be friends with, that's all.”

There were a dozen things that Ralph could have said in reply to this last statement, any number of things that might have taken the conversation to a place where misunderstandings might have been ironed out and presumptions not given a chance to propagate and take root. But he didn't. Instead he just smiled at Jem knowingly and left the room.

T
he following day was forecast to be the Hottest Day of the Year So Far, with temperatures reaching seventy-seven degrees, so Jem decided to collect Scarlett from nursery early and meet Lulu and her two youngest boys on the South Bank for lunch and skateboarding. It was the last day of the half-term and London was awash with families. By the time Jem, Scarlett and Blake had dismounted from the number 68 bus outside Waterloo station it was one o'clock, the sun was at its peak and Jem was sweating lightly. Blake had spent the last fifteen minutes of the bus journey screaming plaintively from his stroller and Scarlett had taken it upon herself to be responsible for soothing him, jumping up from her seat at regular intervals to squash his angry cheeks between the palms of her hands and pet him slightly too hard on the top of his head and attempt to distract him with a very noisy squeaky toy that hung from the straps of his pram. This meant that Jem had spent the last fifteen minutes saying: Sit down, Scarlett. Leave him alone, Scarlett. You're making him worse, Scarlett. SIT DOWN, SCARLETT until the very sound of her own voice combined with the incessant whine of her baby and clucky squealing of her daughter made her want to shoot herself in the head with a gun, so she had no idea what the other passengers on the mostly full bus must have been making of it. She was sure that the
whole bus must have breathed out in relief as one as she and her noisy clan finally got off the bus and the hydraulic doors shhhed closed behind them.

She found her sister sitting on the pavement reading a book while her sons threw themselves nerve-rackingly around the skateboarding pit under the Festival Hall. Behind her a small steel band was belting out something cool and summery, which lent the entire area the feel of a Caribbean beach resort. Further along a sinewy man in cut-off leggings and nothing else was performing somersaults while simultaneously juggling three teapots. It was remarkable to Jem that every day while she walked the same triangular lines of her life—home, nursery, shops, home, nursery, etc.—there was a man here on the South Bank, not three miles away, juggling teapots. She felt a small familiar pull of regret that she was not living her life to the full. She'd closed off entire sections of the world to herself because she couldn't face the logistics of taking children out of her comfort zone, because it just seemed easier to stay at home or close to it.

“God,” said Lulu, hugging her warmly, “isn't it lovely?”

“Beautiful,” agreed Jem, “though buses plus heat waves plus children is a bit of a nightmare combination.”

“We walked!” said Lulu, her voice tinged with pride.

“What, all the way?”

“Yes, all the way. Though I wouldn't have gotten those two to do it if they hadn't had their boards with them.” She pulled Scarlett toward her and attempted to embrace her. Scarlett pulled away and looked vaguely affronted. A very Victorian child, Scarlett, when it came to public displays of affection. Lulu smiled.

“So,” she said, “how are you?”

Jem smiled. “Good,” she said, “I think.”

“You think?”

“Yes,” she said, clicking on the brakes on Blake's pram and lowering herself to join her sister on the pavement. Scarlett clambered onto her lap and she encircled her with her arms. “Weird week.”

Her sister's eyes widened. “How come?”

“That guy again,” she said, wondering how much Scarlett would be able to absorb and digest of what she was about to say.

“Single dad?”

“Yes,” said Jem, “that one. A funny thing happened yesterday.”

“Right . . .” Her sister pulled her sunglasses onto her head.

“Yes, he was at the playground and it's the first time I've seen him since the other, er, incident.”

“The yummy mummy incident?”

“Yes, that one. And he was just bizarrely friendly.”

Her sister raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Bloody cheek,” she said. “Did he ask you what you did with the flowers?”

“Yes.”

“God, what did you say?”

“I told him I'd put them in the trash.”

“You didn't!”

“Well, yeah, I did. I mean if his whole thing with me was that he thought I was some incredible amazing person who wasn't like anyone else then really he'd have been disappointed in me if I'd lied. That's what he'd have expected me to do, to be all polite and tra-la-la with him. So I just told him bluntly and he laughed. He thought it was really funny.”

“Blimey,” said Lulu.

“I know! He said, well, I'm not really sure what to make of it, but he said he'd been in a strange mood that day because of the,
you know”—she cast her eyes toward the crown of her daughter's head, explaining her obtuseness—“the mother. She's off the drugs, apparently, got a new boyfriend and now she wants custody of their daughter. He'd just finished talking to her when I bumped into him in the park. That's why he was so stressed, that's why he was so, you know,
mean
.”

“But still,” said Lulu, “everyone has bad days, everyone takes their shit out on people from time to time, but what he said to you, it was unforgivable.”

Jem shrugged. “I know,” she said, “but actually, the more I think about it, the more some of what he was saying was true. I
did
give him the wrong impression. I was playing games with him. And I did even look at his shoes and hate them. Plus what he said really made me think. I have turned into this tedious urban mum, all caught up in doing everything properly, in getting an early night, in timings and schedules and, I don't know, moaning about my husband and keeping myself to myself, and what he said, it touched a nerve. I knew what he was trying to say. He wasn't saying I was a bad person. He was just saying that I wasn't the person I thought I was. And he was right.”

“And you told him this, did you?”

“Yeah.”

Her sister raised her eyebrows and tutted.

“No, honestly. It's good.”

“It is not
good
. Some bloody lunatic man has been stalking you, insulting you and sending you tacky flowers and you tell him that actually, you really appreciate it?”

“Yes,” laughed Jem. And it was true. She'd lost sight of the big picture and Joel had seen it. He'd seen the real Jem buried away underneath her piles of baggage and then she'd snatched it back and he'd been hurt and surprised.

“Don't tell me,” said Lulu, “don't tell me you like him again, now?”

Jem shook her head. “No, categorically not. And there was this rather bizarre moment when we were leaving the playground and I thought we were about to go our separate ways, so I was saying good-bye to him and he looked at me and he said: It means so much to me that you've forgiven me, you really are a great person. I'm really sorry if I ever made you feel bad about yourself. And then he hugged me!”

Scarlett looked up at them then and smiled. “He did,” she agreed. “He did hug her. He did hug her really hard. And he did like this.” She passed her sticky hand across Jem's cheek. “And he was
crying
.”

Jem and Lulu looked at Scarlett and then at each other.

“Crying?” said Lulu.

“Well, no, not crying exactly.”

“Yes! He was! His cheeks was all wet!” cried Scarlett indignantly.

“Yes,” agreed Jem, “his cheeks was all wet and it was all a bit, well, odd, I suppose. But, you know, clearly the man had had a bad day and then when he asked where we were going I told him we were off for a pizza, thinking, well, he won't want to come because he won't be able to afford it but he did come.”

“And he let me eat his vanilla ice cream because he doesn't like it.”

“Yes.” Jem smiled. “Scarlett was
very
impressed with the ice-cream incident. Has been talking about it rather
a lot
.”

“You mean all these years of trying to win Scarlett's affections and all I had to do was palm off some unwanted vanilla ice cream on her?”

“Apparently so. Oooh, OW!” Jem moved Scarlett to one side and got to her feet. Theo had just fallen off his skateboard and
landed on his chin. He scrambled to his feet and looked around desperately for his mother, suddenly a small boy again and not the prematurely teenaged skateboard supremo. Lulu pulled him into her arms and examined the grazed chin. “Ouch,” she said, “that looks sore.” She pulled a tissue from her shoulder bag and wiped away the gravel. “Oh, it's fine,” she said, examining it again, “just a scratch. Come on,” she continued, “let's go to Giraffe.”

She gathered her elder son and her younger son and the six of them made their way across the crowded walkway toward the restaurant.

Now that Scarlett was out of earshot, Lulu asked her: “So, what is going on? Are you going to have an affair with this man?”

Jem threw her a look of astonishment. “No!” she said, “of course I'm not. I don't even like him. I told you, he's
odd
. And clearly his life is a mess. Why on earth would I want to get involved with a man like that?”

“Because you're looking for something?”

Jem threw Lulu a look. “What do you mean?”

Lulu paused and licked her lips. “I don't know,” she replied circumspectly. “You've just got this aura about you.”

“Aura?”

“Yes, you know, that thing that people get sometimes when they're . . . up for it?”

“You mean I'm like a bitch in heat?”

“No! Just that you seem . . .
available
.”

Jem looked at her sister, aghast.

“No, no, that's not what I meant. I can't explain it. But if I didn't know you, I'd say you were single.”

Jem let out a shot of ironic laughter. “Ha,” she said, “when, in fact, I'm thirty-eight, I've got two kids and I'm about to get married.”

“Yeah,” said Lulu, “I know.”

They walked to the restaurant courtyard and joined a lengthy line for tables. Scarlett wandered off to look through the windows and Jem turned to Lulu. “Ralph said no to sex,” she whispered.

Lulu widened her eyes at her in reply.

“Yes, last night. I instigated it. He said no.”

“But why?”

“I have no idea. He was all mumbly and incoherent. Just said he couldn't, he was too tired.”

Lulu nodded and grimaced. “You don't think he's a bit freaked out by the, you know, losing the baby, do you?” She whispered the word
baby
.

Jem threw her a look. “God, no, I don't think so. I think he's fine about that. Well, at least I assume he is. I mean, he
said
he wanted the baby, and he did turn up at the clinic to try to stop me but I think he was doing that for me, you know. I think he thought that I'd regret it if I went through with it. I don't
really
think he wanted a third child, not really, not deep down, and he was probably as relieved as me when it didn't happen. Anyway, no, I've been thinking about it and my theory is that he's just trying to pay me back, for all those times I turned him down.”

“But why? Why would he be so petty? I thought you two were getting on really well at the moment?”

“Well, yes, we are, but, I don't know, Ralph's been a bit strange the past couple of days, even before the no sex thing. A bit distant.”

“Yes, well, Ralph's always been a bit distant.”

“No, but more than that. I don't know. It feels,” Jem began, “it feels like he's drifting away. Which is ironic, given that he's never spent more time with us as a family and he's physically so present, but emotionally . . .”

“You're not going to split up, you two, are you?” Lulu bit the corner of her lip.

“God, no, of course we're not. We're getting married! Of course we're not going to split up. Why did you even say that?”

“I don't know,” said Lulu. “It just seems like the pair of you keep taking two steps forward and one step back.”

“Yeah, but two steps forward, one step back. You get there in the end. Don't you?”

She turned her head away. It suddenly occurred to her that she might cry and she did not want to cry, not here, not now. Something bad was happening to Jem and Ralph. Something worse than resentment about the division of labor, something worse than resentment about lack of sex, something worse even than complacency. It felt as if they'd reached some invisible fork in the road and Ralph was striding away from her without a backward glance.