Growing Up Twice (42 page)

‘Yeah,
the Teenager
. Baby, I could have improved on his act, let me tell you.’ We both laughed this time, but I blushed, my cheeks burning bright with the last flames of my office crush.

‘Well,
if only
Rosie hadn’t come along and interrupted your nefarious and shallow plans for me. Darn it, if I’d only known I could have fallen out with her for another reason too!’ I laughed but as I glanced out of the window at the afternoon drizzle I sighed hard.

‘You know, she’s full of bravado but I get the feeling she’s scared as shit that this is all going to go wrong,’ Jackson told me gravely.

I shrugged my shoulders.

‘She misses you guys very badly,’ he said to the back of my head.

I turned to look at him. ‘Well, she knows where I am,’ I said. ‘Or at least where I am until I have to move out because she’s landed me with a flat I can’t afford.’

Jackson shook his head, checked his watch and stood to put on his coat. ‘I have to run. Look, you’ve all had a bit of a strange time lately. A bad time. Now is the time when you need each other more than ever. One of you has got to make the first move,’ he said, obviously enjoying his moment as paternal influence.

I affected petulance with full teenage force. ‘But why me? Why do I always have to make the first move?’

Jackson leant over, ruffled my hair and kissed me on the lips. ‘Because I’ve got to lecture someone and you’re the only one of you dimwits here. And because it’s written all over your face how much you miss them too.’

I shrugged again and stood up to hug him goodbye. ‘I’ll miss you,’ I said, and I meant it.

‘I’ll miss you too, but I’ll be back in six months and maybe by that time I’ll have gotten over Rosie, you’ll have gotten over … whoever it is this week and we can have that affair I talked about.’

I laughed again and pushed him away. ‘Jackson, I
never
said that I wanted to sleep with you!’

He gave me one last lingering look. ‘Honey, you never had to
say
anything.’

By now he’s probably back in NYC. I do miss him. He was just about the only person I’m talking to at the moment.

The other thing I’ve done is to enrol for driving lessons. My first one is tomorrow night. I deliberately planned it for a Friday night so that I would have something to preoccupy me during the day and so that I won’t have to say, ‘Oh nothing,’ when people ask me what I’m up to that evening.

And in between planning my career, taking to the highways and not making up with my friends I think about Josh. Josh, Josh, Josh. Our brief encounter on the sofa and our brief encounter at the party. In fact, I’m having such a problem maintaining my resolve over Josh that I even find myself, like right now for instance, staring at the phone and repeating over and over again in the back of my mind, ‘Phone me, Josh, phone me, Josh.’

So fully absorbed am I in my new role as love-crazed spinster that the ring of the phone makes me jump and nearly spill my tea on my still-blank application form.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Jen, it’s Josh. You all right?’ The sound of his voice sets a flutter going in my stomach. Josh whose voice I always recognise and who nevertheless always feels obliged to remind me who he is every time we talk on the phone anyway, Josh who makes my cheeks turn pink. He sounds in an upbeat mood.

‘Um well, you mean apart from the recent Armageddon to hit my social life? I’m fine. How are you?’ I’ve changed my mind about being sensible, I can’t stop thinking about you and I miss you and do you want to come over right now and have sex? I mouth silently into the mouthpiece.

‘Oh, you lot will sort it out. You always do,’ Josh says, oblivious to my silent plea. ‘And look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Adem. Selin really wanted to tell you herself. He is a really sound bloke, you know,’ he adds loyally.

‘Yeah, well. We’ll see.’ I bet his ex-wife and kids don’t think so.

‘Anyway, the reason I’m phoning you –’ I feel a brief flurry of excitement and anticipation that Josh might ask me out and break the expected tedium of the up-and-coming weekend, and I know that my willpower will dissolve under no pressure at all in about 000.01 seconds. ‘– is that I wanted to know if you’ve read
Time Out
today?’

‘
Time Out
? No. I don’t need
Time Out
any more, I don’t have any friends,’ I say, wondering if he’s spotted some cool club we can go to, or some new restaurant in town.

‘The review of the exhibition?’ I had totally forgotten it came out today. I can tell that even Josh is becoming impatient with my introspection.

‘Oh God, Josh, sorry. What did it say?’ I hold my breath.

‘Yeah, it was good, really good. It said the collective had some good ideas and it was worth a look, but best of all he mentions me by name. Listen: “Painter Josh Mehmet may be traditional in his use of oils and canvas but all that is ordinary ends there. He has an eye for form and colour that is startling and engaging, and an emotive and passionate style that connects with his audience”.’

‘Bloody hell! Josh, that’s great. Emotive and passionate. Imagine!’ I imagine him being emotive and passionate with me and take a deep breath.

‘Yeah, and today I sold a painting. The one that was up for one hundred and fifty quid!’ Here we go, he’s going to invite me out to share his new good fortune.

‘Josh, that’s fab, are you going to celebrate?’ I prompt him.

‘No, not at the moment. I’m still not quite in the mood for celebrating and anyway, I haven’t got time. The
Time Out
bloke is interested in me exhibiting some work at his gallery. We’re having a meeting tomorrow, I have to go and paint before the terror of it all petrifies me into artist’s block!’ He laughs and I try to mask my disappointment. It turns out that the man actually
does
think about something else apart from me. This secret-admirer business isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. But my empty weekend aside I really am pleased for him, he deserves it.

‘Josh, that’s great. Thanks for letting me know.’

‘No problem. It sounds stupid, but I somehow get the feeling that Ayla is behind this. That she is helping me on. Does that sound stupid?’ His detached voice suddenly sounds very young and vulnerable.

‘No, not stupid. Not stupid at all.’ We listen to the sounds of each other’s breathing for a moment.

‘About the other night, everything I said …’

I wait for him to continue with bated breath. ‘Yes?’ I’m terrified.

‘Well, I meant all of it and, and well, the more I think about what you said the more I think you’re right, that we need to wait a bit. And the fact that you’ve insisted on it makes me realise you care about this too. It makes me feel good. Optimistic about the future, for the first time in ages.’

My heart melts and I’m glad I managed to keep my trap shut for once. ‘And me, me too,’ I say simply.

‘I’ll see you soon, yeah? Call me,’ he says. I say goodbye and hang up the phone.

The doorbell chimes. I’m not expecting anyone, Rosie said she wasn’t planning to come back until the weekend. Maybe she’s come to her senses and is back with her tail between her legs.

‘Hello?’ I ask the intercom system.

‘Jenny? Hello. It’s Adem, I thought we should talk about the flat.’

My heart sinks into my toes.

‘I understand you will be moving out soon?’

Rosie must have contacted him already. Good old Rosie.

‘Yes, come up,’ I say blankly. I leave the door on the latch, return to the living-room and slump into the sofa.

‘Hello? May I come in?’ he calls down the hallway. His stupid politeness rankles.

‘Yes!’ I’m in the living-room,’ I snap. ‘You know where it is, presumably.’

He appears in the doorway, and takes the chair by the phone. ‘Actually, I haven’t really been here since I bought the place. It’s looking pretty good though.’ He smiles at me and I have to admit his laughter lines are quite pleasant. At least he hasn’t gone totally to seed like some men his age, he’s still slim and he’s got most of his hair. Well, let’s get down to business.

‘So, I have to move out. End of the month. Can we have our deposit back, please? Two cheques would be best.’ I don’t think we really needed a personal visit to sort this out and I just want him out of the flat as quickly as possible so that I can go back to moping alone.

Adem shifts in his chair and leans forward, clasping his hands together as if he is about to pray. ‘Actually, Jenny, I wanted to talk to you about Selin.’

I sigh, audibly. ‘Really?’ I say with as much icy disinterest as I can muster.

‘You must think she is crazy, wanting to marry an old man like me.’

I nod. ‘Well, yes.’

‘I expect you wonder why on earth we got together …?’

‘Oh no, not really, I’ve seen it a million times before. Man hits middle age, man dumps wife and kids and goes off with first bit of young stuff he can find who’s blind enough or stupid enough to shag him. Man forgets he ever had a family.’ My dear old dad, still breaking my pretty heart in two after all these years.

‘Jenny, I was married, yes.’

I rest my case.

‘I met my first wife, Andrea, when I was twenty-two.’

‘I’m not really sure I want to hear this,’ I say.

‘Please. Let me speak. I met Andrea when I was twenty-two. She was eighteen. I hadn’t lived in London long, she was a barmaid in the local pub. I’d never seen anything like her. She was so full of life. A very pretty blonde girl. Vivacious, you know. Every night for two months I went to the pub and ordered a cola – I hadn’t found work yet, so I sat at the bar and made it last for as long as I could, just to talk to her.’

This is possibly the cheesiest story I have ever heard. ‘I’m sure the memories will comfort her on the day you marry your second wife.’

He looks at his hands, takes a deep breath and carries on.

‘Finally I found some building work, and I thought, well, now at least I can take her out somewhere decent, so I went down to the pub that night, but I couldn’t work up the courage. I thought I’d have a drink, just one and then I’d do it, but it never seemed like the right time. When she called time I was pretty drunk and I thought, that’s it. I’ve blown it, she must think I’m a fool. Just as I was getting ready to leave she marched round the other side of the bar and said to me, “Are you going to take me out, or what?” I was speechless, so I just nodded. “Good,” she said. “Friday’s my night off, meet me here at seven, we can go for a meal.” And she put her arms around my neck and kissed me on the mouth. Three months later we were married.’ He is smiling to himself as he recounts the tale, the hypocrite.

‘So, what you’re trying to say is that you got married too young, neither of you really knew each other and after twenty-odd years you’ve finally realised it’s never going to work?’

He winces at my words, I’ve finally managed to hit home. These are the things I never get to say to my father. He swallows and looks me in the eye.

‘Three years later she was dead. We had been planning to try for a baby. Back in those days there wasn’t so much screening or health checks for women. She had cervical cancer. She didn’t know until it was too late. By the time it was diagnosed there was nothing that could be done. She was dead in three months.’

I let the clanking sound of the radiator cooling off fill the silence. So he’s had a tragic first love. That doesn’t make it right.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ I say. I am sorry for poor Andrea.

‘Well, in time it hurt less and I have met other women, but never one who could make my heart sing like Andrea, not until I met Selin. She’s so different from Andrea, so brave and independent, so shy and gentle. But she has given me back my heart. I love her, Jenny. I love her with all the passion a human can muster. She thinks I’m mad for coming here to tell you all this. She thinks I’m was mad for telling it all to Rosie too. She thinks it is no one’s business but ours. But I can see how hurt she is. I know she is too stubborn to try and explain it to you, so I persuaded her to let me try. I hope you will be able to be happy for us one day. God knows, the last few weeks have been sad enough, but we have helped each other through and we do make each other happy, truly truly happy.’

I nod silently. It’s hard to let one’s opinion evaporate in a moment, even after a story like that, but I do believe he means what he says. I also believe that Selin is right, really it is none of my business. It just reminds me, at face value anyway, of all those years ago when I said goodbye to my dad, as my dad.

‘Don’t forget I love you, sweetheart,’ he had said. I never did forget. But he did. Right, snap out of it.

‘Adem, I’m sorry for being so rude. Maybe if Selin hadn’t insisted on keeping this a secret from us we wouldn’t have got so cross and we wouldn’t have jumped to the wrong conclusions. It will take some time to get used to but, well, if Selin is happy, I am happy for her.’ I continue tentatively, ‘What did Rosie say?’

‘She cried a lot, Selin said she would. And then she said more or less the same as you. The pair of them spent two hours on the phone, talking things over.’ I suppress a spurt of jealousy. Why Rosie first? Where’s my two-hour phone call? But seeing as getting Rosie and me in one place at the same time these days is nigh on impossible I let it go.

‘I’ll try and make it up to her, I promise. I’ll call her tonight.’

He nods and smiles. ‘Good, there is one other thing. The flat.’

My heart sinks again and I look around the flat I have come to love.

‘I don’t want the hassle of finding new tenants at this time of year.’

I am about to say that he won’t have any trouble finding new tenants at any time of year in London but instinct keeps my mouth shut.

‘So what I propose is that I cut the rent in half until the New Year. At the end of that time maybe you will have found a new flatmate, or maybe something else will have turned up and we can review the situation. In return, you being here will make sure the pipes don’t freeze up and cause me flooding.’

So, buy my friendship with an act of unparallelled kindness, is it? Nice one. However, I’m not about to fly in the face of the one piece of good fortune to come my way for a long while.