Life and Soul of the Party (13 page)

In a bid to prove her wrong I attended three birthday parties (two in Withington and the other in Didsbury), and an engagement party in Stretford. And while it was interesting to discover that my sister’s group of friends had a more happening social life than I’d first imagined, it failed to result in a single sighting of Melissa. For a while I began to think that perhaps Nadine’s friends had less crossover with Melissa’s friends than I had imagined but then Nadine told me about a Hollywood-themed fancy-dress party in Altrincham and I just knew in my gut that Melissa would be there.

The second I saw Melissa arrive with her friends it occurred to me that I hadn’t really thought about what I would do once we were in the same room. But as she took off her coat in the hallway, I spotted her costume and guessed that she had come as Annie Hall. I knew then that I had the perfect way to make a better second impression if only I could find the right prop.

I made my way up to Simon and Cath’s bathroom, locked the door behind me and started looking for anything that could be used to help me in my endeavours with Melissa. As I frantically scanned the room, opening cupboards left, right and centre, I came across air fresheners, loo rolls, a copy of the
Guinness Book of Hit Singles
, a box of tampons, a spider plant and two issues of
Heat
magazine, but not a single thing that might have had a Woody Allen connection no matter how tenuous. But as I sat down on the loo to take stock I glanced up at a shelf on the wall and spotted a red plastic lobster keyring dangling from the wall bracket. Cheap and tacky looking, it couldn’t have been more perfect for what I needed and I knew this would be the best-ever way in with Melissa. Delving into the pocket of my jeans I pulled out a tenner and left it on the shelf by way of recompense, then made my way back downstairs.

I was in Cath and Simon’s kitchen talking to them about the plans they had for renovating the room when Chris appeared from nowhere looking incredibly pleased with himself, as though he had some kind of news. I could tell right away that it wasn’t meant necessarily for Cath and Simon’s ears, so making an excuse I took him to one side.

‘Okay, what is it you’ve seen or heard?’

‘Brace yourself for it because it’s big news. I’m not sure but I think our small but perfectly formed friend Melissa has just pulled some bloke.’

I couldn’t think who it might be.

‘It’s not Simon’s friend Alex, is it? I remember he was sniffing round her last summer but I’m pretty sure he’s got a girlfriend now.’

‘No, it’s not him,’ replied Chris. ‘It’s some young-looking guy I’ve never seen before.’

‘And they were kissing?’

‘No, but you could tell something was going on. He was doing that thing blokes do when they’re trying to give girls the impression that they’re really listening to every word they’re saying.’

‘Is he good-looking?’

Chris shrugged. ‘Maybe, if you like that sort of thing. He’s tall-ish, all-right looking and he’s dressed like a bit of an idiot – but I’m guessing that’s just his costume for tonight. He’s definitely toy-boy material though. Mid-twenties tops.’

I was shocked. ‘I have no idea who this guy could be.’

‘Do you think he knows how old she is? I suppose to be fair to him Melissa is quite well preserved for her age but even so . . . he’d have to be blind to think that she was under thirty.’

I punched Chris in the arm as hard as I could but he didn’t even flinch.

‘Don’t be so mean. If he’s as young as you say she’s probably just basking in the glow of a bit of male attention. I know I wouldn’t mind having some young guy trying to chat me up instead of just holding doors open for me or telling me that I remind them of their mum. I can’t even remember the last time I got wolf-whistled by a builder.’

‘Maybe Melissa’s new bloke has got a friend for you?’

‘Don’t think you can palm me off that easily,’ I replied narrowing my eyes. ‘You, I’m afraid, are stuck with me for life.’

For a second I thought I detected a small flash of unease on Chris’s face, but when I looked for it again it was gone and I told myself I was being silly.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked, thinking not for the first time in recent weeks about the episode in the car coming back from Charlotte and Cameron’s party. ‘Things are all right with you, aren’t they?’

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Really I’m fine,’ and then he kissed me and headed outside for a cigarette.

Billy and I had been talking for quite a while.

Somehow or other we went from talking about who we knew at the party to talking about the weather, which in turn had led us to the topic of ‘Places that we’d go if someone handed us the keys to a Doctor Who-style Tardis’. I’d told Billy how I’d want to go somewhere nice and warm where the sun would bake me – like Ibiza maybe – where Vicky and I had taken our first holiday together. Or even Woolacoombe Bay on a good day like the August bank holiday a few years back when Vicky, Laura and I had spent an entire ‘boy-free’ weekend on the beach soaking up the sun. At a push, I told him, I would accept being in bed at my gran’s house in Aberdovey because even if it was freezing outside, my gran’s house always felt warm and cosy. Billy asked if he could come and see it with me one day and I replied probably not unless we could get our hands on an actual Tardis as my gran had died a few years back. There was an awkward silence and then he asked if I wanted another drink.

It was really odd. I think we both knew that his question had a deeper meaning behind it. Something along the lines of: ‘I’d like to carry on talking to you but I’d also like to give you the opportunity to walk away if this isn’t really happening for you’, and the truth was I didn’t know whether this was happening for me or not. He was good-looking, funny and polite. And he’d made good conversation without trying to pummel me to death with his opinions or jokes. But the big problem was that he was young. Young enough to have prompted me to do some subtle investigation during our conversation. Young enough for me to guesstimate that he was somewhere between twenty-four and twenty-six. And therefore young enough for me to think twice about whether or not it would be a good idea to let him get me another drink.

He must have sensed my hesitation because rather than wait for me to answer he said, ‘Look, this might be a little too much information given the short amount of time we’ve been talking but my bladder is full to bursting.’

‘That’s good to know.’

‘The thing is,’ he continued, ‘my full bladder is actually your fault.’

‘How come?’

‘Well, I would’ve gone earlier but I was enjoying talking to you too much to even think for a second about how I needed to answer the call of nature. Anyway, here’s my point: given that I’m going to have to join what will undoubtedly be the world’s longest queue for the toilet, I may be some time. So how about this: I’ll go to the loo and then get us a drink – and here’s the good bit – you can feel free to use this pause in the conversation to make a break for it and run for the hills or not. If you’re here then great, if you’re not then I completely understand.’ He paused and held out his hand for me to shake, ‘If I don’t get to speak to you again, Melissa Vickery of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, it was nice talking to you.’

I waited until he had completely left the room before I covered my face with my hands, lowered my head and laughed with a mixture of shame, embarrassment but above all delight. It had been a long time since I’d met someone like Billy. A long time. And although there were a million and one reasons why he was completely unsuitable for me I was finding it hard to escape the feeling that after his ridiculously charming exit I didn’t really care. I thought again about Vicky telling me I needed to move on and how in the space of a single short conversation Billy had made me feel more attractive and more wanted than I’d felt in ages.

Still undecided about whether I had the guts to be here waiting for him when he returned, I decided to seek out Vicky and Laura for their advice. But in fact Vicky was standing right in front of me.

‘I was just about to go looking for you.’

‘Oh, really?’ She eyed me suspiciously. ‘Why would that be? You look guilty, Mel, what have you been up to?’

For a moment or two I wondered if I really did look guilty but then a smile cracked across Vicky’s face and she was unable to stifle her laughter any longer.

‘Who told you?’

‘Chris, about ten minutes ago and I’ve been hanging around by the door keeping you under surveillance ever since. So come on then, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing really. It’s ridiculous.’

‘That goes without saying.’

‘Okay, do you remember me telling you about the guy from Ed and Sharon’s New Year’s Eve party who just appeared from nowhere and started going on about my Converse?’

‘Are you saying that’s him?

I nodded.

Vicky laughed. ‘But didn’t you say he was a bit weird?’

‘Only because I didn’t know him. He’s actually really nice and I’d be really happy if there wasn’t one small problem . . . he’s twenty-five.’

‘And does he know that you’re . . . you know . . . not so twenty-five.’

‘I told him I was a mature student, but I couldn’t seem to find a way of dropping the words, “Oh, by the way I’m whole decade older than you,” into the conversation. This is so shameful. I can’t be carrying on with guys young enough to still be doing paper rounds. It’s unseemly.’

‘You must get chatted up at university all the time.’

‘Not at all.’ I shook my head. ‘If being back in full-time education has shown me anything it’s this: that in the university pecking order mature students are the lowest of the low. Not that I fancy them at all but I’m completely invisible to the guys in my classes. They only ever notice me if they want to borrow my lecture notes.’

‘They’re intimidated by your wealth of life experience.’

‘No, I think they’re just afraid of catching old-people disease. I used to be the same when I was their age. I remember the mature students on my first course freaked me out a bit too.’

‘But age thing aside, is he nice?’

‘He’s really funny and sweet,’ I replied, ‘and he did this weird thing with this,’ I dug into my pocket and showed Vicky the red lobster key chain, ‘which I’ll explain another time. If I’m being honest, Vick, if he was just five years older I wouldn’t have a problem with him at all.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know.’

Vicky raised her eyebrows mischievously.

‘Are you sure you don’t know or are you just saying that? It would be one to tick off the list after all.’

‘You’re loving this, aren’t you?’

‘I can’t help it,’ said Vicky. ‘Things like this never happen to me. Where is he now anyway?’

‘Gone to the loo then off to get me a drink.’

‘So he could be back any minute? Do you want me to stay?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely sure.’

Vicky’s mobile phone rang from inside her bag. She took it out and checked the screen. ‘It’s our home number, so I’d better take it even though it’ll probably just be Mum calling to ask where I keep the “good” biscuits.’

‘Hi, Mum. Everything all right?’

‘Everything’s fine. It’s just William. He woke up about half an hour ago saying that he was thirsty, then when I gave him water he said he needed a wee, then after he had a wee he said that he was too wide awake and could he stay up with me, and when I said that not being tired wasn’t a good enough excuse he started crying and wouldn’t stop until I said that I’d let him talk to you. He’s upstairs at the minute. Shall I put him on?’

None of this was a particularly big surprise. William hadn’t been sleeping well for a few weeks now. He’d regularly been waking a few times in the night with a head full of suggestions, comments and questions as though his young brain was working at such a high capacity that it was unable to contain itself.

Listening to the sound of static as Mum made her way upstairs to William’s room I thought about how it had taken me nearly half an hour to settle him down for bed, and how as I’d crept out of his room, all I’d wanted was to crawl into the bath and then fall into bed myself. Yet here I was, late at night, at a fancy-dress party trying my best to prove that I still had what it took to have a good time.

Mum put William on the phone.

‘Hello, sweetie. What’s up, my baby?’

‘Why aren’t you and Daddy here with me tonight, Mummy? I don’t like it when you go out.’

‘I’ve already told you a million times, sweetheart,’ I replied. ‘Mummy and Daddy are at Cath and Simon’s house for a party.’

‘But why are you at a party?’

‘Because we’re celebrating,’ I replied.

‘Celebrating what?’

‘Their birthdays. Cath and Simon have just turned thirty-five.’

‘But why?’

William could play the ‘why?’ game for hours without getting the slightest bit jaded. Normally I would have cut him short and insisted that he go to bed but my mind flicked forward to a row we’d had earlier in the day when I’d caught him banging one of his toy cars on the brand-new units in the kitchen and making a big black mark on the door. I well and truly lost it and ended up yelling at him so loudly that he burst into tears. Despite apologising profusely and taking him to the newsagents to buy a Mini Milk I could still feel the guilt lurking deep within me and I hoped that by indulging him in a few minutes of ‘Question Time’ I might be able to somehow end the day guilt neutral.

‘Everybody has birthdays, William,’ I explained. ‘And Cath and Simon have had one just like you had yours.’

‘Did they get presents?’

‘Probably.’

‘Did they get a Dalek piggy bank like me?’

‘I doubt it, sweetheart. Daleks can be very scary you know. They say: “Exterminate! Exterminate!”, don’t they?’