Monday to Friday Man (22 page)

Jack strokes my arm, before turning to everyone and commanding the room. ‘Doesn’t the birthday girl look beautiful? And tall,’ he gestures down to my heels, before kissing me.

Nancy’s mouth twitches as she says, ‘Come on everyone, dinner is served. Girls, bedtime now.’

‘Hang on, what about Guy?’ I say.

‘The famous dog walker,’ Jack adds.

The doorbell rings and in he comes, dressed to my surprise in smart trousers and a shirt. But he’s still wearing a hat. His navy hat, the one that I love. The girls giggle at his hat, before being whisked off to bed.

‘This is delicious paella, Nancy,’ Jack says. I reach for his hand under the table, to signal well done, as I’d told him that she loves compliments about her cooking.

Everyone murmurs their approval around the table, especially Jack and me. When Nancy goes to this much trouble I feel guilty that I don’t give her enough credit. My sister-in-law and I are wired in completely different ways, but perhaps I need to understand her, just as people need to understand me.

‘I’ve never had it with chorizo before,’ Jack continues, squeezing my hand now and I hold back from laughing.

‘It’s just one of my secret little ingredients, Jack,’ Nancy enthuses. ‘So, come on, Gilly. What do you wish for this year?’

I look at Guy. ‘Well, I’d love to write a novel.’

‘Have you read any of her children’s stories?’ asks Anna loyally.

‘What else?’ Nancy asks.

‘I don’t know.’ To meet someone, I want to say and to be happy. ‘What about you Nick?’

‘Be happy,’ he says, reading my own thoughts, ‘that’s all.’

‘Well, I’m so glad Gilly didn’t move to the country,’ Nancy states.

‘Me too,’ Jack says, clutching my hand territorially, ‘otherwise I wouldn’t have met this fabulous girl,’ he claims, addressing all of us now.

Guy looks over to us. ‘I’d jump at the chance to move.’

‘Would you?’ Anna asks in disbelief. ‘I always think of the country as a place to retire.’

‘No no. When we retire,’ Nancy emphasizes, ‘we’re not going to plant ourselves in some half-dead village where the highlight of the month is a bric-a-brac morning, are we, Nicholas? We’ll go back to Los Angeles,’ she declares.

‘I love LA,’ agrees Jack, and I catch them exchanging smiles again. Going well, I think with relief. A good lively debate is what it’s all about.

‘I much prefer London. We used to live in LA,’ Nick says, turning to Guy, ‘for the first few years of our marriage, but I’m glad I’m home.’

‘Right. So you want to live somewhere where it rains all the time,’ Nancy says, ‘and where no one smiles.’ She starts to clear the plates; Jack jumps up to help her. I watch him resting a hand against her back, asking what he can do. ‘No, no,’ she giggles, ‘you sit down.’

‘Where do you live, Jack?’ Nick asks, when he returns to the table.

‘Bath.’

‘Just out of interest, why don’t you live here?’ Guy asks.

‘Gilly thinks I’m secretly married.’ Jack smiles, leaning back into his seat, hands held behind his head.

‘Oh Jack, I only said that as a joke because you can never stay the weekend,’ I say. ‘He’s with me during the week but then disappears into a cloud of smoke on Friday. Puff!’ I clap my hands. ‘He’s gone! No one can get hold of him, his phone is switched off …’

‘Gilly.’ Jack frowns.

‘And then as if by magic he comes back on Monday.’

Everyone laughs, I notice, except Jack.

‘So come on, what
do
you get up to at the weekend?’ Nick asks.

At that point Jack’s telephone rings. Again. ‘Don’t take it,’ I urge. Is anyone that important going to call him tonight?

‘Sorry,’ he mutters, leaving the table with his BlackBerry.

When he returns Nancy asks him who it was. ‘Just my wife,’ he replies, winking at her, and I notice Nancy smiling back at him. She looks as if she wants to tear his hand off mine and eat him with lashings of whipped cream.

‘What do you do?’ Nancy asks Guy, after quizzing Jack on his career and marvelling at his success at such a young age. She’s already established that Jack’s thirty, Guy thirty-seven. I wonder if she would find Jack so attractive if he were a traffic warden? Would I, for that matter? Jack grabs the bottle of wine, waiting for Guy’s response.

‘I’m a landscape gardener.’

‘A gardener!’ Nancy repeats.

Oh God. She’s getting drunk. Does she realize how rude she sounds?

Guy nods, detecting her tone.

‘How much can you earn doing that?’ Jack asks. ‘What?’ he says to me, when I kick him under the table. ‘It’s a reasonable question!’

Nick glances his way.

‘Guy, just ignore him,’ I say with false merriment. Not going so well now, I think.

‘I admit I don’t earn a fortune,’ Guy says to Jack, without raising his voice.

‘Money isn’t everything,’ interrupts Nick.

‘Yeah, but it helps,’ Jack argues, gesturing to the lavish table decorated with candles and confetti, and the food in front of him.

‘Will you come and look at our tiny garden?’ Susie asks Guy, trying to steer the conversation somewhere else. ‘Mark and I are both useless and never have enough time, do we?’

‘Never,’ Mark agrees.

‘Of course,’ Guy nods, ‘I’d love to.’

‘Gardening,’ Nancy says again, ‘you’re really just a gardener?’

‘Nancy!’ we all shout at her. I can see Paul’s face expressing panic that these are the kind of people Anna hangs out with. I want to reassure him that we’re not all like Nancy. I turn to Jack, who’s gazing at her, almost in awe.

‘Well, I used to work in advertising, Nancy, but I stopped when I realized that I didn’t want to say at the end of my life that all I’d ever done was advertise toothpaste.’

I notice Nick and Paul smiling with Guy now.

‘At least I go to bed at night knowing I’ve earned a good honest day’s wage,’ Guy continues, ‘I’m not diddling anyone out of money, I’m not some dodgy bloke trying to convince you that you need life insurance at the age of twelve and I’m not some politician ripping off the taxpayer.’

‘Noble,’ Jack sums up.

‘At least I don’t make my money exploiting people,’ Guy says.

‘Sorry, what was that?’ Jack leans forward with great exaggeration.

‘More wine anyone?’ I ask, jittery.

‘I wouldn’t like to earn a living making a fool out of people.’

‘Oh, don’t be so moralistic, it’s entertainment,’ Jack says. ‘I love
Stargazer
,’ says Nancy, reaching across to touch his hand.

Next thing I know we descend into an argument for and against reality television.

‘Are you one of the judges?’ Mark asks Jack.

‘He’s a top producer!’ Nancy puts him straight.

‘Yeah, but I do judge too. Before all the singers are in front of the panel for the live show, I’ve heard them sing in the audition suite,’ Jack informs us. He stares at Guy. ‘So if you can’t sing a note and think you’re the reincarnation of Elvis, I’ll put you through.’

‘And you don’t feel guilty?’ Guy asks.

‘Shall we change the subject?’ I ask chirpily.

‘Not at all.’ He stares back at Guy. ‘It makes good TV.’

Guy excuses himself, asking Nancy where the loo is.

‘Down the corridor on the right,’ she directs, waving a hand dismissively at him.

I jump up to show him, giving Nancy a stern look on the way out.

As I lead Guy to the bathroom, I pull him to one side. ‘I’m sorry about Nancy. She’s had too much to drink and … you’re not enjoying this, are you?’

Pause. ‘Gilly?’ he says, searching my face.

‘What?’ I whisper.

‘Gilly!’ I hear Nancy now calling.

He looks at me, as if he wants to confess something important, but … ‘You’d better go,’ he says.

Nancy stands up, loses her balance and grips the edge of the table. I can see Paul is looking at Anna, his expression saying, ‘Are your friends like this all the time?’

‘Gilly, may I just say,’ she announces, ‘your time will come, sweetheart. Your time will come and when it does, I’ll be right by your side!’

Oh my God! I want to kill her. Very soon there’s going to be a death in the kitchen with the candlestick.

I notice Jack isn’t saying a word. Instead he reaches for the bottle of wine, knocking over a glass of water in the process. ‘Whoopsie,’ he says, followed by a hiccup. His telephone rings again, and he staggers out of the room.

‘He needs some black coffee,’ Mark suggests, but the only thing I can think about is who is calling him all the time. ‘Cheer up, Gilly. All I’m saying is your time will come,’ Nancy reaffirms.

Guy taps his spoon against his wine glass. ‘Time for what, Nancy?’ he asks, silencing everyone round the table. ‘Maybe Gilly’s time has come already.’ I catch both Susie and Anna smiling.

Nancy claps her hands. ‘Enough of this! Present time!’ She dashes out of the room and it’s some time before she returns with Jack, swaying on his arm. ‘Sorry,’ Jack whispers to me, ‘was dying for a fag.’

Nancy’s forgotten the presents. She stumbles out of the room again, and returns with a bag of gifts.

Soon I’m ripping off paper and ribbons and opening boxes of body cream, bubble bath, soap … ‘Do I smell?’ I laugh. Nick is opening his presents too, mainly clothes and aftershave from Nancy. I gave him some silver elephant cufflinks. Nick loved the elephants in London Zoo. I open Jack’s present. It’s an expensive-looking perfume, which I open excitedly and test against my wrist. I nearly choke, the scent is so overpowering. ‘I love it,’ I tell him. I catch Nancy turning to Guy disapprovingly.

‘I didn’t have time …’ he says. ‘I’ve been away and …’

‘Don’t worry, Guy,’ I tell him reassuringly.

‘You haven’t even got her a card?’ Nancy tuts.

Nick sighs. ‘Oh, Nancy, give it a rest. Sorry, Guy.’

Guy takes off his navy hat, leans across and puts it on me. He knows it’s one of my favourites. ‘Happy birthday, Gilly,’ he says.

Nancy places a chocolate cake in front of Nick and me, iced with the words, ‘THIRTY-FIVE TODAY!’ Everyone sings Happy Birthday to the twins.

‘Delicious,’ Jack says appreciatively, tucking in.

‘It’s lovely, Nancy. I must use this company,’ Guy says.

‘Excuse me?’ She stares at him and a silence descends across the table.

Guy looks up and over to me for reassurance. ‘The Gourmet Company? The boxes …’ His voice trails off.

Nancy’s face crumbles.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Guy says, realizing his blunder now. ‘Please leave,’ she orders.

Guy gets up, and I can’t help but notice Jack grin as he watches him leave the room. ‘Nancy, it was an innocent mistake,’ both Nick and I assure her, but it’s said in vain. She looks distraught, before emitting one giant moan and bursting into tears.

I look over to the door, wanting to rush after Guy, but then Jack’s mobile rings yet again. ‘They can leave a message,’ I insist, gesturing to Nancy, but when he looks at the number on the screen he takes the call and walks briskly out of the room.

‘I’ll be back in a second,’ I promise Nick and Nancy, determined to catch up with Guy. I open the front door; it’s pouring with rain. I race down the slippery wet steps and towards a white van. ‘Wait!’ I call out to him. ‘Don’t go!’

36

I wake the following morning, disorientated. Slowly recollections from the night before come back to me. I reach over to my bedside table and pick up my mobile. No message from Guy. I’d asked him to text me when he arrived home.

Last night, I’d caught up with him just as he was unlocking his white van outside Nancy’s house. I wasn’t sure how much Guy had had to drink. ‘I’m sorry,’ I told him breathlessly.

‘I had no idea, I wasn’t thinking,’ he explained, opening the passenger door, and quickly I stepped inside and sat down next to him.

The heavy rain slashed against the windscreen, my hair was damp. ‘I know,’ I told him, ‘you don’t have to go. Are you OK to drive?’

‘Fine. I’m not over the limit,’ he assured me.

‘I’m sorry about the way Jack and Nancy spoke to you about your job. She loves to tell me I’m just a shop girl.’ I’d smiled, hoping he wasn’t hurt.

We both sat quietly for a minute or so, listening to the rain. I rubbed my arms to keep warm.

‘Go back inside,’ Guy said eventually when the rain had settled. He gestured to a panel of buttons in his van. ‘You must be cold, the heater doesn’t work.’ He raised an eyebrow at my very short skirt.

‘I’m sorry,’ I apologized again.

‘Gilly, please don’t worry.’ He smiled that endearing smile. ‘Us gardeners,’ he said, ‘we don’t get out much. I had a great time.’

I hear the sound of water coming from the bathroom. Now, as for Jack, we slept in separate rooms last night. Jack was too drunk even to notice. His head thumped against the pillow the moment he sat down on his bed, so I left him to it. Until he apologizes for behaving like a twat last night I’m not going to speak to him. When the cab had dropped us home last night and I was carrying my bag of presents inside, Jack picked up Guy’s hat and said, ‘When are you going to wear that thing? Out on your bike selling onions?’

He enters my bedroom with a cheerful ‘Morning!’ as he towel-dries his hair and virtuously tells me that he’s already been out for a run, which has shifted his hang-over. He didn’t wake me because when he stuck his head round the door, I was sound asleep.