Still Thinking of You (27 page)

43. Alone Together

Tash had woken up with a nagging hangover, made worse by disappointment when she discovered that Rich had left early to go boarding. He hadn’t left her a note to say when he’d be back or where he’d be, in case she wanted to meet up with him. She’d thought that she had plans of her own, but it was beginning to look as though they might not come off. Tash had stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for Jayne, for half an hour now, and there was no sign of her. Last night they’d agreed to meet at 9.15 a.m. to go snowboarding together, but Tash wondered if Jayne had forgotten altogether or simply slept in. She was just about to go and look for her when she spotted Lloyd coming out of the lifts.

‘Hi.’ Lloyd was thrilled to see Tash. ‘Would you like to join us? Kate, Ted and I are going to La Chapelle d’Abondance.’

Lloyd was desperate for Tash to take him up on the offer. He knew that Ted was depressed and Kate was deceived, and as a consequence Lloyd was disheartened. Kate seemed to be aware of her husband’s profound sadness, but could not understand how a fall on the slopes had brought about such an air of melancholy. She repeatedly asked Ted, and then Lloyd, for a further explanation neither could nor would provide. Ted had agreed to ski, but only because he thought that they could ski at a distance from one another, using the open space to hide in. Lloyd couldn’t imagine the morning being that much fun. Perhaps if Tash joined them the mood would be less edgy.

Ted’s confession weighed heavily on Lloyd’s mind. He’d had no idea. Of course he hadn’t. He hadn’t seen Ted for months, not properly, not to talk to. And, besides, he’d been absorbed in his own problems. Lloyd felt a little ashamed. He’d called Greta late last night, hoping that she would offer some comfort or cheer. She did accept his apology for his call on Saturday, but she’d still been a little monosyllabic when it came to dishing out the sympathy towards Ted.

‘I think he should talk to his wife. He’s not being fair.’

‘Do you think I should talk to Kate?’

‘Don’t be foolish, Lloyd. It is none of your business,’ Greta had replied in her brutal, Austrian, plain-talking way. She had then turned the conversation to one about her setting up the video the previous night, but it recording the wrong channel. Greta blamed the video recorder for being too complex. Lloyd admired her confidence. He knew that in the same situation he would have blamed himself for being too simple. He couldn’t really expect her to sympathize with the dilemmas of his friends, not when she hadn’t even met them and they’d shown no interest in meeting her. At least she hadn’t blown a fuse that it had taken him forty-eight hours to call her back. Sophie would have gone wild about something like that. Life was easier with Greta. He smiled at the thought.

Lloyd grinned hopefully at Tash. He could certainly do with some light relief, and he wondered if Tash was prepared to be just that.

‘You’d be doing me a big favour. Things are a little tense between Ted and Kate.’

‘Oh, why is that?’

Lloyd stumbled, ‘Ted has been a bit stroppy since his fall.’ Lloyd blushed as he realized that he’d used the words ‘Ted’ and ‘has been’ in the same sentence. However innocently meant it was too close for comfort. ‘I think he’s a bit tender.’

Lloyd felt mean portraying Ted as the archetypal man who couldn’t handle or admit to pain, but in many ways that was exactly what Ted was.

Tash liked Lloyd because of his drunken but excruciatingly honest outburst the other night and did want to get to know him better; however, she didn’t fancy spending the morning with Ted or Kate. The thought of stammering her way through conversations about the headline news in
Les Echos
chilled her to the bone. No, of course, she hadn’t read the papers. She never read newspapers except on Sunday, and even then she mostly read the colour supplements, and besides that she was on holiday. And to top it all off the newspapers were in French! Nor was she up to having to dredge up an opinion on League tables for preschools in central London. Her tongue and head were too swollen with alcohol and her stomach was having its own private rave.

‘I’d love to, Lloyd, but I’m supposed to be meeting Jayne. If she ever turns up.’

‘Where’s Rich?’

‘Not sure. He might be boarding with Jason. He left before I woke up this morning.’

‘Well, I do know Jason had a very early start, too,’ Lloyd grinned.

‘Really?’ Tash could sniff gossip.

‘He took a lady friend, and I use the term “lady” very loosely, back to his last night. Jase has the room next to mine. Honestly, I’m thinking of suing him for noise pollution.’

Tash giggled. ‘You’re just jealous.’

‘No, I’m not. Really. I don’t want a string of minuscule chances at love. However busty and blonde and young that chance might be. I’m too old for those dance-floor encounters.’

‘You’re the same age as Jase.’

‘Only in reality, and Jase doesn’t live in reality,’ Lloyd smiled and shrugged.

Tash wondered if Jayne had somehow got wind of the fact that Jase had been entertaining. Maybe she was upset.

‘I’d better go and look for Jayne.’

‘Will Mia be joining you two?’

Tash shook her head. What did Lloyd take her for, a masochist?

‘In that case, if you see her, tell her to call me on my mobile after her lesson with Pierre, and I’ll come to meet her.’

‘She’s having a lesson with Pierre?’ Tash couldn’t help but smile to herself. Mia had been so dismissive of the idea.

‘Yes, but it’s a secret. She wants to pretend she’s a natural, so don’t mention that I let it slip. She chose Pierre because, apparently, he has very large forearms and that makes him a great boarder,’ Lloyd winked and headed off towards the reception.

Tash knocked on Jayne’s door twice before Jayne answered it. Jayne opened the door just an inch or two. When she saw Tash her beam disappeared and disappointment flickered across her face. Tash realized that Jayne had obviously been expecting Jason. Poor girl.

‘Hi, I wondered if you were still on for boarding,’ smiled Tash.

Jayne stared at her, confused. She shook her head.

It had never occurred to Jayne that she could lose him.

She wanted to resolutely believe that now she had told Rich exactly how she felt – no more games, no more playing it cool – it was only a matter of time before he called off the pathetic and stupid wedding to the pathetic and stupid Natasha, and flung himself into her open arms. She’d hoped it was him knocking at her door. But he patently hadn’t talked to Tash yet and, in light of last night’s conversation, even Jayne’s extreme confidence in the power of her love was trembling a little. It took every ounce of Jayne’s steely self-control to steer her mind away from the specific comments Rich had made. He couldn’t have meant that they ‘weren’t anything at all’, and when he called her ‘crazy’ he must have meant in an attractive, kooky sort of way, mustn’t he? She would not think about it. He did not mean to be offensive. He was taken aback, that was all. Once he had time to think about her declaration, he’d find the courage to end the farce with Tash and be with her. She knew he would. He had to.

Because if he didn’t, she would.

He had said he thought she needed help. He’d told her not to take his comment the wrong way, but what was the right way? Fury bubbled up inside Jayne’s stomach. She felt it clash and mash with disappointment, humiliation and frustration. She feared that despair might snuff out her hope that they could get it together, her belief that they should get it together.

Jayne had spent most of the night and all morning poring over her treasure box. The contents of which were at this moment spread across her bedroom floor. She momentarily considered asking Tash into her room. She could show her Rich’s notes and recommended reading. She could show her the champagne corks and the tube tickets. That would wipe the smirk off Tash’s frankly gormless face. Jayne dismissed the idea. The box of treasures, although priceless to her, wouldn’t be of much value in terms of evidence of her and Rich’s affair. Tash could explain them away if she wanted to. Jayne needed a more foolproof reveal. Jayne’s face was twisted with concentration, and she hadn’t slept well the night before. She looked terrible. Tash jumped to her own conclusion.

‘You heard about Jason, then?’ guessed Tash.

‘What?’ snapped Jayne. She was finding it hard to stay convivial with this wretched girl.

‘He had someone in his room last night,’ Tash muttered, sympathetically.

‘
Quel surprise
,’ commented Jayne dryly.

Tash squeezed Jayne’s arm. ‘Sorry. You seem upset.’

‘Not about him.’

‘So do you fancy some snow?’ offered Tash. She did not believe Jayne’s denial, but was prepared to pretend she did to protect Jayne’s dignity.

Jayne weighed up the situation. She could stay in her room all day, claiming that she was too tired to board. At least that way Rich would be able to find her if – no, when – he came to tell her he’d chosen her. On the other hand, it never did any harm spending time with Tash. Tash was preposterously trusting and transparent, and was keen to share as though she was a native Californian. Jayne gained great insight into their relationship as a result. She found out where they bought their groceries, where they drank coffee and which position was their sexual preference. Information was power.

‘I don’t want to board, I’m too hung over,’ said Jayne.

‘Well, there are millions of other things to do. We could go scuba diving under ice,’ suggested Tash, who had entirely bought into Jayne’s phony give-it-a-go persona.

Jayne looked horrified.

‘Maybe not with hangovers,’ conceded the genuinely active Tash. ‘How about bowling or ice skating?’ Jayne shook her head. ‘Take a walk. Or shop.’

‘Let’s shop. I’ll dress quickly and see you downstairs in ten.’ Jayne’s face transformed from sulky to radiant in a flash. Tash sighed with relief and agreed. She wandered back down the stairs to wait, unsure whether she’d imagined Jayne’s initially chilly mood.

44. Retail Therapy

Tash and Jayne mooched around the tiny clothes boutiques and souvenir shops. Although there were only a limited number of retail outlets, the girls still managed to find opportunities to flex their plastic – it was almost a matter of principle. Tash picked out a pair of pink, furry Quiksilver snow boots, which were as impractical as they were fun. Jayne bought the same pair in blue. Tash also bought a new pair of yellow, heart-shaped sunglasses and a tacky plastic snow shaker that dispersed shiny scarlet hearts, rather than snow, around a bemused-looking St Bernard dog. Jayne bought two Roxy fleeces and the same snow shaker. They didn’t have a second pair of the glasses, not even in another colour. Jayne made a mental note to buy them once she was back in London. The retail therapy did as it was required to do and cheered both girls. Tash knew Rich would adore her purchases, and she couldn’t wait to show him. Jayne had exactly the same thought.

It didn’t take long to exhaust the small supply of shops, so the girls soon found themselves tucking into crêpes and a carafe of wine.

Tash could see that Jayne was much more relaxed and therefore felt brave enough to ask, ‘Are you disappointed that Jason took someone to his room last night?’

‘That he shagged some slapper?’ asked Jayne, riding roughshod over Tash’s tactful question. ‘Not in the slightest. I expected as much. Men are faithless bastards.’

‘Not all men,’ said Tash. She was thinking of Rich.

‘All men,’ said Jayne, who was also thinking of Rich. ‘Is Mia boarding with Rich this morning?’

‘No, I think she’s having a professional lesson, but it’s supposed to be a secret.’

Tash didn’t think it was an important enough secret to earn her respect or silence. She liked Jayne and didn’t like Mia, so she also thought it was OK that they swapped smirks.

‘Oh, I thought she’d be with Rich again,’ said Jayne.

‘Well, she might be, I suppose. I’m not sure where he is. He left before I woke up.’

‘But he left a note, right?’

‘Rich isn’t good at that sort of thing. He doesn’t think like that.’

‘Like what? Considerately?’ asked Jayne. She pulled her face into an expression which approximated sympathy.

‘He is considerate,’ Tash defended. ‘He just doesn’t think about plans and arrangements.’

‘And consequences,’ added Jayne, raising her eyebrows. ‘Men. They’re all the same.’

Of course, she didn’t believe this for a second. Rich was different to all men. Rich was her hero, her deity. She knew that when Rich was hers, in totality, once and for all, he would always leave notes detailing his plans. In fact, he probably wouldn’t even have any plans that didn’t include Jayne, so there would never be any need for notes, except love ones. It was just politic that Tash believe Rich was the same as other men. Jayne wanted Tash to be mistrusting of Rich. She wanted to fill her with hesitancy and doubt. Jayne needed to rupture Tash’s peace of mind. She wanted Tash to interpret innocent situations incorrectly, to be consumed with jealousy and fury. Iago seemed a laudable role model. Jayne crossed her fingers because it really wasn’t nice to say cruel things about Rich, and pushed on.

‘It’s no big deal. I had my own plans,’ shrugged Tash.

‘Yes, but he didn’t know that, did he? As far as he knows, you might be on your own today.’

‘He wouldn’t have meant to leave me out. He’s a live-for-the-minute type of guy. I love that about him,’ beamed Tash, not showing any sign of the Othello complex that Jayne was hoping to nurture. Jayne refilled Tash’s glass.

‘That devil-may-care attitude is always an attractive attribute in the beginning,’ agreed Jayne.

Tash stared at her crêpe. She was hoping that Rich’s
joie de vivre
would always be attractive, full stop. Jayne could see that her approach was having all the effect of drilling a diamond with a toothpick. She tried another tack.

‘Isn’t it remarkable that Rich and Mia can be just friends? Considering that once upon a time he made love to her and all that involves – smelling her, tasting her, nibbling her nipples, kissing her thighs. Even now, she’s always watching him, laughing with him, chatting with him. I don’t think I could be friends with someone after I’d shared that intimacy.’ Tash took a huge bite of her chocolate crêpe. Suddenly she had an overwhelming urge for something sweet. ‘And, my God, you’re amazing. If it were me, I’d be eaten up with jealousy thinking about that past closeness.’

Tash shifted uncomfortably on her chair. ‘I don’t let myself think about it,’ she said, truthfully.

‘With my ex I was completely consumed by the green-eyed monster.’

Tash was relieved that the focus of the conversation would now move away from her and Rich. She nodded for Jayne to go on.

‘I hated the fact that there had ever been other women in his life. I wanted to be them all.’

Jayne stared at her barely touched crêpe, unwilling to meet Tash’s eyes in case she saw the tears of frustration and self-pity that were welling in her own.

‘I hated them all. I wished none of them had existed, but, as they had, I had this weird, illogical fantasy. I wanted to be every girl he’d ever touched. The one that took his virginity, the college girls, the white ones, the black ones, the holiday flings, the air hostess, the ones he had loved, the stripper he slept with in Amsterdam for a bet. Even the ones he couldn’t remember the names of.’

‘But that’s impossible. What you wanted was impossible,’ said Tash gently.

‘But it was how I felt,’ insisted Jayne.

Tash reached for the carafe of wine and was surprised to find it empty. How had they drunk it that quickly? She ordered another. Jayne could do with another drink. Hell, she could do with another drink.

‘It’s such a waste of emotional energy being jealous of someone’s past. I don’t want to be part of Rich’s past – it’s far more important being his future,’ said Tash. ‘And the fact is everyone has a past.’

‘My jealousy wasn’t misguided, you know,’ spat Jayne angrily, incensed by Tash’s clearly patronizing comment. ‘He was seeing some bimbo on the side, and eventually he –’

‘Chose her?’ asked Tash.

Jayne glared, ‘No, he didn’t choose her. She forced him to leave me.’ Jayne’s breathing was fast and shallow. Clearly she was still deeply moved by her ex. Tash reached out and patted her hand. Jayne snatched it away. ‘You have no idea,’ she snarled, then added, ‘Has Rich always been faithful to his girlfriends in the past?’

Tash was annoyed with herself for blushing. ‘Er, not absolutely.’

‘I think it’s a yes-or-no issue. Not a grey area. Either he has been faithful or he hasn’t,’ Jayne insisted.

‘He hasn’t been in the type of relationship where it was an issue. His affairs of the loins have always been casual,’ Tash explained.

‘Always?’

‘Well, he has had two or three girlfriends that have lasted six months or so.’

‘Was he faithful to them?’

Tash chose not to reply because she didn’t like the answer. Instead she said, ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Just because so few men are monogamists, and Rich doesn’t appear to be that way inclined and I wondered how important fidelity was to the pair of you.’

‘Paramount,’ said Tash hotly. ‘The difference is Rich has never promised fidelity in the past, but now he wants to be exclusive. We both feel that, very strongly.’

‘And his past behaviour doesn’t worry you?’

‘Rich may not have always behaved entirely honourably, but as I was the one who insisted that we talk about our old flames it would be crazy to distrust his future intentions because he was honest with me about his past actions. I insisted that we had no secrets at all. Our entire relationship is, and always will be, based on trust.’

‘Oh,’ Jayne nodded.

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. This stupid girl had no idea. ‘I just wondered if you were going to go for one of these open marriages. I mean, you are so cool with the fact that he’s shagged Mia, and you have that 100 per cent honesty thing. I wondered if you were the sort of couple that didn’t mind what you each did, as long as you swapped stories.’

Tash felt grubby. She had always been so proud of her 100 per cent respect and honesty policy. It was so simple, so full of morality and good intention. The way Jayne had interpreted it was grimy. Tash scrambled in her pockets for her purse. She pulled out a bunch of notes and threw them on the table.

‘I think I need a lie-down. I’ve a headache. It must be the glare off the snow.’

‘Or the hangover coming for its second round of attack,’ smiled Jayne.

Tash nodded, and stood up, ‘That should cover my half.’

‘Oh, yes, more than,’ agreed Jayne, as she counted up Tash’s money. ‘Go and have a lie-down before dinner. You do look pale. I’ll settle up here.’ Jayne beamed.

Tash shook her head. It must be the hangover. She wasn’t seeing things clearly. A second ago she thought she’d seen malice in Jayne’s eyes, but that couldn’t be right. Jayne was her friend. A friend that was clearly a little weary and battle scarred, but… Tash didn’t try to complete the thought. Jayne’s situation was nothing to do with her own happy one. She must not let the things sad and cynical Jayne said spoil anything at all. Tash stumbled back to the hotel and waited for Rich.