The Chocolate Run (46 page)

‘It was like that with my mum – whenever she got a new bloke she lost interest in me. I’d be lucky if I saw her most weekends. It’d always been all right with you before. Even when you were with Sean you put me first. I had all this unconditional love from you that I’d never had in my life. When you and Greg started being close mates you transferred a lot of your attention and affection to him. You two were always doing things together, things I couldn’t, like going to lunch, going out at night during the week. You obviously cared for him and I didn’t like it. I
hated
it.

‘That night in the hotel I panicked. When you said you were moving in together I knew that’d be it. We’d never get our friendship back to how it was, and you’d put him first. I couldn’t let that happen. I was so jealous and angry, I just panicked. You weren’t meant to hear. Not like that. Not ever. I’m sorry.’

Something that’s niggled at my mind for years occurs to me. ‘Did you say something to Sean about me and Greg?’

Jen bites her lip, stares at me with big sorrowful eyes. ‘I, erm, might have mentioned Greg’s reputation for sleeping around.’

‘What else?’

Jen lowers her head. ‘And, erm, that Greg had told Matt that he’d sleep with you given half the chance.’ Jen adds quickly: ‘It was true! Greg did say that. But it was a choice between me, you and their sixth form tutor. Sean didn’t know that part.’

‘You basically tried to sabotage any relationship that seemed more important to me than you, including the one I have with my brother.’

‘Yes. I’m so, so sorry.’

You’re unbelievable, that’s what you are
. I turn back to the chocolate.

‘It’s all such a mess,’ Jen says to my silence.

‘No it’s not. My life’s pretty sorted. So’s yours by the sound of it, got the man you love, getting married next year. Greg said you were trying for a baby. You and Matt have got Greg back as a friend, so it’s not a mess. Let’s keep a sense of proportion.’

‘Every time we see Greg all he does is talk about you – partly because you’re his favourite topic of conversation, but mainly because I keep pumping him for information on you. He’s my hotline to you.’

‘Poor bloke, I do the same to him about you. And every time I do, I can tell he’s wondering why I don’t just speak to you  . . .’
No, do not weaken. Remember what she did. How much she hurt you
. ‘I’ve got to go.’ I put down the chocolate. ‘I don’t think any of them deserve these after they so wantonly set me up.’

Her face struggles not to collapse in disappointment as I head for the door.

And then, something else inside me speaks. Reminds me that I was no victim in this. When you don’t speak up for yourself, how do you expect people to know how to treat you? It was not speaking up that got me into this.

If I’d had the courage to tell Jen that our friendship meant everything to me and that nobody would change that, maybe things wouldn’t have gone the way they did. When I was in runner mode, I didn’t tell anyone how much I cared. It’d happened with Greg too – he’d been so unsure of my feelings he’d had to demand a commitment from me. It was the same with Mum not knowing, not understanding, that things were different with Greg because she’d never been given the chance to meet other boyfriends. Once I started opening up, stopped running and started giving myself the opportunity to feel and hurt, life got better. Fuller, rounder, coloured in. I should have opened up to Jen a long time ago. Should’ve stopped running and talked to her before it came to this.

I turn back to her. ‘Jen.’

She looks up, her topaz-blue eyes a mess of burgeoning tears.

‘Do you want to meet our kids?’

‘Your kids?’ Her voice is wobbly, about to collapse into tears.

‘Me and Greg have adopted so many fish over the past few months we’ll probably have to move to a bigger place so they can have their own room.’

‘I didn’t know you liked fish.’

‘There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know. And there’s a lot I don’t know about you.’ My eyes meet her eyes. ‘But we can find out.’

We can find out if there was ever anything real between us. We can find out if we had any friendship at all, or if we only stuck together out of habit – a bad habit that we might have to give up. Whatever we find out, things can’t go back to how they were before, can’t return to ‘normal’. Everything’s changed. We’ve changed.

‘So, do you want to meet them?’ I ask.

‘I’d love to.’

‘Come on then. It’s their dinnertime soon. Bartleby and Loki eat loads, but Captain Picard’s a bit funny about eating. Mark Twain’s my favourite, but don’t tell Greg that, he’s always going on about me loving them all the same or some such hippy nonsense.’

We have to find a new normal. That won’t be so bad. Not as long as we’ve got chocolate.

The Chocolate Run,
v. & n.
Colloq
. v. 1. The act of going out to purchase chocolate. v. 2. Moving with quick steps on alternate feet while in possession of chocolate. n. 3. The life of a person who thinks in chocolate and spends her life avoiding intimacy. n. 4. The emotional gauntlet we all go through at some point in our lives, eased by the consumption of chocolate.