The Way It Never Was (16 page)

Stan looks at me and appears to be thinking hard. ‘No of course not! I was just trying to be funny,’ he explains, looking a bit red in the face. ‘You know you’re anything but that.’

I’m genuinely touched, but finding this sudden seriousness at little bit strange and out of keeping with his normal banter. ‘I don’t need reassurance about my career, seriously. Things are looking up.’ I’m about to tell Stan about the Globe but then I think better of it. I’ll save it for another time.

‘What’s up with you anyhow?’ I ask, studying a lipstick mark on the wine glass that is certainly not mine. ‘You know, all this ringing and texting. Is everything okay with you and Anna?’ I then playfully dig him in his ribs. ‘Is she making you watch the play every day huh? Do you need counselling?’

Stan stops looking so serious and smiles. ‘No, everything is okay. It’s just that Dan sent me pictures of that Westerner 4 holiday and it got me thinking, I’ve never been entirely straight with you. We need to clear some stuff up.’
Not
that
holiday
again
.

‘Stan, it was both of our faults thinking good friends could just go on holiday together. If it ain’t broke ‘n all that.’ I wish Stan would just drop it. ‘Move on,’ I say. ‘Seriously, I really don’t want to dwell on it. What is there to discuss? We went on holiday and fell out and then it took us a while to get back normal. Leave it alone.’

With impeccable timing, Liv then waddles through the double doors and heaves herself onto a stool. ‘What did I miss?’ she asks, stroking her tummy.

‘Oh nothing, we’re just talking about old times.’ Stan mutters into his beer.
Old
times
?
It
wasn’t
that
long
ago
Stan
.

As the applause starts up, to my horror I realise that we’ve been sat here for the duration of the entire play.

‘Stan, tell me the storyline quick!’ I grab the shiny A5 leaflet and study the play’s synopsis as the foyer starts filling up. ‘This is a little wordy. Give me the general gist.’

‘Halle-fucking-lujah, it’s over,’ sighs Liv loudly, putting on her coat. ‘Best performance I’ve ever not seen. I might do this again.’

Just then, Hugo walks out with Anna who is looking a bit odd, wearing what appears to be a swimming cap on her head.

‘There you all are!’ her father beams. ‘We were just telling Anna what a great job she did didn’t she?’

He looks at us pointedly and we all make the appropriate noises of enthusiasm.

‘Those two lines at the end changed the course of the entire story hey?’ Anna proudly announces.
They
did
?
What
two
lines
? Thankfully, we seemed to have got away with it and she is oblivious to our ignorance. ‘What a twist hey! I certainly packed a punch didn’t I?’ she says, putting her arms around Stan’s waist, prompting Liv, who she has her back to, sticking her tongue out at her. ‘So, I blew you away huh?’ The way Anna looks at me it makes me think that she has no desire for any other opinion but that one.

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ quips Liv, before wandering off again. ‘Excuse me everyone. I have to go to the loo. Again. Lady with a baby.’

Without looking at me, Stan, who’s been quiet up until now, gives his girlfriend a hug. ‘You were
amazing
.’

CHAPTER 19 -
BLOW THEM OUT

As I help myself to some crisps from the cupboard I’m being eyeballed by Claire, resplendent in full workout gear, with her hair tied back so tightly she’s rocking the Croydon facelift look.

‘Why is your brother coming tonight?’ she moans, banging her water filter down.

Shaking my head, I get out some wine glasses from the cupboard. ‘It’s my birthday Claire.’

Rolling her eyes as though I’m being highly unreasonable, she takes what looks like a rolled up piece of turf out from the oven. A vegan roulade that looks dry enough to insulate my loft. ‘Mmm,’ she sniffs. ‘Doesn’t it smell wonderful? Zero calories you know.’

Despite various ‘allergies’ – and of course, her own brand of vegetarianism that still allows her to eat ham – Claire insists on treating this like any old night and hogging the entire kitchen to make a meal for Scary Linda and Dave, leaving me with little choice but to cook a one-pot wonder.

With my head in the oven attempting to put foil over a boiling dish, I’m hoping that Linda or that boyfriend of hers will move their freeloading arses off the sofa and find out who has rung the doorbell. No such luck. After the third ring, I march down the hallway muttering obscenities to myself and answer the door. Looking a little rough, with designer stubble and a jacket that has seen cleaner days, Dan stands there with his arm outstretched holding a bottle.

‘Happy Birthday sis!’ He leans in and hugs me, hitting me with a stench of something not too pleasant.

‘Dan, you look like George Michael in the ‘Faith’ video,’ I groan, pushing him away.

‘You mock, but I have you know this jacket has seen a lot of action. It’s my lucky jacket.’ The last time I heard that phrase was when Sienna’s Pete was reacting to his ‘lucky jacket’ getting stuck in my guttering. Dan then looks me up and down. ‘Nice apron birthday girl! You’re going all out tonight aren’t you?’ I give him one of my looks before going to check on dinner.

Dan disappears into the lounge and says hello to the others, only to walk straight back into the kitchen. ‘Who are the muppets on the sofa? I thought Liv was going to be here?’ he says, taking the champagne as though to open it.

‘She’s coming,’ I reply. ‘You’re still in the doghouse you know. You had better be charming this time.’ Dan just looks at me and does a sarcastic grin.

Getting the wine out of the freezer where it has been emergency chilling, I pour some out for Dan who declines and waves his bottle at me. ‘Please drink my champagne. It’s your birthday. Let’s get drunk in style.’

My arm doesn’t need twisting twice, so the wine gets poured down the sink and I get out two champagne flutes that are so rarely used, they are covered in a layer of dust. Dan pops open his champagne. Knocking a glass back, he sits down at the kitchen table and does a large burp.

‘Katie, I won’t beat around the bush. I’m experiencing a drought on the woman front. So far this financial quarter, not even a snog – yup, not even one with the homely blind date the other week.’ I look at my handsome and wealthy brother and feel reassured that all is not as it seems sometimes, even for him. ‘I mean, I’m not as emotionally screwed up as you,’ he quickly adds. ‘But still, it’s not good.’

Knocking my champagne back so quickly, I snort as I feel the bubbles go up my nose. ‘Maybe you’re a little bored of the same old same old.’ I say, closing the oven door. ‘I mean, surely after a while, every nasal-voiced bimbo merges into one? You could shake it up a little. Ring in the changes.’

Dan’s not always been this way. In fact, before he became a successful banker doing whatever it is he does, he was the aimless one in the family. He didn’t particularly work at school and was always hanging about by the beach huts with the in crowd, smoking and doing God knows what else in the bus shelter. He then went to college but dropped out several times over, course after course after course. Not that he was ever that bothered about not knowing what he wanted to do, nor were my parents for that matter. My sister Harriet had done the family PR for everyone, having just graduated from Oxford so they were busy dining out on that. I also had miraculously pulled it out the bag for my A-levels – a feat not that impossible given that if you weren’t hanging out with Claire and her gang in this town, there wasn’t a great deal else to do.

Dan then went abroad, but instead of coming home like I did, he stayed out there for years, working as a tour guide in North America. Whilst it was a hobo kind of life, the fact you got your ego massaged daily by a load of European girls with no sense of direction, was worth its weight in gold. Dan was always fairly predictable, the type to walk the grandma round the church at a wedding, only to shag the bridesmaid at the back of the marquee an hour later. Not that I judged him: In fact, I rather liked having a popular ever-so-slightly slutty older brother as it reflected quite well on my street cred and prevented me from falling completely into the dork category.

Over the years that Dan was in America, we saw him so sporadically that we could never predict his mood. One time, he’d be happy and carefree, the next, reserved and a bit coy. Then one day he came home to visit, smelling of something resembling cologne. ‘I think I’ve met
the
one
Kate,’ he said. Barely a month later, I then greeted a freshly dumped and rather smelly Dan in the arrivals hall. I was shocked at how unkempt he looked, like he’d been living in the Alaskan wilderness without a mirror to hand. ‘She didn’t feel the same,’ was all that he said through his beard.

That day in the airport was the last time I saw Dan crying over a girl. After that, he went back to doing what he did best, only this time he channelled that confidence of his into a banking career, adopting a ballsy approach that was so suited to the environment that he climbed through the ranks within a very short space of time.

‘Anyhow, who’s the girl on the couch groping the grumpy guy?’ Dan asks conversationally, as though we are alone and not within hearing shot of the subject matters.

Telling him crossly to ‘shhh’, I prod him. ‘You know, Linda. Claire’s best friend, we were all at school together remember?’

Dan nods in recognition. ‘And the grumpy friend?’ he asks.

‘
Boyfriend
,’ I hiss, correcting him, strangely indignant on Linda’s behalf as she’s worked so hard to get one.

‘What a catch,’ Dan says. ‘And he drinks shandy. My kind of man.’

‘Do not fear,’ I start chopping vegetables. ‘Liv and Wayne are joining us too, we’ll soon outnumber them.’

Claire suddenly appears from behind Dan at the kitchen door. ‘I heard that. You didn’t tell me Wayne was coming.’ I slam the chopping board down in irritation. ‘Look Claire, it’s my birthday and I don’t have to. Knock it off!’

‘Sorry,’ mumbles Claire, somewhat begrudgingly.

‘That’s okay,’ I say as graciously as possible and go to answer it, leaving Dan and Claire glaring at each other. In walks Liv with her trusted sidekick – the yoga ball. ‘Sorry I’m late. I brought pudding though. Sam knocked you up a treat!’ She then shows me a very elaborate chocolate cake with my name iced on top and I clap my hands in delight. ‘Look I know, your name isn’t spelt with a ‘C’ in it but Sam did try,’ says Liv. I’m so touched that I’m actually starting to feel excitement kick in for the first time today.

Birthday mode has been a little delayed, thanks to an awkward lunch with Anna who refused to mark the occasion until right at the end, where on us splitting the bill she produced a flimsy card. ‘My boyfriend was the one who reminded me,’ she smiled before chucking it onto the table. This struck me as odd as I had texted her to say I was having celebrations at mine, which had then been met with complete silence. ‘Sorry I was distracted. It’s our year anniversary you know!’
Err
,
yes
,
that’s
‘cause
you
got
together
on
my
birthday
. ‘I’m planning a special meal for him tonight,’ she said grinning excitedly. ‘He’s coming up to London’.

And there it was again – this overwhelming urge to just stomp off and leave her to it. I couldn’t work out whether it was now tolerance on my part or that feeling of nostalgia that kept our friendship going but whatever it was, it was now being questioned on a regular basis. In times gone by, Anna and I have had so much fun together, sharing those in-jokes that only we got, spontaneous cinema trips to see bad films, or staying up all night at strange house parties we’d not been invited to – those evenings when you have too much wine and say that you’ll be best friends forever. I don’t think I’m imagining it anymore as something has definitely changed. Now we’re no longer carefree in London and she’s dating Stan, it’s as if she’s not totally on my side anymore. While she’s as entertaining as she ever was, there’s now unsubtle impatience, increasing more put downs and a constant one-upmanship. This undercurrent of unease is always there if I choose to tune into it, but I am desperately trying not to. For the sake of everything that’s gone before and her relationship with Stan, I must stay the course.

Liv now politely greets Dan with a kiss on both cheeks and allows him to push aside a chair so she can put her yoga ball down. ‘It’s the only way I can sit in comfort,’ she sighs, rotating her hips, which has this hypnotising effect on Dan, who is now looking her up and down with an expression that possibly borders on lustful.

‘It’s okay Dan, you don’t have to stare at me like you want to eat me for dinner,’ she grins, stroking her belly. ‘I have a rather large baby pressing on my bladder and I wouldn’t make a tasty meal I assure you.’

The doorbell rings again and this time Claire quickly puts her head round the door and announces that she will get it, having poured herself into a strapless mini dress.

‘Why’s Claire now looking like a hooker?’ Dan says, whistling under his breath, to which Liv laughs and looks at him with a glint in her eye.

‘Wayne fancied Claire at school,’ I say, glancing over at Liv who is still busy looking at Dan. ‘Anyhow, now she’s divorced from Mr Happy, she’s discovered that he’s not so bad.’

Swaying on the ball, Liv looks thoughtful for a moment. ‘Just goes to show it only takes a minute and everything can change,’ she says. ‘Look at me!’ she points to her belly.

Moments later, Wayne appears at the door. ‘Happy Birthday!’ he says loudly, doing some stupid handshake with Dan, before leaning into me and whispering. ‘You have to help me. Claire is being full on. I mean, seriously full on. I’m starting to regret hand delivering that job offer letter.’
Yes
,
Wayne
,
I’m
regretting
having
received
it
too
.

A little while later, Liv, Dan, Wayne and myself are now seated at the table, while Claire, Linda and Dave are sitting on my sofa with trays on their laps. There are now two distinct camps – one, sawing their way through earnest looking roulade, the other, about to tuck into a stodgy beef stew with horseradish dumplings. Wayne is constantly looking across at Claire who is sitting provocatively on the couch, her boobs showcased like they’re in a window display. Talking loudly, Scary Linda keeps anxiously glancing over at Dave who in turn is wistfully looking over at us.

Now, there is nothing I hate more in the world than people who pretend to be on diets but then scrounge what you’re eating, but despite myself, upon seeing their forlorn faces, I can’t bear it anymore. I have a sudden change of heart. ‘Got loads. You’re very welcome to join,’ I say. ‘It is my birthday after all.’

Dan then stands up to serve out my culinary efforts and pauses to wave the spoon in the air. ‘Granted, it looks like shit, but I’m sure it tastes
amazing
,’ he declares, plonking out portions as though he were swatting a fly.

Without giving it another thought, Dave bounds over to our table. ‘I’ll take you up on that offer of food Kate. No offence Claire, but I can’t eat that. Life’s too short.’

Linda gasps at Dave’s no-nonsense approach and anxiously looks over at Claire, while the rest of us just stare at him in admiration. Despite the risk of incurring her best friend’s wrath, Linda too pulls up a chair to join her boyfriend, leaving Claire holding her plate of rejected roulade on her own.

As we all start tucking in and chatting, she gives up the fight. ‘Could I?’ she asks, coming over and eyeing up the stew hungrily.

‘We thought you would never ask,’ says Liv, exchanging looks with Dan as though they’ve just discussed her at great length.

Given the seat shortage, Claire chooses to share half a one with Linda, making for a very cosy table indeed – especially for Wayne who is now so close to her he might as well eat his stew from her own ‘dumplings’ on display.

‘Jesus, Claire,’ Liv waves a fork at her. ‘Could you at least put your
tits
away while we eat. All that flesh is putting me off my food, babe.’ Claire goes bright red and pulls up her top, only for Liv to then bang her utensils down dramatically. ‘I can’t take it anymore. This baby wants to come out. It is so low, I swear his head is already nestled in my vagina.’

As the rest of us now slowly chew our food conjuring up all sorts of gross images, Dan squeezes her arm where his hand then stays.