The Way It Never Was (17 page)
Read The Way It Never Was Online
Authors: Lucy Austin
Liv appears not to have noticed and turns to Dan smiling. ‘Dan, judging on your downstairs toilet, you’ve sure done some stuff huh?’ For some unfathomable reason they are now thick as thieves. ‘I saw some of your photos when we stayed at yours after Anna’s
incredible
play. You’ve been like everywhere!’
For a minute, I wonder if Dan is going to bore my straight talking friend with tales of travels, but thankfully, he has a sense of occasion. Like me, he has a collage of photos and memorabilia, but while mine capture the bad and the ugly too (or else, I’d have none to put up), his entire collection has been sent through quality control. Every vetted photo has either him looking tanned or buff either in front of one of the seven wonders, or with beautiful people.
That night after the theatre, a bleary eyed Liv just stood in Dan’s flat, taking in all the photos. ‘Your brother is really handsome,’ she said, whistling under her breath. ‘Shame he’s so fucking arrogant though. What a waste.’ I was about to say something in his defence when I then spotted a recent addition to the collection – a very large picture of Stan and I standing in front of the Grand Canyon on
that
holiday
. ‘You guys look so good in that photo,’ Liv said, moving in closer to study it. ‘Stan’s wasted on Anna I tell you.’ At that precise moment, I begged to differ. Having witnessed his sycophantic behaviour at the theatre, I was starting to think that they might make the perfect pair after all.
‘Stan’s a good friend but I want lightening and fireworks,’ I said as Liv just carried on studying the photos.
‘You do know that stuff means nothing?’ she said quietly. ‘Seriously, look where lightening and fireworks got me.’
Back to the present moment, the evening is in full swing with the room full of happy chatter. Liv is now properly drunk on her single glass of wine the lightweight she is, the guard is fully down. All eyes are on Dan who seems unable to tear himself away from looking at her.
‘You know what Daniel. I have decided I like you,’ Liv loudly whispers as though no one can hear her. ‘I thought you were such an arrogant pretty boy when I met you last year. I take it all back.’ We all grind to a halt with what we are doing. Wayne and Claire look up from chatting, Scary Linda stops trying to wipe lipstick off Dave and I put down my cake with all its candles waiting to be lit and glance over at Dan, who looks for want of a better word, enchanted by my pregnant friend. ‘I gotta tell you though, you do have a ridiculous bed for such a swanky London pad. A futon! Who the fuck sleeps on a futon anymore!’ There she goes again, squeezing his knee.
‘You slept in my bed did you?’ Dan glances at her, looking a bit flushed. ‘I’ll remember that when I’m back there tomorrow,’ he says quietly, delivering a line that on a normal day would sound pretty sleazy but for some reason tonight, sounds almost romantic.
Okay, I’m not sure of where Dan’s head is, making moves on a heavily pregnant woman, but I know Liv too well – that body language is ignoring the twinges and the need for the loo every five, she’s having a good flirt. This encounter is doing wonders for her self-esteem.
‘You should have asked Liv to your work party next week,’ I say yawning and Liv laughs.
‘Now let me see, going to a dance with a woman the size of a whale. Yeah, that’ll make for a hot date. Tempting.’
Dan just shrugs. ‘Yup, you’d make one large but extremely hot date.’
Just as I’m about to hand out fans to one and all to cool down the atmosphere, the doorbell goes again and Claire and Wayne quickly get up to answer it. I’m forced to take matters into my own hands and light my own candles, a rather slow endeavour given that Sam has put one in for every year.
As the lights go out and everyone starts singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me really loudly, out of the gloom appears Stan, my loveliest friend in the whole universe, carrying a bunch of flowers. Why Anna hasn’t come too, I’m not bothering to ask.
The night Liv encountered my brother for the first time was the same night that Anna clapped eyes on Stan – exactly a year ago. It was my birthday and I had invited a random bunch of people out for Friday night dinner in London. It was a real mish-mash, as in I truly didn’t care who pitched up, mainly because I couldn’t remember who I invited in the heat of the moment. Thanks to temping, my CV was getting longer by the day and with that, I was accruing new friends at a rather fast rate. Whether or not they would put me out if I were on fire, I really didn’t care to find out. All that mattered was that I had bums on seats and felt like a sassy single girl in the Big Smoke. Along with work colleagues and the usual suspects like Liv, Dan, Anna and Stan, Claire and Scary Linda had invited themselves along too.
After a meal with ridiculously small portions and too many large glasses of wine, it was that horrible time of the night when the bill needed to be paid. Claire was in her small town element, whipping out a solar powered calculator from her cleavage to work out exactly how much we all ate and drank. This took some time, as there were those like Linda who despite bringing her blind date Tony along for the ride, forwent best behaviour in preference for arguing the toss over whether she’d had one glass of wine or two. As she went round the table getting money, Claire was being obnoxiously loud and wearing my birthday badge to command everyone’s attention. Dan was at the other end of the table, talking at Liv while blatantly looking over her shoulder every five to eye up the waitress. At the time I remember thinking Anna and Stan seemed quite cosy, but thought nothing on it as over pre-dinner drinks, Stan and I had been discussing the disastrous holiday we’d just come back from.
‘I’m so sorry Kate,’ Stan said, handing me a glass of wine. ‘You’re one of my best friends.’
I gave him a hearty punch on the arm. ‘Look it’s my birthday,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Forget Big Sur. Here’s to friendship.’
Stan was just about to say something in response when Anna walked over and put her arm through his. ‘Guess who said Happy Birthday to you,’ she said, winking at me. ‘A blast from the past! Three letters!’
I was completely shocked, not only that Joe was lazily wishing me well via our social network but also that Anna must have known how this news would impact me on my birthday. Perhaps, I was being a little oversensitive, but it just seemed for want of a better word, unkind. ‘I need another glass of wine!’ Anna then shouted and pottered off.
‘Did what I just think happen happened?’ I asked Stan, as the mere mention of Joe was sending me into a downhill spiral.
Stan just gave me this odd look. ‘Take no notice Kate. Don’t think about that bloke tonight of all nights.’
By the time we got out of the restaurant and moved onto the pub on the corner that was doing a karaoke night, I had decided to get properly drunk, to take my mind off Anna’s loaded announcement. Knocking back the wine like it was water, I had also stolen back my birthday badge from Claire, which was now creating a hole in my top. Did I care? No, I was too busy in a karaoke trance, writing down all my favourite songs, only to get the ‘birthday girl’ green light to sing them straight away – a little unnerving all things considered. So, with Joe heavily on my mind, I murdered ‘What Doesn’t Kill you Makes you Stronger’, ‘Nothing Compares to You’, and shot to death ‘Patience,’ before finally sparing everyone and getting off the stage. Yes, even in my inebriated state, there was no way I was going to be singing a group rendition of ‘Let It Be’ – I had standards.
As I passed Scary Linda tottering onto the stage, Liv pulled me aside. ‘Word of warning: Besides listening to your brother bang on about how great he is all evening, I’ve also had the pleasure of Anna’s company. Let’s just say her love tank is empty and she wants it filled up.’
A little while later, the lady in question came over to the table I was sat on and plonked her wine down, dispersing cashew nuts and olive pips all over the floor. ‘Well, I’ve had an aha moment!’ she shouted, our voices being drowned out by Scary Linda’s ambitious version of ‘I Want That Man’ directed at Tony, who looked positively petrified.
‘What’s that then?’ I asked, closely studying Anna’s face. ‘Now I think about it, you do seem a little, I don’t know…dishevelled. If I didn’t know you any better, I say you were distracted by something or someone.’
Anna checked her profile in the window and nodded. ‘Well, in answer to your questions, yes and yes!’
The wine is having an adverse effect on my brain, as I’m not only confused, I’m busy working out what I asked her. ‘You’re being obtuse Anna – I know, a big word for me. Just tell me okay. What’s going on?’ I say as some tone-deaf girl, sticking a finger in her ear wails like an injured fox, with everyone standing there looking up at the stage in alarm.
‘It’s no big deal really but I’ve decided I like your friend Stan,’ said Anna casually and I felt the colour drain from my face. ‘He’s so nice Kate! Not had a chance to get to know him before as you’re normally hovering!’
I wasn’t sure what to say but I knew immediately how I felt. ‘Listen,’ I said. ‘Before you decide you’ll have him, Stan’s my oldest friend. You can’t just pick him up and then drop him when you get bored.’
I knew I was in a dangerous territory as we had never had a conversation like this before, but I felt more possessive than I cared to admit. The very idea of Anna going there made me feel sick.
Leaning close enough forward that I could see she’d missed a bit of her cupids bow with her lipstick, Anna patted my arm. ‘I don’t want to be rude Kate, but you do know that you and Stan are only friends because you’ve known each other a long time.’
‘Did you really just say that?’ I said angrily. ‘You have no right at all.’ Just like she had no right to talk about Joe tonight of all nights! She knew it would make me sad. Of course, I was used to seeing Stan with girlfriends, but did the latest one really have to be her? She’d never before expressed any interest in him, so why now, when all she ever seem to want was proper bodice-ripped passion with an arrogant man, not a nice, unassuming one like Stan.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just telling you for your own good. We’ve always been honest right?’ she said and I just stood there for a minute wondering if she was doing a bit of reverse psychology on me. Perhaps, she was right, perhaps I was being selfish and was just scared I’d lose my surrogate boyfriend.
‘You’re sounding like such a bitch Anna,’ said Liv, who had been listening to the whole exchange. ‘You know how much Stan means to Kate. Why don’t you just back off!’
Anna pointed her finger at Liv. ‘There you go again, butting into my business, just like you did in Australia. Like I said back then, go get a life. Sod off!’
Forcing myself between them for fear that peanuts were going to be shoved up noses, I found myself coming to Liv’s defence. ‘That’s out of order Anna. Don’t speak to her like that!’ I say, wondering what Anna meant by referring to ‘the last time’?
Liv looked at Anna for a good few seconds. ‘I’m not lowering myself to your level. I want to slap your smug face but I won’t,’ she declared, giving me a big hug. ‘Birthday girl, I’m tired, I have an early start at the café tomorrow. I’ve got a last train to get,’ she said and then politely air kissed Dan who was now standing next to us looking like a nodding dog trying not to fall asleep.
‘I’ll escort you to the station,’ he said to her.
‘Not a chance in hell,’ came the response.
As we watched Liv leave the pub, Anna turned to me. ‘Kate. I know what you’re thinking, but seriously, it’ll be different with Stan. I’ll behave!’ She then looked earnestly at me for a second. ‘How do you do it?’
‘Do what?’ I said, not entirely liking where this was going.
‘Do this single thing. You’ve always been so good at it!’
And just as I was about to blurt out what I really thought, she then banged her hand on her heart.
‘I can’t do it! I hate being my own. I’m naturally meant to be in a pair,’ she moaned, sounding straight out of a wildlife documentary.
‘Listen,’ I said, feeling myself going a little red in the face. ‘I would like to meet someone but I can’t just settle for anyone.’
Then she laughed as though as though I’d said something truly ridiculous. ‘Bless your heart. I cannot believe you’re
still
hung up on Joe. It’s a bit sad isn’t it? It wasn’t much of a relationship either. I think you just use him as an excuse for not getting out there.’ There it was again, that bloody phrase ‘getting out there’, striking fear into the heart of singletons everywhere. Anna then put her arms around my shoulders. ‘You’re one of my best friends but I mean what I say. If you had a more interesting love life instead of moping around after men who aren’t interested, you would be a lot happier.’
Just before I could come back with anything by way of an appropriate response, Anna adjusted her low cut top and headed straight for Stan. She then resumed coy and giggly mode, saying something in his ear while he looked straight at me.
By now, Scary Linda was on her third Bryan Adams song of the night. Halfway through ‘Run to You’ I spied her date look around him, slowly get up and then scarper. I knew how he felt.
Coming out of the station, I walk towards the Tube, regularly stopping to pull on my hold ups. Far from being sexy, they’re threatening to plummet down my legs, not helpful when you are already tottering awkwardly in really high stilettos that are making your tired feet ache from having been on your feet all day. The Victoria line is packed with people on their way to celebrate Friday night, which effectively means having to stand amongst strangers who talk over me, covering me with their spittle. I don’t dare to hold onto any handles, for fear of catching something other than common flu so I lean my full body weight on the surrounding people: As the tube sways so do I. My hold ups finally give up the ghost and fall down my leg with all the grace of a bird being shot out of the sky, pulling out every hair on my leg with them.
Three ridiculously long texts arrived from Anna while I was on the underground, and are now burning a hole in my pocket. Bad news for her, good news for the paying public,
Touch
Me
I’m
Real
is being pulled due to lack of support. Wayne has also texted me (a sure sign he is angry as he doesn’t do text speak) annoyed that I decided to turn down the travel job. I told him straight – well, I triumphantly found that I could leave a message when it clicked onto answer machine. If I’m to move forward in a new direction, I can’t do it. It would simply play out like all the others and I would let him down. For now working at the Globe makes sense.
I seriously doubt whether I’m going to have a good time this evening, because apart from Dan, I won’t know anyone at all. Going on experience of old, he will just leave me to get on with it alone. Despite my reticence, the thought of the unknown is exciting, as is the chance to feel all dressed up in a spanking new dress.
Relations between Paolo and myself are slowly thawing, in part due to my improved performance unloading the dishwasher. On route to the train station, I popped my head round the café in all my finery and asked them what they thought. I didn’t really need their opinion but for some reason I wanted to seek their approval. My hair had been blow-dried to perfection by Claire who was still smarting at being turned down for hair feathers. My dress was navy blue with a fit and flare style, synched in at the waist and falling just below my knees. My lip-gloss was still intact.
After a good minute of chewing her flapjack looking thoughtful and making me do a few turns, Paula pursed her lips and nodded. ‘You look pretty,’ she conceded, to which her husband expanded on the point.
‘It’s true. You look okay,’ he said. ‘Better than you normally do.’
Given that I normally looked like a walking artists palette with crap all over my Globe T-shirt I wasn’t sure if this was much of a compliment. Just as I was headed out of the café to get my train, who should turn up but Stan, who happened to be down in Broadstairs seeing his parents.
On seeing me, he took a sharp intake of breath. ‘Looking nice Katie Kate,’ he said, making me blush.
‘Is everything okay?’ I said, looking at my watch. ‘I’m going to be late for my train if I don’t hurry. You okay walking me to the station? Small steps mind.’ I had forgotten that it’s all very well looking the business, but wearing high heels on an occasional basis seriously impedes walking speed.
‘Who’s the lucky man then?’ Stan put my arm through his so I could lean into him and quicken up the pace.
‘Only Dan, he needs a plus-one for his work party,’ I replied. ‘It’s not exactly a hot date.’
Stan then pressed the button at the traffic lights a few times. ‘I thought your brother had the choice of all the ladies.’
I pressed the button again impatiently. ‘Well, I got the impression at my birthday dinner that he’s getting bored of it. You never know.’ Stan opened the door of the ticket office for me. ‘Then again, pigs might fly.’
Standing on the station platform with me, Stan was blowing into his hands trying to warm them up so I instinctively took hold of them.
‘Perhaps Dan’s just got to find the right person,’ he suggested. For someone who’s apparently on the verge of proposing to his
amazing
girlfriend, he sounded so flat. And as much I wanted to ask the potentially loaded question, there was no time, so I let go of his hands and gave him a big hug, by way of compensating for being rubbish.
‘Thanks for the company. What would I do without you?’ I said, to which he grins and gives me a big kiss on the cheek. ‘You’ve got a bit of coffee above your lip. You look like
Magnum
P
.
I
.’
Outside the hotel, Dan looks up and sees me. ‘Looking good sis,’ he says, clearly surprised, as though I was going to turn up in a shell suit for the occasion. ‘You should dress up more often.’
Just as I’m enjoying the feeling that comes from being told you look like a million dollars for a change, he snaps his fingers in front of me.
‘Anyway, pay attention! First things first, before we go in and you start sizing up potential girlfriends for me, I have news, good news on the girl front. I like someone.’
He hesitates and I wonder if he’s going to tell me about the dating agency that I happen to spy an application form for at his flat.
‘How did you meet her?’ I ask.
‘Oh, I met her through someone I know,’ comes the reply and I smile encouragingly.
Sure
,
you
did
.
Pulled
her
randomly
in
a
bar
more
like
!
‘Good luck with it,’ I say as I mean it. It’s just nice to see my brother a little softer round the edges and not playing the role of heartless lothario.
A little while later, the evening is in full swing. There’s an auction going on, with prizes such as a fondue kit and a spa break on offer. There’s also a vasectomy up for grabs, described in the brochure as ‘a painless operation performed at a Knightsbridge clinic that will enable you to put those annoying contraception days behind you.’ Dan’s finance director then proceeds to watch in horror as his determined wife bids for his snip, sitting on the (exceedingly smug) table fifteen, who appear to have won everything going.
Having just successfully bid for the very expensive spa break somewhere fancy, Dan is now talking very loudly to a very insipid looking blonde wearing a very low cut top and I inwardly groan.
Not
again
! He then some sort of gesture to the belly and for a split second I think he’s talking to her about Liv. He can’t be. Having said yes to every top up and eaten my weight in fancy canapés, I walk over to him having this heart-to-heart and on closer inspection, I can now see the blonde would rather be somewhere else.
‘I met a nice girl the other day but I’m not sure if she’s interested,’ he says to her, before waggling his finger at her, almost taking her eye out in the process. ‘I’m not going to give up though!’ The girl looks bored, no doubt having wasted precious pulling minutes on a reformed slut who appears to be having an identity crisis. Waving his arms, Dan draws a heart in the air with his finger. ‘You know when you think you know and then you try and pretend it isn’t what it is only to then spend the rest of your life telling yourself that you did know but you are better off pretending you didn’t.’ He stops for a second and almost talks to himself reiterating what he just said, then visibly relaxes, pleased at his speech.
‘Dan,’ I interrupt. The girl sees her window of opportunity and walks off in relief.
‘You okay there sis, you still hungry? I saw you seriously chomping on the canapés.’
I grin at him. ‘Yup, there’s not so much as a salad bar or mirror in sight. Dead posh-like.’ We stand there for a bit generally taking in the scene and making our usual scathing assessments of the outfits being worn, only for Dan to then point over to a crowd of people.
‘You can go over and say hello to that group you know?’ If by that he means he wants to go off and bore another girl without his sister standing there, I get the hint. ‘You know the bloke over there you know. It’s Jim.’
I stop and glare at him. Ugh, why didn’t he tell me that one of my three mini relationships was here? In this day and age, where most of us count a text as the equivalent of a proper date, Jim and I effectively lasted six-months.
‘Dan, I’m honestly fine,’ I say, shuddering at the memory of my short-lived affair with his work mate. ‘I don’t really need to make small talk. He’s the one who told me he’d never eaten pasta before.’ Yes, as tempting as it is, I think I’ll leave an awkward conversation with Jim for another night.’
‘You’re hilarious sis,’ he chuckles and walks off.
Finally, things are getting interesting at the party – the drink is kicking in and people are starting to behave badly. I’ve already overheard Dan’s secretary ask someone, who if I wasn’t mistaken was the CEO, to watch her purse as she was off for a dance. Clearly, on a night like this anything goes. Junior people speak to big wigs like shit, and married people get to snog single colleagues. Okay, so I may be predictably standing like a lemon at the side of the room, watching handsome boys in tuxedos and girls in identical slip dresses all laughing together as though they are in
Beverly
Hills
90210
, but it’s not all bad – there is a free bar after all. I decide to adopt an air of cool holding a glass of champagne in my hand, ignoring the fact that everyone around me seems to have a sense of belonging. I pretend I am in a
James
Bond
movie and that I’m just that little bit too cool for school – that is until I happen to spy someone I know all too well. Unfortunately, she clocks me immediately and waltzes on over with all the grace of an elephant.
‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t Kate Harrington,’ booms Mabel Bunce, sounding like she’s read far too many Jackie Collins novels, wearing a dress so short I can practically see what she had for dinner.
‘What are
you
doing here?’ she asks incredulously.
‘I’m with my brother.’ I reply, feeling a little indignant. ‘What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be organising some spreadsheets or doing a mail merge?’ I try and keep it light but it still manages to come out bitchy.
Stop
it
Kate
!
‘This party is sure better than your piss poor efforts at Jam Jam,’ snarls Mabel. At Jam Jam, I organised a party for our department in a mirrored basement of a big brasserie. Having organised it from start to finish, come the actual event, I was no longer in the party mood myself. No sooner had I sat down and taken a sip of champagne, people started to come to me with dilemmas such as, ‘I ordered the prawn cocktail but that doesn’t look like a prawn to me!’ – or ‘receptionist Sue has stolen the roast potatoes off my plate should I say anything?’ – or ‘I don’t like sitting opposite a mirror when I eat, do you think anyone will swap?’ By the time the lunch finished at ten o’clock that night I was beyond exhausted and ready to go, but felt obliged to stay until Barbara headed home. Unfortunately, she showed absolutely no signs of fatigue, so I had to watch her dance really badly on a table that she treated like a nightclub podium. There I sat, bored out of my brain until I spied a married Mabel Bunce and a married Simon from Accounts snogging like teenagers, oblivious to the stares around them.
Finally
,
things
had
got
interesting
! As much as I’m loathed to admit, Mabel is right. This party is much better.
‘My brother also works here too. He’s very senior you know,’ Mabel boasts. Looking me up and down, she mildly murmurs something about my dress, and then proceeds to tell me that she was handpicked to be Barbara’s EA and how her career is just going from strength to strength. Apparently, it took a couple of months to iron out all the mistakes I had made during my time. I try to tune her out as her spiteful attitude is almost displaced – certainly the limited time I had working with her doesn’t warrant it.
I can’t help myself though. ‘Weren’t you senior to me Mabel? Are you sure it’s not a demotion?’ I find myself asking, to which she glares at me.
‘You had no proper filing system,’ she interrupts. ‘I was shocked! I’m not surprised you didn’t make a year.’ I could tell her that as far as I am concerned filing is a little like sorting through smalls on the washing line – you either have the patience or you don’t – so I just put everything in a giant box because that way it never disappeared and I didn’t waste valuable time. But I don’t. I don’t mention working at the Globe too – why should I? She is the last person I want to talk to about anything.
The dance floor is now packed with people attempting to strut their stuff to a load of mega mixes. Dan is now performing the
Macarena
with wild abandon, flirting with another girl who has her manicured hand on his bottom. I then happen to notice someone who looks very familiar and the world goes dizzy for a minute.
Joe.
