You, Me and Him (20 page)

‘You’re not losing your identity!’ Finn cries out in despair. ‘It’s just the way it is! Keeping your own surname is so … I don’t know … so
defensive
, like calling yourself
Ms
.’

‘No, it’s not, Finn,’ Clarky says. He looks as if he’s washing a bad taste out of his mouth. ‘It’s personal choice, that’s all,’ he continues adamantly. ‘It’s sensible to use your old name for work too.’

‘Sensible? That’s romantic,’ Finn says with a large dollop of sarcasm.

‘You romance Josie, do you, Finn?’ Clarky waits for an answer.

‘I am romantic.’ He looks over at me. I’m feeling distinctly uncomfortable by now. Clarky and Finn will draw their swords before we know it. ‘J, aren’t I?’

‘You can be,’ I back him, thinking a few more cups of tea brought to me in bed would go a long way. But he did say that lovely thing to me about love at first sight not so long ago.

‘Thanks, darling.’

‘Always room for improvement, though.’

‘Did you want to keep your surname?’ he asks me.

‘Doubt she had a choice,’ mutters Clarky.

Finn ignores that.

‘The switch felt odd to begin with, but I had no longing to keep it.’

‘Well, I think you should tread very carefully before you marry because it can have disastrous consequences,’ says Aggie. ‘Don’t marry because you think you have to, or worse still because you’re pregnant. I know someone who did that and …’

‘Can we drop it now?’ I begin to clear the plates. ‘Coffee, anyone?’

*

I start to stack the dishwasher when they’ve all gone. Clarky and Aggie caught a taxi home. Will they kiss in the dark? Will they spend the night together?

‘The matchmaking worked,’ Finn says. ‘They clearly got on.’ He scratches the back of his head. ‘You’re quiet?’

‘Did we marry for the right reason?’

‘I believe in us,’ he says. ‘Tiana was so right, you have to have a belief system. Clarky drifts, uses one excuse after another not to commit to anything.’

‘I’m not talking about Justin.’

‘Christ, if you left me, J, I’d be lost. I’d grow a long beard, drink out of a whisky bottle and live on the streets, shouting “Jesus is LOVE,” like that old man you and George see.’

I smile at the idea. ‘We were young, though, weren’t we?’

‘We were old enough to know what we wanted. My parents’ marriage was a disaster, just like Clarky’s, but …’

‘You really don’t like him, do you?’

‘He’s all right.’

‘The tension was pretty clear tonight.’

‘J, he doesn’t like
me
.’

There’s a long pause before I say, ‘If you both dislike each other so much, why did you suggest a dinner party in the first place?’

He laughs with a shake of his head, as if I really should know the answer by now. ‘When you told me he liked Aggie, I felt this overwhelming sense of relief because,’ he breathes deeply, ‘at last it might get him out of our hair, once and for all.’ He takes the keys off the hook in the kitchen. ‘I’m going to get George.’ I watch him walk away from me. The door shuts behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

‘Blimey, he’s gorgeous,’ Tiana had said to me when she’d first met Finn, followed by a deep nudge to my stomach. ‘He was well worth the wait.’

In fact I still spent most of my days waiting until the evening when I could see him. Weekends were a slice of heaven. Forty-eight hours without interruptions. ‘When are you coming home?’ Mum would ask. ‘Your father and I can’t remember what you look like. When can we meet this Finn?’

We’d go out to nightclubs with Tiana and Christo, the music and happiness ballooning around us as soon as we entered the dark space. Finn had an old yellow Mini which we called Miss Lemon. The four of us drove around London in it late at night, music on in the background and the lights along the Embankment glittering with life. In the summer we had evening picnics in Hyde Park, each of us bringing a bottle of wine or cans of Pimm’s and beer. Tiana and Christo became close, so close that Finn and I wondered if they would get together, but they didn’t. They were like two lines that never quite met.

We’d meet on Sunday mornings at our local café, clutching mugs of coffee. We talked about books and films and politics and work and friends. The four of us loved to put the world to rights. I’d often ask Clarky if he wanted to join us but there was always ‘something on’. I knew he wasn’t exactly thrilled about Finn and me getting back together, but I was too happy to care.

I loved getting to know Christo again. He didn’t live in Finn’s shadow anymore. He worked for a record company, searching out new talent. He loved his job; you could see it in his face when someone asked what he did. He’d motivate me to circle every exciting job advert I saw. I had even applied for a job in Paris although I didn’t expect to get it because they were looking for someone with more experience. On the off chance I did, Finn and I would have to travel to see one another at weekends. This time a long-distance relationship would work.

Christo had also inspired me to carry on painting, saying that having my own exhibition wasn’t a ridiculous pipe dream. His encouragement was gentle but genuine. ‘All my life I’ve been told I’m no good. Don’t listen to stuff like that, J. Go out there and do it.’ Finn had agreed with him and together we’d gone to a few galleries to show them my work, but the truth was I needed a lot more in reserve. If I was really serious, I needed to be painting every spare minute I had. On one occasion I’d been distracted by seeing Finn’s back through the window. He was waiting outside for me as I tried to impress the gallery owners.

‘You have great talent but we’re not currently taking on new artists. Come back in six months’ time and I’ll see what’s on our books then,’ I was told.

‘Don’t give up,’ Finn said afterwards, taking my hand and locking his fingers round mine. I loved him for coming with me. With each day my love for him grew deeper. He was so much a part of my life now, as unchanging as the colour of my eyes.

*

David called me. ‘J, you know that job in Paris? Well, it’s yours!’

‘What?’ I was in my orange kitchen making myself a cup of tea. ‘You’re kidding?’

‘They’re going to ring today – pretend I haven’t told you. I did some talking to all the right people. It’s all yours, darling. Pack your bags.’

I felt this surge of joy, as if I were on a fairground ride, success lifting me high into the sky, followed by the fast downhill plummet; the sinking realisation that I couldn’t go.

David was waiting for me to say something. ‘Josie? Do you know what this means? There were hundreds of applicants and they want
you
. I have every faith you can do it, so go off and be a beautiful Parisian chick. Oh, and ring me once in a while.’

‘I can’t.’

‘What do you mean, you can’t?’

I leant against the counter and shut my eyes.

‘You’re not staying because of that boyfriend of yours? Tell me you’re not? I mean, love is as sweet as honey but it doesn’t last.’

‘It’s complicated.’

‘Only if you let it be. This is Paris, the city of love. You’ll have a ball, it’ll be fantastic for your career, just think of the …’

‘David!’ I had to stop him. ‘I’m pregnant.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I am lying in a white room, on a firm couch, looking at the screen with the nurse. Her dark hair is coiled into a bun and her skirt is as full as a ballgown’s.

‘Your child is nearly ready to come into this world,’ she says.

Finn is now by my side. ‘Who’s he?’ she asks, alarm in her voice.

‘He’s the father.’

‘I’m the father,’ he repeats proudly.

She veers back. ‘He’s not the dad.’ She looks scared of Finn.

‘Yes, he is.’

‘No, he can’t be.’ There is venom in her voice now. ‘
This
man is the father.’ She turns to the screen and a picture of a man’s face flashes in front of us.

‘You’re lying,’ Finn says, but the face continues to flash before us. The image seems to be growing bigger and bigger until I can see his face on every wall. I look up and it’s on the ceiling too. Each way I turn he’s there.

‘Josie? Tell her she’s lying.’

I can’t. I open my mouth but nothing comes out, just air.

The nurse moves closer to us. Now she’s dressed in a long black gown and her hair is long and flowing and black too. ‘This man isn’t the father. Tell him the truth, Josie.’ She turns round and points to the screen once more, as if it’s a blackboard. ‘
He’s
the father.’ She starts to roar with laughter. She is turning into the Wicked Witch of the West.

The face is Clarky’s.

I wake up in a sweat, disorientated. I turn, expecting him to be by my side. Instead there’s an empty space next to me. Relief sets in. I look at my watch. It’s only midnight. I walk into the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. When I look in the mirror I’m shocked. My skin seems to have taken on an unattractive tinge of grey. I pat one cheek. I feel puffy in the face; in fact, puffy all round. No matter how often people say you’re pregnant, not fat, it doesn’t matter. I was with Tiana today and felt like an elephant next to her. I must be at least twice her size.

I put on my dressing gown and walk slowly downstairs. I find Finn scrunched up on the sofa again, one arm raised above his head just like George sleeps, the television still on, neat gin in a tumbler by his feet. I turn the TV off before trying to wake him. This is becoming a regular ritual. ‘Come to bed.’

He half stirs.

‘Finn, it’s late.’ I tap his shoulder, hard this time. ‘Wake up!’

He rubs one eye and squints. ‘I was watching that.’

‘You were fast asleep.’

He yawns and stretches out both arms. I kiss him on the cheek. ‘Come to bed with me,’ I say more gently. ‘I miss you up there.’ I kiss him on the lips. Run a hand through his hair.

‘Josie,’ he says.

‘What? Come on, we haven’t slept together for ages.’ And I don’t just mean sex. I like lying next to him in bed. I kiss him again.

‘Josie!’ He extricates himself from me as if I’m some kind of irritant. ‘Stop it.’ Next he’ll be getting out the female killer spray.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m not in the mood, OK.’ He stands up and turns the television on again.

‘Fine,’ I say sharply. ‘I’ll take me and my clearly unattractive self upstairs.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that. If a guy doesn’t want to do it, that makes you suddenly unattractive?’

‘It would be nice to go to bed together every once in a while, that’s all.’

‘I’ll be up in a minute.’

I know he won’t. He’ll fall asleep again. ‘Don’t do me any favours.’

‘Josie!’

‘Quiet, you’ll wake George. Turn the lights off and turn the volume down,’ I demand before going back to bed on my own and into the darkness of my dream.

CHAPTER THIRTY

‘I haven’t been with a man since my husband left four years ago, not that he was much of a man,’ Aggie reflects as we stand at the school gates. It’s a good place to talk, rather like being in a car because there’s no escape.

Clarky and Aggie have been dating now for two months.

‘You haven’t had any other relationship?’ I am trying hard not to sound too surprised.

‘No. I told myself I had enough on my plate with work, El, moving house. I made myself believe that no one else would want the responsibility of looking after my boy. I built up a pyramid of excuses when the only thing really stopping me was fear.’

‘Of being hurt again?’

She nods. ‘I know I come across all talkative and full of confidence, but inside, well, I’m scared shitless. How sad, hey?’

‘It’s not sad. You’ve been through a lot. Believe me, sometimes I’m scared shitless too.’

‘About what?’

I tell Aggie how scared I am of having another child; of how Finn has been working longer hours than usual until at times I feel as if I’m leading a single life. ‘And when we are together each conversation is interrupted with, “Don’t do that, George,” or “Have you brushed your teeth, George?” Christ, I bore even myself to tears!’

Lately I have been thinking about Paris and how my life might have turned out if I’d gone. It’s a strange thought, putting myself in another country with a different set of people. Would I still be with Finn? ‘When I was a little girl I was convinced I’d be running my own gallery by the time I was twenty-one! Do you ever think about all the things you could have done with your life?’

Aggie laughs hollowly. ‘’Course. I know this sounds morbid, but after I divorced I wrote my own obituary.’

‘That
is
morbid.’

‘But it makes sense. It’s thinking about all the things I want to be recognised for. I always thought I’d own a restaurant by now, Mexican food. I’d have brightly coloured walls with chillies and garlic and peppers painted on them, and the place would always be packed at the weekends with live music, glam people and all that jazz. And what do I do instead? Cook up the odd quiche or lasagne for someone’s fridge.’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re bringing Eliot up on your own, no mean feat, OK?’

‘Thanks. You’re happy, though, with Finn? Apart from the long hours and all that?’

I don’t tell her that I actually asked myself if I married for the right reason. It had just been a stupid, flash thought and the result of spending too much time on my own. I remember my dream again and seeing Clarky’s face.

‘We’re going through a bit of a rough patch at the moment,’ is all I say. ‘Make the most of it, OK? It’s so nice when you first start going out with someone. You get married and then no snogs. Nothing.’

‘Why not? Finn’s a fucking Adonis!’

‘OK, I’m exaggerating a bit. What’s happened to your ex?’

‘I only hear from the sod occasionally. His new wife doesn’t want him to have anything to do with us and he’s too weak to go against her.’

‘It sounds like you’re better off without him.’

‘I don’t mind for myself, but what about El? He’s grown up without a dad. George doesn’t know how lucky he is.’

‘I’m sorry, it really … stinks.’ I can’t think of a better word.

‘My mother used to tell me I was a bad picker of men, that some people have that quality. But with Clarky, it’s different. He’s so artistic … a good cook. Makes the best curry, you know?’

‘I know,’ I say, ‘he used to make me …’

‘I can talk to him,’ she continues, ‘I mean, a man who actually communicates? My ex was like a sodding brick. Clarky and I love having breakfast in bed at the weekends. He brings me up warm croissants and coffee. And he’s wonderful with Eliot. You know, with discipline and trying to talk to him about men’s stuff. I know El plays up and can be very naughty …’

That’s a serious understatement, I think. He should be called Damien.

‘I reckon in his own way he’s punishing me for getting rid of his dad. He needs a man’s influence. Clarky plays cards with him and takes him to the shops and … fuck, I’m sorry, Josie, listen to me going on and on when you know him better than me anyway.’

‘It’s fine,’ I assure her. ‘It’s good to know he’s happy too.’

‘He talks so much about you. Sometimes I have to tell him to stop or he’ll make me jealous. Nothing ever happened between you two, did it?’

‘No.’ The question breaks the easy flow between us. It isn’t the first time she’s asked me either.

‘You’ve known him for years. He said you went travelling together?’

‘We’ve always been friends.’ I smile but there are tears in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, trying to find a tissue in her bag. ‘For the first time in years I’ve found a great man and a nice friend who makes standing at the school gates fun, and look at me, I’m a bloody mess.’

‘Here.’ I hand her one of my tissues.

‘Why are
you
crying, Josie?’

‘I … don’t … know. I’m pregnant?’ That’s my answer to any emotional outburst. I am thinking about how hard life has been for Aggie, of George without Finn, of how my life would be without my mother or father, and how much I miss my friend Clarky. The last time we’d spoken I was certain he was in bed with Aggie. I had wanted to talk to him after an argument I’d had with Finn but Clarky told me I should be talking to my husband about it, not him. He was right but his assertiveness had made me feel uneasy.

I miss the feeling of a new relationship, the fire, the passion and excitement; my whole body tingling from head to toe with the anticipation of just a kiss. I bite my lip to fight back more tears. Aggie’s face crumples in front of me again. ‘Look at us!’ We start to laugh uncontrollably. ‘I think I’ve fallen in love with him.’ She blows her nose loudly. ‘He hasn’t even had any relationship in the past to haunt me. This one boyfriend I had, way before I married, actually kept a photo of his ex on the bedside table. I kept on hiding it but back she came, like a ghost. I mean, talk about how to make a girlfriend paranoid! Clarky’s past is as clean as a whistle. He doesn’t seem to have had any girlfriends before me.’

‘No,’ I reply simply, ‘no one serious anyway.’

‘We’re not very different then. We’ve both been lonely for too long. But I don’t know what it is …’ She looks straight at me with needle-sharp eyes. ‘I keep on thinking, here’s this great man, who wants to be with me and take on El. Tell me, surely there has to be a catch?’