I just read back over my resolutions from last year. I can’t believe how much I took for granted: spend more time with Mum and Dad. How I wish I could write that again this year. I miss my dad with indescribable ferocity.
I’m not in the mood to make any new resolutions for the year ahead. Instead, I’m just going to try to concentrate on looking after what’s really important. The people I love.
‘But, Oscar, you know how important tonight is.’
I can’t keep the plaintive note from my voice. Oscar promised he’d come back a day early from Brussels this week to attend Sarah’s leaving dinner. I so rarely impact on his travel plans; I’m well aware that his diary is full and difficult to rearrange, but I thought just this once he’d be able to do what I needed him to do.
‘I know I did, and I wish there was something I could do, but my hands are tied,’ he says. ‘Brantman flew over this morning out of the blue, and between you and me I think there might be another promotion in the pipeline. How’s it going to look if I duck out early to go to a party?’
I sigh. Brantman is Oscar’s boss, the big cheese. ‘I see. It’s okay.’ I don’t especially see and it’s not really okay, but there’s nothing to achieve from arguing with him – I know he won’t change his mind. The huge commitment Oscar puts in for the bank compromises our marriage in a million ways, and it isn’t just any old party tonight. It’s a farewell dinner; the night I have to hug my best friend in the world goodbye and wish her well with her new life on the other side of the globe.
‘Maybe we could look at planning a trip out there to see her next year.’ He casts around for something mollifying to say, even though we both know there’s not even a chance of him taking a few weeks off to accommodate such a break, especially if this promotion happens. With the exception of our honeymoon, our holidays have been more like long weekends fitted around his working week in Belgium: a couple of days in Paris, a flying visit to Rome. On both occasions we’ve separated at the airport on Sunday evening and flown to different countries for work on Monday morning. Despite our best efforts to the contrary, our marriage is becoming exactly what we said it wouldn’t be – part-time.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,’ I say despondently.
‘You will,’ he says softly. ‘Sorry, Laurie.’
He rings off with an ‘I love you’ before I can say anything else.
‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ Sarah hugs me and twirls us round, laughing as she glances towards the hotel doors. ‘Where’s Oscar?’
‘Brussels. Sorry, Sar, he got stuck.’
She frowns, and then it clears. ‘No worries. You’re here, that’s the main thing.’
Our heels click against the marble floor as she leads me towards the bar. She’s chosen to have a farewell dinner with friends tonight before she and Luke head over to Bath tomorrow to spend their final few days with her family. I still can’t believe she’s going to live in Australia. I feel as if I’m losing her all over again. I’m thrilled for her of course, but I couldn’t help crying when she told me, and then crying again when I told Oscar at home later. I seem to have done a lot of crying lately.
‘This is nice,’ I say, trying to distract myself. I’ve not been to this hotel before; it’s got that intimate boutique thing going on, all warm greys and chandeliers with tall vases of flowers everywhere. ‘Very grown-up.’
She grins. ‘I had to do it some time, Lu.’
‘Moving across the world to be with the man you love certainly counts as grown-up in my book.’
She squeezes my hand. ‘Mine too. I’m bloody terrified.’
‘I don’t know why,’ I say. ‘Australia’s not going to know what’s hit it.’
If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Sarah is going to rock it over there. She’s already secured a job with one of the leading TV networks; all hail Australia’s sparkling new showbiz correspondent.
Before we go through the glass doors into the bar, she catches hold of my hand to stop me.
‘Listen, Lu, there’s something I need to say.’ We stand close together and she squeezes my fingers. ‘I can’t fly to the other side of the world without saying sorry for the way I was about … well, you know, everything.’
‘Oh God, Sar, you don’t need to apologize,’ I say, choking back tears already. I don’t think our argument is something we’ll ever talk about without being emotional. ‘Or maybe let me apologize too. I hated so much about what happened that day.’
She nods, her lip trembling. ‘I said some horrible things to you. I didn’t mean them. Missing your wedding day is the worst thing I’ve ever done.’
‘I hurt you. I never wanted to, Sar.’
She dashes her hand over her eyes. ‘I should have accepted your bracelet. It was the loveliest thing anyone has ever given me. I love you like a sister, Lu, you’re my best friend in the entire bloody world.’
I’m wearing the bracelet right now, and I do exactly as I’ve planned to. I open the clasp and slip it off, then fasten it around her wrist. We both look at it and she grips my hand really tight.
‘There,’ I say, my voice shaky. ‘It’s where it belongs.’
‘I’ll always treasure it.’ Her voice catches in her throat.
I smile through my tears. ‘I know you will. Now come on.’ I pull her into a hug. ‘Dry your eyes. Tonight’s supposed to be a happy night.’
We hang on tight to each other; it’s an ‘I’m sorry’ hug, and an ‘I love you’ hug, and a ‘what am I going to do without you’ hug.
Luke pulls me into a headlock as soon as he spots me in the bar.
‘Now we can start the party,’ he says with a grin. ‘She’s been watching the door for you.’
He’s adorable. Built like a rugby player, loud and full of sunshine, he only has eyes for Sarah. When she and Jack were together, I thought I saw love. And perhaps it was love, of sorts, but not of this sort, and certainly not on this scale. Sarah and Luke ooze love from their bones.
‘Laurie.’
I turn as someone touches my arm.
‘Jack! Sarah didn’t know if you’d be able to make it.’ Pleasure and relief wash through me at the unexpected sight of him.
He dips and kisses my cheek, his hand warm on my back. ‘I wasn’t sure we could come until this morning,’ he says. ‘It’s really good to see you.’
We. I look at him, and for a few seconds we say nothing at all. Then he looks away, towards a woman in a cerise dress who’s just appeared beside him with a couple of glasses of champagne in her hand. He smiles as he accepts one, slinging his arm loosely round her waist.
‘Laurie, this is Amanda.’
‘Oh,’ I say, and then catch myself and overcompensate. ‘Hi! It’s good to meet you at last, I’ve heard so much about you!’ I haven’t really; Jack’s mentioned her in passing in emails and I’ve seen her on his Facebook page, but somehow it hadn’t quite prepared me for seeing them together in the flesh. She’s quite beautiful, in a gilded blonde kind of way. Her chin-length flapper-girl waves look as if they’ve been set by one of those super-cool celebrity stylists, and she’s wearing her dress with a black leather jacket and ankle boots. She’s glamorous in an edgy way, and the watchful look in her blue eyes doesn’t quite marry up with the warmth of her voice.
‘Laurie,’ she smiles, air-kissing me on both cheeks. ‘We meet at last.’
I try not to overanalyse her words. At last? What does she mean by that? Her eyes linger on me, as if she wants to say something else.
We’re saved from the need for further immediate conversation by Sarah clapping her hands and ushering us all through into the restaurant. There’s fifteen or so of us, a mix of Sarah and Luke’s friends and closest colleagues. I glance at the two circular tables and see Oscar’s place card beside mine, with Jack on my other side, and then Amanda. I sigh and wonder if it’s too late to mess around with the cards, because without Oscar to balance us out, this is going to be testing. I don’t recognize any of the other names on the table. Joy.
‘Looks like I bagged the best seat in the house,’ Jack says with a grin, coming to stand beside me as he surveys the table.
My smile is so tight I wonder how my teeth don’t ping out and bounce off the walls. I doubt there’s enough wine in this hotel to make tonight bearable. I’m losing my best friend, my husband hasn’t turned up, and now I’m to spend the next couple of hours making polite conversation with Jack’s beautiful new girlfriend.
I take my seat and catch the waiter’s eye as he circulates with the wine. I think we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other tonight.
Bloody Oscar. The one time I actually wouldn’t mind him being here and he can’t be arsed to even be in the same country. Although from what I gather, he’s practically emigrated of late. Poor Laurie, it must be pretty lonely for her.
‘Great,’ Amanda sighs as she scans the set menu card. I sigh inwardly too, because eating out with her is always a bit of a gamble. She’s pescatarian and sugar-free, although the sugar in wine gets some kind of special pass because she says the alcohol neutralizes it. I’m pretty sure she’s made that up right off the top of her head, something I routinely tease her about. Tonight, though, I really want us to make a good impression on everyone, which is tricky, because the starter is duck liver pâté and the main course is chicken, and it’s my fault no one knows that my girlfriend doesn’t eat either. Sarah sent an email a while ago asking if anyone was vegetarian and I never answered.
‘I’ll sort it,’ I murmur.
She looks at me as the wine waiter fills up her glass. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll have other things.’ She catches Laurie’s eye. ‘Pescatarian.’ She chucks in an apologetic smile. ‘I hate having to make a scene.’
I try to catch Laurie’s attention, but she’s studying her menu again.
‘So what do you do, Mandy?’
I smart on her behalf; the Australian guy – I presume one of Luke’s friends – seated across the table couldn’t know it, but if there’s one other thing Amanda’s a bit of a stickler about it’s not being called Mandy.
‘Amanda,’ she corrects him, smiling to soften it. ‘I’m an actress.’
‘Bonza!’ The guy seems like he’s already had one too many. ‘Anything I’d have seen you in?’
This guy seems to have some kind of sixth sense for all the wrong questions. Amanda’s doing pretty well; she’s been in a couple of programmes local to Scotland and has a minor recurring role on a soap, but it’s highly unlikely this guy’s going to have heard of them.
‘Amanda’s on a soap up in Scotland,’ I say.
‘It’s just a small part,’ she amends, laughing.
The guy loses interest, and I lean in and speak quietly so only she can hear me. ‘You okay? Sorry if it’s a bit weird.’
She smiles gamely. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
She turns and strikes up polite conversation with the guy on her other side, leaving me and Laurie eating awkwardly next to each other. I’m not sure bringing Amanda today was my smartest move; she seems fine, but I’m starting to realize that I’m not.
‘It’s good,’ Laurie says, gesturing towards the pâté with her knife.
I nod. ‘How’re things?’
She pushes her salad around the plate. ‘Work’s interesting. I’m covering women’s health features mainly, so lots to learn.’
‘I’ll bet.’
‘You?’
‘Love it, yeah. Late nights, but I like that.’
Laurie lays down her cutlery. ‘Edinburgh looks lovely from your photographs.’
‘It is. You should come up sometime, I’ll give you the guided tour.’ I can feel Amanda stiffen slightly beside me, and on my other side Laurie looks uncertain. ‘You and Oscar, I mean, obviously,’ I add, to make it better. Then I make it worse again by tagging on, ‘If he can take the time off.’ What am I doing? Having the two of them visit is my idea of perfect hell.
I’m relieved when the waiting staff clear the plates and Laurie excuses herself from the table. I smile at the wine waitress to come and fill me up again. There’s only one way to deal with this level of social horror.
What an evening. Every time I get a couple of minutes with Sarah we set each other off crying, Oscar’s a no-show and Jack’s girlfriend is annoyingly nice, even if she is a pescatarian. I took myself to the ladies to give myself a stern talking to after our first course, and told my reflection that she’s Jack’s choice of partner, and he’s my friend, so I need to try to be hers. In fact, it must have taken a lot of balls for her to come today. Since then I’ve asked her more about her job and Edinburgh, and she actually seems like an interesting person.
‘Are you from London originally, Amanda?’ I asked, because her cockney twang placed her as clearly as if she’d been wearing a pearly queen jacket.
‘Through and through,’ she grinned. ‘Although you wouldn’t know it when I’m on set. My character, Daisy, is as Scottish as heather and shortbread, hen.’ She slipped seamlessly into a thick Scottish burr, convincing enough to make me laugh despite myself.
‘Wow, that’s really good,’ I said.
‘Practice makes perfect,’ she said with a shrug. She went on to tell me about some of the auditions she’s been on recently – I never realized it was such hard work to be an actress. Perhaps she’ll be good for Jack. She clearly has an idea of what she wants, and isn’t afraid to work hard to get it.
Up to today I hadn’t really registered her as being all that important in Jack’s life. But now that I’ve met her, I’m finding her harder to dismiss. Not that I want to; it’s just a jolt to see him with someone like her. Someone who might actually be relevant to his future. It’s just … I don’t know. It’s something I can’t quite put into words; like I never imagined his life in Scotland becoming his life for ever. I want him to be happy, of course I do, it’s just a bit of a surprise. That’s the word. She’s surprised me.
I smile at the pink-cheeked waitress who appears and places my main course down in front of me. ‘Thank you, it looks delicious.’
Jack does the same, and while we wait for someone to appear with the salmon they’re hastily preparing for Amanda, he nods across the room to the wine waitress to swing back his way.