Just a Girl, Standing in Front of a Boy (27 page)

‘You’ll get used to it,’ Matt says, kissing my shoulder as I stand wrapped in a towel looking at myself in the mirror. I’ve just dried my brown hair for the first time, ready for Matt’s work do tonight.

‘So weird,’ I say, staring at my reflection. ‘It hasn’t been like this for years.’

‘It suits you,’ he says. ‘You’re naturally beautiful as you are.’

I smile at him in the mirror, but he’s already heading into the bathroom.

Maybe it does suit me, but I feel like someone I don’t know. I don’t even recognise myself. It’s the strangest sensation. I can’t help but feel that this is the face that looked back at me in the mirror when I was depressed. I so don’t want to be that girl again. Mind you, it always takes a while to adjust to a new colour.

‘I really want to put on a hat.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ Matt calls from the bathroom.

‘No, it wouldn’t go with the orange backless number I’m wearing.’

‘Very funny. Fan, Jen, you need to be ready to go in half an hour.’

‘Yep.’

‘I mean it, Jen. Can’t be late for the reception drinks.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m just getting in the shower.’

I blow breath through my lips and wander to the window of Matt’s bedroom. My bedroom, I suppose, although it doesn’t feel like it yet. I look out at the car park and the high gates at the entrance to the development, and the field beyond it. Then I blow my breath through my lips again and step into my very plain, conservative dress and I don’t add the animal-print belt. Then I walk back to the mirror to apply make-up.

‘Who are you?’ I find myself whispering to the girl in the glass.

‘See, it’ll make a great venue for the wedding,’ Matt says.

‘Hmmm.’ I try to smile, I really do. But I’m just not feeling it. We’re walking along a corridor lined with framed pictures of men in horrible jumpers. The last thing this place says is party. The only fun party you could have here would involve desecrating it – with the right combination of people and booze, these gentlemen’s faces would end up covered in marker-penned willies and people would play naked midnight golf before bonking in the bunkers. That would have been just the sort of wedding that Philippa and I would have enjoyed, before all this. But I guess my and Matt’s wedding will be a bit more traditional.

Oh well, it’s just a day. At least they’ll do the clearing up.

Matt’s holding my arm as he steers me into the unimaginatively titled Function Room. It’s as horrible as I knew it would be: white tablecloths that stretch to the floor and those horrible narrow chairs with carpet on the back crammed around circular tables. Lining every wall are plaques full of club members’ names and lists of etiquette. It screams rules and regulations. Oh well, at least there’s a disco set up and a dance floor cleared, I’ll have a little dance later. That’ll perk me up. I wonder what Philippa’s up to this evening.

‘Smile, Jenny, you’re on show,’ Matt says, just before we stop in front of a young chap holding a tray of drinks. I wonder whether this was the bloke who asked to touch Philippa’s boob at the Doris ambush. I smile to think about it.

‘That’s better,’ says Matt. ‘We shouldn’t have too much booze. Grave error getting wasted at the work do. So we can have a drink now or save it until later.’

‘I don’t suppose you do Jägerbombs?’ I ask the young man.

‘I wish.’ He laughs. Yes, I bet he was the boob feeler.

‘J-e-n,’ says Matt, and looks about him to check no one heard.

I take a glass of champagne. I feel like getting wasted. I feel like drinking so much I can’t think, but I’ll make do with this one glass of champagne.

‘Jen, don’t flirt with the waiting staff,’ he whispers, leading me away. ‘Right, we’ll greet from the top, Jenny. Are you ready?’

‘I am very ready and at your service,’ I say, and then take quite a gulp.

‘Right, Mr Neville first, ah, damn, he’s just started chatting to someone.’

We stand still for a moment. I can sense Matt wondering where to go next. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a very attractive older lady walking quickly towards us. I turn towards her. Wow. She takes good care of herself. She has a figure that she’s obviously sweated to get, and a strong face with prominent cheekbones and a sleek jawline, covered perfectly with what I bet is hideously expensive make-up. She’s tanned and turned out and oozing an aura of money. She’s probably in her late forties, I must look like a clumsy girl next to her.

‘Matt, darling.’ She smiles.

‘Moira!’ Matt says, and he kisses her on both cheeks. ‘This is Jenny.’

‘Ah, Jenny.’ She says my name as though she’s heard a lot about me. She’s giving me the once over. I stand still and smile.

‘Lovely to meet you, Moira.’

‘Tell me, Jenny, do you ever get to see this handsome man of yours, because he works all the time.’

‘I know!’ I exclaim. ‘I keep trying to persuade him to take a sicky and stay in bed and watch telly for the day, but he’s so committed he won’t.’

Matt looks frozen. Moira gives me an odd look and then throws her head back and laughs. I decide I quite like Moira.

‘Is he wonderful in bed, darling?’ she asks me.

‘No, but he’s learning,’ I say.

Again she howls.

Matt smiles uncomfortably like a man who’s just been embarrassed in the presence of his boss.

‘I don’t mean it, darling,’ Moira says, winking at him.

‘Do you have a nice man?’ I ask.

‘That’s debatable,’ she says in a deep voice. ‘If you’ll excuse me…’ And she sashays away.

‘Wow, she’s awesome,’ I say, as I watch her go.

‘Hmmmm. Now, Jenny, let’s go and introduce you to Mr Neville and please no funny stuff.’

No one’s dancing yet. We’ve finished the dinner, and the music’s been on for an entire hour, but there’s still not a soul on the dance floor. I was quite happy to start the dancing off, it only takes one, but Matt said no. I feel sorry for the DJ. He’s obviously panicking. He played ‘All Night Long’ at half past nine. Still nothing.

You know a party is rubbish when you look forward to going to the loo to have a break from it. They’re actually very nice toilets. So that’s one positive to getting married at the golf club. Oh, what was your wedding venue like, Fan? Oh, the toilets were nice, very spacious. I lock myself in a cubicle. I put the toilet lid down and sit upon it. I don’t even need to go. Probably because I’ve only had one drink. One drink on a Saturday night. I shake my head at the thought, I hear two drunk girls burst in to the Ladies giggling, it makes me think of Philippa and me.

‘Ah, ow.’ One of the girls is panting. ‘These shoes are killing.’

‘Take them off!’

‘If I take ’em off I’ll only have to put ’em back on again. Then it’ll be worse.’

‘They look nice though.’

I smile. So like Philippa and me.

‘Bit shit, isn’t it? What time do you think we can get away to Tiddlies?’

‘Oh, not yet. Did you see Matt brought his woman with him?’

‘Hmmmm. She looks even more miserable than the last one. Do you remember her? Really pretty, amazing skin, but face like a someone had force-fed her lemons.’

That’s me and Trudi they’re talking about. Oh, dear, I thought I was doing a good job of pretending to be enjoying myself. Right, I must really concentrate on smiling when I get back out there.

I listen to the sound of make-up bags being rummaged through.

‘He’s marrying this one though.’

‘Poor girl. No wonder she looks down.’

‘He’s such a bastard.’

‘Handsome though.’

‘Do you think this one knows about him and Moira?’

‘Everyone knows about him and Moira.’

‘She probably doesn’t.’

‘What do you think he says he does every Friday then when he’s off boffing boss lady?’

‘No idea, squash or something.’

‘Man, I am so glad I’m single sometimes.’

‘Didn’t think anyone could look more miserable than the last one.’

‘I feel sorry for her. Maybe we should go and chat to her.’

‘Oooh, you know what we should do?’

‘What?’

‘Write a note! Like that thing in the paper.’

‘Oh yeah, an anonymous note.’

‘It’s a list of ten things, can you remember what they were?’

Their voices are high with excitement.

‘No more than two hours of telly!’

‘Yeah! Yeah! Do a good deed was one of them, um, um, bugger, what else?’

‘Have you got a pen?’

‘No.’

‘Oh, me neither.’

‘Sod it, shall we go and get a tequila.’

‘Yeah. Let’s go. Ow, my feet.’

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in here. It could be fifteen minutes. It could be fifty. It’s as though I’ve floated away from myself. I need to snap into some sort of gear. I need to do something but I don’t know what. Matt will be annoyed with me for staying in here so long. I’m surprised he hasn’t sent someone in to find me. Maybe he’s too embarrassed. One thing’s for sure, I need to get out of this toilet. If my legs will carry me. I’m suddenly not sure that they will.

I take a deep breath and lift my weight off the loo. I wobble for a second but remain upright. Phew. I open the cubicle door. A me with brown hair looks at me in the mirror opposite.

‘Hello,’ I say. ‘Bit of a balls up,’ I add. My reflection agrees and nods back. ‘You’re really, really bad with men,’ I tell myself. Again, I agree.

The brown hair’s actually not that bad, but I wish I hadn’t played down my clothes and make-up so much.

I take a big, really big, deep breath that almost makes me dizzy and walk out of the toilet as confidently as I can. I try to keep my head up and my shoulders back. I make my way back to the ghastly Function Room. Matt is hovering by the bar, he literally leaps towards me.

‘Jesus, Fan, where the hell have you been?’

‘I thought I was Jen now.’

‘Where were you?’

‘In the toilet, I did tell you.’

‘Not for half an hour! What the…?’ Matt looks at me with alarm.

I’m struggling to take my ring off. I didn’t want to do it dramatically, but my finger must have swollen up this evening. I’m having to tug and tug.

‘I’m just trying to take this engagement ring off, Matt,’ I say quietly.

‘What the…?’ he hisses back.

‘I just found out about you and Moira and I don’t feel so good about the wedding now.’

‘Shhhhhh,’ he sputters.

‘Everyone knows about you and Moira, Matt, I don’t think I really do need to shhhhh.’

‘Well, er, Jenny, listen, you can’t talk, you…’

‘Yes, I did. If you’re going to say, you slept with someone else. Yes, I did. But I told you, Matt. I didn’t try to deceive you. Not that it matters.’ I look into his despairing face. ‘Come on, we’ve both had other partners during our engagement, it probably isn’t the best indication of a blissful marriage.’ The penny drops. ‘Was this all because you wanted to be made a partner? You thought you’d stand a better chance if you were married?’

I have never seen a man look as uncomfortable as Matt does now.

‘But we were all right together. It wasn’t as if…’ he trails off.

I’ve finally got the ring off. I hold it out for him. He looks at it.

‘I don’t know what to do, Fan,’ he says and he really does look very lost.

‘Well, just concentrate on your work,’ I say, which sounds a little ridiculous.

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He’s not taking the ring so I clutch it back in my hand.

‘I’m going to go now,’ I say, and then for some reason I add the words, ‘I hope you do get made a partner.’

And then I turn and I walk away, just as the DJ starts playing ‘Sex on Fire’. I stretch my arms in the air as I walk and I think of Joe King.

The cold night air slaps me as I step outside. It knocks my confidence. I freeze. How could I have got it so wrong? All of it so wrong. Repeatedly. If there was an award for ‘Woman With the Worst Love Life’ I would definitely be in contention. In fact I’d be raising the cup above my head right now. At least there’s a taxi coming down the driveway. I hope it’ll take me back to Tiddlesbury. Back to the flat. Back to Mum and Al and pyjamas and my Larry Lemon DVD. Back to where I should have stayed.

The cab pulls up in front of me. I step towards it to speak to the driver, just as the nearside back passenger door opens, and out steps… out steps… this is the strangest thing… out steps my mum.

‘Jenny,’ she says, as though
she’s
surprised to see
me
.

‘Mum!’ I exclaim.

‘Are you leaving already?’ She looks tired, incredibly tired. And she sounds tired too. She’s almost slurring her words.

I nod. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Oh, Jenny, I just couldn’t sleep. I had to see you.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Well…’

‘Actually, Mum, let’s get in the cab, and get him to take us home.’

‘But what about Matt?’

‘Matt and I are no more,’ I say. ‘And we never will be again. He’s been bonking a lady partner at his work.’

Oh,’ she says, and her shoulders seem to release. ‘Oh, that is good news.’

‘I’ve had better, to be honest, Mum.’

‘You can call that nice Joe King,’ she murmurs.

I sigh at the mention of his name. I think I’ll always sigh when I hear the name Joe King.

‘Well, I could if he hadn’t brutally dumped me.’

We climb into the back of the taxi and tell the driver to drive us back to where he just came from. I take Mum’s hand.

‘So let me get this straight, you got a cab at ten at night, to come to Matt’s work do, where all his partners were, in order to talk to me.’

‘I just wanted to see you,’ she says dozily.

‘Why?’

‘I just knew you would be here, and I wanted to see you.’ She smiles.

‘But why right this minute?’

She shrugs. ‘Sometimes you have to do what’s on your mind there and then.’

I shake my head and laugh.

‘Have you been smoking the doobies again?’

‘Maybe.’

I turn my face towards hers and smile. She smiles back and I squeeze her hand.

‘I love you, Mum,’ I say, and I stop myself from saying ‘even though you are bonkers’ because I love her just the way she is.

‘And I love my beautiful girl,’ she replies.