The Shoestring Club (4 page)

He gets to his feet, still beaming at me. ‘Later, Jules. Bird’s right, we should catch up. I’ll call in sometime, yeah?’

I feel so grateful, so utterly pathetically grateful, that tears prick the back of my eyes and I have to stare at the wall for a second and blink them back.

‘I’d like that,’ I say, trying not to sound too needy. But ‘Tonight?’ is out before I can stop it.

He’s looking at me, an expression I can’t quite make out on his face.

‘Sure,’ he says finally, then follows Bird out the door.

I watch them leave. Then I stand there for a second, lost in thought, the memories flooding back. For some reason I suddenly remember Jamie’s sandpit. His dad built it before he did a runner with a woman from work, and it was huge, with a thick wooden ledge around all four sides to sit on. We used to spend hours building our own little world in the sand, complete with roads, houses, and ‘people’ (my Sylvanian Family animals who were permanently dripping sand out of their arm and leg cracks because of it). We progressed to playing Superman saves Lois Lane, and Indiana Jones versus the Nazis, and Jamie sometimes let me be Indiana, even though I was a girl. When my family moved into Sorrento House with Bird, Jamie and I became inseparable, and stayed that way until a certain Ed Powers came into the picture.

The last time I saw Jamie was Christmas two years ago, when Ed and I were still together. Jamie was back from Galway for the holidays and we’d bumped into each other in Finnegan’s pub while Ed was talking to someone at the far end of the bar. We said hi to each other politely and exchanged a few words about the weather, about Bird and Daphne being as mad as ever, and how frantic Christmas was, but we hadn’t mentioned the elephant in the room: the fight when Ed had nearly killed him.

Then Ed came back, glared at Jamie wordlessly, slipped his arm around my waist proprietorially, and guided me away.

Jamie is a year younger than me, and two years younger than Ed. When I’d started college – Business Studies in Dublin City College, more because I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted to do and DCC was rumoured to have the best social life, including the busiest student bar – Jamie was still in school. I’d met Ed in the DCC bar during Freshers’ Week. It was surprising we hadn’t already met. He was a Glenageary boy, lived in Silchester Park, a ten-minute cycle from my house.

He’d taken a year off to travel before college – a gap year – and was dripping with self-confidence. I was instantly drawn to him. He’d been travelling around Europe for the past few months in a camper van and was full of stories of his exploits. Quickly we became a couple, and I admit that at first I was a little obsessed.

It was Jamie’s Leaving Cert year. He hated exams but was determined to get onto a cutting-edge computer course in Galway, one of the best in Europe, so he made himself study. And I hate to admit it but I pretty much abandoned him during my first term at college. I didn’t answer his calls, stopped dropping in, and when he arrived on the doorstep, wondering what was happening, worried about me, I just turned him away saying I was busy studying, which was a total lie . . . I wasn’t doing a thing. What I was busy with was partying with Ed, Monday to Friday, and collapsing at the weekends, exhausted.

That first Christmas Ed and I were together, something happened. On Christmas Eve, Ed and I had spent all day and night in Finnegan’s and were high as kites on Christmas spirit and spirits. Ed had been flirting with this girl we both knew from college all evening and on the way home I gave him a hard time about it.

‘What?’ he’d demanded. ‘It was a drinking game, Jules.’

‘Ed, when I got back from the loo you had your tongue stuck down her throat. And when I slapped you, you just pulled away and grinned and wiped your mouth on the sleeve of your hoody. Nice.’

‘Don’t take it so seriously, babes. Honestly, it didn’t mean anything.’

‘It was insulting, Ed. I was mortified.’

We stopped outside my house and then went around the side. He grabbed his bike from where he’d left it against the oak tree in the garden, under my tree house, and made to leave.

‘Are you not coming up? I left a bottle up there like we planned.’ The tree house had become our den. It was perfect, no one bothered us there, and when I pulled up the ladder and closed all the hatches and doors it was like our own special kingdom. Years ago I’d dragged up an old rug, a cot mattress I’d found in the shed, plus blankets and cushions and had created a really comfy seating area. It was my haven, my escape.

I used to share it with Jamie; we pretended to be prince and princess of Treelandia, and had all our own laws and everything. We used to spend hours up there, inventing our own fantasy world. Jamie drew up this amazing map of our kingdom, and we had ‘subjects’ – we were the Tree Dwellers, the royalty of Treelandia. Then there were the Dalkey elven folk who made all our leather and gold clothes and shoes, the Animalati, an animal army who could talk. They kept the kingdom safe from the evil Dalkey Islanders, bloodthirsty vampire Vikings, who were always trying to invade Treelandia and enslave our subjects. Jamie’s drawings were incredible and we had books and books of them, kept in an old wooden box Bird gave us that smelt of tea.

But I was eighteen by then, too old for all that stuff, and now Ed was my tree-house prince.

Ed snorted. ‘No way, babes. Not with you in this mood.’

‘Ed! It’s Christmas Eve. Come on. It’s not even twelve yet. I thought we were going to see in Christmas Day together.’

He shrugged. ‘Changed my mind.’

I grabbed his arm. ‘Please. I’m sorry. I’ll forget all about it, I promise. Just come up.’

He shook off my arm and pushed me away. I don’t think he intended to be rough, but I tripped on a root and fell backwards, hitting my head on the tree trunk. The next thing I knew Jamie scrambled down the rope ladder and stood glaring at Ed.

‘You hit her,’ he said. I think he’d been laying into my vodka, because his eyes were glassy and he didn’t seem himself.

Ed just looked at him and laughed. ‘Shut up, squirt.’

‘What were you doing up there, Jamie?’ I stood up straighter and stopped rubbing my skull. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t want Jamie to see it.

‘Waiting for you. It’s Christmas Eve, remember? We always see Christmas Eve in together, Jules.’

‘I haven’t seen you in weeks,’ I said, confused. Did he really think I’d want to spend Christmas Eve with him instead of Ed now. Was he deranged?

‘Just get lost, Clear,’ Ed said, putting his arm around my shoulders. ‘Julia’s with me now. Find someone your own age to play with.’ He looked at Jamie and started to smile nastily. ‘I get it, you’re jealous. You’d love to get into Jules’s knickers, but I got there first, and man she’s hot, really—’

Bang. Jamie landed a punch across Ed’s nose, making it bleed instantly.

Ed put a hand up to his face, took it away and stared at it, blood dripping down his fingers.

‘You little fucker,’ Ed muttered. And then they started laying into each other, pulling, kicking and punching. Ed was a good six inches taller than Jamie and within minutes had him pinned to the ground, and was pounding his face, over and over again, as I screamed and tried frantically to pull him off but it was no use.

Suddenly Bird appeared out of nowhere in a billowing white nightie and threw a basin of water over the pair of them, making Ed stop mid-punch. But then he shook off the water and threw another one.

‘Get off him for God’s sake, Ed.’ Bird hit Ed over the head with the basin, hard, and then raised it again.

Ed put up his hand to protect himself. ‘Jesus, what the fuck?’ He stopped hitting Jamie and twisted his head to stare at Bird.

‘Watch your language, young man,’ Bird snapped, her eyes flinty.

While Ed was distracted, Jamie landed a thump on the side of Ed’s face. We could all hear the crack. Ed climbed off Jamie, and hopped around the garden, holding his nose.

‘Shit, shit, shit. I think you’ve fucking broken it, you moron.’

Jamie crawled to his hands and knees, his face dripping blood. ‘That’s what you get for pushing women around and being an arrogant prick, you, you, fucker.’

‘Jamie Clear!’ Bird thundered. ‘While your sentiments are admirable, brawling is never acceptable. And for pity’s sake, language! Now, Julia, go and fetch my car keys. We’d better take your sorry excuse for a boyfriend to casualty. Oh and happy Christmas everyone. It’s just turned midnight.’

I stood staring at her.

‘You heard me, Julia,’ she ordered.

I opened my mouth to apologize but she cut me off. ‘I don’t want to know. Not another word from any of you until you’re sober, understand? Now get my keys. And Jamie, that cut on your eyebrow looks bad. You’d better come with us. And I want utter silence in the car, understand, or there’ll be hell to pay.’

We all nodded silently. Ed was staring at Bird, a dark look on his face, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. At that moment I felt about an inch tall. From that night on I refused to speak to Jamie Clear, mortified at what he’d done, furious at him for breaking Ed’s nose, angry at him for picking a fight in the first place. If Bird hadn’t intervened, who knows what might have happened.

Ed and I broke up later that day over the phone. He said I hadn’t defended him in front of Bird, had let her fawn over Jamie in the hospital, like he was some sort of hero. I was distraught. For months I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, everything seemed pointless. I didn’t bother taking most of my first year summer exams, knew I’d fail. Which I did. In spectacular form.

The following Christmas Eve we got back together, in Finnegan’s ironically enough, although that night Jamie was conspicuously absent.

That punch up marked the end of my friendship with Jamie. The summer after the fight, as soon as he’d finished his Leaving Cert exams he went to America to intern with Pixar and, when he returned, went straight to Galway to start college. It’s only now, after years of reflection, that I finally appreciate what he tried to do for me.

I shake off the memories, rub my damp eyes with my knuckles and then concentrate on flicking through the rest of the clothes hanging on the back of the door, hoping to find something more suitable to wear. My head throb now taking on epic proportions. The door suddenly flings against me, the wood smacking against my temple, exactly where the throbbing is at its worst. It’s really not my day.

‘Ow!’ I yell, rubbing my skull. ‘That hurt.’

Pandora sticks her head around. ‘It took me ages to get rid of Lainey. She’s bloody stubborn sometimes, but she’s finally gone. You owe me one, Jules. And where’s the Farenze dress? I don’t trust you with it.’

‘Charming.’ I hand it to her. She gives it a quick once-over and, satisfied, leaves.

The door opens a second time. It’s Pandora again. ‘Sorry, forgot to ask. You all right?’

I nod silently and, satisfied with that, she disappears again. I stand there and sigh. I’ve a good mind to sneak out the back way, jump on my bike and skedaddle, if it wasn’t for the fact that I have no shoes, unless you count the Choos and Pandora would kill me if I scuffed the heels from cycling in them. I’m also wearing what Jamie so delightfully referred to as a ‘hookery’ outfit. Instead I decide to sneak back to the changing room, grab my jeans and
then
hotfoot it home. Yes, Pandora will probably sack me, again, but at this stage I just don’t care.

I open the door, check there’s no one around and then sprint to the changing room, where my jeans, shoes and top are still on the floor where I left them. I whip the curtain across and start untying the knot in the shirt. I hear a familiar voice outside and my back stiffens.

‘Pandora Schuster, you had no right to make my sister cry.’ It’s Karen Anderson, Lainey’s oldest sister, in full swing. Karen prides herself on being direct and is always, always right; Lainey hates it and tends to avoid all confrontation with her because of it. And from the sound of things, Karen’s on the war path. I pull the curtains open a crack and peek out. There she is, leaning over the cash desk, in a purple Juicy tracksuit and runners, her hair pulled back into its usual face-lift ponytail. When she’s not minding her perfect blonde (perfectly ghastly) children, she spends her life at the gym or playing tennis.

Pandora is standing her ground. ‘After what she did to Jules, she deserves it.’

Karen plants her fists on her waist. ‘Says who? Lainey and Ed are in love and now they’re making a proper commitment. Jules shouldn’t be acting like such a child. Anyone would think she’s still in love with him. Maybe she wants him back.’ She cocks her head and gives Pandora a ‘what do you say to that?’ look.

But she’s underestimating Pandora, who, like Bird, is always calm under pressure. My sister narrows her eyes. ‘Karen, Jules is no fool, she knew Ed saw other people while she was away, they had an understanding. But while she was avoiding the rain in Wellington, your darling sister had her beady eye on Ed, and once she seduced him, she stuck to him like a limpet. And didn’t even have the decency to tell Jules about it until months later. Jules got shafted by both Ed
and
Lainey, and we both know it. Ed, well, OK he’s a man, but you don’t betray your best friend like that, Karen. You just don’t. And you’re wrong, Jules has no interest in that worm, not after everything he’s done to her. Now kindly leave my shop. None of your family is welcome here.’