OK.’
I gave him the address, expecting him to take hours to find it and arrive cursing our poncey southern road system, but he made it in about half an hour, armed with a couple of helpful bottles of wine. Him and Alex smiled fixedly at each other and shook hands, whereupon Alex said, ‘I think I’ll let you three get on with ripping everyone to shreds,’ and returned to his paper.
‘Wooo,’ said Fran, ‘Mr Perfect strikes again.’
‘OK, stop nipping at each other, you two.’
Fran shot him a final dirty look then joined us on cushions on the floor.
‘So!’ said Angus through clenched teeth. He’d obviously been thinking about what to say.
‘This isn’t at all embarrassing, is it?’
‘What isn’t?’ said Fran.
I kicked her on the ankle. ‘No, it’s not,’ I added. Fran smiled sweetly, leaving Angus looking uncomfortable.
‘How’s Fraser?’ I asked.
‘He’s fine. Recovered. She’s’ – there was no mistaking the intonation: it sounded like how people used to talk about Margaret Thatcher – ‘making him choose dinner patterns. Then every time he chooses one she tells him it’s wrong.’
‘I love that game,’ I said.
Fran stretched herself out on the floor and turned to face the ceiling, arms behind her head.
‘Look, why don’t you just tell him. Go up and say, “Fraser, don’t marry her, she’s a bitch. She’s a skinny-rumped, dyed-haired bitch bitch bitch. She’s a complete and utter utter utter bitch. If she was a president, she’d be Bitchaham Lincoln.’”
‘What’s your point?’
‘If she was a cowboy, she’d be Bitch Cassidy.’
‘Fran, that’s a pretty subtle idea. But I think Angus might have already tried it, somehow.’
Angus half tilted his head.
‘Kind of. I didn’t do the whole bitch song, though.’
‘Well, what happened?’
‘He looked at me like a mopey dog and said,’ – sincere voice – ‘“Angus, you two just haven’t hit it off. Believe me, she’s sweet. It’s going to be OK.’”
‘Argh!’ said Fran. ‘I can’t believe there’s anything I hate more in the world than women men think are sweet but who are actually complete BITCHES!’
Alex rustled his paper and peered over the top of it. ‘Really? What about women who can’t stop bitching and shouting all day?’
‘Oh yeah? What about men who run off to America and fuck their girlfriends about?’
I froze.
The way I heard Fran – and she always said everything on purpose – well, I suppose I’d assumed, guessed that Alex had been up to all sorts of things when he was away, but, well, I’d never known for sure, and I’d thought … I looked at him, already knowing that my eyes were full of tears, the kind that I tried to swallow until it hurt. Fran leaned over, suddenly worried about what she’d said.
‘Melanie …’
Alex threw down his paper and stormed off. I thought he was just going to leave – forever, probably. My throat felt as if I was being strangled.
Obviously not quite knowing what to do, Alex stormed back in the room again and nodded for me to follow him, but I was paralysed.
‘Come on,’ he said sharply. I stood up and walked out with him to the hall. He grabbed me and put his arms tightly around me, then tilted his forehead against mine, trying to regain his cool.
‘Your friend really, really hates me, doesn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ I said, biting my lower lip. I almost couldn’t ask.
‘D-did you?’ I quavered.
‘Mel, you know I had to discover myself. Try new things. So I could work out where I belonged. Here. With you.’
I dropped his very close gaze and stared fiercely at the ground.
‘America … it feels like a different life to me now. I did tons of things there I wouldn’t do here. Daft, meaningless things. You’ve got to believe me, pumpkin.’
I wanted to, so much.
‘You’re so special – I keep telling you that, but you don’t believe in yourself. Look, hey, I came all the way back for you, right? You know how messed up my head is. But here I am!’
I looked him in the eye again. He seemed so sincere, so desperate to make it all right. He was nearly in tears himself.
‘Please, Mel.’
We stared at each other for a long time.
‘It’s all right,’ I said finally. ‘It’s all right. It was a long time ago.’
‘Do you mean that? Fantastic you?’
‘Yes,’ I said quietly.
‘I thought about you all the time,’ he said.
‘Really? I didn’t think about you at all.’ I forced a laugh.
‘All that crap is over now, I promise. From now on, it’s just you and me. In fact, if you could only dump that Fran character, it would be absolutely perfect.’
‘Lex, she’s my best friend.’
‘And I’m not?’
‘You’re my soul mate, remember?’
‘Oh, yes.’
I had to ask.
‘Do you love me, Alex?’
He smiled and kissed me full on the mouth.
‘Ah shags you, don’t Ah?’ he said in exaggerated Cockney.
‘Just tell me.’
‘Pet, as much as I love anyone, I love you.’
He left after that. I stood by the door, not wanting to return to the sitting room quite yet. There was a stack of post on a ghastly occasional table. I never bother looking at it usually; bills I let Linda take care of, and everything else she usually flicks under my door. But I leafed through it listlessly, wondering how many animal charities there are in the world. Suddenly I drew out an envelope addressed to Alex, care of me. It was stiff, white card. How bizarre. Underneath, there was one for me too.
It
