It disrupted the natural order of things. She and Amy should be people who blanked each other in the street, not people who had to pretend to be pally and share bowls of olives in a gastropub. This, she told herself, was why she hated Amy, of course. It was nothing to do with the fact she was going out with Dan.
Amy delicately ate an olive, and licked one of her fingers. She smiled at Laura pityingly. ‘An engagement ring, of course.’
A pip from the lemon slice in Laura’s gin and tonic wedged itself in her throat and she nearly choked. ‘Right,’ she gasped, determined not to lose control. ‘Right. Aaah. Aaaaah. Loo. Excuse me,’ and she got up and stumbled outside, to the clear fresh air of the May night. She stood there taking big gulps of air, one hand clutching her throat, the other rubbing her stomach, a habit she had had since she was little. Right indeed. She looked in through the big glass windows of the Cavendish, over to the squashy leather sofas where her friends sat, and wondered how things had come so far, got so out of control, so ridiculous. She looked at Jo, methodically folding up her cardigan, neatly stowing it in her bag, and felt helpless. She felt a million miles away from her best friend, from those she thought she knew.
As if by magic, Dan appeared around the corner. He had been to get some cigarettes. He jumped when he saw Laura standing outside, and she nearly screamed.
‘What the…what are you doing out here?’ Dan said testily.
‘Having a breather,’ Laura replied, suddenly furious at him, especially at his tone. ‘Listening to your girlfriend talking about her thirtieth birthday in September, how she wants us all to fly out to Valencia and watch whilst you propose to her in front of all of us – oh Dan, Dan…’
She started sobbing, great racking, heaving sobs that shook her, and Dan pushed her away from the window and against the shop next door. He put his arms around her, holding her so tightly she thought she might not be able to breathe.
‘Now, listen,’ Dan said, putting a thumb up to her cheek to wipe away a tear. ‘I have been such a shit to you. And to her, but this is about you. I promise you, that is not going to happen. I promise you I’m going to talk to her in the next couple of weeks. This has to end. I can’t be with her any more, I just can’t stand it. And I want to be with you.’ He held her tighter and kissed her. She could feel him growing hard against her leg. ‘I want to be with you, do you understand me?’
‘Yes,’ Laura whispered. ‘So…it’s over with her, then?’
‘Yes,’ Dan said solemnly. ‘Shit. I’m going to have to do something about it now, aren’t I?’
‘Yes, you are,’ Laura said, hiccupping.
‘Good. Now,’ Dan bent down and kissed her again. ‘I’m so sorry I’ve been so useless. It’s not fair on her, or me, and especially not on you. We will be together, I promise.’
‘You really promise?’ Laura said, wanting a final reassurance.
Dan gripped her wrists and pressed himself against her. ‘Shit, Laura, I don’t know what else I can say…’ He looked around, shaking his head. ‘I want you to believe it, I really do, but until I’ve talked to her I can’t…if only there was some way.’
Laura said slowly, ‘How about that holiday? In July? That one we talked about. Florida road trip? Ending up in Miami. Two weeks, just us.’
She looked into his eyes, and could see the glimmer of uncertainty – of something else, what was it? – there. He looked back at her, trying to breach that final gap between them. Laura started to turn away and Dan grabbed her again and said, ‘No, fuck it. Book it. I’m just scared. But I’m being weak and crap. Book it.’
‘Seriously?’ Laura said, trying to stay calm, though a big smile broke out across her face. Dan laughed.
‘Seriously.’ He kissed her again. ‘I mean it.’
He stepped back and the release of his weight on her made Laura feel light-headed. It reminded her of something she and Simon used to do when they were little, stand in a doorframe and press their hands out against the wood for a minute at a time, and then, when they stepped forward their arms would float above their heads, as if of their own accord, weightless, drifting, like feathers in the sky…
He walked back into the pub without looking behind him once, and Laura hung back for a few seconds. This was their usual routine. If someone she knew appeared, she’d just get out her phone and pretend to be texting. She turned towards the door, but as she was pushing it open, someone caught her elbow. She spun round, half with shock, and saw Jo behind her, standing on the pavement. Her face was pinched, her pupils huge.
‘Laura…?’ she said. ‘Laura?’
‘What?’ Laura replied, completely calm. Nearly six months of this had made her a professional. She was certain Jo hadn’t seen anything. She held up her phone. ‘I was just texting someone, reception’s terrible in there.’ She gestured inside.
‘What’s going on?’ Jo said, not reacting.
‘Nothing, what do you mean?’ Laura replied, slightly on edge. There was something about Jo’s usually cheery, open expression that made her nervous.
‘You’re screwing Dan, aren’t you?’
‘What?’ Laura said. ‘What?’ she repeated. ‘I wish. Come on, let’s get back inside.’
‘I saw you,’ said Jo, advancing slowly towards her. ‘I saw him kiss you, I saw you both just now. Laura, Laura!’ The words were tumbling out of her, she looked distraught. ‘What the…what the fuck are you doing? How long has this been going on? Does Amy know?’
‘It’s nothing,’ said Laura, her self-preservation gene kicking in. ‘Completely the wrong end of the stick. You know how matey we’ve become.’
Part of her wanted more than anything else to tell Jo, to confess all, to ask her best friend’s advice. But she couldn’t. She’d chosen it this way, and soon it would all be sorted out. Just a little while longer…if she could just hold her off for a little while longer. Jo would be pleased, she would.
But Jo wasn’t showing much sign of being pleased for her now.
‘I know what I saw,’ she said. ‘Oh Jesus. All this crap about you two being friends on the tube platform, that’s how it started, isn’t it? I knew you were up to something. But…Dan! Laura, I know you’re a screw-up when it comes to relationships, but…not again! What the fuck are you doing?’
‘Whatever I’m doing,’ Laura said, feeling really angry, ‘it’s none of your business, so why don’t you just butt out, OK?’
‘Oho, no,’ Jo said, coming right up to her, her brown eyes enormous in her pale face. ‘It is my business, love. It’s my business when my supposed best friend starts shagging our best man behind everyone’s back, and then sits there in the pub pretending to be all matey-matey with his girlfriend. It’s my business when my best friend lies to me all the time, and I never know where she is, and it turns out that’s because she’s having an affair with one of our best friends. It’s my business when I send you an email saying I’m taking Chris to Morocco for a surprise to cheer him up because of his granddad and you send a long reply going on about how fat you think you are! And you never even call, you don’t remember
