face that.
‘We’ve all changed,’ I say, the words heavy, and as he glances across at me, I add, ‘It’s been ten years. My thighs have definitely changed.’
‘Your thighs are gorgeous.’ He looks back at the road. ‘But she’ll only be forty once and she doesn’t have anyone else to organise something for her. Ava won’t do it. She can’t arrange her own fortieth birthday and we’re her best friends.’
The thought is sweet, sometimes he is so very sweet, and my words come out too fast, my tongue loose after one glass of wine too many. ‘She may have a boyfriend to celebrate with by then.’
‘Oh?’ Now he’s looking at me properly, the road ahead empty of cars. ‘Come on. Spill.’ He smiles, white teeth in the darkness.
I fluster. I shouldn’t have said anything. This isn’t his business. This isn’t my business. Lisa would hate me talking about it. ‘Oh, it’s nothing really. Just someone at work.’
‘There’s a hot new man in the office? You didn’t say.’
The seat feels warm under me. ‘He’s not staff. He’s a client of hers. He owns a hotel chain or something.’ I sound dis-interested. Maybe too disinterested. It’s hard to get the balance right. ‘He’s opening a new one in town.’
‘A hot new boyfriend for Lisa? Sounds great. She’s been single too long. About time she got back out there.’
‘He’s not good-looking.’ Houses go by outside, lights still on in some, and I wonder at the lives inside, all the truths people hide behind those walls. Private lives. ‘But they like each other.’
They do like each other, however defensive Lisa might have been tonight. That was just nerves and embarrassment because she doesn’t know how to handle it. I wish I could tell her to relax. She deserves some happiness. Some fun at least. It’s been lovely to see her in the delicate dance around each other that comes at the beginning of something. The glow she has after their meetings, the endless meetings no client needs to have so many of, the smiling she doesn’t know she’s doing. I’m full of joy for her. Simon has the potential for a happy ever after.
‘Maybe we should go out for dinner with them,’ Richard says, as he pulls into the drive. ‘There could be some work in it for me.’
‘That would be nice,’ I answer. I’ve got no intention of setting up a foursome dinner with Lisa and Simon. They haven’t had a date yet, and Richard would push for work, I know he would, and then Simon would either offer him something out of pity or have to awkwardly ignore all the hints. Either way, it would be terrible.
‘But let’s see if they actually go out together first, okay?’
‘Okay. It’s sweet how you look after her.’ He kisses me on the forehead before unlocking the front door.
I watch Richard go inside before following, taking one last breath of clean night air. So many times I’ve been tempted to tell Lisa what’s going on, and I’m glad I haven’t. She needs hope. She’s had something bad happen in her past, that much is clear even if she closes down when I ask her about it. I can’t burden her with my problems. And maybe it will get better. Maybe it will go back to how it was at the beginning. We all need hope, me included.
Richard says nothing more about it until we’re getting ready for bed. I’m taking my make-up off, suddenly tired, when I see him looking at me in my reflection in the mirror.
‘What?’ I ask, a smear of cold cream across my cheeks.
‘What did you mean when you said he wasn’t good- looking?’
And so it begins.
AVA
I’m glad Courtney didn’t stay over. I just wanted to wash him out of me. It’s not him I think about all the time. The first thing I did after was check my phone for a Facebook message but there was nothing. I wanted to cry.
By the time we came downstairs, everyone was drunk and Ange was snogging Darryl in the kitchen, but after ten minutes or so, Jodie told the boys it was time to go. It felt clinical. Done what you came here for, now fuck off. I didn’t argue. It suited me when they left although after that came the interrogation as the girls wanted all the details. Did it sting? It stung me the first time. Did he get it in okay? Oh my God, how big? How was he after? I’d tried to stay excited about it but I felt hollow and sad. My first time shouldn’t have been like that. So nothingy. There wasn’t even any blood on the bed.
This morning it all feels like something that maybe happened in a dream, but the slightly dull ache between my thighs reminds me it was real. Can I dump him now? No. I’d look like such a tramp, and he’d be upset and who knows what he’d do, what he’d say or tweet or whatever. Call me fat and ugly and all that shit. I remember all the Snapchat crap that happened with Meg in Year Ten when she’d sent Christian pictures of her tits. At least I was never that stupid with Courtney. Anyway, I do like him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. It’s all a mess.
I lean against the door frame as I puff on the cigarette. We don’t smoke much or often – it’s shit for our lung capacity – but there are times. And this is one of them. Jodie’s mum, Amelia, apparently smokes occasionally and Jodie found the packet last night, after which Lizzie insisted we smoked to celebrate the death of virginity and one more girl being safe from vampires in the night. Weird punch and a cigarette. What a way to celebrate. I’d spent most of the time going to the loo – I think he’s burst my bladder with his big cock – to check my messages, and coming out with a big fake grin on my face to cover my disappointment at my empty inbox.
The tobacco tastes horrible now I’m sober, and I don’t inhale. Only Jodie and Lizzie inhale. Does he smoke? I haven’t asked him. I mentally add it to the list of things I want to know about him. If he ever messages me again. Was he having sex last night? Was he thinking about me?
‘I’ll have to shower before I go,’ I say, as a breeze blows my smoke back at me. ‘If my mum smells this on me, she’ll go apeshit.’
‘Tell her my mum was here and smoking.’
‘It’s not worth the hassle. You know what she’s like. She forgets I’m growing up sometimes.’
The others have gone. Ange had to get home for some family lunch and Lizzie’s mum collected her half an hour ago. She’d offered me a lift too, but I can’t face my mum yet. She’ll want to talk, for me to tell her all about my night, and I’m going to have to come up with something to placate her or just storm up to my bedroom and hide under my duvet, which is what I really want to do. She makes me moody and then my being moody hurts her feelings. Anyway, it’s not ten thirty yet. If Angela hadn’t had to get up, we’d all be lounging in bed.
‘Did she never smoke?’ Jodie asks.
‘Nope. She doesn’t drink much either. And she was probably a total loser when she was my age.’ It feels disloyal but it makes me sound cooler when really I’m the mouse of our group – the most ordinary one. Maybe that’s what bothers me. Maybe me and Mum are too alike. Both boringly average.
‘At
