luck to them. Those heady nights in crowded bars with Charlie and his friends had never really suited her.
Checking the calendar, Beth bit back a sigh. She was overdue a weekend visit to the bay, not that Eleanor would ever scold or complain about how much time it had been since she’d last seen her. She’d tuck Beth onto the sofa with a cup of tea and listen avidly to all the goings on in her life. Not that there’d been much of anything to report other than work lately. Unless she counted the disastrous Christmas visit to see her mum and Reg in Florida, and Beth had spent the entire month of January trying to forget it.
Even surrounded by Charlie’s upper-class pals she’d never felt more like a fish out of water than she had during that week of perma-tanned brunches and barbecues. She would much rather have gone back to Lavender Bay and Eleanor’s loving warmth, but Linda had organised a huge party to celebrate her tenth wedding anniversary to Reg, and insisted she needed Beth by her side. Having people believe she had the perfect family had always mattered more to Linda than making it a reality.
With a silent promise to call Eleanor for a long chat on Sunday, Beth drained her tea and turned back to her work. The dreaded contents of the file Darren had dumped on her had to be better than thinking about than the surprise date her mum had set her up with on New Year’s Eve. She glanced across the partition between their desks. Ravi might be gay, but at least he had all his own teeth and didn’t dye his hair an alarming shade Beth had only been able to describe to a hysterical Eliza and Libby as ‘marmalade’.
Ravi caught her eye and smiled. ‘Hey, Beth?’ He pointed to the phone tucked against his ear. ‘Callum wants to know if you’re busy on Sunday. We’re having a few friends around for a bite to eat. Nothing fancy.’ They exchanged a grin. Nothing fancy in Callum’s terms would be four courses followed by a selection of desserts.
‘Sounds great. Can I let you guys know tomorrow?’ It wasn’t like she had anything else planned, but going on Darren’s past record, whatever was hiding in the file he’d dumped on her would likely mean she’d be working most of the weekend.
Ravi nodded and conveyed her reply into the handset. He rolled his eyes at something Callum said in reply and Beth propped her hands on her hips. ‘If he’s telling you about this great guy he knows who’d be just perfect for me then I’m not coming. Not even for a double helping of dessert.’ The only person more disastrous at matchmaking than her mother was Callum.
Her friend laughed. ‘You’re busted!’ he said into the phone then tilted it away from his mouth to say to Beth in a teasing, sing-song voice, ‘He’s a very fine man with good prospects. All his own teeth!’ She closed her eyes, regretting confessing all about the New Year’s date to Ravi on their first day back after the Christmas break. He’d never let her live it down.
She shook her head. ‘Aren’t they all? I’ll message you tomorrow.’ Which was as good as accepting the invitation. There was always a good mix at their parties and the atmosphere would be relaxed. Leaving Ravi to finish off his conversation, she turned her attention to the dreaded file.
Three hours and several coins added to the swear jar on her desk later, she decided she had enough information together to be able to complete the required draft report and presentation at home. Darren had left the office on the dot of five, laughing with his usual pack of cronies as they made their way towards the lifts. He’d not even bothered to check in with her on his way out, assuming she would do whatever was necessary to ensure their department was ready for the client meeting on Tuesday. The project had been passed to him by one of the directors a fortnight previously, but either through incompetence or arrogance he’d chosen to do absolutely nothing with it.
Stuffing the file, a stack of printouts, and her phone into the backpack she used in lieu of a handbag, Beth swapped her heels for the comfy trainers under her desk and disconnected her laptop from the desk terminal. Coat on and scarf tucked around the lower half of her face, she waved goodnight to Sandie, the cleaner, and trudged out of the office.
The worst of the commuting crowd had thinned so at least she had a seat on the train as it hurtled through the dank Victorian tunnels of the Underground. The heating had been turned up full blast against the February chill but, like most of the hardened travellers around her, Beth ignored the sweat pooling at the base of her spine and kept her eyes glued on the screen of her phone. Music filled her ears from the buds she’d tucked in the moment she’d stepped on board, drowning out the scritch-scritch of a dozen other people doing exactly the same thing.
She never felt further from home than when crammed in with a load of strangers who made ignoring each other into an artform. In Lavender Bay everyone waved, nodded or smiled at each other, and passing someone you knew without stopping for a ten-minute chat was unthinkable. After three years in London, there were people she recognised on her regular commute, but they’d never acknowledged each other. Nothing would point a person out as not belonging faster than being so gauche as to strike up a conversation on public transport.
The anonymity had appealed at first, a sign of the sophistication of London where people were too busy doing important stuff to waste their precious time with inane conversations. Not knowing the daily minutiae of her friends and neighbours, the who’d said what to whom, was something she’d never expected to miss quite so much. Having everyone in her business had seemed unbearable throughout her teenage years, especially with a mother like Linda. But on nights like this, knowing even the people who shared the sprawling semi in the leafy suburbs where she rented a room for an eyewatering amount wouldn’t be interested in anything other than whether she’d helped herself to their milk, loneliness rode her hard.
Cancelling the impending pity party, Beth swayed with the motion of the train as she made her way towards the doors when they approached her station. A quick text to Eliza and Libby would chase the blues away. The odds of either of them having Friday night plans were as slim as her own so a Skype chat could probably be arranged. Smiling at the thought, she stepped out of the shelter of the station and into the freezing January evening air.
Clad in a pair of her cosiest pyjamas, Beth settled cross-legged in the centre of her bed as she waited for her laptop to connect to the app. The piles of papers she’d been working from for the past hour had been replaced by the reheated takeaway she’d picked up on her way home, and a large bottle of ice-cold Sauvignon Blanc. With perfect timing, Eliza’s sweetly-beaming face popped up in one corner of her screen just as Beth shovelled a forkful of chow mien into her mouth. ‘Mmmpf.’ Not the most elegant of greetings, but it served to spread that smile into an outright laugh.
‘Hello, Beth, darling!’ Eliza glanced back over her shoulder as though checking no one was behind her then leaned in towards the camera to whisper. ‘I’m so glad you texted. Martin’s obsessed with this latest bloody game of his, so you’ve saved me from an evening of pretending to be interested in battle spells and troll hammers.’ She rolled her eyes then took a swig from an impressively large glass of rosé to emphasise her point.
Fighting her natural instinct to say something derogatory about her best friend’s husband, Beth contented herself with a mouthful of her own wine. It wasn’t that she disliked Martin, per se. It was almost impossible to dislike someone so utterly inoffensive, she just wished her friend didn’t seem so unhappy. The two of them had made a sweet couple at school, but Beth had always assumed the attraction would wear off once Eliza gained a bit more confidence and expanded her horizons beyond the delicate wash of purple fields encircling their home town.
When Martin had chosen the same university as them both though, her friend had declared herself delighted so Beth had swallowed her misgivings and watched as they progressed to an engagement and then marriage. They’d moved north for Martin’s job and fallen into a kind of domestic routine more suited to a middle-aged couple. Eliza never said a word against him, other than the odd jokey comment about
