‘Hey, Lou Lou.’ Jenny threw herself on Louisa, leaving bright red lipstick smudges on her cheeks. She was wearing a purple silk jumpsuit with towering gold strappy sandals and a matching belt around her tiny waist. Her hair was everywhere. Sadie was almost wearing a silver Hervé Léger bandage dress.
‘Hi,’ she breathed, leaning ever so slightly forward to suggest air kisses on both of my cheeks. ‘I just flew in from London. I’m really fucking tired.’
‘It’s good to see you too,’ I replied. Sadie was a model. This meant she occasionally forgot how actual humans were supposed to act in social situations. ‘Merry Christmas.’
She blinked twice, moved her mouth into a smile that didn’t meet her eyes and then whispered something to Jenny before vanishing.
‘She OK?’ Louisa asked.
‘Sure.’ Jenny waved away our concerns and waved over a waiter. ‘She’s just gonna go do some coke and then she’ll be fine.’
‘Oh.’ Louisa looked startled for a moment before resetting her face. ‘Is that … is that normal?’
‘Not for normal people,’ I replied on Jenny’s behalf before she said something that might upset Louisa’s delicate, suburban temperament. ‘If I’m a bit tired, I have a Diet Coke and a sit down. But Sadie isn’t normal people.’
‘Fair enough,’ Lou muttered, looking around the party with new eyes, trying to work out who was just a regular Manhattanite and who was a raging gak head. Following her gaze, it actually wasn’t that hard to tell.
‘So what’s going on, Lou Lou?’ Jenny asked, taking a glass of champs from the waiter. I wondered how many bottles Erin had ordered and whether or not France was worried about running out. ‘Have you spoken to that dirtbag husband of yours?’
Lou coloured up slightly, far too English to consider such a conversation at the party of someone she barely knew. But unfortunately for her, Jenny wasn’t concerned about such things. Or, actually, any things.
‘Not yet,’ she admitted. ‘Honestly, I’d rather not talk about it tonight. Can we just have a lovely night out and talk about it tomorrow?’
‘Sure,’ Jenny replied in an unprecedented display of tact and understanding. ‘Do you guys have plans tomorrow night? Shall we get dinner? Make it a real girls’ night?’
‘Oh, I’d like that,’ Louisa nodded. ‘Are you free, Angela?’
I nodded. ‘I have to be at work again but I can be out at a decent time,’ I replied. ‘And you know Jesse in my office? His band is playing. He said he’d put us on the list if we wanted to go and see them play?’
‘Jesse?’ Jenny’s eyes sparkled. ‘I don’t remember a Jesse. Is he hot?’
‘I suppose so,’ I said, trying not to blush. ‘But I have to work with him so can you try not to accidentally fall on his penis right away?’
‘Honey, it’s never an accident,’ she said, finishing her drink with a loud smacking sound. Classy gal. ‘And I make no promises.’
‘I need a wee,’ Louisa whispered as Jenny waved the waiter back before he’d even got halfway around the room. ‘That girl’s not going to make me do drugs in there, is she?’
‘No,’ I promised. ‘As I understand it, she’s not that generous with her coke anyway. You can pee. Just remember, just say no.’
‘I’m gonna find some food. You want anything?’ Jenny asked, reaching out to sweep away an unseen smudge on my cheek. ‘You look beautiful, by the way.’
‘I’m OK, thanks,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’ll be here.’
‘Things all good?’ she asked, leaning her head to one side. I knew her Dr Jenny, amateur psychologist pose very well. ‘You seem a little off.’
‘Just work stress,’ I shrugged. I didn’t keep things from Jenny. She always knew exactly how to help me work through my problems but how could she help me with this? Here she was, desperate for a baby but without a dependable man in her life, and here I was, married with a happy husband ready to knock me up as soon as I said shoot and the only thing standing in the way of us getting pregnant tomorrow was me.
‘I knew it,’ Jenny said with a grimace. ‘It’s Cici, right? She’s already being a total fucking troll? That’s it, I’m having her killed. Happy Christmas, that’s your gift – I’m putting a hit out on that bitch.’
‘I’ve thought about it but there’s too much of a chance they’d get Delia by accident,’ I laughed. ‘Really, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, just need another couple of drinks.’
‘Then I will make sure you have them,’ she promised. ‘Can’t have my Angie pouting at Christmas, it’s too weird.’
I watched her go, feeling weirdly better and worse at the same time, before turning on my increasingly painful heel and stumbling off into the next room. Another tastefully decorated tree, slightly smaller than the last, sat in the corner of the room and groups of people, some I recognised, most I didn’t, stood talking and laughing and clinking glasses. I had just found a quiet corner complete with comfy sofa when I spotted Alex stroll into the room, searching, presumably, for me. I waved silently, trying to get his attention without attracting anyone else’s, and then ducked down, sprawling out on the sofa. As much as it was possible to sprawl in skintight sequins and two pairs of Spanx.
‘Hey there, you,’ he said, a tired expression on his handsome face. ‘Hiding already? We’ve only been here for ten minutes.’
‘Says you,’ I said, clinking my glass against his. ‘You’re bored of the boys already?’
‘I’m not banging groupies, we’re not going skiing and I have not improved my golf handicap since Erin and Thomas’s wedding,’ he replied, ‘and so we ran out of shit to talk about pretty quickly.’
‘You don’t play golf,’ I said, frowning. ‘And you don’t bang groupies.’
‘Both things that disappointed the fellas.’ Alex sipped his champagne and closed his eyes. ‘What brought you in here? You OK?’
I took a quick, deep breath and readied myself. This was it. This was the time to tell him about Dr Laura’s call, to ask him to come to the doctor’s office with me and hold his hand and have him make everything better.
‘Everything’s fine,’ I said, ignoring the angel on my shoulder who was repeatedly slapping me around the face. ‘Did you have a fun day? I’m sorry you got stuck on Louisa-sitting duty.’
‘I don’t mind.’ He rested his hand on my bare thigh. ‘It’s like hanging out with you, if only you still thought you had to make an effort to be nice to me. And Grace is awesome.’
‘Yay,’ I replied weakly.
‘I asked Louisa what was going on with Tim.’ Alex reached up to loosen his tie a little, simultaneously and unconsciously tightening my ovaries.
‘And what did she say?’
Clever Alex. Of course he could get away with just asking the question the rest of us were pussyfooting around, he had a penis. Penises had no tact.
‘She said everything is fine and that she talked to him earlier but she was kinda vague and dismissive.’ He sounded doubtful. ‘I asked if she needed any help getting shit organised to fly back to the UK but she just went quiet and changed the subject.’
‘Lou is a big believer in not addressing anything that she doesn’t have to,’ I acknowledged. ‘Very big into stiff upper lips.’
Alex nodded and idly ran his hand up and down my leg. ‘I don’t think she’s talked to Tim, though. Kinda smelled like bullshit.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ I said. ‘Whatever’s going on, I don’t believe he’d be all super cool about her and Grace nicking off to America without telling him. I’m sure I would have had a passive-aggressive phone call by now.’
‘Maybe you could talk to him and find out?’ Alex asked. ‘Like, maybe email him or something?’
‘I could but she’d kill me.’ I shook my head. ‘At best, I’d be interfering which is enough to get me a slap and if she really hasn’t called him, she might just go for broke and kill me.’
‘Sometimes friends interfering isn’t so bad,’ he said, meeting my eyes with a smile. We’d definitely had more than one helping hand along the way, whether we liked it or not, but Louisa was not me. I was a bit useless and not terribly good at saying what needed to be said. Lou was so proud and, generally speaking, a far more capable human being than me. While I occasionally needed some sense slapping into me, Louisa was far more likely to slap you right back.
‘I’ll talk to her tomorrow.’ I peeped inside my handbag at the blank screen of my new-old iPhone. ‘Even if she hasn’t called him, realistically, how long can this go on? It’s Christmas in a week, I think he’s going to notice if she’s not there.’
‘Depends whether or not Louisa is right about him cheating,’ Alex theorised. ‘If you took off with my kid in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t sleep until I knew where you were. Tim doesn’t seem to be trying that hard to get them back, even if he thinks they’re with her mom. Don’t you think that’s weird?’
‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘But Tim wouldn’t call Louisa’s mother unless his life depended on it. She’s a right old cow.’
‘I guess I got lucky with your folks,’ Alex said.
I waited a moment for the punch line.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Never mind,’ I replied. Bloody men.
‘And I’m not complaining about having Gracie around,’ he smiled, nudging my foot with his, unaware of the agony I was currently suffering. ‘It’s good to get some practice in, right?’
‘I told you I’m not getting you a baby for Christmas,’ I said, ignoring the sharp pain in my gut and the tears burning behind my eyes. ‘It’s in a week and they take ages to order.’
‘Maybe we should get home soon and practise then.’ The hand on my thigh slid upwards, underneath the hem of my skirt. ‘Make sure we’re doing it right.’
My stomach flipped as I pushed his hand away gently and stood up, ready to make a hasty, tear-free dash for the bathroom. I needed extra time in my heels.
‘Hands to yourself, Reid,’ I said, as lightly as possible. ‘I’m off to the bathroom. If you really want to go, I don’t mind. You didn’t have to come, I know you hate it.’
‘I don’t hate it.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s just not what I would do with my Wednesday if I had a choice. Because if I had a choice …’
‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ I leaned against the door frame, half to look cute and half so that I didn’t fall over. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too,’ he said. ‘Now go pee. This is a really nice house and I don’t want to have to explain any accidents to the stockbroker boys. They’re already disappointed in me as it is.’
On my way out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, I caught sight of Louisa. She was stood with her back against the wall, almost pinned into position by one of Thomas’s douchier co-workers. I remembered him from Erin’s wedding and as far as I could tell, his only redeeming feature was that he was friends with Erin. The man was so utterly charmless and bland that I now couldn’t remember his name. Jenny hadn’t even bothered to learn it on the day and had christened him Douchenozzle for the want of something more memorable. I started over to rescue Lou but as I tottered on, I realised she was smiling. And not only smiling but laughing. Every time the Douchenozzle opened his mouth, she threw back her head and gave a crazy throaty laugh that I’d never heard from her before. In fact, the only person I had heard it from was Jenny Lopez, the Man Whisperer. I stopped beside a small coffee table and scooped up a handful of nuts, ignored the fact that they weren’t dry roasted as they should be, and watched, curious.
Whatever they were talking about was apparently the most fascinating and hilarious thing Louisa had ever heard. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks glowed pink against her pale skin, set off by my sparkly Marc by Marc Jacobs jumper and her skinny black trousers. I watched as she crossed and uncrossed her ankles, obviously a lot more comfortable in the Jimmy Choos she had borrowed from Jenny than I was in my own shoes. I leaned against the arm of a duck-egg blue Eames chair and smiled a little. It was nice to see her looking happy. What harm could a little flirtation do? Maybe it would do her good to chat to another man for five minutes, help her remember what she was missing at home. Which was a perfectly good theory until I watched her reach up to brush some invisible lint off Douchey McDouche’s shoulder with her left hand. A hand that was noticeably less sparkly than it had been fifteen minutes earlier. She had taken off her wedding ring.
‘Louisa,’ I barked, pushing up off the chair and marching over, ignoring the burning in the bottom of my feet. ‘There you are.’ I forcibly inserted myself between my best friend and Douchnozzle with a dark look on my face. ‘Sorry,’ I said, without sounding the least bit apologetic. ‘I need a minute with my bestie here. You don’t mind?’
He paused and looked over my shoulder at Louisa, clearly upset at being shunted out of what he had thought was a sure thing.
‘It’s my period,’ I shouted. ‘I need to talk to her about my period. Which I’m having.’
He backed away, slowly at first and then very, very quickly, not uttering a single word. Louisa on the other hand had several words ready and none of them were very nice.
‘What the bloody hell was that?’ she screeched as I took the glass of champagne out of her hand and knocked it back in two big gulps. ‘I was bloody talking to him. And you haven’t got your period. What the bloody hell, Angela?’
‘Louisa,’ I said, giving her back the empty glass, ‘where is your wedding ring?’
My best friend glanced down at her bare hand and reddened, her cheeks flushing from pale pink to a beet-red stain.
‘You think everything is so easy.’ She stared at me for a moment, as though she was about to say something else, but instead she pushed straight past me and marched across the room to the French doors.
It was below freezing and beginning to snow on the streets of Manhattan but behind the high garden walls of the wealthy, unseen outside heaters meant it was spring-like all year round, even as the snowflakes fluttered to the ground. Louisa barged past a group of smokers, not bothering to apologise. I followed, delayed by my footwear, and found her literally fuming. Louisa was smoking. An actual cigarette.
‘Lou!’ I hadn’t seen her smoke since Freshers’ Week, back when it was both big and clever. ‘You don’t smoke!’
‘I don’t do a lot of things, Angela,’ she pointed out. ‘And I’m sick of it.’
‘So you’re going to start smoking?’ I asked. ‘Couldn’t you start with something ever so slightly less carcinogenic?’