Lessons in Laughing Out Loud (32 page)

“I don’t think anyone’s going to ask me for ID, Dad,” Chloe said, patting her belly. “Besides, it’s not as if I’m going to be getting tanked up, is it? At least another three months before I can get drunk again!”

Chloe treated Sam to a cheeky grin, and Willow smiled inwardly. It was so nice to see the two of them this way, relaxed
together, and it was even nicer to be with them to be part of it, however much on the periphery. She watched Sam from behind as he insisted on buying all of their tickets, including Holly’s. Holly had hugged him hard back at the flat, instantly dissolving any residual tension there might have been about the fact that he’d thrown her sister out into the rain. Willow loved Holly for that, for understanding that peace with Sam was so much more important than principle, even though she knew, had she asked, that Holly would have quite happily clocked him one with the nearest blunt instrument.

Having Holly, Chloe and Sam in one place was the nearest thing to perfect that Willow had experienced for a long time. She felt stronger, and something almost close to happy. After all, these were the three people who represented the best times in her life, no matter how fleeting they had been. They were the people who gave her hope that best times were possible, and one day could even be possible for her. Holly was her one constant, her North Star, and that would never change. But when Willow thought of the happiness that always having Chloe in her life would bring her, combined with an anger-and guilt-free friendship with Sam, it gave her a panicky little feeling in her chest, that familiar fear of even daring to consider something that would give her joy. As if even visualizing a cause for happiness for even one moment would cause it to evaporate forever.

Willow closed her eyes for a second as she stood in the cold outside the pub, trying to remember the last time she was truly, purely happy. But the memory would not come, barricaded as it was behind the locked doors that Willow refused to open, shut in the darkness with thoughts she would not allow to surface. She snapped her eyes open again, shuddering, but not against the cold. Don’t spoil this, she told herself, as she watched Holly punch Sam lightly on the shoulder as she
teased him about something. Let this moment be what it is, let it be good.

Finally the queue moved in through the double doors and Willow followed the others up the stairs. Holly waited for her at the top, while Sam and Chloe went to look for a table.

“I think he’s still a dish,” Holly whispered in her ear. “I actually fancy him a bit more now.”

“You fancy Sam?” Willow whispered back, appalled.

“We are twins, darling, of course I’m going to fancy the same men that you do.”

“I don’t fancy Sam anymore.” Willow was adamant. “I wonder sometimes if I ever did, or if my head just told me I ought to because he was there.”

“Oh, you fancied him,” Holly said, giving her a long sideways look. “And you still do a bit, no matter how much you might deny it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve dressed up, and done your hair all seductive.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Willow said, although she had to admit she had paid a little extra attention to the way she looked when she was getting ready earlier, choosing a tailored shirt that accentuated her bust and waist, and a denim pencil skirt that hugged the curve of her hips perfectly, but not just because she wanted to make a good showing around her ex-husband, even if that was a little bit true. After their last conversation, Serious James’s interest in her had started to intrigue Willow; the way he saw her, the way he seemed to think about her, was so new and different to her and she was discovering she rather liked it. Whether or not she saw anything in him in return was still very much moot, but she didn’t want his interest to wane—not just yet, not until she had a chance to find out if the way he saw her was real or just another distorted reflection of the patchwork woman she had haphazardly created through years of trial and error.

“We can’t fancy the same men just because we’re twins,” Willow countered, dodging the issue. “I don’t fancy Gray at all.”

“Neither do I!” Holly told her cheerfully. “I mean, of course I do, but not in the same way as I used to. Graham and I have been together so long there aren’t any surprises left.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Willow said, looking around the room. There was a small platform stage with a single microphone standing in the middle, a single spotlight trained on it. “To be with a man for all those years, who loves you and whom you love. That’s what it’s all about, right? That’s a wonderful thing.”

“Will!” Daniel stood up, waving them over, his smile quickly fading as he saw Sam, who’d found a separate table with Chloe and had been trying to catch Willow’s eye.

“Yes, it is wonderful,” Holly agreed as she turned her gaze from Daniel to Sam. “But not nearly as interesting as every man you meet suddenly falling for you! Did you see Daniel’s face then? He’s jealous!”

“Nonsense,” Willow said, thinking of their near-miss kiss. “He’s competitive. It’s a whole different thing.”

“Come over here and sit with us,” Kayla insisted. “Bring your friends over too.”

Willow caught Sam’s eye, hoping her expression was apologetic. After a moment, with Chloe dragging him by the hand, the two of them arrived at the table, where after some judicial chair borrowing and shuffling around they were all seated, Daniel on her right and Sam on her left. Catching Holly’s very amused expression, Willow could not have been more grateful for the large gin and tonic that Sam handed her.

“Sam.” Daniel reached across her lap, extending a hand to Sam, who with jaw clenched took it.

“Daniel.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Daniel grinned at Chloe, greeting her the way that he always used to.

“Hello.” Chloe’s response was reserved to say the least. Willow didn’t think Sam had ever told Chloe all the details of why she’d left so abruptly, but she was no fool; even then she must have noticed that her stepmother and neighbor had left the building at the same time.

“Interesting times, huh?” Daniel said, nodding at the bump.

Chloe shrugged, turning her back on Daniel as she looked in the opposite direction in the most perfectly executed snub. Willow could not help but be rather proud of her.

If an awkward moment had been about to develop, beautiful, insensitive, thoughtless Kayla trampled all over it with her usual aplomb, leaning right across the table to shake hands with the newcomers.

“Hi, I’m Kayla, Daniel’s girlfriend.” Kayla smiled beautifully for Sam, who was treated to a glimpse of her small but perfectly formed breasts beneath the scoop of her cream knitted minidress, just before her honey-colored hair swept forward over her shoulders and covered her modesty. She looked divine, Willow thought, feeling rather suddenly uncomfortable in the outfit she had taken such care choosing, her fledging self-confidence dealt a severe blow by such a perfect display of a textbook-perfect body.

How Daniel could possibly think of her as being on the same planet in terms of desirability as Kayla, Willow did not know, and she remained unconvinced that he did. She remembered when he had first met Kayla, a model on a shoot he’d been working on. He’d sent Willow dozens of texts telling her the details of his attempts to seduce Kayla, asking her for tips and advice, and for a long time Kayla had resisted him, telling him that it was her policy never to date photographers as it might affect her work. Of course Daniel always wanted
what he could not have, and his pursuit of her had been relentless. Willow had never asked exactly what Daniel had done to finally win Kayla over, but she remembered receiving a text from him in the early hours one morning that read simply, “Job done.”

“How awful do you think he’ll be, Willow?” Kayla asked Willow cheerfully. “Do you think it will be like on
The X Factor,
when you want to rip your eyes out in embarrassment?” She turned to Sam. “Do you know I once had to pretend to be a singer for a video shoot, wearing nothing but a role of gaffer tape? That smarted when it came off, I can tell you! In a nice way, though.”

Kayla giggled, and Sam blushed, coughing into his pint.

“Perhaps he won’t be so bad. He can even be quite funny sometimes,” Willow said, wondering where James was now and if he’d climbed out of the window in the restroom and run away, which was exactly what she would do.

“Funny? Are you sure, Willow?” Kayla jiggled in her seat. “I’m excited. I just hope people aren’t too mean to him. He was bullied at school, you know—standing up in front of these people and getting a laugh is like his own private Everest.”

“Bullied?” Daniel chuckled. “How do you know?”

“That night you passed out on tequila in the summer, James and I had a long, dark night of the soul,” Kayla told him. “Everyone took the piss out of him because he lived with his aunt and wore eyeliner, or something.” She leaned a little closer to Willow. “That’s when he told me that he thought you were the most interesting woman he’d ever met. I was a bit offended; I thought I was bound to be the most interesting woman he’d ever met.”

“James wore eyeliner?” Daniel was aghast. “In Texas if you are a man who wears eyeliner it’s a shooting offense.”

“Hang on, isn’t he your friend? Why don’t you know this stuff?” Willow asked.

“Male friendship is not based on the knowledge of shit. It’s based on the ability to talk shit. I’ve got Willow if I ever want to talk.”

“And me,” Kayla said, under the ripple of applause that greeted the MC coming onstage. “And me, Daniel!”

Daniel ignored her. “He’s on first, poor bastard.”

Daniel looked over at Willow and smiled. It was a different sort of smile, a secret one that implied there was unfinished business between them. If Kayla or Sam had seen, she was certain they would know exactly what it meant—it meant trouble of some description, that was for sure. What would it be like to kiss Daniel again? Willow wondered. Not on some drunken self-destructive rainy afternoon, or with the false promise of artificial desire, but as equals. A man and woman who simply wanted to kiss each other, what would that be like? Willow wasn’t at all sure that such a thing was possible for either her or Daniel. They were both so used to conducting their lives in a maelstrom of self-created chaos.

“If this James has got a spot here then, he must be quite good, surely?” Sam said, shooting Daniel an irritated glance.

“Bless you, Sam.” Daniel’s smile was patronizing. “But you don’t know Serious James. He’s never been knowingly funny in his life.”

“Oh God, I feel embarrassed already, I don’t want to look. But I do.” Kayla grinned at Daniel, putting her hand on his knee. Deftly he picked it up, squeezed it and put it back in her own lap.

“And now give it up for comedy’s funniest accountant, James Baker!”

Serious James shuffled out onto the stage and stood behind the microphone, looking very much like he wished that he could hide behind it. The room fell silent, and Willow estimated he had about a minute before the crowd started to
get restless. Still he said nothing. He stood there, in a pair of unfashionable jeans and a pink shirt that he’d tucked in, his too long scruffy blond hair all over the place.

“I’m depressed,” he told the crowd suddenly, breathing into the mike.

“So am I now you’ve turned up!” someone heckled from the back. James ignored him.

“Loser,” Chloe muttered quite loudly. “I’m missing telly for this.”

Willow bit her lip, just willing him not to be terrible.

“I’m in love,” James told them, seriously. “I’m in love with this woman, but she doesn’t love me back.”

“She’s got taste!” someone yelled; the crowd chuckled.

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s bad if the hecklers are getting better laughs than the comic,” Holly observed cheerfully, sipping gin through a straw with the gay abandon of a married mother on the loose for the first time in months.

“She doesn’t even know that I love her,” James went on, taking the mike off the stand and walking a little closer to the crowd, which Willow thought was tantamount to a Christian calling, “Here, kitty,” to the lions in ancient Rome. “The problem is, when I’m around her I can’t seem to speak.”

“Shame she’s not here now!”

James’s smile was rueful. “Who says she isn’t? . . . And I’m talking love here, not lust.”

The crowd whoooed as one and Kayla reached over the table to tap Willow on the knee. “He’s talking about you, you know.”

Willow shook her head, suddenly very aware of Daniel and Sam flanking her as she took a large mouthful of gin.

“It’s not like when your penis is doing the thinking, you know, when you meet a fit girl and it keeps transmitting these thoughts to your brain that if you’re not very careful you know
what will come out of your mouth before you can stop it. You know, like when it goes, ‘Ask her to have sex with you, ask her to have sex with you.’” There was a slight titter at the back of the room. “And let’s face it, we don’t have to be in love with a girl to think that, do we, huh? We don’t even have to like her.” Willow breathed out a sigh of relief as laughter rippled around the room. “Or necessarily be in the same room . . .”