My Best Friend Has Issues (16 page)

No sooner had I put the phone down than it rang again.

‘Alison? I’ve just spoken to Charlie.’

‘Hello Ewan, yeah, I know.’ My voice was cold. ‘He just called.’

‘Is it true? Were your friends robbed and left bare naked?’

‘Apparently. Don’t know for sure. Wasn’t there. Can’t help you mate. Sorry.’

‘Alison, is something wrong? Why are you being like this?’

‘Why did you tell Charlie that Chloe was getting me into drugs?’

‘I didn’t say that exactly. Charlie told me it’ll be months, maybe a year before you’re completely recovered from the glandular fever. I just said maybe…’

‘Did you tell him you gave his wee sister her first joint? And wanted to fuck her? And to get her to suck your cock the next morning? Did you tell him that, Ewan?’

There was only his shocked inhalation in my ear.

‘No, I didn’t think so,’ I said grimly.

Once I’d hung up on him Chloe smiled and asked if I wanted a cup of tea.

‘You know Lisa and Lauren have to pay two thousand pounds each for being repatriated?’ I asked.

‘No,’ said Chloe dispassionately, ‘I did not know that.’

Dear Lisa and Lauren, I’m so sorry about the dreadful mix-up. I hear you had a bit of an adventure! Not to worry, all’s well that end’s well. I’m sure you’ll look back on it and laugh. Hope you’re both fine and see you soon, lots of love, Alison xxx.

Chloe brought me my tea.

‘So: now that we know they’ve left town, why don’t we go out for lunch to celebrate?’ she said. ‘We can go anywhere, your call, my treat. Let’s go somewhere delicious. Where d’you wanna go?’

‘I can’t be bothered going out.’

It wasn’t like me not to go along with Chloe’s wishes. She was as surprised as I was and put up a strong argument.

‘But we gotta go out!’ she yelled, almost stamping her feet. ‘We’ve been holed up here for days. There’s nothing left to eat and I’m hungry.’

‘You go. I’m not hungry.’

‘We have to get out of this apartment, it’s driving me crazy. I can’t stand it any longer with that fucking dead dog on the terrace, I’m getting cabin fever, I have to get out of here.’

‘Then go out, but I’m staying.’

To stop any further argument I went to the bedroom and lay on the bed. A few minutes later I heard the front door slam hard but I was too tired and too fed up to worry about Chloe.

When I woke up later she still wasn’t back. I lay dozing and fretting, trying to get things into proportion. It wasn’t so bad. No one had died – unusual where I was involved – and Lisa and Lauren had been taught a lesson. But I still felt guilty.

Chloe hadn’t got me into drugs. I wanted to get into them. I wanted to be the same, to do the same things as everyone else my age. I liked smoking maria, I liked the giggles we had when we’d had a joint and the nice, relaxed way I felt and the great sleep I always got. I loved cocaine. Careful to use it only occasionally, I was far from being addicted, but I loved the way coke made me feel so confident. Ecstasy was probably my favourite. I loved the way ecstasy made me fall in love with everybody, the way it made me just say what I felt. It did make me blurt out things occasionally, like telling Chloe I was a virgin, but that was fine, she was okay about it. Whenever I’d had ecstasy I always liked getting stuff off my chest, not having to keep it in like it was a secret.

But it was true that the drugs weren’t good for my health. I didn’t tell Chloe but sometimes, the next day after we’d had a few
lines, I felt really ill. I’d seen the adverts on telly; I knew what it was doing to my system, especially my heart.

I got out of bed. I was going to do it, I knew I was, I’d known for a while, there was no point in worrying about it or putting it off any longer.

I put my hand into the back of the cupboard. The tin was still there. Including the last time I’d visited it, my debt was now running at seven hundred euros. Chloe had already been so generous, she’d never asked for a penny in rent and she’d given me all those fabulous clothes. Nine times out of ten she paid for everything. That tenth time however, when I paid, was a killer. Even occasionally funding this lifestyle meant I was now broke again. I couldn’t keep this up. Sooner or later she’d find out. Being a habitual drug user and a thief wasn’t good for my nerves or my health.

The contents looked the same, thank God, untouched since I’d last been here. I teased out another three hundred-euro notes from the bundle. Now I’d taken a nice round figure, a thousand.

As I was closing the tin I heard movement in the corridor outside the flat. Chloe had come back. There wasn’t time to get the tin back in the cupboard. She was going to walk in on me. I shut my eyes tight. As I waited for the door to open I broke out in a sweat and my heart battered my ribs.

But nothing happened.

There were a few more sounds, coming from further down the stairwell; it must be Mrs Garcia washing the stairs.

I ran all the way to the travel agency. There was a queue. Four people ahead of me, only two desks staffed. There was the usual
too-hot-to-hurry
attitude in the customers and staff. I had a panic about whether or not I’d brought my passport. I rifled through every compartment of my bag, twice, until I found it. I
had
brought it, I knew I had. The queue took ages. After twenty minutes I thought about leaving and trying another place. One of the agents spoke English, I heard her make a leisurely paced reservation on the phone. If I went somewhere else, they might not speak English. I didn’t know all the words in Spanish. I’d have to stay here. Finally
I got to the desk. There were still seats available. The ticket would be three hundred and fifteen euros.

‘But it’s three hundred, my brother looked it up an hour ago,’ I wailed.

‘This is internet price,’ she smilingly explained. ‘In shop is three fifteen.’

I had a ten-euro note in my purse, four fifty-centimo pieces and another twenty-four cents in fives, tens and ones. The girl smiled again, apologetically this time. I tipped my bag out on the floor and knelt down sorting through it. I found a two-euro coin. It wasn’t enough.

‘Yes,’ the girl said, ‘is okay.’

I had to get back to the flat before Chloe came home. If I got back before her I could get into bed and pretend to have slept all day.

As I left the travel agents I braced myself against the possibility of running into her outside. What the hell would I say? Luckily the coast was clear. The day was hot, in the thirties. Everyone in the street moved in slow motion, not wanting to sweat their clothes. My clothes were already soaked; my face felt red and my hair clung to my neck. The underarms of my pink top had turned a deep maroon, embarrassing, but that was the least of my problems. Dodging the slow-coaches, I had to run all the way back to the flat.

As I ran I heaved for every breath, sucking at the damp Barcelona air, and made it back to the flat in under ten minutes. I ran up the stairs a flight at a time, gasping on every landing, getting my breath back and rushing at the next flight. This place was falling apart. All the time I’d lived here no one had ever come to even look at the broken lift, never mind fix it. My head was throbbing with the pressure and the heat and the stress.

I might as well have strolled back. As I put my key in the lock I realised that Chloe was already there.

I couldn’t believe my rotten luck. I’d only been gone about an hour.

‘Hey Alison! Where’ve you been?’ she called from the kitchen.

She sounded friendly enough but that didn’t mean anything.

‘Sorry Chloe, I’m absolutely bursting!’ I called.

I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. I stood behind it, holding my breath and listening. I heard her in the kitchen: plates and glasses being moved around, the fridge door opening and closing. Based on these noises it was difficult to read her mood.

I couldn’t let her see me puffed out like this; she’d know right away something was wrong. I looked at myself in the mirror and nearly laughed. What a state. My cheeks were purple and my eyes were bulging. My hair was clamped to my head. I looked as if I was about to burst a blood vessel. I ran the cold tap and stuck my head under it. I had to get my breath back and cool down. I concentrated on taking deep breaths and slowing my heart. Then I had a truly horrible thought.

I couldn’t remember if I’d put the biscuit tin back in the
cupboard.
Covering your tracks was a pretty important part of theft; surely I would’ve made it a priority? But I had no memory of doing it. Perhaps in my rush to get the ticket I’d left it lying on the bedroom floor.

But maybe Chloe hadn’t been in the bedroom yet. Maybe she’d gone straight to the kitchen to fix something to eat; that’s why she sounded cheerful.

After five minutes I was still red-faced and breathing too fast but I had to come out of the bathroom. She’d notice if I stayed in
there too long. And anyway, if I could get to the bedroom before her, maybe I could hide the tin. I listened again at the door. She was still in the kitchen, still pottering.

I turned the key silently. Slowly and carefully I pulled the handle down and opened the door.

‘Alison!’ Chloe cried, rushing at me with her arms raised.

She meant to hit me. I flinched, trying to protect my face. But she threw her arms around me and kissed my hot cheek.

‘Oh, I’m so glad you came back. I thought you’d gone to the airport.’

‘The airport?’

‘To fly to Scotland.’

‘No, I…’ I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.

‘Look, I picked up the mail. Aged P sent the prospectus for Berkeley. You were right; they do have an art faculty! There’s an arts foundation, a fine arts degree and all kinds of postgraduate stuff. Listen to this:
recent fine art graduates have exhibited throughout the United States and Europe.’

While she was reading I shuffled from one foot to the other.

‘Yeah, I know, that’s what I thought, but wait till you hear this:
Gozie Joe Adigwe enhanced her reputation with her award-winning exhibit at the Venice Biennale while Marcus Blair has won the
esteemed
New York New Talent award. These and others are scheduled to exhibit next year in the Guggenheim gallery in Bilbao
. I mean: the Guggenheim!’

I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, I was only half listening. Maybe I’d missed a bit, but I could tell from the way she said

‘Guggenheim’ what kind of reaction she expected.

‘Wow!’ I said.

‘So, whattaya say?’ Chloe said, and dug me in the ribs playfully.

‘Eh, I don’t know.’

‘Shut up!’

Chloe launched herself at me, tickling under my arms. At least she was in a good mood, if a bit manic.

‘I
know
you wanna! You and my dad have been plotting the whole summer long. You’re the one that suggested the art course.
So okay, you win, we’ll go. If you still want to. Do you? Tell me you still want to come to Berkeley.’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Then tell me. Say it.’

‘I want to come to Berkeley.’

Chloe flew at me again. She grabbed both my hands and jumped up and down on the spot.

‘It’s gonna be so great! We’ll get an apartment on campus and a car, we need a car in California, and we can go visit my mom on the weekends, and, and it’s gonna be so great!’

We both jumped up and down. Chloe tugged on my arm. ‘Come and see what I bought,’ she said, excited, hauling me towards the living room.

‘I’ll come in a minute,’ I said vaguely. The last thing I wanted was her following me into the bedroom. ‘I just want to change my top.’

Chloe trotted off happily to the living room.

‘So where did you go?’ she called.

‘I just went out for a walk.’

As soon as I’d said it I realised how false this sounded. I’d never once taken a walk without the dog. I waited for the inevitable question, scouring my mind for a likely explanation as to why I hadn’t taken Juegita, but the question never came.

In the bedroom the tin was nowhere in sight. Either she’d found it or I had remembered to put it away. For the sake of my sanity I’d have to go with the latter. I quickly hid my plane ticket at the back of my underwear drawer, changed my top, looked in the mirror, and took a deep breath before I had to go back to the living room.

I could have a place at university in America: an apartment, a car, a career, a future in the sunshine.

But I’d just bought my ticket back to Scotland.

Things were changing faster than I was able to process and Chloe was about to hit me with another bombshell.

The living room floor was strewn with stuff.

‘I figure that now we can leave the flat without being stalked by naked people,’ said Chloe, ‘and before the dog actually explodes, we bury her. Tonight.’

‘Okay,’ I said.

I was glad to have something other than my Scotland/California dilemma to think about. A lavish funeral for a dead puppy, that was certainly new.

‘I’ve been all over the city and I’ve found some great stuff to decorate the grave, see?’

Laid out on the floor were ten little votive candles in red glasses, a bag of beautiful seashells and a four-foot-tall potted rose bush.

‘It doesn’t have flowers yet but when they come out they’ll be sweet little white ones. Look,’ she said, showing me the card attached, ‘that’s what they’ll look like. I thought white was
appropriate,
respectful.’

‘Yes,’ I said, nodding my approval.

‘And for a casket, I thought this.’

Chloe pointed to an ornately carved wooden box.

‘It’s a jewellery box but if you take out the liners it’s quite a good size. Think Fanny’ll fit in there?’

‘Och yeah, I think so, if she’s not bloated up too much.’

‘Eeuw, shut up, Alison.’

‘Sorry. No, I think it’s a lovely gesture.’

Chloe came and hugged me.

‘Come on now, cheer up, we’ll give Fanny a nice send-off, huh?’

I nodded, ‘You’re such a kind person, Chloe. I don’t deserve a friend as good as you.’

‘Sure you do,’ she laughed and rocked me in her arms. ‘Everybody deserves a good friend. Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up. After I got the prospectus I got kinda excited and needed a sugar
hit. I think I went a bit crazy but you’re soooo gonna love the goodies I got.’

We went into the kitchen. I thought she was talking about drugs. I wasn’t in the mood. But the goodies turned out to be sweet and savoury snacks, loads of them.

‘How the hell did you get all this lot up the stairs?’

‘I tipped the cab driver to help me bring it up.’

There was a huge round pastry coated in fine sugar, an
ensaymada
, in a box from a posh bakery, and a grease-spotted bag of pastries, nut-laden, fruit-filled, sugar-coated. There were
churros
: long sugar donuts, chocolate-filled or chocolate-coated. There were crisps, three giant bags.

‘And look!’ she said, pulling open the ice box in the fridge and pulling out a packet of frozen fish fingers.

No one had ever tried so hard to please me.

‘Here, knock yourself out,’ she said, and pushed a
churro
into my mouth.

The sweet greasy smell was making me feel sick but I had to eat something after all the trouble Chloe had gone to. The chance of a lifetime had just been offered to me but I only felt guilty and miserable. Feeding my misery, I nibbled my way through the chocolate
churro
, half a packet of crisps and an almond slice.

‘Anyway,’ I said, beginning to feel better, ‘I thought you were anorexic.’

‘Bulimic,’ she corrected me. ‘But I told you, I’m in recovery. I still pig out occasionally, I just don’t sick up any more.’

‘And that’s progress?’

It was too hot to go out on to the terrace and anyway, Fanny was out there. Inside, the AC was turned all the way up. We moved the snacks through to the living room and put on one of the latest rom-com DVDs Chloe had brought from the hire shop. With the snacks in easy reach we lay sprawled on the couch.

After all the stress of the day, watching a movie was just what I needed. Absently munching my way through bags of crisps felt like being back in Cumbernauld: safe, comforting. It felt like home.

We’d have to wait until it got dark before we could start the funeral anyway.

‘Do we have spades?’

‘Yeah,’ said Chloe, engrossed in the movie, pointing distractedly to another polythene bag. I reached over and pulled it towards me. Inside were two bright yellow kiddies’ beach spades. I didn’t say anything. We were at an important scene in the film.

Because it had been such a hot cloudless day it took a long time to get dark. We were halfway through the next movie when Chloe decided it was time to go.

‘Oh, let’s wait until this one’s finished,’ I moaned. ‘Or even better, we could get up early, say five or six, set the alarm clock, and do it in the morning.’

‘Set the alarm clock?’ said Chloe, incredulous.

‘Yeah, I know it’s a new concept but we’d have the advantage of it being light.’

‘And the disadvantage of witnesses. I don’t think it’s legal to bury dogs in public parks. Why do I feel you’re not with me on this, Alison?’

‘I am, but…’

‘Well, come on then. Look, you can borrow this skirt and wear it with my black Versace top.’

‘What are you wearing?’

‘Black Versace dress.’

‘So, let me get this straight: we’re taking all this stuff to the park, the candles, the shells, the enormous rose bush…’

‘And Fanny,’ Chloe interjected.

‘And Fanny. We’re sneaking into the park in the dead of night and digging a hole with plastic spades, and,
and
,’ I stopped to make sure she was following, ‘we’re doing it in Versace.’

‘Versace widow’s weeds. Pretty cool, huh?’

‘Can we do it tomorrow? Please?’

‘No, we do it now. I’m sick of that rotting corpse on my terrace. There’s all kinds of gases and shit building up there, if we leave it any longer the thing’s gonna explode.’

‘Honestly Chloe, I don’t feel very well, I’ve eaten too much.’

‘Barf then.’

‘I can’t, I’ve never made myself sick, I wouldn’t know how.’

‘It’s easy. Put your toothbrush down your throat, I’ll show you. I’ll do it for you if you want.’

‘Thanks,’ I said sarcastically. ‘You’re a real pal.’

She was serious. Chloe went immediately to the bathroom and came back with my toothbrush.

‘No, I can’t. Even the idea of it makes me feel sick. Anyway, that way lies bulimia. I don’t want to end up like you.’

‘Hey!’ said Chloe and rushed out the room again. She came back with the foil packet of pills. ‘Eca stacks! A few of these babies’ll burn it off real quick.’ Chloe popped a handful out of the foil, necked them and swigged from her Coke can ‘Here you go.’

She passed me four tablets and I studied them in my hand. Taking these had to be better than sicking up. They hadn’t done Lisa and Lauren any harm. While Chloe changed into her black dress I swallowed the pills one by one and watched the movie to the end. She came back in her tight black Versace number, chopping coke on her wee vanity mirror.

‘This’ll get you up and at ‘em,’ she said, passing me the line she’d chopped.

I didn’t think so. The sore head I’d had all day was still a
background
thud in my brain. The rubbish I’d stuffed myself with was nice at the time but the sugar rush had passed. Now I only felt the Versace skirt uncomfortably tight and my belly full of gas. As I held the plastic straw to my nose and inhaled, I felt the familiar tingle I loved so much. My lungs opened and my body felt light and strong. I could do anything.

If I went to California, I’d have a wonderful time with Chloe. I’d see a doctor and get my glandular fever checked over. They had great doctors in America. I’d explain to Chloe that I had to stop taking drugs, just until I’d recovered. She’d
understand
.

If I decided to go back to Scotland, I’d pack my bag and sneak out tomorrow morning while she was sleeping. I’d send back every centimo I owed her. She’d be cool about me taking it, she’d understand. We’d still be friends.

Whatever I did, it was going to be okay. Chloe wasn’t going to find out about the money. My vital organs weren’t going to pack up. Everything was going to be okay.