My Best Friend's Girl (6 page)

They’d told all their friends. Relatives from abroad were planning to fly in. They’d done their share of helping me to prepare. My mum had been searching for the perfect outfit and there I was, saying it was all for nothing. All that hard work for nothing. Although they never actually said it, I knew they were thinking,
What did you do wrong, Kamryn?

My siblings and my friends were more understanding. Most of them said that if it wasn’t right, it wasn’t right, but I knew they all wanted to know the real reason for our split. Was he cheating? Was I cheating? Had he hit me? Had I panicked? Had he discovered something hideous about me at the last minute? Everyone was supportive but I knew I could never be honest with them. I could never say to another human being: “My fiancé and my best friend made a child.”

That was what Adele and Nate had done. I wasn’t simply hurt by them having sex, I was humiliated, disgraced and, ultimately, isolated. When you can’t be honest with people, you can’t ever relax with them in case you let something slip. I couldn’t have stayed in London, among the friends and elements of that life, even if I wanted to. It would have been too hard on a daily basis hiding what had happened.

Tegan stirred and I held my breath in case she awoke. A dozen little expressions flitted across her face as her dream played itself out, then she settled back into sleep.

Del knew what a ginormous thing she was asking of me when she made the request to adopt Tegan. She knew I couldn’t look at Tegan the same ever again. I sent her Christmas and birthday presents, I sent her postcards if I went abroad, I bought her little gifts that I posted off to London. All done from a distance. At no point did I have to look at her while I made those contacts. To look at her would be to remember what my two favorite people had done. And to remember how I hurt the day it had all come out. How I’d hurt every day after that.

I gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from Tegan’s face.

Could I do this? Could I adopt the child of the man I had been two months away from marrying? In sleep she looked so much like him. In waking life she had shades of him too. She might grow into her looks, might become more like her dad every day. Could I bear that? Every day, day after day, for the rest of my life staring at mini Nate, being reminded of my best friend and my fiancé making love.

This was all moot, though, wasn’t it? There was no going back now. I’d taken Tegan from her grandparents in Guildford. I’d had to—she couldn’t have stayed there a second longer—but I’d still taken her. That meant I hadn’t simply said yes to adopting her, I’d screamed it from the top of my lungs.

chapter 7

Kamryn and I had a lot of sex without love or even real emotion in our younger days.

Of course, it wasn’t the done thing, us being women and all, but we had our reasons.

My reason: weariness. I, Adele Brannon, was weary. Tired of meeting another new man, of hoping he was The One, of waiting for love to blossom between us, then finding he wasn’t The One and love wasn’t planning on paying us even a fleeting visit. I believed in love, so while I waited for its arrival in my life, I concentrated on having the best sex with the best-looking men in London, just to pass the time, you know.

Kamryn, on the other hand, didn’t believe in love. She’d experienced every type of being screwed over by men there was and had decided to give a little back—in kind. Years and years of being told you’re ugly and fat will do that. She’d often say, “It’s over, there’s nothing to talk about” but sometimes I’d catch her off guard and she’d reveal how deeply she’d been scarred by the things people used to say to her. Every day at school, bombarded with abuse. And then at home, she’d get silent calls and notes. When I met her she was a good-looking woman, but as she got older, she got better-looking, grew into her features and went from good-looking to striking. She had huge dark eyes, long eyelashes and this amazing smile. The tragedy being she never saw it, never believed it. No matter how many times you told her, she wouldn’t believe she was beautiful.

I wasn’t surprised she was wary of people, didn’t know who to trust. The worst part was the better-looking she got, the more she attracted men who seemed to be after one thing—to make themselves feel like real men by putting down a gorgeous woman.

It was the nice ones, the ones who’d sucker me in too, who hurt the most. They’d start off treating her well, then they would erode her confidence, put down her looks, try to douse her spark. After she’d dated a creep for six months only for him to suggest she diet to trim down her size-fourteen frame so she could fit into the size-ten dress he wanted her to wear to his work do, Kamryn changed. He was the last of the men who would make her feel like nothing, the last of those men who would be allowed to behave as if she should be grateful they even glanced in her direction. After him, Kam refused to show her soft side to another man. She didn’t have to say it for me to know that this went back to her school days. The only thing for it was to use men for sex and never let any of them get so close they could hurt her.

About eight years ago, everything changed. We were out clubbing and as usual we stood out—she with her curves, dark skin and feather-cut black hair, me with my slender frame, pale skin and masses of blond hair. I was wearing shiny black trousers, a denim bustier top and my denim stilettos while Kam wore her black velvet jacket, dark blue jeans and white top. I’d forced her to complete the look with a pair of my black suede stilettos.

This club was a new one but seemed to be full of the same old disgusting men. I had to drink to compensate for the lack of talent, while Kam dispatched every man who approached her with her acid tongue and acrid expressions. One man, probably the sexiest-looking one in the club, did get close enough to her to move in for a kiss, but at the last second she turned her back on him and walked away. We left after that.

I was the drunker of the two of us, so in the taxi back to our flat in north London I was allowed to lay my head on her thigh and fall asleep while she stayed awake to get us home.

“I’m going to do it with Nate,” Kam said.

“I thought you’d already shagged him,” I replied, not opening my eyes.

“I have,” she said. “No, I mean, I’m going to go out with him. Date him. Properly.”

“Is that why you didn’t snog that man?” I asked, my interest piqued, but not enough to make me open my eyes.

“Yes,” she mumbled. “I…I think I might like him.”

My eyes flew open and I sat bolt upright but she turned away to stare out the window before I could see into her eyes. She’d met Nate at a party a few months earlier and for some reason had given him her real phone number. Since day one she’d been giving him the runaround. She’d screen his calls, only phoning back days later. If she did answer the phone she’d be very nonchalant and vague about when they’d next meet up. Most shockingly, even for her, she shagged him after their first official date—which was afternoon coffee in north London—because she’d been convinced it would get rid of him. Not Nate. He hung in there. He’d dismantled her defenses, I didn’t realize how successfully until that moment.

“What?” I said.

“I think I might like him,” she repeated, studiously staring out of the window.

Bloody hell! Those six words were her equivalent to “I’m falling in love with him.” When she’d hardened her heart, Kamryn had chucked out all ambiguity about her feelings toward men. She knew which men she wanted to sleep with, which ones were just friends, which ones she would date but would never bed. For her to admit she wasn’t sure about a man meant he was special.

“Really?” I said to her.

She nodded but wouldn’t look at me.

“Wake me up when we get home,” she said. She was embarrassed and vulnerable, she’d exposed a part of herself that hadn’t been seen in years: she was unsure about a man. Kam closed her eyes, rested her head against the window and pretty soon she was asleep.

I watched her sleep as the cab made its way through the dark London streets. I was still reeling.
Kam is in love. Wow!
I suddenly felt sick.
What if he’s a bastard? What if he loses interest once he’s got her undivided attention? It’s happened before, what if it happens again? Kam will never recover.
I had to do something. I was extremely drunk, hideously tired and a little shaken up—obviously the perfect time to make a decision to protect Kam’s heart. And that decision was to tell the taxi driver in hushed tones to head for another address…

After three knocks and three rings of the bell, the door of the house in Tuffnell Park with eight stone steps leading up to it was answered. I’d dropped Kam off here a few times so I knew it was the right house. I asked the taxi driver to wait a minute while I went to get something.

“Adele?” Nate said as he opened the door. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and even though it was three a.m. he didn’t look as if he’d been asleep. Nate was good-looking. Not as sexy as the man Kam had been dancing with in the club, but he had something about him. Strong features, sexily messy brown-black hair and big navy-blue eyes. “Is Kamryn all right? What’s happened?”

“She’s in the taxi. I had to come here. I tell you”—I poked him in his chest—“if you hurt my friend, I kill you. You treat her right or I kill you. No messing.” I added another poke for good measure. “Proper, proper kill you.”

He didn’t say anything but even in my drunken state I could tell he didn’t believe me.

“I’m serious,” I reassured him, just as the heel of my left shoe slid off the step…For the longest microsecond of my life I was falling, then Nate’s strong hands were on my forearms and he was hauling me inside. My legs had turned to rubber so he had to practically carry me to the lounge doorway. He grabbed his wallet from the side. “Wait here,” he ordered and disappeared outside. He returned a few minutes later followed by an extremely pissed-off Kamryn. I’d graduated from standing in the lounge doorway to lying in the middle of the floor. My legs had stopped supporting me around the same time Nate had gone outside.

Kamryn stalked across the room, threw herself into one of the armchairs and sat glaring at me.

“I’m so pleased to see you both,” Nate said pleasantly. He even sounded as though he meant it. He was obviously a man of even temperament—I certainly wouldn’t be pleasant if someone came round to my house in the small hours and started threatening me.

“You owe Nathaniel for the taxi,” Kamryn said, her arms tightly folded across her chest.

“I had to tell Nate to treat you proper,” I explained to Kam. “Or I would kill him.”

“You got that message across,” Nate reassured. “Thank you, it’s always good to know someone will murder you if you offend them or their kin.”

“You should have seen how many men tried it on with sexy Kamryn tonight,” I said to Nate. “All the men in the club were after her. You’re not her only option, you know. This really good-looking one, he put his hand on her bum.”

Nate’s eyes hardened and he fixed that granite-like gaze on Kamryn as jealousy crept over his features—he wasn’t
that
even tempered.

“No, no, but she didn’t do anything,” I said quickly. “He tried to kiss her and everything, but she said, ‘Nooooo, I’ve got a boyfriend.’”

“Del…” Kam threatened.

Nate turned to me. “She said that?”

“Oh yes. She said, ‘I’ve got a new boyfriend, he’s called Nate and he’s so sexy, I really love him.’” I pointed at him.

“She loves you, she loves you.”

“Del! Shut up!” Kam said, outraged.

“She loves you, she loves you.”

Kam leapt up out of her chair, stepped forward but wobbled on the unfamiliar heels and fell flat on her face.

“Look, Nate, she’s fallen for you!” I shrieked.

Nate laughed quietly. Kam crawled determinedly forward on her hands and knees toward me.

“She thinks you’re so lovely,” I shouted before she got to me. “She said you’re so funny and sexy. And you’ve got the biggest…” Kam’s hand covered my mouth but I carried on speaking, “Kenis. Hoove kot se geegest kenis ever!”

“SHUT UP!” Kam screeched, then she was on top of me, tickling me with hard, angry digs in the ribs to quiet me. I yelled out for mercy as I fought her off. After a few seconds, Nate came over to us and hauled Kam off me.

“Enough!” he decreed, holding back my angry best friend.

“Kam, I know Adele’s making it all up—I’ve accepted that it’s illegal for you to say anything nice about me. And, Adele, thanks for trying but I’ve got a pretty good idea of how Kam feels about me, so don’t try to make me feel better. Besides, you don’t want to piss off someone you share a flat with, not on my account.”

I pushed my lips together, made a zipping motion across them, then clamped my hands over my mouth. Kam had stopped fighting in Nate’s arms and was staring at him. I think what he said had jolted her; the fact that he knew she wouldn’t ever say anything nice about him, even though she liked him, had thrown her. He smiled at her with deep affection but in response she glanced away.

“Come on, I think it’s bedtime,” he said.

“No!” I squealed. “We can’t have a threesome!”

“No, darling, I mean, you can sleep in one of my housemates’ beds. They’re all away. Come on.”

They took an arm each and hoisted me up, then helped me up the stairs because I still had legs of rubber. I was deposited on the double bed of a room that smelled of boys but was very tidy. I turned over, kicked my shoes off, then snuggled down into the soft duvet.

“Are you all right there, Del?” Nate asked.

“Yup, am right. Just sleep here. On nice bed. No be sick or nothing.”

“OK. If you need anything, Kam and I will be in my room, right next door,” Nate said.

“Actually, I think I’ll stay here,” Kam stated, every word coated with ice. Anyone would have thought he’d suggested she shave her head, not go sleep with a man she was falling in love with.

Nate, who’d obviously heard it all before, said, “Fair enough. Like I said, I’m next door if you need anything. See you in the morning.”

Kam sat down beside me after he shut the door behind him, then lay down with her back to me.

“Stop being such a hard-faced bitch,” I mumbled.

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Only if you’re nice to Nate. He’s lovely. He loves you.”

“You know nothing about it.”

“He loves you. I love you. You don’t need to be a bitch no more.”

I fell asleep before she replied and the next thing I knew, the covers were pulled off me and I was being shaken. “Come on, you silly tart, it’s morning, we’re off,” Kamryn said, shaking and shaking me.

“No, wanna sleep,” I replied, trying to shrug her off.

“Too fucking bad. We’re leaving.” She pulled me out of bed. I sat up slowly, every movement making pain shoot through my head. I wanted water and more sleep, but if Kam wanted to leave, then we had to leave. I only realized how grim things were when I saw my shoes. They’d been transformed overnight from sexy fashion pieces I’d spent a month’s wages on to denim instruments of torture.

“Yeah,” Kam said, indicating the shoes she had on her feet,

“it’s a bitch walking in them in the morning.”

We tottered along the brightening streets, huddled inside our lightweight jackets, looking every inch a pair of hookers who’d been working all night. Every step was agony and I often wore heels, so Kamryn, who lived in trainers, must’ve been going through hell. I took a sidelong glance at her, expecting her to be highly pissed off as well as pained. She was disheveled, tired and her eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep but she wasn’t cross. In fact, a slight, self-satisfied smile was playing on her lips. It could mean only one thing.

“Did you give him the good stuff?” I asked her.

“Oh yes,” she said with a smug sniff. “He won’t be walking straight for a week.”

Since I’ve been in the hospital I’ve had a lot of time to replay bits of my life. That night is often dusted off and played. Especially the bit where she says, “I think I might like him.” She’d told me first that she loved him—she didn’t even say it to Nate until months later. I was so honored she’d told me first that she was in love, it showed how much she thought of me.