‘When you chose that backdrop for the photos, didn’t it even bloody occur to you that it might look bloody ridiculous?’ The fire-breathing dragon – her boss, Jenny, who was five years her junior and absolutely gloried in it – was in full swing. ‘I mean, could you not see that the juxtaposition of a no-entry sign and a cactus next to the company managing director at the launch of a new industrial lubricant might be a bit, you know – unfortunate?’
Eliza wanted to laugh, but swallowed hard instead. This made her splutter, generating a noise which sounded more jovial than she had intended.
‘We’ll probably lose the account, Eliza, and I am fucking fed up to the back teeth with your lack of attention to detail. Your head’s in the fucking clouds. It’s not bloody screwed on.’ Jenny liked to swear, but she was also quite posh, and the combination was often unintentionally funny. ‘Come and see me tomorrow morning, first thing. I need time to think about this.’
Eliza didn’t hang around after that pronouncement, in case she started up again. She grabbed the coat from the back of her chair, clasped her phone to her chest, muttered something about missing her train, and left. Once safely outside the office, she felt the first tears of frustration and embarrassment begin to fall. She ducked into the toilet and locked the cubicle door. When she could be certain that no one could see her, she let the metaphorical taps open and cried with abandon, gulping for air, before hammering so hard on her legs that she left angry scarlet marks on her thighs.
She really, really needed to stop crying, she thought. This was ridiculous. She was thirty-bloody-six years old. Time to grow up and get a grip. No man, and no job, was worth this. Other people her age were married, raising kids, paying off a mortgage, climbing up the career ladder. Meanwhile, she barely managed to pay her rent each month and her chances of marriage and kids now looked about as likely as finding a reasonably priced house in Clapham. She had wasted so many years, hadn’t she? All those years waiting for Ed to propose had been a complete and utter waste of time. She had clung on like a fangirl to her idol, desperately hoping that her dreams would eventually come true. It was humiliating, frankly.
When the waves of sobs had subsided, she listened carefully to check no one was outside before walking to the sinks and gingerly checking out her appearance. It wasn’t good. She had layered on mascara that morning in an attempt to look more alive. Now she looked like a goth who’d stood for far too long at a bus stop in the rain. The manufacturers of her apparently waterproof mascara should be sued. She was fishing around in her gargantuan handbag for tissues and moisturiser to try to remove the gunk when her phone beeped. It was a message from Katy.
Wench, where the devil are you? I’ve got a bottle in front of me all to myself, and I look like a wino.
‘Shit,’ she said, out loud. She’d forgotten she was supposed to be meeting Katy after work. Her encounter with the dragon and her post-Ed hangover, which so far was worse than anything booze had ever managed to impose on her, had removed her so far from reality that she couldn’t even remember her evening plans. Bugger! Eliza grabbed a tissue, tidied up as much of her make-up as she could, and dashed out of the door. She typed a hurried reply to Katy, apologising, as she ran down the stairs.
She emerged into a beautiful late summer’s evening. All around her as she walked, weary London workers were pouring out of their offices at the end of a long, mind-numbing day, longing to peel off damp, shiny suits and agonising heels and kick back for the evening with a pint and an attitude. The street smelt of chips laced with vinegar and mayo, sweating gin and tonic and the sweet sadness of accidentally dropped ice cream from Luigi’s Gelato Emporium, which was just down the street. Above the buildings nearby, the Shard loomed large, reflecting the sunshine.
Eliza’s love affair with London had begun long ago. Her parents had taken her on a rare weekend away without Patience when she was eleven, their destination of choice the capital. It had been booked to celebrate her mum and dad’s wedding anniversary, but to Eliza – the recipient of her parents’ undiluted attention for forty-eight hours – it had surely been all about her. Even the train journey had seemed tinted with magic. It had been February, and there had been a light snowstorm followed by a frost across most of the Midlands and South-East. Frozen fallow fields, punctuated by mighty oaks, ice-encrusted wooden fences and large red-brick farmhouses had quickly given way to an urban landscape of graffiti-strewn bridges and tunnels, forgotten canals and trundling tube trains; for Eliza, it had been love at first sight. The sheer volume of people around her, all seemingly experiencing lives of infinite possibilities, filled her with excitement and hope. And as the train pulled up into a dirty, fume-filled Paddington station, she decided that London would eventually become her home. Here, she could become whoever she wanted to be.
And that was why she had applied for a place at King’s College, right in the centre of the action, to study English. Which meant that she had unwittingly started herself on a trajectory which would end with Ed dumping her just after they’d finally got engaged. If she hadn’t gone to that university, had instead chosen the convenient, red-brick campus of, say, Birmingham, she might have met a bloke called… Jake; studying, oh, maybe geography, and together they might have settled down, produced two globe-trotting children and studied maps together, or whatever it was that geography graduates did. But instead, it had been London and Ed, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about that now.
After employing what Eliza called her ‘London walk’, which was, in reality, more of a jog, she finally arrived at the wine bar which Katy had appointed for that evening’s meet-up. She winced at the sign outside, which invited customers to enjoy ‘it’s beer garden’. It was hard, she felt, to take businesses seriously when they couldn’t even use an apostrophe properly.
Shrugging off her distaste for grammatical inaccuracy, Eliza walked into the bar. Its windows were all open onto the street, but once she entered she realised that their ventilation efforts were in vain – it was bloody boiling in there. Katy was sitting in a booth near the window, tapping on her phone, her black, glossy hair reflected in the chrome pendant lamp above her head. A bottle of white wine and two glasses – one half full – were on the table. Eliza smiled broadly at her as she leaned in for a kiss, hoping that her earlier brief make-up fix was convincing.
‘Blimey, love, you look awful.’
So it hadn’t worked, then.
‘Cheers, that really makes me feel better,’ Eliza replied, smiling, despite everything. Then she let herself be hugged – and this caused the tears to fall once more.
‘It’s been pretty shit, then?’ Katy said, after she released Eliza and fetched another tissue from her own bag for her to use. ‘All sorts of shit? Or just Ed shit?’
‘All sorts of shit,’ Eliza answered, sniffing.
‘Work? Patience? Your parents?’
‘Every bit of that. Mostly Ed, I suppose, but then I made a huge, hammering error at work today for which I’m going to pay dearly.’
‘Is your boss still a witch?’
‘Yes, I think she’ll be eligible for a broomstick upgrade soon. She’s next level,’ said Eliza.
‘That company seems like a pretty shit place to work, if you ask me,’ said Katy, taking a slurp of wine, her right eyebrow raised. ‘Toxic. Do you regret leaving NewHome? They seemed nice.’
‘Hmm,’ replied Eliza, pouring herself a glass of wine. She thought back to the small homelessness charity in Brixton where she’d cut her PR teeth. She’d been a one-woman band in a tiny office with no aircon and a smelly fridge, but she’d loved the stories she’d placed in the media, and the characters she’d worked with. If only they’d paid more, she thought, she could have stayed. But she and Ed had been wanting to buy their own place, and she had needed a better salary. And he had encouraged her to move to a corporate environment, because he said it would be more ‘stable’. More fool her, she thought. All that effort for a future that never materialised.
‘And how is Patience now, after the accident?’ asked Katy, changing the subject, to Eliza’s relief.
‘Better. Back at home with Mum, epilepsy – if she’s even got it at all – under control, it seems. But Mum’s stretched to the limit, as ever. She was close to exhaustion for a bit there, trying and failing to sleep in the hospital, refusing to let any of the carers come and do a shift.’ Eliza leaned over and accepted another tissue from Katy’s bag.
‘Won’t even consider letting her go in for extra respite care either, hey? Sounds about right. Have you been home to check up on her?’
Katy had known Eliza since primary school, and had been a regular visitor to the Willow family home throughout their childhood. And that meant that she knew, without Eliza having to explain, all about her family’s complicated dynamic. She understood how her mum functioned – or often, didn’t function – and how Dad fitted into the mix. She also knew how Eliza felt about Patience. All of it, even the jealousy and resentment she’d felt on really bad days, as a teen. She was deeply ashamed she’d ever felt that way, and so it was a relief to her that only her best friend really knew about it. Katy never brought it up explicitly, however; she just had a way of acknowledging it silently and dismissing it at the same time, and Eliza loved that. It was wonderful to feel heard, forgiven and understood. And mostly, it was just a relief not to have to go through it all again. It had been hard enough to deal with the first time.
Katy had also been Eliza’s flatmate for two years before deciding to move in with her boyfriend – now fiancé – Matt. Matt and Ed knew each other, but had not become friends; it was something that had always bothered Eliza. Eliza saw Katy reach for her own engagement ring and begin spinning it. Eliza moved her own hands onto her lap.
‘Not yet. I haven’t felt right, since Ed – but I will.’ Eliza winced internally as she spoke. In truth, she felt incredibly guilty about not going home to help, but heaven knows, she had a full-time job and an emotional mess of her own to deal with. It wouldn’t be fair to burden her mother with it, on top of everything else. ‘But you’re on the money re respite care,’ she continued. ‘She resists it as much as possible, even though she’s knackered. But Patience has been staying at Morton Lodge a bit more since she was discharged from hospital. Dad is trying to encourage her to do it.’
Katy gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘So your dad’s still working away, then?’
‘Yes. They still need the money, I think, not that they talk to me about it. They never seem to have enough cash. I think Dad wants to retire soon. So they need the tax-free salary.’
‘I see,’ Katy replied. ‘How do they feel about the wedding being off?’
Eliza took a large gulp from her wine glass. ‘They don’t know. I haven’t told them yet.’
‘You haven’t? But it’s been a month!’ Katy made an incredulous face.
‘I know, I know! It’s ridiculous. But I haven’t found the right time. Mum and Dad were so caught up with Patience and then Dad flew back to Qatar and I came back to work – and well, I don’t want to tell them on the phone.’
Eliza had decided not to tell her the real reason, which was that she was determined to win Ed back. This was just a blip. Pre-wedding nerves. They were meant to be together, she just knew it, and she was sure he would come back with his tail between his legs, very soon. And then she wouldn’t have to tell her mother anything about it. It would be like nothing had ever happened. They could all carry on as before.
‘Hang on a sec!’ Katy’s eyes flew down and settled on Eliza’s left hand, which was now lifting up her glass. ‘You’re still wearing your ring!’
Eliza blanched, put her wine down and put her hand back on her lap. Damn it, she thought; I should have remembered to take it off before coming out.
‘And you’ve had loads of weekends free – you could have driven to see your mum to tell her then.’
‘I don’t have weekends free. I have a gym class on Saturday morning and I’m finally getting good at hot yoga,’ said Eliza, trying to deflect the question.
Katy snorted.
‘Oh, come on, Lize. The last time you went to the gym, you fell off the running machine and twisted your ankle.’
Eliza eyed her friend. Katy always knew when she was lying. ‘Yes, well, I could have gone home, I suppose,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t want to. As I said, I haven’t really been myself.’
Eliza pictured the scene: her mother in floods of tears, a visible demonstration of her devastation at the cancellation of the wedding; and, of course, the deposit they would lose. Their wedding had been the one ray of sunshine her mother had had to look forward to and it had tangibly improved her mood. Also, there would be no grandchildren now, would there? Talk about a double whammy. Eliza knew that Louise really wanted to be a grandma and Patience could obviously never manage that one, could she? It was up to Eliza to provide the next generation, and she’d blown it.
‘Don’t want to? Why? Come on, Lize, this is insane.’
‘I don’t want to give her something else to be upset about,’ she said. That, at least, was the truth, she thought. ‘Mum needs this wedding. You know how she is; she thinks Patience is going to die at any moment. It’s the only thing that’s keeping her going.’
The two friends eyed each other. ‘Eliza, you have a wedding booked for next summer. I’m getting married too, so I know how enormous an undertaking it is. If you are going to get any money back on it at all, you need to cancel it, now. Does Ed know that you haven’t cancelled it?’
‘I have no idea. We haven’t been in touch,’ replied Eliza.
‘Bloody hell! Has he cancelled your honeymoon?’
‘Probably. He sodding booked it.’
‘Has he given you your share back?’
‘No.’
‘You need to ask him for it! How are you affording the rent?’
‘I’m thinking of advertising for a lodger. I just haven’t got around to it yet.’
‘What a bloody mess! And don’t you have a food tasting scheduled for next week? Have you cancelled that at least?’
Eliza didn’t reply.
‘Jesus, you’re still going, aren’t you? You’re still going to try the sodding food for your reception even though you’re not actually going to get married?’
‘I am waiting, for Mum’s sake,’ Eliza said, loudly. ‘I am delaying this so that I can spare her the shock. She’s had enough shocks.’
‘Eliza, it’s been four weeks – four weeks – and Ed has not come back. You haven’t even spoken to him. Don’t you think it might be time to come clean? And come on, your parents will cope. I doubt they love him as much as you think they do. He’s a knob.’
‘He’s everything they want in a son-in-law, Katy.’ There was a snort from the other side of the table, but Eliza was thinking about her mum’s delight when they’d got engaged. It was something she thought of, often. ‘Look, he’s been a part of my life for so long that I no longer really function without him. And there’s so much that’s great about him – he’s so successful, he knows what he wants… And I find myself wanting to send him messages myriad times a day with just general observations about weird men I see on the tube, or YouTube videos of mad cats, or disastrous interviews on the Today programme – and I can’t. And it bloody hurts. So we must be a real thing, mustn’t we?’
‘It will hurt,’ Katy said, then took another swig of wine. ‘You were together for years. Christ, almost fifteen of the buggers! But that doesn’t mean he was right for you. He’s behaved like a tosser and he doesn’t deserve you wanting him back.’
Eliza suspected that this was the polite version of what Katy was really thinking. She wasn’t usually one for holding back.
‘I’m afraid I don’t have your strength, Katy. I can’t do it. I need him. And anyway, you don’t need strength, you have Matt. You should try being me. Ed was my One. The only one who’d have me. Everyone else has run a mile.’
Katy’s mouth dropped open.
‘You are genuinely saying that you would still marry him after this, if he came back with his tail between his legs and asked you to?’
‘Yes. He’s the only guy I’ve ever loved. And the only guy who will ever love me.’
‘Eliza, my dear, you are deluded. I love you, I really do, but you are deluded.’
‘Cheers.’
‘You know I’m saying this because I care. I properly care. More than he does.’ Katy had reached out to put her hand on Eliza’s.
‘I know. I know. But I can’t say goodbye to all of this, just yet,’ Eliza replied, looking firmly into her wine glass, and not at her friend. ‘I waited too long for it.’
‘OK. I’ve had my rant. But please think about it. Let’s try to move on,’ said Katy, reaching for the drinks menu. ‘Firstly, let’s order cocktails. And then tell me what on earth you did to incur the wrath of the boss from hell.’ Eliza managed a genuine smile before filling her in on the desperate details of her workplace faux pas, cactus and all.
*
It was several hours later when the pair tumbled out of the bar and into a minicab home. They dropped Katy first, at the studio flat she shared with Matt in Vauxhall. She planted a kiss on Eliza’s cheek as she opened the door. ‘Courage!’ she said, as she got out. ‘This too shall pass.’
As the cab drew away from the curb, Eliza felt a rare surge of hope. Being with someone who knew her almost as well as Ed had made her feel less alone, if only for a short while. Perhaps she would survive this after all.
That feeling of hope lasted only a second or so.
Her phone beeped. Eliza pulled it out of her pocket, convinced it would be a message from Katy, saying she’d forgotten something. But it wasn’t Katy. It was from Ed.
Hello there. Sorry I haven’t been in touch. I wondered though – would you like to meet up to talk? I think we need closure.
All the best friends in the world couldn’t protect her from herself now.