The pub was loud and rowdy, and the tables had a sticky sheen of weeks’ old beer. Lauren felt immediately like she was part of a pleasant routine, as perfectly fitting as a well-worn chair. It was comforting.
She desperately hoped Sandy wouldn’t turn up tonight after their earlier conversation. It was hard enough to be in Blackpool, to look at Veronica and see Darren in her movements. To think of that night every time Vee tilted her head, or looked at her frankly, unguarded. It was even harder to look at Cass struggling and wonder if she was allowed to still be mad at her. Sandy didn’t seem to think so.
Did years of apologies count if you never got them? Would it have changed anything if she had? They settled themselves down in the corner at a large dark wooden table with a nasty green cushioned bench against the wall. Barry waved at them from across the bar, lifting his hands in imitation of a drink. Cass and Lauren looked at each other and nodded, Cass giving the thumbs up.
Lauren already adored Barry. He was such a gentle soul, nodding good morning to strangers as they walked down the pier, always ready with an interesting fact about the town, or the beach, or the history of the paving stones. In many ways, he seemed to barely exist, whistling away to himself as he did his job – people didn’t notice him.
Even after a day of pushing his cart along, he went out again for an evening walk and always ended up saving the day in some adventure, whether it was a lost dog on the beach or an inconsolable bride-to-be crying into her bag of chips. Lauren liked Barry so much that she’d started drinking bitter, just because she didn’t want to offend him by asking for a glass of wine.
‘So, we’re onto a winner tonight, right, my sweethearts?’ he said as he set the pints down on the table and rubbed his hands together.
Pub quiz night was taken very seriously, and at least once a month, Lauren was informed, the team had won the coveted £50 bar tab. A few years ago, they’d won every week, and had been threatened with disbarment, but old Dave the quiz master started getting his nephew to help out with ‘younger’ questions, and the balance had been restored.
‘Where’s Sandy? Communing with Casper?’ Barry chortled, looking at Justine, Nadia’s mum from next door.
She shook her head, grinning as she sipped her gin and tonic. ‘I guess you don’t have voicemail for ghosts.’
‘Sandy wasn’t sure if she’d make it,’ Lauren chimed in, hoping the relief wasn’t too evident.
‘Lauren’s devastated,’ Cass added, arching an eyebrow. She placed two packets of crisps in the middle of the table, ripping the foil bags to make them into plates.
‘Who else are we expecting, then?’ Barry asked, getting crumbs in his whiskers, then blinked. ‘Well look at you two, scrabbling around like mice.’
Cass and Lauren looked at each other and paused, their fingers each grasping crisps of roughly the same size.
‘You have to eat them in order,’ Lauren said.
‘Otherwise, what’s the point?’ Cass finished, biting her lip, then grinning. The two women didn’t look at each other, but somehow, stupidly, it was that shared, automatic reaction that made them feel close. Maybe it would be all right, after all.
Dave, with his forever-red face trundled over and handed out the sheets and pens, giving a warning that they’d start soon.
‘I guess we’re a small group tonight then,’ Barry said, smiling. ‘Me on my own with all these lovely ladies. I’ll take care of the football questions.’
Justine snorted, ‘Barry, I’ve been going to Bloomfield Road since I was knee-high to a grasshopper – give over with all that.’
Cass wiggled her eyebrows and said nothing, sipping her pint. The door opened suddenly, letting in a cold breeze, and in blustered Paul, hands full of paperwork, that ridiculous scarf getting caught in his coat as he walked through the pub.
‘Hello! I have news!’ he plonked the paperwork down in a pile on the table and Barry withheld a grumble at covering the quiz sheets. ‘Everything’s gone through, you’re good to go.’
Lauren looked at Cass, expecting her to light up, grin, cheer … something. Instead she pressed her lips together and nodded, not saying anything. The corners of her lips twitched up in acknowledgement. It was really happening.
Paul didn’t seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm, turning to Lauren, ‘—and it’s all down to this woman here. That letter? Brilliance! Utter brilliance! They couldn’t question anything because you’d covered it all. And all those examples from other boroughs, and the page of references from grief and child psychologists on the benefits of closure and positive experience …’
Lauren could feel herself blushing as Paul babbled on about her accomplishments, but worse than that, she could feel Cass’s eyes on her, and knew she was seeing something she didn’t like.
‘Cass, your friend is an absolute genius,’ Paul said, all earnest puppy-dog enthusiasm, and Lauren suddenly wished he’d shut up.
Cass just looked up lazily. ‘I know, she’s a good find, isn’t she? Wasted in property, weren’t you, Loll?’
Lauren felt her chest tighten, as if it was a trick question. ‘It was just a bit of paperwork, there wasn’t anything brilliant about it …’ She felt like she should hang her head, just keep the conversation moving forward.
‘Now, don’t do that, Loll, putting yourself down. You’re a grown-up now, aren’t you? Thought lawyers were all cut-throat bastards making money from the plight of the innocent? Or is it the guilty?’
‘Well, I was making money from the plight of people waiting three weeks for a basic environmental search, so I really couldn’t tell you,’ Lauren bit back, feeling her words press like a bruise. Why did this always happen? It was always men. Men were the problem. Everything else was fine unless there was a bloke in the room looking between the two of them and wondering which one was an easier option. The introverted shy one or the party girl who craved attention? Except those roles didn’t really fit anymore. Or, at least, they shouldn’t have.
No one really knew what to say, so Paul simply handed Lauren the confirmation letter and pushed his paperwork into his bag, getting himself a drink.
‘What’s going on there?’ Cass asked, her eyes following him to the bar.
‘Nothing. Jesus,’ Lauren huffed, ‘we worked together on the application. For you, I might add. What, did you have a thing?’
Cass shook her head. ‘No, never. He’s Vee’s teacher.’
‘Wouldn’t have stopped you before.’
‘Being a mum isn’t always about getting what you want, Lauren. Maybe you’ll learn that one day.’
It stung more than it should have, and Lauren recoiled a little, standing up suddenly.
‘Where you going, love? The quiz is starting soon!’ Barry frowned at her.
‘Toilet – be right back,’ she made a quick escape, darting across the room, weaving in between people to make it through to the ladies’ room. She splashed some water on her neck, then simply stood, looking at herself in the mirror. She saw a strained woman with dark hair, who was pretty enough. She wore her anxiousness around her eyes, and in the hollows of her collarbone. She was a long way away from the round-faced girl that Cass met and took along with her. The less pretty friend. And yet, immediately she was back to feeling like that person.
When Cass bestowed her love, it was like light. You became the most beautiful, special person in the universe. But when she turned her back on you, it was like you didn’t even exist. She was starting to look older than she was, Lauren thought, noticing the prominent blue veins along with the bloodshot eyes and that tension around her mouth. Her lips were always pressed together to stop herself from saying anything.
Cass walked in, stood next to her, so that their reflections were side by side. She said nothing. Lauren noticed the lightness of her, the fluttery bird movements made by the clear beating pulse in her neck. The sinews and bones starting to show beneath skin, like when sand is washed away on the shore. Her short hair was beautifully cropped and stylish, but she was tired. Her eyes were red too.
‘I’m sorry, Loll,’ she said, looking at her reflection, meeting her eyes in the mirror as if it was easier. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. I don’t know how to joke with you, or be that person I used to be. I used to be the adventurous one, dragging you off to do things that scared you, because you needed it. And now I’m just tired all the time and everything seems hard.’
Lauren sighed, nudging her. ‘You don’t have to keep doing that. Making me do scary things.’
‘Don’t I?’ She raised an eyebrow in the mirror.
‘Okay, well you probably do, but you used to be kinder about it. Instead of tearing me down if someone’s nice to me.’
‘You’re right. You’re so right. I’m just … I’m angry. I’m angry and jealous at everyone who gets to live and be here. Even if here is just to hear Barry swear about how the music question is always about this modern garbage and what happened to the bloody Rolling Stones anyway.’
She half-laughed a little at that, almost like a hiccup – involuntary. Her eyes watered, and she gripped Lauren’s hand, still looking at their reflections side by side. ‘I didn’t mean what I said about being a mum. You’ll be an amazing one. I just don’t like seeing that look of surprise when you notice I’m all right at it.’
‘What?’
‘You do this thing where you widen your eyes and get this little smile, and I know you’re thinking, the old Cass wouldn’t be making lasagne and practising spellings, she would have been doing tequila shots and hanging upside down from the monkey bars in the park, and I hate it. I don’t know why, but I hate it.’
‘You hate nostalgia?’
‘I hate thinking that you believe I’m doing a bad job and you could do it better. That if he’d just knocked you up instead, everything would have been fine.’
Those words were a little too close to Lauren’s thoughts for comfort. If Darren had managed to get her pregnant, she would have been fine. He could have left and she would have had a kid. She certainly wouldn’t have fallen foul of a few letters and some emotional whim to see her old best friend.
Cass seemed to see the truth in her eyes, and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m really glad you’re here, Loll. We’re gonna fix everything, I promise. I’m going to fix it.’
There was that determination, the Cass who had promised her she was going to give her adventures and make her brave. The Cass who had bought her the Big Book on her graduation and said she was going to do amazing things with her life. Who had told her she was proud when her mother was busy faffing with her high heels and comparing the ceremony to her brother’s, and no one else had thought to say it. She was still here, that girl who reminded her she could do something wonderful.
Cass tilted her head to the side, resting it awkwardly on Lauren’s shoulder, their reflections strangely separate from them.
‘I don’t want to leave,’ Cass said, sighing.
They stayed like that for a few moments, looking at themselves and wondering where to go next.
‘At least we’re going on an adventure. There are things to do and see and eat. Things for Vee to look at in wonder.’
Cass smiled, nodding as she lifted her head. ‘Why do you think we have all our important moments in toilets?’
‘Well, that’s an easy one,’ Lauren said, directing her towards the door. ‘We’re both full of shit.’