‘I think I’ve forgotten what he looks like,’ he replied. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. I nearly fell out my chair when he said he was coming tonight. Everyone, this is Annie, Samuel’s new friend.’
There was an intonation on the words ‘new friend’ that made my stomach flip. I would have killed a man to be able to sit quietly in a corner and check my phone until Sam arrived.
‘What do you do?’ asked one of the girls sat across the table. She had bright red hair and light green eyes and was wearing a gorgeous blue sundress. ‘Annie, was it?’
‘I own a digital marketing company,’ I nodded, keeping my hands on my knees and off my drink. Getting wasted was not going to improve this situation. ‘What about you?’
She sipped a neon green cocktail before she spoke. ‘I’m a senior lecturer on theoretical physics at Cambridge.’
‘Sounds fun,’ I said, grabbing my vodka and taking a swig. I looked up to see more and more people piling into the room and heard each new arrival being briefed. There was a stranger amongst them and that stranger was waiting for Samuel Page. Given that everyone else here seemed to know each other, it wasn’t hard for anyone to work out who the interloper might be. At any given point, there were at least five pairs of eyes on me.
‘Sasha’s husband, Ren, lived with me and Sam at Durham,’ Aggy said, draping an easy arm around his friend’s shoulders which she immediately pushed away. ‘We’re a pretty incestuous bunch.’
‘You wish,’ Sasha replied, tucking her short hair behind her ear. ‘The only reason we’re still friends is because we’re all stuck in the lab or the library all day. Samuel clearly had the right idea. Get out, meet new people, stop hanging around with losers like you, Ags. It’s hardly rocket science.’
‘And if it was, she’d know,’ I added.
Sasha laughed and held up her hand for a high five. I did not leave her hanging.
‘I’m so impressed with Sammy,’ Aggy said. ‘He’s never been good with meeting people. Are you sure he didn’t pay you to come here?’
‘Aggy, are you suggesting she’s a prostitute?’ Sasha asked as I reached for my drink.
‘Prostitutes don’t wear cardigans,’ Aggy replied coolly. ‘I would know.’
‘I’m sure there’s at least one sex worker who owns a cardi,’ I said, stirring my vodka with a straw. ‘It can’t be all fishnets and ball gags.’
‘So impractical,’ Sasha agreed.
‘And she’s funny as well,’ Aggy said with mock resentment. ‘I thought it was my birthday, not Sammy’s.’
‘You’re so rude,’ Sasha threw a postage-stamp printed coaster at Aggy. ‘She’s already going out with Samuel, don’t make the poor girl suffer any more than she already is.’
‘I didn’t say going out with,’ I corrected quickly. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe I should finish this drink, have another one and then go.
‘Sorry,’ she said with an apologetic grimace. ‘I’ve been married so long I forget the rules. He hasn’t said it so you can’t say it? Trust me, Sammy is such a private person, if he invited you here, he must like you. That, or he’s punishing you for something, why else would he make you put up with this lot for the evening?’
The door opened and a stream of guests arrived, cheering and whooping. Aggy leapt to his feet to accept a bouquet of helium balloons decorated, for some reason, with Pokémon. But there was still no Sam and still no Elaine.
‘We’re all harmless, I promise. Well, except for Aggy, but we put up with him because …’ Sasha screwed up her face as she tried to come up with a reason. ‘Actually, I don’t know why. He’s quite rich. He’s got a house in the South of France. Could be that.’
‘It’s as good a reason as any,’ I assured her.
‘We’ve had a group chat going about Sammy going AWOL on us for weeks,’ she said in a quiet, conspiratorial voice. ‘No one knew where he was or what he was up to since the break-up. Now we do.’
‘I think he’s just been busy working on his lecture and his book,’ I told her, tucking my hair behind my ears. I should have tied it up. It was far too hot in that tiny room. ‘I haven’t been monopolizing him that much.’
‘Monopolize away,’ she said. ‘It’ll be good for him. Love him though I do, social graces have never been his strongest point.’
‘But he’s charming, in his own way,’ I replied, thinking back to that first evening at The Ginnel and those awful, awful Bart Simpson shorts. ‘I know he can be a bit awkward but he holds the door open, gives you his coat when you’re cold. Who does that these days?’
‘That’s surprisingly sexy,’ Sasha said, sipping her drink through her straw. ‘I don’t think I mentally tie that kind of chivalry to that amount of hair.’
‘Oh, you haven’t seen him in a while,’ I bit my lip and smiled in spite of myself. ‘Let me find you a photo.’
It wasn’t hard. Once the photo albums on my phone had been full of cat gifs and well-lit selfies, now they were absolutely bursting with photos of Sam. Sam at salsa class, Sam on the beach in Margate, Sam at my dad’s birthday party, Sam asleep in my bed. I quickly swiped past that one before Sasha could comment.
‘Oh, Annie,’ she laughed. ‘Who’s a smitten kitten?’
‘Oh no,’ I squeaked. ‘It’s not like that.’
‘Love works in mysterious ways,’ Sasha said, patting my hand and lowering her tone. ‘How long have you known each other? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Only a few weeks.’ It seemed impossible it had been such a short amount of time.
Sasha stroked her long neck with her forefinger and then nodded.
‘And you know all about his break-up, I presume.’
‘Hmm,’ I muttered, keen to avoid awkward territory.
‘That whole thing had been over yonks before they officially ended it,’ she said, as though it was common knowledge. ‘Elaine’s been one of my best friends for years, I was so relieved for both of them.’
I almost spat out my drink. But that would have been a terrible waste so I choked it down.
‘They were more flatmates than boyfriend and girlfriend in the end. I’m glad they dealt with it all so amicably.’
This was not good. Sasha was not my friend, nor was she Sam’s friend. She was Elaine’s friend. I looked around, looking for an escape route. No windows. Only one door. Stupid speakeasy.
‘Lainey will be happy to know Samuel has someone; we were all so worried he’d hole up alone somewhere,’ she declared. ‘But here you are and you’re quite clearly crazy about him.’
‘Crazy is right,’ I said, shaking my empty glass in her face. ‘You know, I might pop back to the bar. Can I get you anything?’
Standing up before she could answer, I crossed the room quickly and hid at the busy bar to consider my options. This had been an incredibly stupid idea. I should never have come to the party without him. I should never have come to the party at all. How ridiculous, that I had shown up alone when Sam had clearly decided to give it a miss. I half expected to see a message from Mir to say he had shown up at the Wilder party. It was time for me to leave.
Decision made, I turned to make my way out, just as the door to the private room opened wide. It was Sam. I spied the top of his head over the crowds and felt my stomach lurch. And then the crowd of people between us parted and I saw he was not alone.
He was with Elaine.
‘Well, I’ll be a greased Jesus, is that you Samuel?’ Aggy declared loudly. ‘Where’s your hair? Who’s responsible for this hatchet job? I’ll have them.’
‘You shush,’ Elaine ordered, wrapping herself around Sam’s arm as two red spots appeared in his cheeks. ‘He looks gorgeous.’
In case I wasn’t already hyperventilating, she yanked on his arm until he leaned over, bringing them face to face. Then she planted a kiss on his lips.
Everyone in the room turned to look at me.
‘And how nice to see you together. Only, Sammy, your other friend i
s already here,’ Aggy grinned and pointed over to the bar as I clutched my sweaty cocktail. ‘We’ve all been having a lovely chat.’
‘Annie?’
Sam looked more than a little surprised to see me.
But not nearly as surprised as Elaine. She tightened her grip on Sam’s hand, staring daggers across the room.
‘Just came by to say …’ I necked my drink and shivered as the unmixed vodka in the bottom hit the back of my throat. ‘Hi.’
‘Don’t I know you?’ Elaine asked, narrowing her eyes with recognition.
‘Let’s say no,’ I said, buttoning up my cardigan, post-haste. ‘I had an important message for Sam. A business message.’
He just stared at me, utterly perplexed.
‘Fire marshal business,’ I added, words streaming out of my mouth in no particular order I could be sure of. ‘They’re turning the water off at work tomorrow morning at six. In case you were planning on going in early.’
‘On a Saturday?’ Elaine looked up at Sam. Her boyfriend. ‘Why would they send someone out to tell you that on the off chance you’d be going to work on a Saturday?’
‘Lovely to meet everyone,’ I said loudly, throwing my handbag on my shoulder and slamming my glass down on the bar so hard, a long crack ran up the side. ‘Happy birthday, Aggy, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or anything I would do. Best not to even think about me at all. Happy bloody birthday.’
I sprinted through the bar and grabbed the door handle, pushing with all my might but it didn’t budge.
‘It says pull,’ Sasha called from her seat at the table.
‘So it does,’ I replied, as cheerful as possible. I pulled the door lightly. It opened. ‘There we go. Have a lovely evening, everyone.’
As soon as I was out of the party, I put my head down and pushed through the crowded bar, not looking up until I was back out on the street. How could I have been so stupid? Why were they there together? And how quickly could I get another drink?
I turned on my heel and ran down the street. An actual honest to goodness sprint. By the time I turned the corner, the tears began to roll down my cheeks, two at a time, hot, fat and fast. My mind replayed the moment when they walked in together over and over and over. Elaine looked so happy, so proud to be with him. Choking on my tears, I felt sick to my stomach, a rueful smile on my face. At least that was one good thing that had come out of his. I could officially say my boyfriend bootcamp had been a success after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Out of all the different fantasies I’d entertained over the last few days, ending my Friday evening sitting on the roof of my office building, eating a Fray Bentos pie in floods of tears had never come up. And yet, that was exactly what I was doing.
‘Why don’t more people eat these?’ I asked Brian in between mouthfuls. ‘I feel reborn.’
‘I would have run out and got you real food,’ he said, pulling a most distasteful face. ‘I can’t believe you’re eating that.’
‘Neither can I,’ I replied, sticking my fork back in the tin. ‘Neither can I.’
The moment I arrived back at The Ginnel, my friends had welcomed me with open arms and an open bottle of wine and I had worked my way through the stages of rejection with no time to waste. The tears I dealt with on my own, Brian took the ‘he’s not even that great’ phase, Miranda managed the ‘why her and not me’ bit and now the three of us were deep into my favourite part, the angry, righteous indignation, ‘eff that guy’ stage.
‘Let her have him, that’s what I say,’ Miranda said, waving her wine glass high above her head. ‘More trouble than he’s worth. Ooh, you’re so tall, well done.’
‘Lots of people are tall,’ Brian agreed. ‘Doesn’t mean they’re good people. Richard Madeley is tall. Donald Trump is tall. I’m tall.’
‘Can’t say I’m following that logic,’ I muttered. ‘I like Richard Madeley.’
‘Tall doesn’t make him special,’ he continued. Brian was definitely slightly sloshed. ‘And neither does a nice haircut and a decent pair of jeans. So what if he’s got a PhD?’
‘Two PhDs.’
‘So he’s twice as boring as we thought,’ Bri shrugged and lay down on the floor, resting his head on Miranda’s lady brogues. ‘He doesn’t deserve you, Annie. Let him go back to her, let him find out cheaters never change. Let him run around, trying to make her happy when she’s just going to be shagging the first karate instructor that gives her a second look.’
‘I went out with a karate teacher once,’ Mir said. ‘You’d be amazed at how long they spend washing those uniforms. Persil isn’t enough, you’ve got to handwash it like, every time.’
‘You, Annie, are a unicorn,’ Brian announced. ‘You’re funny, you’re clever, you’re a wonderful friend. Your eyebrows give me life. I will not stand here and watch you cry when you deserve to have Justin Theroux’s identical twin carrying you up the Eiffel Tower on his back and showering you in diamonds. You deserve the highest calibre of love possible and I won’t allow you to settle for anything else.’
‘Brian!’ I was so touched. ‘That’s so lovely.’
‘Or you need to get a bloody good seeing to,’ he said, rolling over onto his stomach. ‘Either or.’
‘You started without us again?’
Charlie, Martin and everyone I had ever seen pass through the doors of The Ginnel streamed out onto the roof, carrying bottles of wine and cases of beer and bags upon bags of Doritos. The trashiest snack possible. I wanted it.
‘We’re trendsetters, what can I say?’ Mir shouted, raising her cup in their direction. ‘But we are running dry. Bring all that over here.’
And bring it over they did. The fairy lights went on, the music was turned up and I was surrounded. My pity party had been usurped by a real party.
‘Might as well, since I’m already feeling shit,’ I mumbled to myself, waiting until Miranda and Bri were both looking the other way and pulled out my phone, turning it on and waiting patiently for the screen to brighten.
I couldn’t help myself. My first stop, Matthew’s Facebook. Oh good, they’d had their engagement party tonight. Oh good, there were loads of people I used to think were my friends in the photos.
‘Think of the money you’ll save on Christmas cards,’ I told myself as I scrolled through the happy event, mentally crossing names off one list and adding them to another. If only I ever actually managed to send Christmas cards.
I stared up at the darkening sky and tried to talk myself out of it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t very convincing. Before I knew it, I’d already opened the app and found the account.
Elaine’s Instagram feed was full of selfies of her and Sam. Absolutely full. A close-up of the two of them with their faces squished side by side. A team shot of her, Sam, Aggy and Sasha, taken just now at the birthday party. Elaine kissing Sam on the cheek, Sam trying not to look at the camera while he kissed Elaine. Toilet selfie.
But it was the last picture that killed me. Just a straight on photo of Sam, smiling slightly past the camera, his dark blond hair ruffled and one tiny dimple showing through his stubble in his left cheek and a caption that read ‘This one’ followed by an assortment of emojis. Heart eyes, a thumbs up, fire, a pair of scissors and because she was determined to fuck with me, the aubergine.
‘Oi, professor.’ I looked up to see Charlie standing in front of me, holding two bottles of beer. ‘Need a drink?’’
No, Dr Johnson and the Live Life Love podcast would have said, go home and meditate on your feelings, don’t self-medicate with alcohol. And my sister would tell me not to start on wine and switch to beer. But Dr Johnson and the Live Life Love podcast had been a complete chocolate teapot when it came to dealing with the Sam situation and my sister was busy in the suburbs with Baby Basil so what was a girl supposed to do?
‘I would love one,’ I replied, taking the icy beverage in my spare hand and tipping it back. ‘Thanks.’
I stood up, passing Miranda and Martin on
the sofa, and walked over to the edge of the rooftop to my favourite shaded spot by the stairwell. Music started out of nowhere and the streets below us were swarming with people. London was officially off the clock.
‘Long week,’ Charlie said, following closely behind. ‘Thought it might never end.’
‘Tell me about it,’ I replied as the beer settled onto a comfortable bed of pie. ‘Happy summer party.’
He leaned over the wall that ran around the edge of the building. There was actually another low wall a few feet after that one but I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like someone who was determined to jump was going to climb over one four-foot wall and then think, you know what, I can’t be bothered to do a second low-ish wall today, maybe I will go on with life instead.
‘Any big plans for the weekend?’ Charlie asked.
Sleep, work, possibly throw up a chicken pie, more work, more sleep and then maybe treat myself to a good cry and a Dawson’s Creek marathon.
‘Very exciting plans,’ I replied, turning my back on the skyline and resting my elbows on the barrier that ran around the edge of the roof. ‘You?’
‘Probably end up working all weekend,’ he said with a happy martyr’s smile I recognized all too well. ‘All those films I watched with my mum when I was growing up gave me seriously false expectations when it comes to the glamour of running your own business.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ I said, clinking the neck of my bottle against his. ‘Sometimes I dream about turning my computer off on a Friday and that being it until Monday.’
‘Sometimes I fantasize about not reading my emails before I go to bed,’ said Charlie. ‘Or waking up and actually getting out of bed before I check my inbox.’
‘Inbox dread,’ I groaned, managing a small smile at the same time. ‘It’s a modern epidemic. There’s no cure.’
Charlie raised his beer to his lips, gazing out over London as he drank, king of the world.
‘So,’ he said, turning around so we were facing in the same direction, side by side. ‘How are you doing with our little bet?’