‘Oh, can’t wait to see you. It feels like years since we’ve gotten together,’ Jen said. ‘You don’t have any plans, do you?’
Rock. Hard Place. Forming an Amber Salpone sandwich. I hadn’t seen Jen in almost two months. Not if you didn’t count that insane lunch and the night of Matt’s birthday, which, of course, never happened.
I missed Greg after a week but I was gagging for Jen after a few weeks. And I wasn’t the kind of person to dump her friends once I had a man. I was not a total girlfriend. Friends first. Friends are for ever, men are until ___________ (insert as appropriate).
‘No, I haven’t got any plans,’ I said and watched the red mist descend upon Greg’s eyes. ‘I’ll see you in a minute.’
‘Bye, sweetie,’ Jen said.
‘Bye.’
I hung up.
Silence.
The living room was crammed with it, stifling not only sound but movement. I was holding my breath, and the only part of Greg that moved were the pupils of his eyes as they got smaller and smaller.
‘No plans,’ Greg stated through gritted teeth.
‘I didn’t mean it like that. Matt’s away and I haven’t seen Jen in weeks,’ I said quickly. ‘Not on her own.’
‘So she calls and I’m out the door.’
‘Don’t be like that. You know how lonely Jen gets when Matt goes to Paris, she needs a mate. Her best mate. And that’s me, remember?’
‘I need my girlfriend,’ Greg replied. ‘And that’s you, remember? I haven’t seen you in seven days and I won’t see you for ages because I’m working late all next week.’
‘We’re spending all of tomorrow together,’ I said.
‘No, I’ve got to work. Tonight’s all we’ve got.’
‘Oh.’ I glanced at the clock. The train would be pulling into Horsforth station in about three minutes.
‘Let’s tell her,’ Greg said.
‘What?’
‘When she gets here, let’s tell her, then I can stay.’
‘We agreed six months.’
‘Six months, six weeks, what’s the difference?’
I opened my hands in silent prayer to God above for patience. It was fine for him to say ‘tell her’ but he didn’t know what it’d do to Jen to find out like this. We told each other everything. I don’t think Greg got that. If we told her this now, out of the blue, her eyes would water up and she’d give me a long look of pure wounding, as if I’d literally stabbed her in the back as she said something like, ‘I’m really pleased for you.’ That look would break my heart.
‘We can’t tell Jen without Matt. He’d go ape.’
Greg knelt back, stared up at the ceiling, now it was his turn to count to ninety-eight million and offer up a silent prayer for patience.
‘OK.’ He launched himself off the sofa onto his feet. Snatched up his shirt, yanked it on. With angry, jerky movements he did up a few of the pearlised buttons on his shirt, jerked his belt through its buckle and did it up. ‘OK. Call me when she’s gone and I’ll come back.’
‘Um, she’ll probably stay over. That’s what these nights involve.’
Another long silence as Greg stood, hands on hips, shirt partially open, glaring down at my red, thick-pile carpet. The moment reminded me of that day I’d rescued him from the hotel room. How startled and shaken I was then. How startled and shaken I am now. What the hell is going on? Why is he being like this?
‘Are you ever going to put me first?’ he asked.
What?! ‘Jen gets so miserable when Matt goes away. She needs me.’
‘I need you. But that doesn’t seem to matter. She calls and I’m relegated.’
My body contracted momentarily at the venom in that one word, this was my best friend he was talking about. ‘She? This is Jen. You know, our friend.’
‘No, you see, Jen is my girlfriend’s best friend. Then she’s my best friend’s girlfriend. Then she’s my friend. Two other people come before her. Namely you, then Matt.’
What Jen had been saying over lunch about Greg avoiding them floated across my mind. And then there was Greg’s reaction to Jen and Matt moving in together. It could only mean one thing. ‘Have you and Jen fallen out?’
‘No,’ Greg said quickly, his eyes avoiding me.
This was scaring me. ‘You can’t even look me in the eye when you say that. Why are you being like this?’
Now that it’d been pointed out to him, he turned his attention to me. His eyes and face were aflame with anger. Without meaning to I recoiled a little.
‘Because Jen treats you like dirt, and it pisses me off. She stands you up to go out with Matt; sets you up on blind dates; and she’s constantly making digs at you. If she was a boyfriend, you’d have chucked her by now.’
‘Jen and I have always been like this. If we do take the piss out of each other, it’s not serious. We understand each other. We’re best mates.’
He pursed his Jelly Baby lips for a moment then, ‘Whatever,’ he said on the crest of a frustrated sigh. He went to the doorway, snatched up his jacket, shrugged it on. He dragged his hands through his hair in frustration. (I’ll bet that’s why he had long hair, for times like this. Thankfully I didn’t say that – it would have been grounds for an instant chucking.) ‘I’ll have to drive down the long way so that Jen doesn’t see me. Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it.’
My heart stopped. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
His eyes found mine again. ‘When I was only your friend you’d move heaven and earth to be with me. Maybe I should go back to that. At least then I’d stand a chance of coming first once in a while.’
Then he was gone. Magicked out of my flat in a haze of fury. No goodbye. No kiss. I stared at the door. Waiting. Waiting . . . Nothing. He’d gone. I closed my eyes and rested my chin on my knees. He’d really gone.
Greg was angry with me. So angry he was going to finish with me. I could feel it. Anyone who’d experienced the last two minutes would’ve felt it: he was going to dump me. He did have a point, I did put Jen first. But she was my best friend. She was the one who’d listened in those moments when I wanted to talk about my family. She was the one who’d helped me through the major break-ups in my life. She’d always been there. She’d always be there. She was the reason I’d met Greg. She’d been there first – she got first dibs on my time.
Greg got a very close second dibs, though. He knew that, didn’t he? I’d patched him up when Nina went for him with a knife. I hadn’t wanted to. I’d wanted to slam the door in his face and hide until he went away, but I didn’t. That was one of the hardest moments of my life. I’d gone back to being part of a violent trio for him.
And then there was the time he’d asked me to go for a HIV test with him a few months ago. We went back for the results and I’d held his hand as we sat in the waiting room. He quivered so much that holding his hand made me shake. ‘It was only the once,’ he kept murmuring. ‘The only time I’ve been unsafe, it’s bound to be positive.’
‘You don’t know that,’ I whispered.
‘Everything will fall apart if I’m positive, Amber. My whole life is over.’
‘No it’s not,’ I replied. I put an arm around him, kissed his face. ‘You’ll always have me. You know I’ll always be there, no matter what.’ Inside, though, I was jelly. I wasn’t sure how I’d deal with it. Of course I’d always love him, and always be there, but how would I deal with him falling apart? I’d probably fall apart in sympathy. He’d been clutching my hand when the doctor gave him his negative result and he’d leapt out of his chair and almost squeezed the life out of me. I’d excused myself and gone to the loo and stood over the sink willing myself not to cry. I’d been living it too. I was up for the test too, because I loved him so.
The buzzer made me jump again. Jen entered bearing wine, chocolate, videos and a host of beauty products. I wasn’t in the mood nor gagging for Jen any more. I wanted Greg back. I wanted to tell him how important he was. How close a second
he came to Jen. He’d get second billing in the movie of my life. He wouldn’t be an ‘also starring’, his name would be a ‘starring’, too.
‘You all right, sweetie?’ Jen asked at one point.
‘Hmm?’ I replied, looking up at her.
‘You seem really upset. Are you OK? Is there owt I can do?’
‘I’m fine,’ I replied. I pulled my duvet up over myself. Jen reached off the sofa, where she was huddled under my other duvet, and stroked her slender fingers through my black hair. Like I’m a puppy. The thought entered my mind fleetingly so left before it had time to settle. I didn’t want to be pissed off with Jen because I was pissed off with Greg. Or, rather, Greg was pissed off with me and I was scared about what that meant.
‘I’m glad we did this,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘Yup,’ I replied.
‘You can talk to me, you know? Come on, tell me what’s up.’ Jen’s eyes, the colour of blue topaz crystals, met my black-brown eyes. I wanted to tell her. It was on the tip of my tongue. Tell her everything. It was a ridiculously big thing to keep from Jen. She should know this.
‘It’s . . . I . . .’ But if I told her everything, that I was with Greg and that he’d walked out on me, then I’d have to explain why he’d walked out on me, why he was pissed off: ‘Greg’s jealous that I put you first’, and so open another can of worms I didn’t know how to close. I was still wrestling with the first can of putting Jen before Greg. My eyes fell away from hers, returned to the TV. ‘It’s nothing, really. A work thing. It’ll be reet. But thanks, though.’
‘OK,’ Jen replied quietly.
Teary. I was teary. It’d been two hours since my first row-like experience with a lover. Can’t say I’d ever rowed with anyone before. Not properly. Maybe the odd sniping session like the night we were almost arrested; possibly the odd sarcastic comment too far. Not out and out rowing. Not that I’d said much in this row with Greg. I never rowed with Sean either. Except that one time I told Greg about, the great Jackie Brown Row. And, even then, when he’d been shouting I’d sat staring at him with a multitude of insults and downright evil thoughts running through my head but never voiced them. Sean had been trying to goad me into shouting back at him, but that’d been because we weren’t really rowing or breaking up over Jackie Brown. JB was the symptom, not the cause. It was the thing that had finally broken the proverbial camel’s back, but it wasn’t what he was really mad about. That was the only time we’d come close to rowing because, as Sean was shouting at me, I’d almost said the evil things; almost said he should look at himself before he stood in my home, my castle, telling me about myself.
We’d never gone down the slamming doors, raising voices, throwing words that couldn’t be taken back route. Because I wouldn’t. He could say what he liked, he could scream what he liked, and I’d look at him. Which would incense him more. It was never a two-way thing. Until the day he left me.
I didn’t want to do that with Greg. I didn’t want to drive him away. Didn’t want to be waiting for the moment I drove him away.
If Jen wasn’t there, I would’ve been going through my mad woman in a relationship routine: pacing the floor, biting my nails, flitting between nausea and tears. The more I thought about it, the more panicked I got. I’d done it again, I’d driven someone away.
‘We should’ve asked Greg over,’ Jen said, stroking her finger through my hair again. ‘He’s practically a girl. I’m sure he’d have loved having a face pack.’
‘Yeah, I’m sure he would,’ I said.
chapter seventeen
balance
‘Usually, when I row with a girlfriend, I apologise straight away so we can make up. But I’m not going to do that in this case.’
He sat across the room as he spoke and didn’t seem to notice that at two in the morning I was fully dressed and wide awake. I’d actually been pacing the flat gnawing my fingers, wondering if I should call him when he’d arrived. He hadn’t called all day and all night, so when he turned up it’d been a royal relief.
‘This isn’t some fling to me, I thought, I hoped, we were moving towards something. A relationship. I care about you.’ He paused, obviously waiting for me to jump in with an, ‘I care about you too.’
He got nothing. If he was going to bollock me, then I wasn’t going to exhibit any emotion, particularly not affection. Being told off didn’t work like that, not in my universe.
His face registered something. Possibly surprise, possibly anxiety. Hard to read his feelings. I wasn’t used to this part. Nobody walked out then came back to tell me off. They generally told me off, then walked out and I rarely saw them again. Sean being the exception, for I saw him loads of times after a falling out, and we simply never talked about it. With Sean and me, any one-sided argument we had was generally forgotten the second we saw each other again. Not the case with Gregory and me, apparently.
‘This is a new relationship, but it’s still a relationship. You’re my girlfriend, so I think I’ve got the right to expect you to not put other people before me.’
I went to say, ‘But it was Jen,’ then closed my mouth as my better judgement took over. His face suggested this was not the thing to do, interrupt – no matter how valid the defence. That was what being told off was like.
‘All you had to do was say, “I’m on my way out” and she’d have understood. And even if she didn’t, so what? You don’t treat me like that. I don’t care if it’s Jen or Keanu fucking Reeves, if we’re doing something then you don’t tell anyone you’re not busy. You wouldn’t do it to Jen, so don’t do it to me.
‘If you’re having trouble understanding what I’m on about, then I’ll put it this way: you’ve come to see me during the Festival. You’re so knackered you can hardly keep your eyes open and you know you’ve got to get up at the crack of dawn the next day to go meet some director at the airport. But, you’re gagging to see me because you haven’t seen me for what seems like ages. And then two minutes after you’ve got there, Matt calls me and says, “Mate, let’s go out and get pissed, you’re not up to owt, are you?” and I say, “Nah, just about to shag some bird, she can wait.” What would you do? Be understanding? I don’t think so. You’d have my balls on a stick before the sentence was out of my mouth.’
True. I looked down at my hands, which hurt from being tightly clenched in my lap. It was either clenching or wringing.
‘I’ve known Matt a lot longer than you’ve known Jen. He’s closer to me than my own brother. Even then I wouldn’t dump you for him.’
All right, no need to use a sledgehammer to put in a drawing pin. I get the message.
‘Amber, look . . .’ Greg slid off his seat, crawled across the carpet to me. He, with trouble, unclenched my fingers and took my hands in his. ‘I don’t want us to fall out. I just want you to put us first. I’ve not felt like this in ages. I can be totally honest with you, which is why I didn’t apologise so we could have “make up” sex. I want us to be . . .’ He stopped, searching for the right words. ‘Solid.’
‘It won’t happen again,’ I mumbled. It was the best I could manage. I should probably be throwing myself on his mercy, but that wasn’t going to happen. As I wasn’t known for arguing, I wasn’t known for the mercy throwing, either. I’d found that those two things were entwined: you rowed, mercy generally expected to find you flinging yourself about its person. In this case, though, I should be gearing myself up for a bit of that flinging, seeing as I was in the wrong. No matter which way I tried to twist it, I was wrong to tell Jen I wasn’t doing anything.
‘I adore you,’ Greg said. ‘Even when we were only friends I adored you. I want to be with you all the time. Every night for the past week I’ve gone to sleep wishing that coming home meant coming home to you. I’ve woken up and wished I could be with you all the time. I don’t want to be pissed off with you.’
‘I don’t want you to be pissed off with me either.’
‘I sound awful, don’t I? Like I??
?m trying to cut you off from your friends. If it were a genuine emergency I wouldn’t mind. And I suppose I was out of order getting so stressed out. Jen is my friend and one of the reasons I adore you is because you put other people first. Fucking hell, the amount of times you’ve dropped everything to come look after me . . .’ Greg grimaced, hung his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why are you apologising?’
He lifted his head, bluey-black tendrils obscured his face so he flicked them out of the way. ‘For being a hypocritical git.’
‘I know that. Apart from that, why are you apologising?’ I said with a smile.
Greg was such a grown-up. Now he’d said his piece, he was that balanced he saw how out of order he’d been too and said so. Had I thrown myself on his mercy he would’ve said so. Had I done what I did and not thrown myself on his mercy he would’ve said so. He was like that: balanced. I was the sculpted-in-stone type. Once I thought I was in the right it took a feat of almost superhuman strength and reason to convince me otherwise. Had the roles been reversed, I would still be glaring at Greg expecting some kind of blood sacrifice to confirm how sorry he was. I wouldn’t have said my piece, I would have gone through life, gnashing my teeth about it and bringing it up in my head every time Greg pissed me off. Greg was such a grown-up.
I was not.
Greg smiled at my little quip. ‘I do like going out with you, you know,’ I added, before the moment left me. All right, it wasn’t, ‘I adore you’ but it was the best I could do when he was an enigma to me. A code I couldn’t crack. He was inscrutable in that I was never sure of what was going on. There never seemed a clear gain for him. That sounded like Martha’s balance-sheet theory, but I’d thought this before she verbalised it. I could never pinpoint the ‘What’s In It For Me?’ factor for him. Apart from the sex, what did he really get out of it? He made me breakfast almost every morning, he made me tea in a special mug with a lid so I could drink it on the train to work, he ran me baths, he treated me like I was Cleopatra, Julia Roberts and Jennifer Aniston rolled into one. He also told me fairy stories and wanted to know everything about me.