Truly Madly Guilty(79)

Instead of the painful little foursome with Erika and Oliver, they’d become an easygoing group of six. It would be so much easier to like Erika and Oliver with Vid and Tiffany around as a buffer. Vid and Tiffany were edgier and rawer (and richer) than all their other nice, normal, middle-class friends. Vid and Tiffany opened up possibilities. Possibilities of exactly what? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. It was like that non-specific anticipatory feeling of being a teenager.

‘So I don’t see how this cremeschnitte could be any better than your strudel,’ said Clementine to Vid as the music billowed and blossomed around her.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah, Clementine, you know I am not one to blow my own trumpet, as the saying goes. Ha ha! Yes I am! I love to blow my own trumpet. Ha ha! I’d be a good trumpet player because I have outstanding lung capacity.’ He banged his chest King Kong style.

‘You’ve got the right personality for a trumpeter,’ said Clementine.

‘You mean he’s full of himself?’ said Tiffany.

‘How many trumpeters does it take to change a light globe?’ said Clementine.

‘How many?’

‘Five. One to change it, and four to stand around and say, “I could do it better”.’

‘How many electricians does it take to change a light globe?’ said Vid.

‘How many?’

‘One,’ said Vid.

‘One?’

‘Yeah, one,’ said Vid. He shrugged. ‘I’m an electrician.’

Clementine laughed. ‘That’s not funny.’

‘But you’re laughing, you know. Anyway, listen, Clementine, you be the judge,’ said Vid. He dug a spoon into the decadent dessert and held it close to Clementine’s mouth. ‘Try it.’

She took a mouthful. It was good. The man cooked like a dream. Clementine pretended to swoon, her hand against her forehead. She let herself fall against his arm and he steadied her. Vid smelled deliciously of cigarette smoke and alcohol. He smelled like an expensive bar.

‘Jesus, this lid is on tight,’ said Sam with gritted teeth, the jar of nuts under one arm like a football.

‘Come on, Muscles,’ said Tiffany.

‘Listen!’ said Vid, his head on one side as the second movement began.

‘You can’t exactly dance to this, though, can you?’ said Tiffany.

Clementine tried to imagine Tiffany dancing in some dark, smoky club, mirrored disco balls hanging from the ceiling. Where did she get that idea from? She’d never actually been in a strip club. All her knowledge came from TV shows. She looked around. Erika and Oliver weren’t there to look disapproving. This was her chance to find out more. She was a tiny bit tipsy, she knew it, but this was fascinating, amusing, and she wanted some fun lowbrow tidbits to share with her highbrow friends. She lowered her voice and leaned towards Tiffany. ‘Did you used to do … you know, what are they called?’ She knew perfectly well what they were called. ‘Lap dances?’

Tiffany looked back at her speculatively.

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Why? Do you want one?’





chapter forty-three



‘We can’t find stuff because we keep too much stuff,’ said Sam. ‘We need to have regular throw-outs. We need to declutter.’

He went to Holly’s chest of drawers, pulled out an entire drawer, dumped the contents on her bed and picked up a T-shirt at random. ‘See! She never wears this. She says it’s all scratchy.’

‘This isn’t helping me find her strawberry top,’ said Clementine, looking at the mound of clothes. It made her think of Erika’s mother. You could almost understand how you could lose control of your possessions until it was just so overwhelming you didn’t even know where to start. ‘This is just making a mess.’

Sam tried to pull out another drawer, but it jammed. He pulled harder and swore. The chest of drawers rattled. There was something disturbing about seeing him there in his business pants but no shirt, pulling violently on the little white drawer, his jaw clenched, his muscles flexed. For heaven’s sake!

‘Leave it!’ said Clementine. ‘You’re going to break it!’

He ignored her and yanked again, and this time the drawer finally came free and he dumped another pile of clothes on the bed.

‘You know what I was doing,’ he said suddenly, standing there with the empty drawer hanging from his hands. ‘Just before it happened?’

Oh God.

‘You were trying to open a jar of nuts,’ said Clementine dully. She knew this. He’d told her this before. She didn’t know why he kept bringing up the jar of nuts. It had nothing to do with anything.

‘I was so desperate to open that f*cking jar,’ said Sam. ‘I had beads of sweat popping on my forehead, because I knew Vid would take it off me and he’d just open it with one twist of a meaty hand, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him.’

‘What?’ said Clementine. This was new. ‘Don’t pretend you were doing it for me. It was for her. It was to impress Tiffany!’

‘Yeah, and what were you doing? Tell me that! What were you doing?’ He slammed the empty drawer on Holly’s bed, stepped towards her and loomed over her. She felt little flecks of spit land on her face.