If I Never Met You(94)
The way he spent money was to guilt you, to indebt you, to bewitch and befuddle you. Only later you’d realise you’d been bought.
Jamie
If you’re a mistake you’re the greatest one ever made. I’m really proud to know you. xx
Laurie’s eyes pricked with tears and her heart soared and she remonstrated with herself, as cartoon stars started to dance around her head: this is a warm friendship. He cares. And you’re vulnerable, and cider isn’t meant to be hot.
He got two kisses after her thank you, though.
A small voice inside her head whispered to her, and she hissed at it to shut up. The voice insisted. Jamie was there on purpose, to see you. He wanted to be there. He knew you were going for Sunday lunch. You said Sunday. Definitely.
Oh, shut up, Laurie nearly said out loud.
I’m not wrong, said the voice.
38
There was a certain type of celebration thrown by people who didn’t do parties and they were significantly worse than those organised by people who liked parties.
The difficulty with Salter & Rowson’s annual Christmas bash was it was conceived by two men in their sixties who never socialised beyond their golf clubs, trying to imagine what people in their thirties might do for a knees-up. It resulted in Greek restaurants with traditional dancing and taramasalata the colour of bubblegum and baskets of dry pitta corners. Or deafening volume wine bars trying to moonlight as mass caterers, serving forty-five turkey risottos with a cranberry jus and parsnip tuile.
This year was at the university, and with its wood panelling and organ and chandeliers, it looked pleasingly like the Hogwarts banqueting hall. The plus, no karaoke. The drawback was that in order to make it profitable, it accommodated multiple companies and hundreds of people.
For all the elegance of the surroundings, it would’ve been tons nicer to have a lesser place to themselves. Hey ho. Or HO HO HO, as the giant illuminated letters on stage had it.
However, it wouldn’t have mattered if they threw tonight’s shebang in the Palace of Versailles, it only mattered to Laurie that Dan was taking Megan. This was confirmed by a message shortly after the company email, asking if it was OK. Wanker. Bastard. One of the worst things about you, Laurie decided, is I thought I was a good judge of character.
But Laurie, so soon after announcing them free agents, could hardly object, and it was face loss to care, anyway. The chutzpah of this woman, too; Laurie couldn’t make the imaginative leap where she thought it was acceptable, let alone desirable, to sit at a table in the same room as Laurie.
‘She’ll have rationalised: we didn’t do anything until they were over, if they were right they wouldn’t be over, and I’m the one with the baby, which is a complete and final answer to what matters here, so stand aside,’ Emily said. ‘None of which makes her any less of a bitch.’
‘Telling me.’
Laurie spent a small fortune on a fire engine red, one-shouldered dress, that pulled in tight at the waist and had a chiffon skirt that flared out in soft folds, in a Strictly Come Dancing sort of way. Laurie felt as if she should be raised overhead in it by a ripped Eastern European hunk, to a big band reinterpretation of a Lady Gaga song. She wore her hair out and big, having gone for a blow-dry. And utilised the siren lipstick that Emily got her. The look was almost comically ‘Thank U, Next’ defiant to an ex, and yet Laurie had no qualms about making an effort, not like her apprehension before The Ivy. Anything less than a pyrotechnical show of strength, when faced with your ex and his pregnant mistress, was unconscionable.
When she removed her outerwear at the coat check, Jamie said: ‘You look utterly, completely hot,’ and seemed to mean it. Laurie could only give him a tense smile.
Jamie was in a black suit, white shirt, black tie. (‘I look like a waiter or a Reservoir Dog but I’m not wearing a tuxedo. Unless you get one made, they never fit, and I’m not wearing a baggy hired one and feeling like I’m in Boyz II Men.’)
‘It’s going to be OK,’ he said quietly, taking her hand, as they entered the main hall.
‘But we split up after tonight!’ Laurie hissed at him, with a smile. They’d reaffirmed that post-Christmas do, it was time to draw things to a close.
‘True. This is so meta,’ Jamie said.
They studied the seating plan and located their table, seeing they’d been put directly next to Michael and his date for the night, a nervy vape smoker called Sam.
Given the bile that Michael had sprayed at Jamie previously, Jamie was extremely gracious and solicitous to both him and Sam, while Michael looked stormy and murderous throughout.
Sam took to Jamie, the way most women did. Laurie noted that as soon as it was in danger of becoming obvious, Jamie found a way to refer back to Laurie and bring her into the conversation, so there was no danger of Michael claiming Jamie had flirted. Except, Laurie was sure that Michael would claim that anyway. Once you despised someone with that sort of Old Testament fervour, you could always find the material.
They were cheek by jowl with lads from Experian, and a six-foot-something giant in a kilt called Angus insisted that, as he and Laurie were back to back, they had to introduce themselves to each other. She shook his hand and felt glad of the merry goodwill all around. However tempting, it would’ve been so wrong to stay away tonight.
Angus angled his chair towards Laurie and made conversation with her until the salmon mousse appeared.