The Other Woman(24)

Me: Lovely! I wouldn’t knock it, you’re surprisingly alike.

J: Eh? How come?

Me: Fraser and Ewan are the very same as you and Adam. The apples don’t fall very far from that particular tree.

J: Oh, well that’s a bit awkward as they’re both adopted.

Me: Oh my God – I’m so sorry, I had no idea.

J: You didn’t comment on a resemblance, did you? They’re super-sensitive.

I ransacked my brain, desperately trying to remember whether I had or not. It would have been a typical comment for me to make, a way to make idle conversation.

Me: I hope not. I feel really bad now.

J: You’d know if you had, cos Fraser would have gone for you. He’s got a real short fuse that one.

I had to assume that I hadn’t said anything, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

J: You still there? James asked, after I’d been quiet for a few minutes.

Me: Yep

J: And you didn’t say anything about Auntie Linda being married to her brother, did you?

What? The little sod.

Me: Oh very funny!

J: Had you there though didn’t I?

Me: No! Not sure how that side of your family are so nice?!? You should go see them more often. You could learn a lot!

J: I can’t. I get a nosebleed whenever I go north of the River Thames.

I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh.

J: You ready for Adam’s party? Got your dress?

Me: Yes. Have you got yours?

J: Ha ha . . . mine’s red, just so you know. I don’t want us clashing.

Me: You wearing your hair up or down?

J: Oh definitely up. Do-ups are all the rage these days.

Me: It’s not a do-up, it’s an up-do!

J: It’s the same difference.

Me: Will Chloe be coming? I had no idea why I’d asked that, and instantly wanted to retrieve the message, but it was too late.

J: Yep, she’ll be there. I think she’s wearing blue so we should be OK.

The tone of the conversation had changed, and I suddenly felt like a petulant child wanting to go back to how it was.

Great, I typed. I’ll be sure to say hello.

The mention of his girlfriend seemed to throw us both off kilter as he came back with a winking emoji and a kiss.

I didn’t respond.





11

‘Happy Birthday dear Adam, happy birthday to you.’ The chorus turned to applause and calls of ‘speech, speech’ rang out around the rugby club.

Adam put his hands up and walked across the dance floor to the mic. ‘Okay, okay. Ssh, settle down. Thank you. Thank you.’

‘Get on with it,’ cried out Adam’s best mate and fellow prop, Mike. ‘Bloody hell, he speaks with the same speed he uses on the pitch . . . Slowwwwly.’

All the rugby boys cheered and slapped each other’s backs, like Neanderthals around a cave fire.

I smiled along with the rest of them, but shared the same resignation as the other girlfriends there, all of us knowing that, at some point in proceedings, all our boyfriends, bar none, would have their underpants round their ankles, swigging beer and singing ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’. I’d only been down to the club three times, but Adam had exposed himself on every occasion. I looked towards Amy, Mike’s girlfriend, and we both rolled our eyes. I’d met her once or twice before, but I’d never seen her all dressed up. She made a great show of flicking her long brown hair back over her shoulders, revealing a pair of breasts that strained against the confines of the barely-there triangles of her black dress. I eyed the thin spaghetti straps that were having to work hard to keep the garment in place, and couldn’t decide whether I wanted them to snap to expose her assets, or stay steadfast so that every male in the room didn’t have a heart attack.

‘Your mum’s having a bit of a hot flush,’ Pippa whispered into my ear, interrupting my jealous thoughts. ‘Am I all right to open one of the windows?’

I looked across to the table my lot had commandeered, in the darkest corner of the room. They were happy there, hunkered down, away from the bawling masses. Dad was nursing a pint of bitter, his second and last one, Mum had reminded him, whilst she was sitting protectively beside a silver ice bucket with a bottle of prosecco in.

‘To celebrate us finally meeting,’ Adam had announced as he’d presented her with it, its poshness at odds with the spit and sawdust of its surroundings.

I’d watched him, so at ease, and wondered why it had taken so long to introduce them. On the three previous occasions we’d set something up, Adam had been called into work on two of them and had had to placate his mother on the third.

‘Em, it’s me,’ he’d said breathlessly, when he’d called as I sat waiting in C?te Brasserie in Blackheath. Mum and Dad had been on their way.

‘Hi,’ I’d smiled. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m sorry babe, I don’t think I’m going to make it.’

I’d thought he was joking around. He knew how much I’d wanted him to meet my parents. I’d been sure he was playing, but my stomach had lurched all the same.

‘It’s just that Mum has got herself all in a state.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I’d said, trying desperately hard to keep the anger from my voice, all the while smiling through gritted teeth.