The Two Lives of Lydia Bird(30)

‘What do you think of this?’

Elle holds up a hot-pink boob tube. It’s scattered with glittery cherries made of red sequins that catch the department store lights.

‘Fine,’ I say. ‘If you’re eighteen and in Ibiza.’

‘I’m not, and I’m not,’ she says, sliding it back on the rail. ‘Do you think I look old?’

‘You’re thirty, Elle, not eighty.’ I shake my head. ‘Besides, you’ve got one of those faces that never age.’

She looks at herself in a nearby mirror. ‘You think so? I feel about a hundred when I’m on the early shift at work.’

Her new job at the hotel has her keeping odd hours; they’ve catered back-to-back weddings across the long, hot summer. I haven’t seen as much of her in recent weeks. I’ve missed her letting herself in and filling the fridge with things I’ll probably forget to eat. I understand, of course. In the beginning everyone was on Lydia-watch twenty-four seven but trying to fill the Freddie-sized hole in my life inevitably created holes in the fabric of their own. Elle and David haven’t been married for very long; I suspect that between visiting me and the demands of her job, David has been lamenting the strain of not seeing enough of his wife. The idea of being a burden weighs heavily on my shoulders.

‘You need to buy the boob tube.’ I pull it from the rack.

She looks at me, quizzical. ‘Why?’

‘In fact, I’m going to buy it for you.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she laughs.

‘I’m not,’ I press on. ‘I’m serious, Elle. I’m going to buy it, then tonight you’re going to wear it with your skinny jeans and skyscraper heels and make David’s eyes fall out of his head.’

‘I am?’ She looks doubtful.

‘Yes. Yes, you are.’

We join the back of the queue at the till.

‘Come out with us tonight,’ she says, linking her arm through mine.

I swipe my damp fringe out of my eyes and wish the shop had air con. ‘Okay,’ I deadpan. ‘Let me just go and see if they have another boob tube. One with gooseberries on.’

‘Don’t ever say that,’ she frowns, quick to correct me. ‘You’re never a gooseberry with us.’

She means it, and David has been a part of our family long enough for me to know he’d say exactly the same, but there is no escaping the fact that, sometimes, two’s the magic number. No one knows that better than me.





Saturday 8 September


‘You’re gonna drive me nuts in that dress tonight.’

Freddie slides his hand up my thigh as I park the car in the restaurant car park. It’s a place we’ve been to a few times over the years, a trendy kind of bar/restaurant hybrid, all discreet lighting and slightly uncomfortable chairs.

‘Did you buy it for my birthday?’ he asks, catching hold of my hand as we head towards the entrance.

It was Freddie’s twenty-ninth birthday a couple of days ago. I marked it in my waking life with an after-work visit to his grave; I’m marking it in my sleeping life by taking him to his favourite restaurant and evidently by buying a new blue dress.

‘Of course,’ I say lightly. It takes me a couple of minutes to orientate myself, to read the signs and the scenery of my other life. Freddie’s wearing a shirt I bought him on holiday last year and the scent of his aftershave mingles with my perfume as we step inside the restaurant.

‘Hunter, table for four,’ he says, smiling at the girl behind the welcome lectern. She checks her list and nods, her eyes lingering on Freddie for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary. I’m not worried; it happens a lot. I’m accustomed to the ‘you lucky cow’ side-eye. Freddie’s words register as we follow her through the busy dining tables. Table for four, he’d said. I don’t have to wonder for long who else is making up the party. Jonah gets to his feet as we approach the corner table, laughing as he embraces Freddie in a manly, back-slapping kind of birthday hug. I’m caught behind them momentarily; it’s only when they move apart that I see who the fourth person at the table is. Dee. Yoga teacher Dee.

She catches my eye and smiles, then nips round the guys and tugs me by the hand to sit beside her. She looks different this evening to when I last saw her in my waking life. Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders and her sleeveless black shift makes the best of her toned arms. All that yoga is clearly paying off.

‘I know it’s Freddie’s birthday, but sit next to me? You know how these two get when they’re together.’

Yes, I think, I do, because unlike you I’ve known them over half of my life. It’s not very kind of me and I hope I don’t let my uncharitable thoughts show on my face as I slide into the chair beside hers. I’m on the back foot; I don’t know how well we know each other here. Are we friends? I doubt we’ve been having slumber parties and plaiting each other’s hair, but we must be familiar with each other if I’ve asked her to my fiancé’s birthday dinner. Freddie sits to my other side at the compact square table, squeezing my hand as he takes his seat.

‘Hey, Dee, how’s tricks?’ He smiles easily in her direction.

She laughs prettily. ‘Oh, you know. Lots of that touchy-feely holistic stuff you laugh at me for.’