The Perfect Girlfriend(22)

The girls all came from the same background, they just knew the right things to say and do, just knew they all had the potential to do well with effortless ease. They skied, they spoke fluent French and they knew how to bake soufflés.

I tried to fit in – to say and do the right things – but the more I got it wrong, the worse it became. I was clumsy and tongue-tied around them. I’d lie in bed at night, pretending to be asleep, whilst listening to conversations about boys, make-up, fashion, music and teachers they liked or disliked, trying to think of ways to join in.

And, when that didn’t work, I began to think of other options.

‘Here’s your coffee,’ Stephanie says, returning and placing a mug on her desk. ‘Right, let’s get on . . .’

‘How long have you worked here?’ I ask, leaning forward and taking a slow sip.

‘A few years. If you finish off that form, I’ll run through a few things and then I’ll get someone to show you around.’

‘Can’t you? It would be nice to catch up.’

‘Well . . .’

‘You are the manager,’ I say, smiling.

‘It will have to be quick, I’m afraid. I have another appointment,’ she glances up at the clock on the wall, ‘soon.’

‘Thank you.’

After I’ve completed and signed the forms, she leads me into the main gym area and I nod politely as she points out the latest equipment, indicates the exercise class studios and mentions personal training and induction sessions. I follow behind as we descend the stairs to view the pool. I could push her. It would take a violent shove, but if I did it properly she’d take quite a fall. I look up at the dark, rounded lens of the security camera.

‘Are you in contact with Bella or any of the others?’

‘Yes.’

Her work heels clatter on the wooden staircase. My trainers are silent.

‘How is Bella?’

She stops and looks round, as though trying to gauge my reaction. ‘Fine.’

I shrug. ‘Just wondered. It was a long time ago.’

‘She’s about to announce her engagement soon.’

I grip the handrail. ‘Who to?’

‘A wealth management adviser, Miles.’

I’ve noticed him tagged in pictures at various events. He looks like a drip.

I take my phone out of my bag and glance down at the screen. ‘Damn. I have to go. I’ll orientate myself if I join. Let’s keep in touch.’

‘Yes,’ she smiles, turning round to walk back upstairs.

‘Your mobile number?’ I say, pausing outside her office.

‘You can always get hold of me through reception,’ she says. ‘If you need to.’

‘How about Facebook?’ I search. ‘Ah, yes, here you are. I’ve sent you a friend request.’

I stand still. She has no choice but to take out her phone and accept me. Her hands shake slightly.

‘Wonderful. A real pleasure, Stephanie. Super seeing you.’

I walk out and don’t look back.

The journey home shoots by as I delve into her Facebook page.

Thanks to Stephanie, I am able to gain fresh insight into Bella’s inner world. Another door of opportunity has opened itself up to me.

I love the internet; it is my friend.





8


I knew Nate would be home alone. He’d posted his intention to stay in and watch the latest series about a serial killer. Sure enough, his black Jaguar is parked in its usual spot. I pace up and down. We had a conversation once about what old or historical film roles we’d pick, given the choice. His was Russell Crowe’s Maximus Decimus Meridius in Gladiator; mine was Gwyneth Paltrow’s Helen in Sliding Doors.

‘I’d definitely be the one who cut her hair short and dumped him,’ I’d said, basking in the confidence of love. ‘No way would I put up with not being treated properly.’

I once heard someone say that you’re always made to eat your own words; I sincerely hope that’s not true. I don’t want my beliefs twisted round into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Nate still hasn’t drawn the blinds, so I wait, just a little bit longer, hoping to catch even a brief glimpse. I haven’t seen him in the flesh for over a week because I spent two days trapped inside the shoebox, on standby, before I got called out for a Kingston with the minimum two hours’ notice. As the early grey of the unseasonably dull May evening thickens, my patience is rewarded. His silhouette hesitates and I feel sure that he’s looking in my direction. I turn and walk slowly away, although my legs feel weak and the habitual hollowness begins to fill my chest.

Because Nate was born into privilege, it’s not entirely his fault that he takes things for granted. He doesn’t know what it’s like to go without. Everything he wants, he gets. Just like Bella and others like her. Money gives them protection from the inconveniences of life. I try to give Nate the benefit of the doubt, I really try my best. But there are times, like now, when I could pummel him in frustration for wasting our time. I stop and lean against the cold brick wall.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Patience is a virtue. Stick to the plan.

My shoulders relax.

I walk on.

Back home, I message Amy asking if she’d like to come over to Reading next week when our days off match. Our rosters have clashed recently and I haven’t had a chance to see her for weeks. I have a feeling that we could have a fun night out. And possibly, through her, I could follow through with my plans to start widening my friendship net.