The Perfect Girlfriend(35)
I return to the pinboard. The photos are divided into past, present and future. Nate’s young self grins at me. He is wearing shorts and a T-shirt and looks happy. Bella had a family photograph on her bedside table. Even then, he had a knowing look in his eyes, a barely concealed confidence.
My past pictures of Bella are cut out of the school yearbooks because she featured prominently throughout them, whether it was to do with drama, cookery, academic achievements or sport. Although she excelled at horse riding, hockey and tennis, her real strength was swimming. She was horrified when she discovered my secret shame, my inability to swim.
‘But I thought everyone learned when they were young?’ she said in the mocking tone of voice she’d started using more frequently when addressing me.
I had to arrive for swimming lessons fifteen minutes earlier than everyone else, so that I could have extra tuition, and during the main lesson I was stuck in the shallow end like a toddler. One time, when I emerged from the smelly, damp changing rooms, the pool was deserted – apart from Bella, who was never afraid of rules because, of course, they didn’t apply to her. I sat on a bench at the side, waiting for Miss Gibbons, but there was no sign of her as the clock ticked away the minutes.
Bella saw me. ‘Come in, I’ll watch you,’ she said, beckoning me into the pool.
I wanted to say no, but I never did to Bella. So, slowly, reluctantly, I climbed down the ladder and eased myself into the water at the shallow end. I shivered. A reel of memories unravelled, slowly at first. Then faster, until they collided. I decided to be braver, to edge towards the deep end, egged on by Bella. Water shot up my nose, stinging the back of my throat. As I lifted up my head, I was aware of Bella. I caught a flash of her navy swimsuit before our limbs felt locked together and we both disappeared beneath the water.
I forced myself to open my eyes and, mercifully, the blurred edge of the swimming pool came into sight. I reached up and gripped the edge as hard as I could.
I felt myself being helped out. Miss Gibbons. Sitting on the edge, shivering, I coughed so much that I thought I was going to be sick. I could barely hear Miss Gibbons rant at me and thank Bella.
Although I had no proof, I strongly suspected Bella had read my diary and wanted to scare me. I’d found it facing upwards at the bottom of my desk and I always put it face down. My guilt about Will had been exposed and it felt terrifying to have my own words – It was my fault – misinterpreted, as though she’d decided I was some kind of murderer.
It had been getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that Bella was a nasty piece of work, that she’d tired of me the way that some people do of a pet. A catty comment here, a snigger there. My drawers messed up in our dorm, my deodorant or toothpaste missing. I tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening, to keep a stiff upper lip and hope she and her gang would tire of it. But now I had to face up to the fact that my loyalty had been severely misplaced. And because of that, I don’t know who I hated more: her or myself.
That night, I ripped out some pages of my diary and tore them into tiny pieces. Earlier sections detailed my fantasies for the future, my frustrations about my mother, and the difficulties of looking after my annoying little brother. And what happened to Will. The stress, the fear of the worst mistake I had ever made, my own damning words, being read by Bella and any others, burned like acid almost constantly inside my stomach.
And that wasn’t even the worst thing that she did.
I need to focus and concentrate on the present if Bella is to fully pay for the past. Month by month, small action by small action, I’m getting closer.
Ditto when it comes to my future with Nate. Which is why it makes total sense that Katie must go. I dismiss idea after idea, until I think of something that could work because Nate is going to stay at the New Forest hotel on the eve of Bella’s party to catch up with old school mates.
A calmness descends as I update my POA.
Sometimes, now that I have a bit of distance from the situation, I wonder why I persist with Nate. The conclusion I always return to is that, if I hadn’t seen below the surface – to the man who can be kind, funny, tender and caring – then, of course, it would have made it harder. But, I love him. I’ve accepted that I simply can’t fight destiny. And, because I am temporarily powerless, a honey trap seems a viable solution to ease Katie on her way out, as it will force her to experience Nate’s weakness and vanity first-hand. And simultaneously give Nate a valuable life-lesson on how it feels to be dumped.
12
On Nate’s birthday – the fifteenth of June – after a further eight intensive driving lessons, I pass my driving test. Finally, I am able to go and collect my car. A present for myself, seeing as I can’t buy Nate a proper gift. I pull away from a car showroom with the roof down, wearing Sophia Loren-style sunglasses.
Twenty minutes later, I’m already lost; the talking map screen goes blank. I pull into a garage and ask a mechanic how to reset the navigation system properly. Before I pull away, I call Amy.
‘Hi, fancy coming for a spin in my new car?’
She hesitates. ‘Sorry, I can’t. My mum is coming to visit and . . .’
‘Maybe later, then?’
‘I’m not sure.’
I feel a slight sense of unease as I hang up. Amy didn’t sound herself, as though someone else was with her. I like Amy, I really do, but sometimes she can be a bit selfish. The sort of person who, if you ask how they are, tells you in too much detail. I call the estate agent and ask if I can view the properties they’ve lined up for me earlier than arranged. I type Richmond into the satnav and set off.