One Day in December(40)
My stomach turns over with dread. ‘In what way?’
Sarah folds her arm across her slender, leather-clad midriff and stands closer to me so we can’t be overheard. ‘I can’t put my finger on it. He’s … distant?’ It comes out as a question, as if she’s asking herself rather than telling me, and she lifts one shoulder, biting her bottom lip. ‘Or maybe it’s me. I don’t know, Lu, I’ve asked him if he’s happy and he just brushes me off as if I’m going crazy or something.’ She half laughs, sounding anything but amused. ‘Just busy, I guess.’
I nod, wishing I had something useful to say. I’m massively unsettled by the idea of trouble in their paradise. In the early days of their relationship I selfishly hoped their romance would be short-lived, but over time their love has become an integral part of the map of my life; a bloody massive island I’ve had to reroute my own path round, yet rely on to locate myself all the same.
‘Did you show Sarah these, Laurie?’ Oscar says, turning to us with his mobile in his hand. He tilts the screen our way as he steps closer and scrolls through images of our perfect ramshackle beach shack, the endless blue ocean and the pink-and-purple-streaked Thai dawn that I know so well.
‘Some of them,’ I say quietly, and Oscar’s eyes are tender when I look up at him. Can he see that I wish with all of my being that we were back there right now, sitting on the steps of the beach shack, burying our toes in the cool sand? They are my favourite memories, those shoulder-to-shoulder hours, those hushed conversations and languorous kisses. It’s unexpected, this stab of longing through the ribs, more so because I’m with Sarah and Jack, who I’ve never wanted to run from before.
I’m surprised by the heat of my anger towards Jack. I want to yank him out of the bar by the sleeve of his cool leather jacket and tell him: Be happy, you stupid, stupid man. And let me be too.
‘God, it looks so amazing,’ Sarah sighs. ‘I’d love to go there.’
Jack drains his cocktail without disguising a mild shudder. ‘I’ll get the beers in.’
Sarah looks as if she’s going to say something, then smiles tightly, catching Jack’s hand as she offers to help him. We watch them pick their way across the busy bar and Oscar slips his arm round my waist, his still half-full glass in his other hand.
‘Okay?’ I ask, hoping he and Jack have hit it off.
He nods. ‘Sarah’s just how I thought she’d be.’
From this, I deduce that I’ve given him the impression that Jack is kind and easy-going, and that so far he’s coming across as guarded and uptight.
‘Did I get it wrong?’ Oscar’s dark eyes cloud with consternation as he studies his drink. ‘We could have met them somewhere else, you only had to say.’
I’m suddenly furious with Jack for being so unfriendly. What the hell is he trying to prove here, with his offensive T-shirt and lightly veiled disdain at the exclusivity of the bar and Oscar’s cocktail choice? That he wins at being cool, even if Oscar is wealthier?
I put my empty glass down and slide my arms round him, relieved when the troubled look in his eyes clears. ‘You got it exactly right, Oscar. This is you,’ I skim my eyes around the bar, ‘and you’re lovely, and I want them to know you just as you are. They’re going to love you, and you them when you get to know them better.’ His hand rubs up and down my arm as I speak. ‘Just relax and enjoy the evening.’
I spy Jack and Sarah coming back, two beers in his hand, more champagne cocktails in Sarah’s.
‘She definitely looks as if she belongs on TV,’ Oscar observes. I try to see Sarah through his eyes as she heads our way, all golden tanned legs and Hollywood curls.
‘Are you sure you chose the right girl?’ I joke. I hate it, but there’s always a part of me wondering why – why would this gorgeous man want to be with someone like me?
He shows a mild flash of annoyance, and I wish I’d just kept my mouth shut. ‘You’re so wrong that I don’t know what to say.’ He softens and his hand moves to cup the back of my neck. ‘You’re always the most spectacular woman to me, Laurie. In any room or any bar or on any beach.’
He dips his head and kisses me, gentle but sure. I close my eyes and for those seconds I feel like the most spectacular woman.
‘Get a room, kids.’ Sarah’s laughter spins light and bright, and I open my eyes again and smile.
‘Blame me,’ Oscar grins. ‘I can’t keep my hands off her.’ He runs his hand from my shoulder down to my hand and catches hold of my fingers.
Behind Sarah, Jack manages to laugh while frowning at the same time, a feat of facial engineering. ‘A proper drink to cool you off, mate.’
Oscar accepts the beer, laughing, good-natured despite Jack’s inference that Oscar’s cocktail hadn’t made the cut as a proper drink.
Sarah hands me a glass of champagne, her eyes giddy with delight about me and Oscar.
Jack lounges against the wall, beer in hand. ‘So what do you do, Oscar? Besides bum around on Thai beaches picking up girls?’ He softens his comment with a wink, but all the same it feels like he’s having a dig.
‘Living with Billy seems to be rubbing off on you, Jack,’ I say, throwing in a none-too-friendly wink of my own. He shoots me a tiny ‘not bothered’ shrug, then looks away.