One Day in December(41)

‘Banking,’ Oscar says with a self-deprecating smile. ‘I know. Typical posh wanker, right?’

‘Whatever floats your boat, mate.’

Okay, now that was rude. Sarah looks at Jack sharply, and quite honestly, I could tip his beer right over his annoying head. Oscar, however, is very used to derision around banking, and it rolls off his back.

‘Dull, I know. Not like you, from what I hear? Radio, isn’t it?’

Crisis averted. Jack finally finds the grace to pick up the conversational baton that Oscar has passed him, entertaining us with stories about the radio station and telling us about a more high-profile job he’s ninety-five per cent certain he’s in line for in the summer. He lights up like a flare when he talks about work, more himself, more relaxed, and I’m finally able to relax too. Perhaps the evening might not be a disaster after all.





Jack


Tonight’s all about making a point, isn’t it? Oscar posh-boy double-barrelled twat face. Let me buy you expensive fucking cocktails in my private members’ club, let me drop that I’m a banker casually into conversation, let me stick my tongue down Laurie’s throat when I know you’re both watching. Well, I’m on to you, posh boy, with your floppy black hair and your deck shoes (because who knows when you might need to step aboard someone’s yacht at a moment’s notice).

I think all of this with my cock in my hand at the urinal. I’ve been hiding out in here for the last five minutes, mostly because I know I’m acting like a dick and I don’t seem able to reel myself in. Sarah’s flashing me daggers; I won’t be peeling that dress off her anytime soon. She’s more likely to peel my scalp off, and I can’t say I blame her. I don’t know who’s winding me up more tonight, Oscar with his unshakable good nature and refusal to be needled, or Sarah for the way she’s practically jumping up and down begging to be his new best friend. I can’t help but wonder if she wants to force the same relationship with him that I have with Laurie, and I want to tell her that I’m sorry but you just can’t fake that kind of thing. It took me and Lu years. I pause to stare at myself in the mirror over the basins as I wash my hands and think about that for a second. Laurie and I hardly have much of a friendship left these days. I haven’t been alone with her since that night back in the kitchen at Delancey Street more than a year ago. Sarah accused me of acting like an over-protective big brother, but she’s wrong. I can’t claim to feel brotherly towards Laurie, I forfeited that when I – No, I’m not going to think about that now.

I step out of the gents intent on winding my neck in and run smack bang into Laurie. She doesn’t waste any time.

‘What the hell are you doing, Jack?’ I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this angry. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her shoulders are braced.

I glance over my shoulder towards the door I’ve just come out of. ‘Pissing.’

Her violet eyes spark with annoyance. ‘Pissing me off, more like.’

‘It’s good to see you too,’ I say, flicking into defensive mode.

‘Don’t,’ she hisses. ‘Don’t you dare do that, Jack O’Mara.’ We’re in an upstairs corridor with people milling around us, and she leans in to make herself heard. ‘What point are you trying to make out there, exactly? That you’re cooler, better, funnier? Is it too much to ask that you just be happy for me?’

I shrug. ‘I would be if he wasn’t a twat.’

‘He isn’t a twat. He’s good and he’s kind and I think he might even love me.’

I hear a sound of derision, and I realize too late that it came from me.

‘What?’ She shakes her head, her eyes over-bright with fury. ‘Is it so improbable that someone might actually love me, Jack?’

‘You barely know him.’

She reels as if I’ve punched her.

‘Who made you the expert all of a sudden?’ she comes back. ‘Who are you to tell me if I can fall in love in a minute or a month or a year?’

We stare each other down, and I realize with a sideways jolt that she isn’t the girl from Delancey Street any more. She’s a woman with a life that I’m by and large no longer a part of.

‘Do you love him?’

She looks away, shaking her head because I have no right to ask her. Especially not like this.

‘He matters to me, Jack,’ she says, softer now, and the vulnerability in her eyes makes me feel like a dick.

‘Okay,’ I say, and I mean it. I wish I could pull her into my arms and put our friendship back where it should be. But something in me knows that hugging Laurie isn’t the right move. Instead I grab her hand and look into her stormy eyes.

‘I’m sorry, really sorry, okay?’ And I feel as if I’m apologizing to her not just for this evening, but for everything that’s gone before. For lying about not seeing her years ago on that damn bus, for kissing her in a snowstorm, for always getting it so fucking wrong.

Finally, after what seems like ten minutes, but is probably about ten seconds, she nods and releases my hand.

I smile. ‘Go back downstairs. I’ll be right behind you.’

She nods again and walks away without glancing back.

Laurie has grown up when I wasn’t looking. It’s time for me to do the same.