The Bridesmaid Pact (13 page)

‘Oh god,’ I said. ‘I’m turning into her, aren’t I? Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. If I don’t have you, I don’t have anyone.’

I turned away and slumped against the front door, feeling like an idiot. As always I had picked the wrong person to hurt. The trouble was, the right person was dead.

‘Caz, don’t be daft,’ said Charlie. He sat down next to me and put his arm around me. ‘You’re not your mum. You’re you. You’re lovely, and funny, and gorgeous. You’ve just been having a tough time lately. That’s all.’

‘And I screw everything up.’

‘Like what?’ he said. ‘You have a good career, and look at this place. You’ve managed to buy this all by your own hard work. You should be proud of yourself.’

I looked at him, so full of tender concern for me. He was always so kind. So thoughtful. I was immensely lucky to have him in my life. My heart lurched, as I felt a sudden rush of heady desire. The thought struck me that I could probably kiss him and he wouldn’t mind. I knew he was thinking the same thing, because he looked away, embarrassed. Guiltily, I thought of Nadia. I didn’t like her, but after Sarah, I vowed I’d never cheat on anyone again. I hadn’t broken that promise and I wasn’t about to start now.

‘You’re right, as always,’ I said. ‘It’s hard to change the feelings of a lifetime.’

I got up and fell down again.

‘Come on, let’s get you inside,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ll make you a coffee, then I’d better go.’

We sat drinking coffee into the early hours. I had slumped on the sofa, and Charlie sat by my side. It seemed natural to lay my head on his shoulder, and he didn’t stop me. My eyes felt heavy, and I kept dozing off.

‘I should go,’ said Charlie, his voice coming from very far away.

‘You should,’ I agreed lazily. But neither of us moved, and so we leant against one another till we fell asleep. It felt cosy and right. He wasn’t mine to have, but I felt like I’d come home.

Doris

‘Do you think Beth will be all right?’ Sarah had joined me for coffee as we were ringing through the list of numbers for recommended flower shops that she’d managed to produce via her vast network of school mum chums.

‘Why do you ask?’ I said while trying to pour the water out of the kettle carefully. I’d had a major spillage the previous day and nearly burnt my hand.

‘I rang her up to see how she was, and I think I made things worse,’ said Sarah.

‘How so?’

‘Well, you know she’s always been a bit funny about me having kids?’ said Sarah.

‘I thought that was just because she was pissed off because you were pregnant at her wedding and kept throwing up,’ I said.

‘Well, so did I,’ said Sarah, ‘but honestly, she bit my head off when I asked if I could help. I suppose it must be hard for her. She sees us getting pregnant no problem, and then she can’t seem to manage it.’

If only you both knew, I thought. The way I felt right now, I’d have happily swapped their lives and problems
with mine. At least they had the chance to put their difficulties right. What chance did I have?

‘It must be hard,’ I agreed, ‘but surely just because it hasn’t worked once doesn’t mean they have to give up, do they?’

‘Oh good lord, no,’ said Sarah. ‘IVF is difficult though, and I think they’ll have to wait a month to try again. There’s only a twenty-five per cent chance of getting pregnant, so if it hasn’t worked, it does up the ante rather. And the more stressed people get, often the less likely it is to work.’

‘Well, with any luck, it will work for them next time,’ I said. ‘Let’s hope so. I feel bad, I hadn’t realized how much Beth wanted this. She’s always been so private about it.’

‘Maybe we weren’t the right people to talk to,’ said Sarah. ‘It can’t be easy talking about how you’re not getting pregnant to people who clearly find it a doddle. Oh god, I hope I haven’t really pissed her off.’

‘She was probably just upset,’ I said. ‘It’s not like Beth to hold a grudge.’

‘True,’ said Sarah.

‘And it’s not like you to be so sensitive,’ I said. ‘How are things at home?’

‘Not great,’ said Sarah, pulling a face. ‘I’m trying to pluck up the courage to tell Steve I want a divorce. But it’s not that easy.’

I whistled slowly. Sarah had often confided in me about her difficulties at home, but much as I wanted her to make a break from Steve, somehow I never thought she would.

‘Steve, I want a divorce,’ I said. ‘There. Easy.’

‘Oh shut up,’ said Sarah. ‘I have at least enrolled on a back to work course.’

‘Well that’s a start,’ I said.

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ said Sarah. ‘Now, enough about me, we need to crack on and find you some flowers.’

After making dozens of phone calls we had a shortlist of three. The one I liked the sound of the most was a lady called Mrs Trim from Rose & Thorns. She sounded about a hundred and was the most positive and enthusiastic person I’d spoken to. I arranged to meet her the next day.

‘Sorry I can’t help you tomorrow,’ said Sarah. ‘I’ve got Sam’s assembly to go to, and then some wretched PTA thing. Can you manage alone?’

‘I think I can cope,’ I said, laughing.

But when she’d left and I went to put the things away in the dishwasher, I dropped both our cups on the floor. Suddenly I wanted to rage at the world. It was so insidious the way this was affecting my life. Not for the first time I wondered if marrying Darren was the right thing to do.

‘How lovely to meet you, my dear,’ said Mrs Trim, ushering me into the back of her tiny shop, which exploded with flowers of all colours and hues, from tall purple irises, soft violet and yellow freesias, pink and yellow chrysanthemums, roses of every shade, massive daisies and small delicate handmade posies of gypsophila entwined with pinks. The smell was gorgeous. It was like coming into an inside garden, and despite the rainy gloom of the day, it felt like summer had come at last. I was in heaven

I fell instantly in love with Mrs Trim, a tiny little lady of indeterminate age, but I judged around seventy.

‘Do call me Ivy,’ she said, as she gurgled over Woody, which endeared her to me even more. We’d had a fractious morning. Him with his teeth which had kept us both awake half the night, me with my clumsiness, which today had
found me slipping in the kitchen and dropping a pint of milk. It was soothing being in Ivy’s presence. She supplied milk for Woody and tea and biscuits for me. She even found a set of toy bricks to keep him occupied.

‘So, do you have a theme in mind?’ Ivy asked, as we sat down to look through photos.

I laughed.

‘You could say that,’ I said. ‘I love fairytales, you see. My fiancé thinks I’m mad, but I’m going for a Disney theme. I even have a Cinderella dress, white with pink roses. It’s a replica of one I had as a child.’ Much as I loved the blue, in the end the lure of a traditional white dress had been too much. I’d kept the blue shoes though.

‘Ooh, lovely,’ Ivy clapped her hands. ‘You could have some of these baby pink roses, with some lilies or gypsophila.’ She grabbed a few flowers and expertly wound them into a spray.

‘Which would you rather, a spray like this, or a drop bouquet?’

She produced pictures of bouquets of various shapes and sizes. I oohed and aahed over them. It was going to be a tough choice.

Eventually I plumped for a drop bouquet with pink and white roses entwined with pink lilies.

‘A perfect choice,’ said Ivy with satisfaction. ‘I shall so enjoy working on it for you. So what about the dashing bridegroom?’ said Ivy.

‘Ah,’ I said, ‘the dashing bridegroom is still mad at me for making him wear white…’ Darren had been furious when I’d suggested it, but I refused to countenance another suggestion from my knight in shining armour.

Darren
. It hadn’t just been Woody’s teeth keeping me
awake. More and more often of late, I’d found myself unable to sleep as I fretted over what was to happen to me, and how Darren would be able to cope, and whether it was something I could really ask him to do.

Suddenly, sitting there in Ivy’s little lounge, I was overcome with doubt. Was I doing the right thing by marrying Darren? Wouldn’t it be fairer to let him go and find someone else, someone who wasn’t likely to get ill and become handicapped, and eventually die a miserable death? Someone who could be a proper mum to his children? Because if he stayed with me, the likelihood was there would be only Woody. But then if Darren left me, who’d look after Woody, when I couldn’t any more? I loved Darren with all my heart and soul, and I knew he loved me more than anyone deserved. But was it going to be enough?

‘Are you all right, my dear?’ Ivy must have caught my sudden change of mood.

‘It’s just…oh. Dammit. I’m not sure I should go ahead with the wedding.’ To my consternation, I burst into tears. I never ever cry. Crying is for other people. I’m the happy perky friend who wipes away everyone else’s tears.

‘There, there, dear,’ said Ivy, patting my hand and passing me a tissue. ‘You’re not the first bride who’s sat here crying. It’s a stressful time getting married. The important thing is, do you still want to do it?’

‘Oh I want to,’ I said. ‘More than anything in the world I want to marry Darren. It’s just I’m wondering whether I
should
.’

‘I don’t follow,’ said Ivy.

‘I have MS,’ I said. ‘No one knows but Darren. In a few years I could be in a wheelchair. It’s quite possible I’ll die young. I just don’t know whether I can put Darren through
all that. It’s all been so sudden. One minute we were happily planning our wedding and then this hit us between the eyes. I just don’t know what to do. My dad had MS and I saw what caring for him did to my mum. I love Darren too much to want to do that to him.’

‘Darren isn’t your mum,’ said Ivy. ‘You’re also still young and where there’s life there’s hope, I always say. Besides, isn’t it up to your young man to say whether or not he wants to help you through this?’

‘I suppose,’ I conceded.

‘And do you know what his answer would be if you put it to him?’ said Ivy.

‘I guess,’ I said.

‘And?’

‘I know he’d say yes,’ I said.

‘Well, there you are then,’ said Ivy. ‘Marrying Darren won’t make you better, but neither will not marrying him. If he’s prepared to give it a go, so should you.’

I thought about everything Ivy had said on the way home. When Darren came home I’d already got Woody into bed, lit the candles on the dining room table and prepared a proper meal for us, rather than my normal haphazard chucking-something-from-the-freezer-into-the-oven routine.

‘What’s all this in aid of ?’ Darren asked.

‘To say I love you.’ I went to kiss him.

‘Not yet.’ Darren held his hands up firmly. ‘I need to wash the germs of five million Londoners off me first.’

‘Oh get away with you,’ I said, ‘as if they could give me anything worse than what I’ve already got.’

‘Oh Dorrie.’ Darren immediately folded me into his arms. ‘If I could make this all better for you, I would.’

‘I know,’ I said, biting my lip. I didn’t want to cry. I tried perky brightness instead. ‘So, how was your day then?’

‘The usual. Looked at a lot of germs down a microscope. Talked to people about possible endgame scenarios if terrorists ever develop germ warfare. How about you?’

‘I saw the flower lady,’ I said.

‘Any good?’

‘Brilliant,’ I said. ‘I’m really happy with the flowers I’ve chosen. She was really kind and understanding. I even told her about my MS.’

‘Good,’ said Darren, ‘I think it’s healthier for you to tell people.’

He pulled me close to him again.

‘So, you’ve sorted out the flowers, that’s one less thing to worry about.’

‘I suppose so,’ I said. ‘I really wish I could sort out the bridesmaid situation as easily.’

‘I thought you said the girls seemed to be getting on well,’ said Darren.

‘Well they are,’ I said. ‘But I told them all in Paris that I didn’t want to have bridesmaids.’

‘Tell them you’ve changed your mind,’ said Darren.

‘I’d like to,’ I said, ‘but I’m still not sure it’s a good idea. Caz can be so volatile and she’s having a hard time right now. And Beth seems a bit scratchy with Sarah at the moment. I just don’t want anything to ruin our day.’

‘What about your cousin’s daughters?’ said Darren.

‘I did say I didn’t want to ruin our day,’ I laughed. ‘Those kids are wild. If Mum wasn’t so spaced out at the moment, she’d never have suggested it.’

‘She’ll get better,’ said Darren without much conviction. He loved Mum nearly as much as I did, but we both despaired
of ever pulling her out of the deep depression she’d fallen into since Dad died.

I sighed. ‘It’s ironic. Most brides to be spend their time fending off their mum’s interference. I’d kill to have her show a bit of proper interest.’

‘You know the doctor said it would take time,’ said Darren.

‘I think that’s half the problem,’ I said. ‘She has so much time to think and so little to do since Dad died. If only I could get her interested in the wedding, I’m sure it would help.’

‘Maybe you could take her with you next time you have to see the flower lady,’ said Darren.

‘Maybe,’ I said. I paused. Everything I’d talked about with Ivy came flooding back. ‘You do still want to get married, don’t you? I’d really understand if you changed your mind.’

‘Hang on, where’s this come from all of a sudden?’ said Darren.

‘I just can’t help thinking about my illness and what a big impact it’s going to have on you,’ I said. ‘I will understand if you don’t want to go through with it.’

‘We’ve been through all this,’ said Darren firmly. ‘I would still want to marry you if you had two heads and a blue bottom. Get that into your head, you silly woman.’

‘But—’

‘Sshh. But nothing.’ Darren held his finger to my lips. ‘For better for worse, in sickness and in health, remember? We’re in this together. I’ll be with you whatever it takes. That’s all there is to it.’

Sarah

Knowing what I should do and actually doing something about it were of course two very different things. Every day Steve came home from work and I geared myself to have The Conversation and then bottled it. I even started practising in the mirror, starting with the incredibly (to my ears anyway) clichéd, ‘Steve, we need to talk,’ until William came in and said, ‘Mummy, why are you talking to Daddy in the mirror, he’s downstairs?’

‘I’m not,’ I said guiltily, though why
I
should feel guilty was beyond me.

It depressed me how little notice Steve even took of me any more. I was beginning to realize that I had finally fallen out of love with him, but to be so ignored was really hard. He never noticed how jumpy I was, how tired I seemed after endless nights lying awake worrying about how I’d cope financially if I left Steve. And as for sex, well that was never on the agenda any more.

I would have confided in Beth about it, but I felt a bit edgy round her after our recent phone call. Although we’d spoken since, she’d been distant, and I knew she was
stressing about her failure to get pregnant. I didn’t want to add salt to the wound by going on about my problems.

I also didn’t feel it was fair to impose on Dorrie, who naturally only wanted to talk about weddings when we met. Although Dorrie knew that I was thinking of leaving Steve, now it had actually come to the crunch point, I couldn’t face saying it out loud. It made it seem so final and absolute. So I just carried on with the usual routine: doing the school run, sorting out the house, meeting Dorrie for the occasional coffee and wedding talk. It was easier to pretend everything was normal.

I suppose in a way, I had only myself to blame. Over the years everyone from Caz to my parents had hinted that Steve wouldn’t make me happy, and I’d always papered over the cracks and pretended he could and did. Now I was done with pretending, but like the boy who cried wolf, no one was ever going to believe me.

In the end Steve forced my hand. Dorrie and Darren had invited us to dinner over the May bank holiday weekend. Being Doris, she’d insisted it was going to be a games evening. So long as it wasn’t a Murder Mystery night, I didn’t mind. I’d never quite forgiven her for the Murder Mystery night where Steve ended up playing the murderer who’d killed the lovely young thing he’d been shagging. The lovely young thing in question had been one of Doris’s work colleagues and Steve had spent far more time flirting with her than I would have liked.

This time, Doris had assured me that it was merely going to be things like
Pictionary
and
Trivial Pursuit
.

‘I promise this isn’t a Talk About the Wedding Evening,’ she said as we arrived, although I could tell she was dying
to tell us all about place settings, flowers and the like. I couldn’t blame her. I’d bored for England when it was my turn.

‘Oh go on, you know you’re dying to,’ I said. ‘So, you sorted out the flowers then?’

‘That flower lady was brilliant.’ Doris was off immediately. Steve, in barely disguised disgust, headed for the lounge where there was beer and the promise of male company in the form of Darren.

I heard female laughter coming from the lounge.

‘Are Beth and Matt here already?’ It was a longstanding joke that Beth was always the last one to arrive anywhere.

‘Er, no,’ said Doris. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind.’

Oh my god. My heart started thumping erratically in my chest. Caz was here. And I’d just sent Steve in to her.

‘You could have warned me—’ I said.

‘I was a bit worried you wouldn’t come if I did,’ said Doris. ‘Besides, you have been getting on better, haven’t you? Come on, lighten up, she had to meet Steve again sooner or later.’

‘I suppose so,’ I said, but I didn’t feel convinced. I walked into the lounge feeling like a condemned woman. All my battered self-esteem needed now was to have Steve flirting with my ex-best friend as if the past had never happened.

‘Such a pleasure to see you after all this time,’ Steve was saying smoothly. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ Caz’s smile was sweet. ‘You haven’t changed either.’

What was she doing? She couldn’t be flirting with him, could she? Not after everything she’d said.

I had to look away. I was so disappointed. Caz hadn’t changed and Steve clearly was revelling in the reunion.

‘Caz is looking well, don’t you think?’ Steve said to me.

He looked at me pointedly. He didn’t have to say anything, I knew what he was thinking, I’d heard it so many times before: you’ve let yourself go, you should lose weight, do something about your hair. Steve was full of unsubtle ways of making me feel less than adequate. I’d put up with it for far too long. I picked up the generous glass of wine that Darren had poured for me and headed for the kitchen where Doris was ladling an orange sauce over the duck she was cooking.

‘Do you need any help?’ I asked.

‘No, I’m fine thanks,’ said Doris, ‘but you can stay and chat for a minute, if you like.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t take any more of Steve’s snarky comments about my appearance.’

Doris didn’t comment as she was busy concentrating on picking up the dish with the duck, but her hand seemed to shake a little, and the dish flew out of her hands. I leapt to rescue it, and managed to stop it landing on the floor, but not before we both had a generous helping of orange sauce all over us.

‘Ouch!’ I said. ‘That’s bloody hot.’

Gingerly I put the dish back on top of the oven.

‘Oh, just look at us,’ said Doris. ‘Here, let me give you a cloth and wipe you down.’

By now we were in fits of hysterics, though mine were slightly on the edge of tears. I really didn’t know how I was going to get through the evening.

I was on my knees scrubbing duck fat off the floor when Beth and Matt arrived, for which I was immensely grateful. Beth and I had maintained an uneasy silence since she’d snapped at me about babies and I wasn’t feeling strong
enough at the moment not to take it personally, even though I well knew she had troubles of her own.

I followed Dorrie back into the lounge where she regaled everyone with the tale of the slippery duck, while I slipped into the corner and took a huge sip of wine.

‘Honestly Sarah, you have to cause chaos wherever you go, don’t you?’ Steve’s comment sounded light-hearted to all but my ears, it stung me to the quick.

Over dinner I relaxed a bit. Dorrie had put me between Matt and Darren, and it was a relief to talk comfortably about noncommittal subjects like football, the weather, and global warming without feeling I was going to offend or be offended. Darren was incredibly generous about filling up my glass, so I was soon giggling like an idiot and trying to remember to have a glass of water in a minute. Normally I was the one driving, but we were only ten minutes’ walk from Dorrie’s so we’d left the car at home. I tried not to look Steve’s way. He and Caz still seemed to be flirting with one another. I might as well have not existed. My stomach was in knots as I felt old jealousies reassert themselves.

‘Right, time for games.’ Dorrie clapped her hands as everyone announced that the expert lemon soufflé she’d produced had stuffed them to the gills. ‘Come on Darren, get this lot cleared away.’

I volunteered to help Darren and by the time we’d loaded the dishwasher, Dorrie had
Trivial Pursuit
set up. I hate
Trivial Pursuit.
I am just not geared up for general knowledge at all. Dorrie and Darren of course always do brilliantly on the science, Beth and Caz tend to do well on the arty ones and Steve who is competition personified always does well on sport and geography. Matt tends to be in the dunce’s corner with me.

As there were seven of us, Darren decided it would work best if the rest of us were in pairs, and he was on his own. As he is a total brainbox, this made sense to the rest of us. He elected to keep us in our couples apart from Caz who he put with Dorrie. My heart sank. I knew how sarcastic Steve would be if I didn’t get the answers right.

To begin with things went well. I knew the answer to the film which starred Laurence Olivier, and even got us our first wedge with a momentary flash of inspiration when Steve’s geography deserted him and I worked out that the country which bordered Lebanon, Syria, Jordan and Egypt was Israel.

‘Way to go!’ Steve slapped me on the back rather more enthusiastically than I’d have liked. At least he’d said something positive for a change. After that, our luck ran out.

Caz and Dorrie flew off into the lead, following Dorrie’s ability not only to know what the oldest and most numerous class of animals were (insects), but Caz’s encyclopaedic knowledge of films, knowing as she did, who starred in
Gone with the Wind
and
Streetcar Named Desire
(Vivien Leigh) and which 1972 Marlon Brando film was banned (
Last Tango in Paris
).

Soon they were heading for their sixth wedge and victory, while Darren who seemed to know something about absolutely everything, was close on their heels with his fifth, and even Beth and Matt were on three. In the meantime we were still stuck on one. It wasn’t just that I’d wrongly stated that vampire bats went for the neck of humans (trick question, it’s their toes), or that I didn’t know the phone number of the White House, Steve was doing disastrously too. I’d left him all the sports questions, but he’d got a series of obscure questions like
What does a notaphile collect
?
(bank notes) and
What Swiss town has hosted two Winter Olympics
? (St Moritz).

Being Steve, of course he couldn’t accept that it was his failings as much as mine that had led to our parlous position. So when I wrongly answered that the sequel to
Little Women
was
Jo’s Boys
and not
Good Wives
, an answer he would never have got in a million years, he hissed, ‘Can’t you get anything right?’ I bit back the retort that was on my lips because I didn’t want to have a public row, but I was steaming. How dare he be so rude in front of my friends? It wasn’t the first time, but in the past I’d always given him an excuse for his behaviour, not seen it for what it was, appallingly obnoxious and self-centred.

I sat back and sipped at my wine, and watched with a smile as Caz and Dorrie cleaned up the game, enjoying Steve’s barely suppressed fury when they won.

‘I think we should play something different now,’ he said before Darren, Beth and Matt could complete our humiliation. ‘
Trivial Pursuit
gets so boring after a bit.’

‘Good idea,’ agreed Dorrie. I could tell she was trying to keep the atmosphere jolly, so enthusiastically supported the suggestion of
Pictionary
.

‘Let’s mix it up,’ suggested Steve, ‘to make it more interesting. Why don’t Caz, Darren and I make a team, and Sarah, Matt, Beth and Dorrie make a team?’

Once again I didn’t want to rock the boat and ruin Doris’s evening, so I acquiesced. But I was silently seething when Steve planted himself right next to Caz. I gratefully accepted Darren’s generous topping up of my glass and started to drink with wild abandon, deliberately ignoring Steve’s bitchy asides about my drinking habits. As it happens, I’m quite good at
Pictionary
, but even I couldn’t manage to get
across to Matt that my drawing of an insect was in fact a termite.

‘Never mind,’ said Steve smugly as his team went storming ahead, thanks to a brilliant moment by Caz who managed to interpret Steve’s rather dubious picture of a stick and a tree as beating around the bush. ‘We all know drawing isn’t your strong point.’

I glared at him, but said nothing. I could feel Dorrie squirming by my side.

On the next round Steve’s team wasn’t doing so well. Steve had drawn a heart and someone falling off a cliff, but though the answer was obvious to me, Caz and Darren were stuck.

‘I’ll give you a clue,’ I said cattily, ‘it’s something Steve does often.’

Time ran out and they still hadn’t got it.

‘So what was it?’ Caz wanted to know.

Steve glared at me. ‘Sarah can tell you. It was a stupid one anyway. Falling in love.’

‘Oh, I got it wrong then,’ I said sweetly. ‘I thought it was being a lover.’

The game rolled on. I was beginning to feel rather drunk and wishing I could go home. I could tell everyone else was also starting to flag a little. When it came to my next go, my mind went blank and all I could think to do was draw a picture of Tammy Wynette singing. My teammates remained baffled.

‘Singer?’ said Darren.

‘Music?’ said Beth.

‘Microphone?’ said Matt.

I drew a heart next to it splitting in half.

‘Broken heart?’ said Beth.

‘Yes, go on,’ I said, putting a wedding veil on Tammy.

‘Marriage?’ said Matt.

‘No!’ I said, frustration mounting. I couldn’t think of a clearer way to do it.

‘I know,’ said Steve when the timer ran out. ‘It’s “D-I-V-O-R-C-E” isn’t it?’

‘That’s the one,’ I said, staring him straight in the eyes. The tension between us was palpable and everyone seemed a bit embarrassed. ‘Ironic don’t you think?’

Steve looked at me and said, ‘Sarah, I really think you’ve had enough to drink. It’s time we were going home.’

Suddenly something snapped. How dare he lecture me as to how I should behave?

‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think you have the right to tell me to do anything any more.’

‘Sarah, you’re drunk,’ said Steve stepping forward. ‘Come on, let’s go home.’

‘And you’re a lying shit,’ I said, and threw my glass of wine all over him. My moment of triumph was followed by an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and humiliation. I hated public scenes. What the hell had I done?

‘Oh my god, Dorrie, Darren, I’m so sorry,’ I said and only stopped to grab my things from the hall as I ran out of the house. I ran down to the end of the road and sat on a garden wall, sobbing hysterically. It was cool for May, but I was so fired up I barely felt the cold.

Two minutes later, Steve came marching up the road behind me.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he said. ‘How dare you humiliate me like that?’