The Learning Curve (31 page)

‘We were just going, actually,’ said Amanda tightly, pulling him back again.

‘Yeah,’ said Nicky, suddenly tired. ‘I think I might too.’

‘It’s different when you’re a couple,’ confided Amanda. ‘New Year’s Eve is for doing other things, if you know what I mean.’ She winked.

‘Oh, I see.’ Nicky turned to Rob. ‘Back to the Scrabble then.’

Rob roared with laughter and Nicky allowed herself a sheepish grin first at him and then at Amanda. Amanda’s expression was pure hatred. Nicky stopped grinning. Then Amanda’s expression changed into one of sympathy and she took Rob forcefully by the hand and led him into the kitchen. Nicky stood motionless in the garden, struck by the utter crapness of her life. Determined to talk herself out of a dive into depression, she took a grip and started compiling a list of all the good things in her life.

I’ve found a really good lipstick
, she started, when Rob suddenly appeared again and to her amazement, pinned her to the wall. His eyes were wide.

‘Listen carefully,’ he breathed, no sign of a slur. ‘We haven’t got long. She pees from nought to sixty in one second.’

‘Wha—?’

‘Just give me a hug,’ he said, taking her in a fierce, quick bear-hug. ‘Happy New Year, Nicky. I love you to bits.’

The kitchen door opened and Rob suddenly sprang away from her as if his pants had just been set on fire. He beamed maniacally up at the door.

‘Hi, darling!’ he exploded.

Nicky looked at him sadly, and then, with a guilty expression – even though she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about – she followed his gaze to the door. To her amazement, instead of finding herself looking up at Amanda, she found herself staring at Mark Samuels himself.

‘Oh, thank fuck for that!’ laughed Rob. ‘We thought you were – HI, DARLING!’

‘Hi,’ said Amanda, peering at him from behind Mark. She stared at Nicky and then back at Rob. She said to him in a voice that could curdle cheese, ‘Started already, have you?’

‘AHAHAHAHAHA!’ said Rob, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. ‘SHE’S TALKING ABOUT NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS!’

Nicky frowned at them both.

‘RIGHT!’ he said. ‘WE’RE OFF HOME. YES WE ARE. OH YES SIREE. OFF WE GO. HOMEWARD BOUND.’ Rob was now standing a good foot away from Nicky, yet he still looked guilty as sin. As for her, she was standing against the brick wall with her arms crossed, like a teenager who’d just been given a forbidden love-bite. It was all getting too complicated. She wanted to talk about sandwiches again.

Unable to look either Rob or Amanda in the eye, she stole a glance at Mark. He raised his eyebrows slightly at her. Suddenly, from behind him, Amanda let out a sexy laugh and pointed above his head at the mistletoe. Then she landed a smacker on his lips, pulling him towards her. After
coming up for air she looked over at Rob.

‘Well,’ she said to him huskily. ‘New Year’s Resolution
that
.’

Nicky knew it was rude to stare, but she couldn’t help it.

Rob laughed. ‘Happy New Year, mate,’ he said to Mark.

‘Thanks,’ said Mark quietly. ‘Same to you.’ He looked at Nicky. Her insides flamed. ‘Excuse me,’ he said. He gave them all an uncertain look before disappearing into the kitchen.

‘What the hell’s he doing here?’ whispered Nicky to Rob and Amanda.

Amanda stepped down from the kitchen to stand next to Rob.

‘Gwen invited him at the Nativity Play,’ she replied. ‘He’s staff now. Hey! Maybe we should try and fix you up with him, Nicky.’

‘AHAHAHAHAHAH!’ laughed Rob, pushing Amanda back into the kitchen and following her.

Nicky let them go and stood in the dark for a while. What had all that been about?

She decided to continue her list to cheer herself up, but her mind had gone a complete blank. It was no good. All she could think of was that her local supermarket had started stocking organic chocolate. When she went back in, she found Gwen, her husband and Martha’s boyfriend tidying up the kitchen. She made her goodbyes and Gwen came with her to the front door. There they found Mark talking to a totally inebriated Martha. She was leaning against the wall and it was clear that were the wall not there, she would be lying on the floor.

Mark glanced at Nicky and, when she returned the
glance, he looked away with cool disdain.

‘I’m afraid you missed the best of the party,’ Gwen told Mark apologetically. ‘Most people have to get back for the babysitter just after midnight.’

‘So I see.’ Mark smiled. ‘I always try and see in the New Year with Oscar.’

‘Aaaaaaaaaah,’ sighed Martha, looking up at him dreamily. ‘Isn’t that
lovely
?’ She turned to Gwen. ‘Gwen, isn’t that
lovely
?’

‘Ooh
yes
.’ Gwen winked. ‘There’s nothing lovelier than a devoted dad.’

‘I think that is just
lovely
.’ Martha turned to Nicky. ‘Nicky, don’t you think that is just
lovely
?’

‘I do,’ agreed Nicky. ‘And the
really
lovely thing about it is that he only has to do it once a year.’

‘Aaaaaaah,’ agreed Martha. ‘That is just
lovely
.’

‘W-ell,’ said Mark uneasily, ‘I’m . . . I’m not doing it because I’m nice or anything. I mean it’s totally selfish on my part. I just want to be with him.’

Martha gasped. ‘Oh! Did you hear that? Did you hear that? Oh! That is just
lovely
–’

‘You’ll have to excuse Martha,’ cut in Nicky. ‘She teaches Reception; she’s used to repeating things.’

‘Do you know . . .’ said Martha suddenly in a hushed voice, ‘I saw Amanda and Rob leave together.’

She gave a very slow, very dramatic wink with both eyes.

‘Martha!’ exclaimed Gwen. ‘You
are
behind the times! They’ve been going out with each other since last term. Haven’t they?’ She turned to Nicky. ‘Poor Nicky missed her chance there. Unless the rumours are true and it’s a rebound thing.’ They all stared at her.

‘Ahahahahaha!’ said Nicky, her brain hurting. She had absolutely no idea what to say. ‘Ah well,’ she said, ‘time for me to go.’

‘Oooooh,’ Martha put her finger to her lips, ‘love triangle, eh? Say no more, say no more.’ She smiled. ‘Say. No. More.’

Nicky pretended to yawn. ‘Thanks ever so much, Gwen. It was a lovely evening.’

‘I hardly saw you, my dear,’ replied Gwen. ‘You were in the garden most of the time, weren’t you?’ She winked. ‘In your cosy little love triangle.’

‘No I wasn’t!’ corrected Nicky. ‘I was in the kitchen! I was talking to Ned for hours.’

‘Were you?’ said Gwen, surprised. ‘Where was his lovely wife? Not like Ned to be separated from Theresa. Gosh, Nicky, what effect are you having on all the taken men?’

‘You’re right, Gwen!’ echoed Martha. ‘Not like Ned at all. Were you leading him astray, you wicked girl?’ She giggled. ‘Where was his lovely wife?’ She turned to Mark. ‘She’s
lovely
.’

‘She was with him!’ said Nicky, wondering if she was shouting. ‘She was with him and me! We were all together. Talking about sandwiches. All evening.’

‘Sounds thrilling.’ Mark smiled.

She turned and stared at him. Then she turned to Gwen.

‘Thanks for a lovely evening, Gwen.’ She kissed her on the cheek. ‘You excelled yourself once again. Happy New Year. See you next term. Bye, Martha.’

And she walked out without looking back.

NICKY GREETED THE
brand new year with a big pot of filter coffee and an even bigger slab of organic chocolate. Then she settled down in front of the television for as long as it would take her to stand up again. She was estimating ten hours.

It was half past nine and Claire still hadn’t phoned, and she was certainly not going to phone her. She did not need to be patronised today. Not when she had this much television to watch. And not by someone married to Derek. Nope. She would just sit in big fluffy pyjamas all day, eating crap and watching crap. There was something deliciously decadent about being lazy when you only did it once a year.

Her fury at Claire had subsided somewhat, but only because it had been shoved out of the way by her resentment towards Mark Samuels, anger at Rob, hostility towards Amanda and disappointment with Ally and Pete. As she got comfortable on her sofa, it became apparent that the only way to deal with all these negative emotions was to find out how to make snowflakes out of doyleys.

Just as she was learning, in reverse order, the ten best
places to hang them up for maximum effect, her doorbell rang. Reluctantly, she muted the television. It went again. She padded over to the landing and waited. It rang again. She lay on the floor to see if she recognised the shadow of the feet outside her front door.

‘It’s me,’ shouted Claire through the letter box. ‘Are you going to let me in or do we have to do this through your front door?’

Nicky considered this for a moment before swivelling on the floor, getting up and stomping downstairs to open the door. The sisters stared at each other. Nicky’s first thought was that Claire was beginning to look old. There were dark puffy bags under her eyes.

‘Well?’ said Claire eventually. ‘Are you going to ask me in? What’s with the scissors?’

Nicky opened the door wide, standing back to let Claire in. She followed her into the kitchen, where Claire suddenly turned round and began.

‘I’ve had to leave Derek with the children to come here, you know,’ she said, accusingly.

Nicky blinked. ‘Well, I’ll try not to let you all down,’ she said quietly.

Claire ignored her, waited a moment, then, seemingly too tired and emotional to argue, suddenly seated herself on a bar stool. Nicky put down the scissors, moved the other stool a bit further away, and flicked the kettle on. She would have to live without discovering the top ten places to put her snowflakes. She saw Claire glance at the clock.

‘Well,
you
may have the whole day to watch television in your pyjamas,’ began Claire, ‘but I haven’t. What the hell is going on?’

Nicky balked. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong,’ she said slowly, ‘but I sense, from your tone, that you blame me for what’s going on.’

‘I most certainly do.’

She nodded slowly. ‘Hmm.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that that’s rather intriguing, because I hold you entirely responsible for it.’

Claire’s eyes almost sprang out of her face on sticks like a cartoon.

‘Did
I
walk out of a dinner party?’ she yelled. ‘Did
I
insult a perfectly nice friend of yours? Did
I
hurt your feelings after you’d gone to every effort to make a nice evening –’

‘
NICE?
’ exploded Nicky, and Claire jumped, a little squealy noise escaping from her.

‘You . . . patronising –’ began Nicky.

‘
WHAT
?’ Claire screamed back, a little recovered now. ‘
Patronising?
What the
hell
do you mean by that?’

Nicky paused and tilted her head. ‘It means to talk down to someone,’ she explained softly.

‘How the hell was I patronising?’ roared Claire. ‘I was trying to help!’

Nicky had trouble controlling her voice. ‘Have you any idea how offensive you were the other night?’ she asked. ‘And how crap you made me feel?’

‘Offensive!’ exploded Claire. ‘I made a delicious dinner and invited someone over I thought you’d like. How the hell is that offensive?’

‘Calm down,’ ordered Nicky. She realised this might take some time. She made a pot of tea, put it on the worktop and took out two mugs. ‘Right,’ she began, pouring the tea. ‘Tell
me – honestly – why you didn’t let me know Don was coming.’

‘Because I knew you wouldn’t come.’

Nicky nodded. ‘Exactly! Because you thought
you
knew what was good for me and
I
don’t.’

‘No, because you’re too damn proud.’

‘Of course!’ roared Nicky. ‘It’s always
my
fault. It’s all
my
fault my life isn’t more like yours!’

‘What?’

‘How would you like it if I put myself on a one-woman mission to find you a job because, you poor thing, you haven’t managed to find one by yourself?’

Claire looked at her sister as if she’d finally lost the plot.

‘How would you like it,’ continued Nicky, ‘if every time I saw you, I brought a teaching job application with me and insisted you go for it?’

‘Wha—?’

‘If I insisted that instead of me visiting you at your house, you would have to come to me at school, because I was
far
too busy building my all-important career, and after all, you didn’t have one, so you had loads of spare time to visit me? And then, while you sat there in the corner, watching me teach, I brought in my boss and, with all the subtlety of a bitch on heat, introduced you both and listed your CV in front of you, as if you were unable to talk for yourself?’

Claire was breathing heavily.

‘And then,’ continued Nicky, her voice rising steadily, ‘whenever you tried to tell me to mind my own business, I turned on you and criticised your personality, telling you that it was your fault you didn’t have a job.’

Claire was staring at her.

Nicky paused for a while, before asking, more quietly, ‘What do you think all that would do to your self-esteem? If I constantly chip-chipped away at you – for
years
– implying that your life was crap because it wasn’t like mine, and all you had to do was modify your personality to be more like mine and everything would be OK?’

Claire blinked.

‘And,’ continued Nicky, ‘how do you think you’d end up feeling about me? Your only family in the world who cares whether you’re alive or dead, but who relentlessly reminds you your life’s crap?’

She sat down. Then suddenly she stood up again.

‘And I do not want to meet a man like Derek!’ she cried emphatically. ‘I barely want to meet
Derek
!’

‘All right!’ croaked Claire. ‘Shut up. Just shut up.’

Nicky stopped and stared at her sister. A tear was sliding down her cheek.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, amazed. ‘Why are you crying?’

Claire shook her head, unable to speak. Nicky waited for her to say that she had never known such remorse in her life. If only her sister could find forgiveness in her heart –