The Making of Minty Malone (40 page)

‘Minty!’ Amber exclaimed. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing’s the matter!’ I wept. ‘I’m absolutely
fine.
’

‘You’re not fine,’ said Laurie. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing’s happened,’ I sobbed. ‘And I’m definitely not crying because Joe’s gone to LA and I made a mistake and now I’m going to pay for it just like I paid for my mistake with Dom, that’s not the reason at all.’

‘Ah,’ said Amber. She handed me a Kleenex. ‘You see, Laurie,’ she said, ‘Minty’s liked Joe for ages, but she didn’t realise it because she was still obsessing about Dominic, who’d treated her very badly and then dumped her on her wedding day. So she went on honeymoon with her bridesmaid, Helen,
who has since married my ex-boyfriend Charlie, who was, coincidentally, best man, though not the best man for me. Anyway, in Paris, Minty met Joe. And she liked Joe – who’s creative and nice and interesting but not rich and flash like Dom – but Minty didn’t know how
much
she liked Joe until she understood the awful truth about Dominic, who was despicable in lots of ways that I don’t have time to go into now except to say that Minty had a chance with Joe, which she believes she’s blown, because he told her the ugly truth and she really lost it. So today she phoned him, only to discover he’s on his way to LA, so Minty feels she’s missed the bus with Joe – and she probably has.’

‘Thanks very much!’ I wailed. ‘I feel a whole lot better now!’

‘Well, just ring him tomorrow,’ said Laurie.

‘How?’

‘On his mobile.’

‘But if he couldn’t hear me from Heathrow, I don’t see how he’ll be able to hear me from Los Angeles!’

‘His battery was probably low,’ said Amber. ‘Give him a chance to recharge it and then try him again.’

‘Let him recharge his own batteries too,’ said Laurie. ‘It’s a twelve-hour trip.’

‘And there’s an eight-hour time difference,’ Amber added, ‘so don’t call him too early in the day.’

So at about five the following afternoon I rang Joe’s mobile number. And it rang once, and then clicked straight into answering mode. I left a message, asking him to call. But he didn’t call. He didn’t call back that day, or the next, or the one after that. So I phoned the mobile phone company to ask whether or not Joe’s phone would actually work in the States, and they said, yes, it would. So I left a couple more messages for him, but I didn’t want to leave too many because I didn’t want to sound desperate. Only I
was
feeling pretty desperate, so I called again, and not only did Joe still not answer it, the phone didn’t actually ring at all. It had gone dead. And I really didn’t understand this. And I couldn’t even e-mail him from Amber’s computer because I didn’t have his address. So I
phoned his publishing house and asked to speak to Joe’s editor, Francis Jones. But Francis was at a book fair and didn’t return my call for three days. And when eventually he did, he wasn’t much help.

‘I’m sorry, but I haven’t heard from Joe yet,’ he said, ‘so I don’t have a contact address. He said he was going to stay in a hotel to begin with and then get himself an apartment.’

‘An apartment?’

‘Yes. He’s going to be there for a few months.’

‘A few months!’

‘That’s what he said. He’s got a lot to do.’

‘Go round to his flat,’ said Amber, later. ‘Maybe his neighbours are forwarding his mail.’ And so I walked down to Albert Street. Joe’s wisteria was now in full bloom, with pendant purple flowers like bunches of grapes. I inhaled the scent as I descended the basement steps, and knocked on Joe’s door. But there was no reply. And the two other flats seemed deserted as well.

‘Where do his parents live?’ said Amber when I got back. ‘You could get their number from Directory Enquiries.’

‘They live in Manchester,’ I replied, aware that she was being extremely helpful and, well, rather nice.

‘What’s his father called?’ she enquired.

‘I don’t know, and Bridges is quite a common name.’

‘Why don’t you ask the people on the Nice Factor course if they have a number for Joe?’

‘I already have,’ I replied. ‘But the only numbers they have are the two I’ve already got.’

I rang Helen too, but she didn’t know. So I drew nothing but blanks. Then I hit a busy patch at work and by now it was the third week of April. The daffodils had been superseded by tulips; the lilies of the valley were almost in bloom, and the magnolia trees had already shed their great waxy pink petals. Time was passing. Another season in full swing; there was even a whiff of summer in the air. And I thought maybe he’ll ring, or write. But he didn’t. Because a) he was obviously extremely busy and b) I’d told him I never wanted to see him
again. He was six thousand miles away. And eight time zones. He obviously wasn’t thinking of me, but I was thinking of him. I thought of him sitting in the Californian sunshine. I thought of him walking on the beach. I thought of him going to parties and film premières. I thought of him meeting new people. More significantly, I thought of him meeting new women. And I was filled with regret and dismay.

‘Oh, bugger it!’ I said to Amber as we sat in the Engineer on Friday evening with Laurie. ‘Bugger and buggery bollocks.’

‘Minty!’ said Amber, ‘I’m so flattered. You normally only swear at people you really like.’

‘I’m pissed off,’ I said as I distractedly mangled a beer mat. ‘All my attempts to trace Joe have failed.’

‘Interpol?’ said Amber facetiously. ‘MI5?’

‘I’ve missed the bus,’ I said dismally. ‘I’ve missed the bloody bus.’

‘You’ve missed the bus?’ said Laurie. His beer glass stopped in mid air.

‘Yes. I’ve missed it. I’ve buggered things up. I’m consumed with regret.’

‘Well, why don’t you …you know …’ Laurie began.

‘What?’

‘Catch the bus.’

‘Catch the bus? What do you mean? How can I? It’s gone.’

‘Go to LA,’ he said.

‘Go to LA? Are you
mad
?’

‘No, I’m serious. I mean, you’re not getting very far here.’

‘How can I just get up and go to Los Angeles, Laurie? I’m working.’

‘Oh, well then,’ he said with a shrug, ‘that settles it.’

‘Yes, she’s working,’ said Amber. ‘On the other hand, Minty,’ she added judiciously, ‘you must have masses of leave left.’

‘I do,’ I said. ‘I’ve got four weeks.’

‘Well, go to LA and find Joe,’ said Laurie. ‘It’s not that big.
Everyone knows everyone and you’re a journalist, Minty – I’m sure you could track him down.’

‘How? What would I do? Just wander around asking people to point me in the direction of Joe Bridges? It’s impossible.’

‘Well then, don’t go,’ said Laurie. ‘There’s no need, because, at the end of the day, Joe can’t be that important to you. Otherwise you would.’

‘Joe
is
important to me. He’s
very
important. But there are practical considerations to …consider.’

‘If I’d worried too much about practical considerations I’d still be a frustrated surveyor,’ said Laurie. ‘Instead of which I’m about to become a vet. If I qualify. On which note, I really must get back to my revision. Canine Endocrinology. It’s my pet hate – ha ha. Anyway, that’s my diagnosis today.’

‘Thanks,’ I said miserably.

‘Take a risk, Minty,’ said Laurie, as he stood up to go. ‘I mean it – life’s too short.’

‘Go to LA? How
ridiculous
!’ I said to Amber as we walked back to the flat in the late evening sun.

‘Well, why don’t you?’ she said. ‘Just tell Sophie you want some time off.’

‘I’d have to ask Jack,’ I said.

‘Do you
want
to go?’ she asked.

Did I want to go? Good question.

‘Yes,’ I said carefully, ‘ …if I thought I’d find him and if I thought I could put things right. But I’m not going to go,’ I said, ‘because, to be honest, I really can’t afford it.’

‘Can’t you?’

‘Well, no. It would cost a bomb, and I don’t have much put by.’

‘I’ll pay,’ said Amber, suddenly.

‘What?’ She opened the front door, and I stepped inside.

‘I’ll pay,’ she repeated. ‘I’ve lived here for ten months, and I haven’t given you any rent. And you’ve never said a word about it. Let me pay, Mint. It’s the least I can do.’

‘
Would
you?’ I said, wonderingly.

‘Yes,’ she beamed. ‘But only on one condition.’

‘What’s that?’

‘That I get to come along too!’

And so the decision was made. But I’d have to clear it with Jack, and as soon as possible, so I called him at home the next morning, but one of the girls picked up the phone.

‘Oh, hello,’ I said. ‘This is Minty Malone. Er …is that …?’

‘Iolanthe.’

‘Oh, Iolanthe, hi. I remember. The, er …’

‘Party,’ she said.

‘Yes, that’s right. The party.’

‘Everything’s fixed now,’ she said.

‘Oh good …And, er, how are you all?’

‘Pregnant,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Pregnant,’ she repeated. My
God.
But judging by the way those girls carried on in January it wasn’t entirely surprising.

‘Well …’ I didn’t know what to say’ …that’s pretty serious news.’

‘It’s OK, actually,’ she said quietly.

‘What do your folks think?’

‘They don’t mind. It was a bit of a shock, obviously. But they’re cool.’

‘Oh. Well …good,’ I said. I didn’t know what else to say.

‘Anyway, do you want to speak to Jack?’ she enquired.

‘Yes. Yes I do. Please. Thanks.’

‘Hang on, I’ll just get him – he’s mending my bike.’

‘Jack, hi,’ I said. And then I blurted out, ‘Iolanthe’s just told me the news.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit shattering.’

‘What are you going to do?’ I asked, though I know I shouldn’t have done.

‘Have it, of course.’

‘God. But what about her …age.’

‘Look, this kind of thing happens,’ he said. ‘She won’t be the first, and I’m sure we’ll cope somehow, though we’ll need a bigger house. But I think we can deal with it all.’

‘Good. Anyway, sorry, it’s none of my damn business. Can I have some urgent leave?’

‘What?’

‘I need to take some leave.’

‘When?’

‘Next week.’

‘That’s very short notice, Minty.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m ringing you at home. I’m sorry to spring it on you, but I need to go to LA.’

‘Is it vital?’

‘Yes, I think it is.’

‘Can I ask
why
you’re going?’

‘Well, it’s sort of personal.’ I didn’t want to tell anyone. I wanted to keep it to myself. ‘Please, can I go, Jack?’

‘OK,’ he said after a few seconds. ‘But you’ll have to be back by the seventh because we’ve got such a lot on in May.’

‘I know.’

‘So I’m afraid I can only spare you for five days.’

‘Five days?’ I sighed. It was so short.

‘I’m sorry, but it’s five days or nothing, Minty. Do you want to take it?’

Five days? Oh my God.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I do.’

‘You see, Mum, we’d need you to come in twice a day at least to look after the animals,’ I said the following evening. ‘It’s only for a long weekend. Five days. That’s all I can take.’

‘Five days? Los Angeles is an awfully long way to go for five days, Minty,’ she said.

‘I know, but that’s the maximum I can have, because of the short notice.’

‘Minty, why are you going to Los Angeles for five days?’

‘To meet someone.’

‘Who?’

‘A man.’

‘But there must be lots of nice men you can meet in London.’

‘No, this is one I’ve already met. He’s called Joe. But he ran off.’

‘Not
another
one,’ said Mum.

‘Well, he was due to go anyway, but because we’d had an argument and I was horrible to him, he didn’t tell me a) when he was going and b) where he was staying. But he’s terribly nice and Laurie –’

‘Who’s Laurie?’

‘Oh, Laurie’s a vet and part-time male escort who’s keen on Amber.’

‘Oh, darling, I can’t keep up with all these changes in your life.’

‘Yes but, Mum, you never ask, that’s why. Anyway, Joe’s gone to the States, quite possibly for months, and I just wanted to …’ What? What did I want to do? ‘ …I just wanted to try and put it right,’ I said. And when I said that, a lump came to my throat, and I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. ‘Oh, Mummy, he’s the nicest man I’ve ever met.’

‘Darling, you said that about Dominic to begin with.’

‘Yes, yes, I know I did. But it was a lie. I was kidding myself. Mum, I’m so glad I didn’t marry Dominic.’

‘Well, so am I, darling. I always thought he was a rotter, and he’d have been the most
useless
spouse!’

‘And Joe’s just …lovely,’ I said. ‘He’s
real.
And I’ve made such a mess of it with him. That’s why I need to go to the States. So will you look after the animals? There’s loads of cat food – Perdita’s pregnant, by the way.’

‘Oh, heavens!’

‘But they’re not due until mid May so you don’t have to worry. And we’ll put a litter-tray down for her and we’ll leave out a comprehensive selection of CDs for Pedro.’

‘Minty, if I’m going to do this, I’d rather stay in the flat, if you don’t mind. It’ll be much easier than all the to-ing and fro-ing,’ she went on. ‘And, to be frank, cat litter is
so
disgusting. I just don’t think I could face it, so I’d rather be there to let her out.’

‘Of course you can stay here, Mum. That’s fine. If Dad doesn’t mind.’

‘I don’t think he’ll even notice,’ Mum replied. ‘We hardly ever see each other these days.’

‘Well, whose fault’s
that
?’

‘But I have so many commitments, darling. Do you know we raised £14,000 for the Blue Cross last night.’

‘That’s great, Mum, but you have a commitment to Dad too.’

‘These charities are depending on me, you know.’

‘
Are
they, Mum?’ I said, wearily.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘In any case your father seems so distracted these days.’

‘Does he?’

‘We rarely get to talk to one another.’

‘Still, you went to the ballet together not long ago, didn’t you?’ I said. ‘That must have been nice.’

There was an odd silence. It lasted for about three or four seconds. And then Mum said, ‘Did you say ballet?’