You're the One That I Want (25 page)

Pearl was waiting for me on the sofa when I returned home that night, with a cup of tea and some much-needed chocolate Hobnobs. They made up a large part of her staple diet at university – I’ve no idea how she managed to maintain her size-ten figure with the number of packets she went through.

‘How was it?’ she asked, taking a biscuit out of the packet and dunking it in her tea. She pulled a grimace as she waited for my reply, rightly assuming that I wouldn’t have had the best time of my life.

‘Awful.’

‘Crap.’

‘I was a right bitch.’

‘Oh dear. Still confused?’

‘Actually, no,’ I said with a smile, taking a gulp of my tea and reaching for the packet. ‘I think I’m on the verge of having a mental clear-out. I should be fine soon …’

‘Glad to hear it,’ she smiled back. ‘I’ve been thinking while you’ve been gone. I understand, honestly I do. You three have been inseparable for years and now this guy you’ve loved as a friend speaks up and turns it into something else. He gave you another option when things had gone a bit shit. But face it, he led you to a fucking big crossroads and then walked off with the map.’

‘Ha! Great analogy.’

Pearl winked at me, but continued with her line of thought.

‘What you need to realize is that you don’t need that map. You just have to decide which road you want to take …’

‘What’s this? Is my cockney east-Londoner going all sentimental on me?’ I joked, giving her a playful shove on the shoulder.

‘No chance …’ she laughed. ‘All I’m saying is choose your love story and stick to it.’

Choose my love story and stick to it … I liked that. I liked that a lot.

By the time my twenty-fourth birthday arrived I was living in a flat share in Bethnal Green with Alice, and had been for over a year. We’d found the place on Gumtree – a room in a two-bed flat, on the fourth floor. It was tiny and meant we’d had to leave the majority of our belongings in my mum’s garage, but it would do. It was cheap and central. We shared the place with an IT consultant called Kevin, who seemed to be out drinking most nights, so we usually had the whole flat to ourselves.

Before that, straight after university, I’d gone back to my mum’s in Peaswood. Robert wanted us all to get a place together, but, for obvious reasons, I wasn’t keen on the idea. I excused myself, explaining that I needed to find a job and save before I could even think about renting a place. He sulked for a bit but decided not to put any more pressure on me, thankfully.

It was strange being back in my old room, squeezed in with all my old toys and memories, and having my mum fussing over me again – but luckily Alice had moved in with her sister near Brick Lane, so I was there a lot, escaping the motherly furore – she was excited and it came from the right place, it was just overbearing after years of total freedom.

Being a newbie freelance Graphic Designer was tough. I had no contacts, no experience, just my portfolio filled with coursework. In fact, I guess the good thing about living at home with Mum was that I could get some internships and work for free, building up relationships as I went, hoping that it would build into something more. It did. I eventually fell in with a film production company, who employed me each time they were in production. Just that tiny chance opened up the doors to other great opportunities, and I was truly thankful. So, after a further two years at home, I was finally earning a regular-enough income to move out of home. I was thrilled – so was Alice when I asked her if she fancied living together. She was so unassuming and never tried to force me into thinking about the future and where we were headed – I liked that about her.

Robert and Maddy had moved home for the summer, as I had, but then quickly moved back out again. Robert had landed on his feet straight away and bagged himself a job as a PE teacher at a posh all-boys school in West London. As he was awarded a regular salary with twelve weeks
paid
holiday a year, they could afford to rent a pretty flat in Chiswick – a beautiful corner of the capital for yummy mummies and creative types. The picture-perfect couple fitted in nicely.

Maddy struggled to get paid work for her photography straight away, so, after years of studying decided to work in a local art shop instead – the plan was that she’d do that until something else popped up, but even after she started up her small, yet successful, business taking family portraits, she agreed to stay on there a few days a week. I
think she liked the stability of knowing when she was going to have money coming in, plus they were lenient about her switching her days off if a shoot came up.

She still took her camera everywhere she went – eager to catch life at its best.

We all saw each other every Sunday, without fail, taking it in turns to travel across London to do so. They were still my bestest buds, although, by that point, Alice had been added to the mix, making us a neat little foursome.

Maddy had been right, things had got better over time. Not seeing her every day had certainly helped, although I’m gutted to admit that she never strayed far from my thoughts. The distance made me miss them both, but mostly her, and excited to see them each weekend as a result. The love I’d felt never faded, even though I was happy that a new love had blossomed with Alice – the sweetest girl I’d ever known.

I still visited my mum in Peaswood all the time. Yes, she did irritate me when I’d moved back home, but as soon as I moved out again I missed her terribly. My dad leaving when I was so young was an awful thing to deal with, but, by that point, I’d spent the majority of my life with it being just the two of us. I was used to it. I never forgot that, in many ways, I was her life. So despite me living elsewhere, I made sure I gave her as much time as I could so that she was never by herself for too long. Not that she minded being alone – she’d not had a man in her life since my dad left all those years ago, but I’d never heard her moan, making me wish I’d inherited some of her thick skin.

She spent most of her evenings either with, or on the phone to, Carol. Our mums were still as inseparable as they’d been all those years before when we were younger. It was great to know Mum had people around her when I wasn’t there.

One Wednesday night, just after Christmas, I’d gone over to hers for dinner. Alice was covering an event for the magazine she worked for so I was on my own. I knew something was up as soon as I walked through the door. She couldn’t stop smiling, as though she knew something but wasn’t allowed to say. I said nothing, just waited, knowing she’d tell me whatever it was if she wanted to – thinking it was probably something village-gossip-related that I wouldn’t be too interested in anyway.

We sat down to dinner (I was stuffing my face with her delicious homemade steak pie), when she finally cracked.

‘Okay, okay, okay,’ she said excitedly, waving her arms in the air, her grin getting bigger with each second that passed. ‘I’m not meant to say anything, but then, you probably know already so there’s no point us both pretending we don’t know when we do.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked – I couldn’t help but smile back, she was totally giddy over the news she’d been told, and I rarely saw her like that – like a naughty teenager, unable to keep a secret.

‘Oh, give over,’ she said, tapping my arm across the table, as though I was playing with her. ‘You clearly know. I can see it on your face.’

‘I don’t, Mum. Honestly.’

‘Why are you smiling like that, then?’

‘Because I’ve never seen you act like this before, that’s why.’

‘Oh …’ she said, suddenly unsure whether she should carry on or not. ‘Well, perhaps I should keep it a secret, then. You don’t want to hear it from me. Forget I said anything.’

‘Mum! Go on, you can’t leave it there.’

‘Ah, it’s just too exciting to keep from you, and there’s no one else I can tell,’ she practically screamed, bursting with happiness. ‘Robert’s gone and asked for permission.’

‘What sort of permission?’

‘Don’t be daft. To ask Maddy to marry him. He went over to see Kathryn and Greg yesterday – Carol told me this morning. They’re all so excited.’

I should have guessed it would happen one day. They’d been together since they were sixteen and had lived with each other for three years – it was the next step, we weren’t kids any longer. The feelings it conjured shocked me – I was happy for them, but, mostly, I was sad. Sad that, if there was ever any doubt about the matter, Maddy and I would never have a chance of being together. It was a selfish thought, but it arose in me nonetheless, causing me to be annoyed at my heart for betraying me after all those years.

‘Didn’t he say anything to you?’

‘No,’ I said, managing to smile at my mother’s beaming face.

‘I expect he wanted it to be a surprise for you too. Oh, it’ll be a lovely day for all of you really, not just them two.’

‘Do you know when he’s going to do it?’

‘No idea, love. Next few weeks or months, though, I’d have thought. I don’t think he has a ring yet.’

‘Wow.’

‘I know. Exciting, huh? Better get looking for a hat!’ she beamed, unable to hide her excitement. ‘Ooh, and, well, I know Rob’s got two brothers, but I’m sure you’ll be best man. You’ll have to do a speech and everything. We can go through the loft and dig out some old photos. I think we’ve even got some from when I first met Carol. Yes, some great ones of you two eating ice cream in your prams, it’s all over your faces.’

I played along with her joy, trying to ignore the panic stirring within me at the thought of losing Maddy, the girl I’d tried so hard not to love.

That Saturday night Alice and I were on our sofa watching
The Jonathan Ross Show
, tucking into an Indian takeaway – something we treated ourselves to more than we ought to. It was a bad habit that had lingered with us since our university days.

‘Do you ever think about the future?’ I asked, topping up our glasses of wine, of which we’d had quite a few – another bad habit that had carried over from student life.

‘In what way?’ she asked, mopping up some pilau rice that had escaped from her plate and fallen onto her lap.

‘I dunno, what you think it’ll be like?’

‘Well, when I was six we were asked to draw a picture of what we thought the millennium would look like – I drew some elaborate flying car and a robotic dog. My teacher said I was unrealistic but imaginative … I guess I’m still waiting for my flying car to be invented,’ she shrugged with a giggle.

‘Not like that. I mean, where do you see yourself in five or ten years’ time?’

‘Oh,’ she tutted, tapping her fork against the side of her plate as she thought of her answer. ‘Editor of my own glossy magazine, with my own office overlooking the river – a vast upgrade from the shambolic mess I currently work in …’

‘Nice,’ I encouraged, watching her forehead crease as she contemplated her future.

‘Living in a massive house with a swimming pool and a pink Ferrari on the swooping driveway.’

‘Pink? Not red?’

‘This is my vision, not yours. Am I being unrealistic again? Was my teacher right?’

‘Not at all,’ I laughed. ‘You can have your pink Ferrari.’

‘Good. I’ll also be married to some charming man, whoever he may be,’ she chuckled. ‘And mum to a few delightful sprogs.’

‘Sounds wonderful.’

‘Doesn’t it?’ she laughed. ‘You?’

‘Same,’ I nodded

‘Editor of a magazine?’

‘Obviously not, but the rest of it works.’

‘Marriage and kids? Most guys our age would run a mile at the very thought of it,’ she said, taken aback by the revelation as she raised her eyebrows.

‘Not me.’

As we sat there smiling at each other, over our chicken tikka masalas, the next words spurted from my mouth before I’d even had a chance to think them through properly.

‘Will you marry me?’

It wasn’t just me they’d surprised – Alice’s wide-eyed look told me that I’d completely caught her off guard too. Just like me, she hadn’t been expecting it.

We sat in silence, looking at each other with our mouths open in shock.

‘What did you say?’ she asked, her voice wavering with emotion.

‘I think I just asked you to marry me,’ I laughed nervously.

‘Did you mean it? There’s still time to take it back, if not.’

‘Do you want me to take it back?’

‘Not at all …’

We laughed then, broke down in giggles over the grown-up thing we were committing to.

‘So, will you? Will you be my wife?’

‘Of course I will. Yes!’ she beamed.

It was the most unromantic proposal in the world. Unplanned, unnecessary and done purely because I’d been scared of my own feelings. Petrified that I wasn’t over Maddy and aware of just how much it was going to hurt watching her walk down the aisle towards someone else. I was in need of having my own future secured to give myself a little piece of armour, so that I’d be okay when that day finally came. It was the most selfish thing I’d ever done.