down in front of the TV. Sod the diet and pray that this season will favour the smock, I thought as I chowed down. By the time I couldn’t force another thing into my mouth, I’d eaten more than half of the cheesecake and drunk the entire bottle of wine. It wasn’t going to feel good in the morning, but the sugar-wine coma I was slipping into felt great at that moment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I was expecting to be woken by an overwhelming desire to vomit, but instead, it was a loud slam of the door on Saturday morning. I pushed myself up, peering over the back of the settee and praying it wasn’t burglars. Or murderers. Maybe burglars wouldn’t be so bad actually, I thought, cautiously peeping. It was neither. Instead of huge threatening men dressed in black, I saw a tiny, harassed-looking Jenny, dressed in her underwear and a man’s T-shirt. It was an interesting look for her, and one, and this was just a hunch, that was not attached to a happy story.
‘Jenny?’ I started cautiously. ‘You OK?’
‘We broke up,’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief. Her eyes were fixed on something in the middle distance only she could see. ‘He dumped me. Again.’
‘What?’ I tried to stretch and move over as she stumbled around the room and collapsed onto the settee. If her fashion forward ensemble wasn’t weird enough, she absolutely reeked of booze. ‘You and Jeff broke up?’
‘He said he loves me but he can’t be with me.’ She screwed her face up, still staring straight ahead. ‘He said every time I leave he’s worried I might cheat again, and he doesn’t think he can live like that.’
‘But he loves you,’ I said, pulling her in for a hug, ‘and you love him.’
‘He says it’s not enough.’ Her voice was getting quieter and quieter. ‘He says he doesn’t trust me.’
‘God, Jenny, I’m sorry,’ I said, pulling her feet up underneath her. She was just like a ragdoll.
‘I thought he was going to ask me to move back in with him.’ She tried a smile. ‘I was so worried about how I was going to tell you I was moving out. But he doesn’t even want to see me, let alone live with me.’
‘But he loves you, it’s obvious to anyone,’ I said, trying to break through to her. I was getting scared by the glassy stare. ‘Maybe he just needs time to realize it.’
Jenny shook her head. ‘He’s had the time. He’s had all the fucking time in the world. I’m the one who’s been sitting here for the last year, my entire life on hold waiting for him to realize how much he needs me.’ A deep, loud sob escaped. ‘I can’t do it any more. I love him so much.’
‘Did you tell him that?’ I asked, relaxing my grip as she began to shake.
‘What do you think?’ she asked, covering her face with her hands. ‘He doesn’t fucking care. It’s all shit! He loves me too much? Fuck, he doesn’t even know what love is. If he did, he wouldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.’
‘I’m starting to think most blokes don’t get it at all,’ I sighed in agreement.
Jenny stared at me. Apparently not the right thing to say.
‘Are you serious?’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t sit here and listen to you cry about who you like, who you love, why your ex didn’t love you, again. It’s not all about you sometimes.’
‘That’s not what I was going to say,’ I tried to defend myself, to remember that she didn’t mean it when she got like this. ‘I was just going to say, even when you think they’re good guys, sometimes they’re not. Maybe that’s Jeff too. You’re too good for this Jenny.’
‘Fuck!’ she shouted. ‘There you go! It’s just not true, Angela. We go around talking all this shit about how men are all assholes and we’re poor little women, used and abused, but it’s just not true. Jeff doesn’t love me because I cheated on him. Your ex doesn’t love you because, fuck, I don’t even know, how could he? How can he love someone who doesn’t even like herself?’
‘This wasn’t about Mark,’ I said, standing up to leave. I had to get out of there before I said something I regretted. Before I couldn’t forgive her. ‘I was talking about Tyler actually. He turned out not to be such a nice guy after all.’
‘Who gives a fuck? You were only screwing him because he reminded you of your ex. Oh and yeah, he was really fucking rich,’ she carried on. I turned to watch her empty the remains of my wine into a mug and down it. ‘At least now you can get on with your little “I’m with the band” fantasy.’
‘I’m just not going to listen to this,’ I said, grabbing my bag from by the door. ‘I don’t have to. I don’t know how you dare put yourself across as this great person who really cares, who really wants to help people, when you can’t even help yourself.’
‘Why don’t you just run back home?’ Jenny waved me away. ‘And leave me and Alex and everyone else to our real lives. It’s been fun, but maybe, just maybe, when you get home, you’ll stop trying to be something you’re not. Had you thought about that, Angela? Maybe the reason you couldn’t work out who you wanted to be is because you’re already her. This dumbass indecisive fuck-up of a person is who you are. It’s who we all are, and the sooner you realize that, the better. I’m sick of holding your hand and waiting for you to work it out for yourself.’
I walked out and slammed the door for the second time. Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed my phone and dialled.
‘Hello?’
‘Louisa?’
‘Angela?’
I was confused. I’d dialled my mum’s house, not Louisa’s.
‘Where’s my mum?’ I asked. I wasn’t sure I could cope with this.
‘She’s making tea, I just brought the wedding photos around on the way to tennis. I got them yesterday,’ Louisa said.
Just hearing her voice brought it all back. Not the wedding or Mark’s cheating, but my actual life. My twenty-seven years of life. She was having tea with my mum on a Saturday morning, looking at the wedding photos, at me in the wedding photos, as though none of the last three weeks had happened. And I guessed to them, most of it hadn’t.
‘Where are you, Angela?’ Louisa asked. She wasn’t shouting and she didn’t sound angry. ‘Your mum said you’re still in America.’
‘I’m in New York,’ I sat down on the bottom step of the staircase, ‘I’ve been here since …’
‘Gosh, doesn’t it seem like a long time ago,’ Louisa sighed. ‘I wish the honeymoon could have lasted longer …’
‘Louisa,’ I said slowly, ‘aren’t you pissed off with me?’
‘Pissed off with you?’ she asked, sounding shocked. ‘Aren’t you pissed off with me?’
I bit my lip and stared at the doorway, my eyes welling up fast. ‘But I ruined your wedding,’ I gasped, trying not to let the tears go all at once. ‘I am so sorry.’
‘Oh, Angela,’ Louisa sobbed, tears catching in her voice across the line. ‘Is that really what you’ve been thinking for three weeks? I thought you’d be angry with me. I’m the one in the wrong, I should have told you about Mark and that slag Katie as soon as I found out.’
‘Mum said he’s moved in with her,’ I whispered, pulling my knees up. ‘Have you seen him?’
‘I’ve seen them at the tennis club,’ Louisa said reluctantly. ‘But he knows what me and Tim think of him, we’re not exactly sharing a post-match drink. Oh, Angela, please don’t tell me you’ve been out there all on your own thinking I don’t care?’
‘I haven’t been on my own,’ I managed.