Dany Atkins - Fractured

I gave her my warmest smile and then nodded my head towards the balloons.

‘Classy.’

‘I thought so.’

‘Well this is a really nice place,’ pronounced Dave, pulling out a chair for Sarah before settling himself closely beside her, ‘Very posh.’

‘Uh huh,’ she confirmed, and then stage-whispered across to me ‘Better get on the phone and cancel that ‘ entertainment’ , Rache.’

By this time, Trevor had been approached by the wine waiter and while a discussion ensued over what to order, Sarah took the opportunity to lean over and whisper in my ear.

‘How are you doing, hon? Really .’

‘Hanging in there,’ I whispered back, and when I saw the concern cloud her brow, I knew I had to try harder. ‘I’m fine, stop worrying about me.’ She gave my hand a quick squeeze and leant back in her chair.

The first awkward moment occurred shortly after our chosen drinks were delivered to our table.

‘So who are we missing then?’ asked Trevor blithely and an uncomfortable silence ricocheted between us as the double-meaning of his innocent remark hit home.

‘Matt and Cathy said they might be a little late.’ Sarah quickly supplied and Dave, who really was in tune with his future wife, immediately forestalled any awkward moment by embarking on a long and improbable story about his recent experience with a parking attendant.

We were all still laughing when I noticed a few diners at other tables glancing up in appreciation towards the entrance to the restaurant. Without looking up, I knew they had arrived. Individually they had both always had the ability to turn heads, I knew that only too well from my own time spent by Matt’s side. Together they were phenomenal. Magazine photo perfect. Movie star beautiful. The combination was almost breathtaking and as they made their way towards us I noted that they both looked, if anything, even more stunning than they had five years earlier. I’d never felt so plain in my entire life. And empty. Because I knew that in another life, with another turn of the dice, there would have been someone sitting at this table to reassure me that was simply not so.

Cathy had dressed to stun, that much was obvious. The figure-hugging black halter-neck dress did exactly what it was supposed to do; the neckline and thigh-high split simultaneously allowing tantalising glimpses of both cleavage and long tanned legs. Her hair was blonder than I remembered and fluffed to perfection about her face. But it was Matt who drew my eye; who had always drawn my eye, I admitted honestly. Like Phil, he too looked taller and broader than my remembered image. His dark suit and crisp white shirt looked expensive and from their immaculate fit I guessed they hadn’t been bought off the peg. His face was leaner, more chiselled than it had been, although his eyes, as they met mine and smiled in greeting, were still the same. I tried to smile convincingly back, thinking suddenly that this was just like earlier today when I had stood before my old house; that strange feeling that here was something that was mine, but yet clearly wasn’t mine all in the same moment.

There was the usual round of greetings and I was glad of the flurry of hugs, handshakes and hellos, for it meant that by the time Matt leant down to kiss me lightly on the cheek, I had pretty much suppressed my purely hormonal reaction at seeing him again. Cathy too leant over to kiss me hello, and I saw something unreadable flicker behind her eyes as she took in my scarred face. Not that the scar itself should be a shock to any one of them. They had all visited me in hospital many times in the immediate aftermath of the accident. Until I had driven them all away, that was.

The evening was a success and a failure both at the same time. On the surface we all appeared to be playing our roles just fine. There was the happy couple-to-be, surrounded by their old friends, gathered together from far and wide to wish them well. But it felt like we were all second-rate actors in a rather unoriginal play. We all said the right things, raised our glasses for toasts at the appropriate moments, but somehow the effort of not saying something about the last time we had all sat together around a dining table together was so immense that it suffocated any real pleasure out of the evening. I wondered how it felt to Kate and Dave and if they were aware of that too.

I had assumed, wrongly, that most of the old group had still met up during their university breaks, so it was surprising to learn that although they had seen each other in ones and twos, not once had there been an event where everyone had been together in one place. I hadn’t known that the loss of Jimmy and my own disappearance had so effectively caused the glue between us to dissolve.

At least there were no awkward gaps in the conversation to contend with. There was enough ground to cover in bringing everyone up to date with their lives, that silence wasn’t the problem. We learnt that Matt had been working in his family’s business since finishing uni and Cathy was something in PR – she did explain it, but to be honest I wasn’t listening properly. I was far more fascinated with her body language than the words she was actually saying. From the moment she had sat down at the table, her every action seemed to screech out her possession of Matt. She was all but entwined around him as we waited to be served. In fact, given that most of her limbs seemed to be twisted in some way around his, I couldn’t help wondering if she’d have an arm free to eat at all. And the weird thing was, I knew this show of display was all for me. But why? It had been years since Matt and I had broken up. Broken apart, in fact would be a better way to describe it. And after several excruciatingly painful and abortive attempts, he had finally stopped trying get in touch in the hope that I was going to change my mind. I’d made it perfectly clear that I didn’t want him in my life. And it was as true today as it had been back then, so what was with Cathy’s astonishing behaviour?

As our last course was cleared discreetly away, the wine waiter appeared at my elbow to refill my glass. I quickly covered its surface with my hand.

‘No, no more for me thank you.’

‘You’re not driving are you?’ queried Trevor, who clearly had no intention of abstaining from any proffered alcoholic beverage.

‘No, I came by taxi,’ I replied. I’d been wondering when someone was going to notice that I’d had no more than a couple of sips of wine all night. ‘I just think I’m going to need a clear head to cope with Sarah tomorrow. If not, she’ll drive me totally crazy.’

Sarah pretended to look offended and everyone laughed. They all seemed to accept the lie. In truth, I was worried to drink any alcohol at all after the amount of painkillers I’d taken that day. And then, as if by thinking of it, I’d woken a sleeping dragon, my headache flared up again in a sudden blazing torch of agony. I got to my feet, hoping nobody had noticed that I’d needed to rest my hands on the table to steady myself.

‘If you’ll excuse me a moment,’ I said to no-one in particular and using every effort in my power I walked, in what I hoped was a straight line, towards the Ladies.

Once safely in the rather opulent cloakroom, I let out a long shaky sigh of relief and lowered myself gently onto a small velvet-covered bench. The pain was still searingly strong behind my eyes; so intense that my vision was begin to blur at the edges. It had only been this severe and intense a couple of times before, and I’d had much more warning on those occasions. Never before had the pain just erupted as it had done just now. I didn’t doubt for a minute that the tension I’d been under all day had probably not helped the situation.