Jane Green - Bookends

‘You liar,’ I laugh, because my hair is back to the wild woman of Borneo, and I’m in my usual old black gear today, saving my pink sweater and grey trousers for the date.

‘No, seriously,’ she laughs. ‘I mean, you looked completely fab the other night, at Josh and Lucy’s, but you didn’t really look like you.’ My face falls. ‘No, no,’ she says quickly, ‘don’t be offended, but sitting here now, with your curly hair and no make-up, this is the Cath that we all know and love.’

‘So what do you think I should do for my date with James?’

‘Be yourself. Make-up and hairdressers are lovely for special occasions, but this is you, this is the Cath that he first fell for, so why change anything?’

I start to laugh. ‘Portia! That’s all well and good, but look at you, for Christ’s sake! You’re immaculate!’

‘But that’s different.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘Didn’t I ever tell you that my mother says I emerged into the world wearing high heels and lipstick? The nurses at St Mary’s couldn’t, apparently, get over it.’

I laugh with her, but she can see there’s something in my eyes and that all is not completely well, and to be honest, as excited and nervous as I am, I still can’t get over the feeling that I’m standing on the edge of the precipice and I’m really not entirely sure I’m ready to jump.

‘What’s the matter?’

I sigh for a bit, then try to explain the way I feel. How I’ve managed to protect myself by surrounding myself with people I know and trust and love, and that anything outside of that group feels very dangerous, and very frightening, feelings I’m not used to.

‘I do understand,’ she says, smiling, when I’ve finished my halting explanation. ‘Better than you might think. I know what it’s like to want something very badly but to be too frightened of going after it because it feels dangerous. But Cath, I don’t need to tell you of all the good things you could be missing out on by not going through with this. I’m sure Lucy’s already told you.’

I smile, because of course Portia’s right.

‘But you know, if this helps at all, I’ve always thought that the one thing I would regret more than anything else in life is to reach the ripe old age of, say, eighty, look back on my life and think, “What if?” What if I’d done something differently, what if I’d followed my heart? What if I hadn’t ended this love affair, or that love affair?

‘And you know, even at thirty-one, I have regrets. There are things I wish I’d done in my twenties, things I wish I’d said to people, and things’ – her eyes become increasingly wistful – ‘I wish I hadn’t said, hadn’t done.’

‘It’s not too late, though? You’re only thirty-one, Portia,’ I laugh, trying to lighten things, aware that what she has just said is an almost exact echo of what James has already said to me.

‘I don’t know,’ she sighs, then pushes a smile on to her face. ‘I can’t turn the clock back, but hopefully I can right some wrongs, and who knows, maybe even give myself some happier endings…’

There’s a silence for a while, and eventually I pluck up enough courage to say tentatively, ‘Portia, when you talk about righting wrongs, we’ve never talked about those days.’

‘Those days?’

‘When we were all at university, and then, after that night, with Josh, how we all lost touch.’

She laughs. ‘Oh that. That was nothing. I was just a silly little girl demanding some attention, and there’s nothing to talk about.’

Relief seeps through me. ‘Do you know, I’ve thought about that for years, I always felt guilty that we all drifted apart after that.’

‘Cath, it was a long time ago and I can barely remember it. Really, it’s not necessary to apologize. It’s over. Forgotten.’

‘But then we met that guy who knew you…’ I trail off, aware that I’m getting nowhere, that Portia has always had an extraordinary ability to shut down when a subject is becoming uncomfortable, and this is what she’s doing now.

She smiles and shrugs, and I know from days of old that it’s the end of the subject: she won’t talk about it any more, but God, I’d love to know what she meant about giving herself some happier endings, and right what wrongs? The only person she wronged back then was Matt, and he isn’t around any more, at least not in our lives.

‘How’s the bookshop going?’ Portia asks, expert in changing the subject.

‘Fantastic. Truly unbelievable. I’m loving every minute of it, but poor Lucy’s working like a demon in the café bit and she’s absolutely exhausted. And then, to make matters worse, she got home the other night to find that evil little Max had drawn a picture of the family at nursery or somewhere, and instead of drawing Lucy he’d drawn Ingrid.’

Portia starts to laugh. ‘Oh God, sorry,’ she says, seeing that I’m not laughing. ‘I mean, that must be awful for her, particularly because Ingrid’s so gorgeous. I can never understand these women. Aren’t they just asking for trouble by employing some stunning Swedish blonde as an au pair girl? Particularly when they’re out working late every night.

‘I just always think that the easiest thing in the world would be to turn to the au pair for a bit of comfort during those lonely evenings. Especially when she looks like Ingrid.’

‘Well, no possibility of that,’ I say. ‘First of all, Ingrid’s the prize bitch from hell.’ Portia arches an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Oh, come on, you saw her the other night, she’s a nightmare, and as far as I can see her only saving grace is that Max loves her. Anyway, despite what you may think, Josh adores Lucy.’

‘Does he?’ Portia looks interested.

Now at this point it occurs to me to have a little gossip about Josh and Lucy passing like ships in the night, but, however tempting it might be, it really wouldn’t be fair to Lucy, so I mentally zip the lip and decide that no matter what Portia says I will not be drawn.

‘God, yes! Josh can’t keep his hands off her. Really, it’s quite ridiculous, I mean after all these years together you’d think some of the passion would die, but if anything it’s the reverse.’

I’m not entirely sure what makes me go so over the top, but something in my gut tells me it’s the right thing to be doing, so I go with it and add just a little more to be on the safe side.

‘They didn’t strike me as being particularly affectionate to one another,’ Portia says, after considering what I’ve just said. ‘They obviously have a good working relationship, but it struck me that perhaps the passion had gone. Oh well, I must have been wrong.’

‘God, definitely. In fact Lucy was saying the other night that she’s completely exhausted because she’s working like a dog and then as soon as she gets home Josh wants to jump her.’ I wasn’t planning this last bit, but too late, it’s already out there.

Portia looks surprised, and then she smiles. ‘I like Lucy, you know. She’s not at all what I expected, as you know, but I’ve surprised myself by how much I like her.’

‘ Everyone adores Lucy, she’s wonderful.’

‘Hmm,’ Portia says, and sits back as our rocket and Parmesan salads arrive. ‘She’s certainly a wonderful cook. That food was amazing. Oh God, I haven’t even asked about Si. You said on the phone they’d broken up. How is he?’

‘He’s probably about three quarters on the road to recovery,’ I tell her. ‘Hopefully about to come out of isolation and join the real world again.’

‘Maybe when he does you’ll all come to me for dinner. How does that sound?’

‘Would you cook,’ I say doubtfully, remembering her inability to even make a toasted cheese sandwich at university, ‘or would it be catered?’