I felt quite a frisson putting on my make-up and getting dressed for the barbecue. I was excited to see the kids but also quite giggly at the prospect of turning up with a man on my arm after all the years of being single. I just knew Helen would be delighted, she was always trying to fix me up with Tim’s colleagues, friends of her brother, random men on the street. I never took part in any of her real or imagined ‘blind dates’, telling her I was happy single and didn’t need a man. And I was, but a good-looking guy who used to teach my son (therefore nothing like my cold, abusive ex) and someone my friends knew and liked was my kind of blind date.
I applied my lipstick, trying not to smile at the thought of Helen’s face, when I walked in with James. In all the years I’d known her, I’d only ever had the odd date that never seemed to go any further, so it had always been ‘just Georgie’. So for me to arrive that afternoon with a bottle of chilled Sauvignon and ‘Mr Ronson’, would bring squeals of delight from Helen. I smiled to myself imagining her dragging me off to the bottom of the garden demanding to know the details. She was so sophisticated, but could also be such a kid, and reminded me of the friends I’d had as a teenager, always ready for fun, a few drinks and a laugh. Helen was good for me, we all need to unleash our inner teenagers now and again, especially women in their forties who’d met someone that made them feel eighteen again. And that was how I felt.
I drove to the cottage with James – as this was my invite, I felt I should – plus it was way out on the moors and not easy to find.
As we pulled up outside, I could hear Lauren laughing in the garden. It still haunts me, her laughter.
‘They’re out the back,’ I said to James, as we climbed out of the car, and I led him round the side of the house and through the gate into the back garden.
It was a lovely evening, in late May, birds still singing, the garden a beautiful, small sloping space, light dappling through the trees. Helen was stood by the French doors chatting to Sadie, Tim and Sam were doing their caveman thing with steaks on the barbie. As soon as Sam saw me, his face lit up, he looked older, more mature – perhaps it was just me, but I felt like being married had already altered his features.
I guided James past the prickly rose bush, and Sam and Tim immediately stepped out from behind the barbecue to greet him. Sam went off to get him a beer, while Tim looked from me to him. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, James,’ he said, smiling.
‘Georgie kindly invited me,’ James replied.
‘Don’t look surprised, you gave him my number,’ I teased, expecting Tim to laugh, but he didn’t. He just nodded slowly, looking from me to James, his face without expression. I was expecting this encounter to be fun, but there was an awkwardness between the men that made me long for Helen to intervene.
I turned around; she was still by the French doors with Sadie, they were talking, but I knew Helen only tolerated her for Lauren. She had seen me but hadn’t come over to say hello, which was really odd. I gave her a little wave and a smile, but she seemed to be avoiding me, and looked away.
What the hell was going on here? Had I totally misjudged the response to me bringing James along? Had I got it wrong and she and Tim didn’t like him? I couldn’t work it out, so while the men stood in silence, I abandoned James and began to make my way over to Helen. Just at that moment, Lauren appeared, and Helen said something to her. I stopped heading towards them as I saw Lauren’s face; she looked horrified, and Helen gently moved her inside and followed.
I was so confused, I didn’t know which way to turn, but at that point, Sam reappeared with a bottle of beer for James and a glass of wine for me, so I turned and walked back to where James was stood. He was alone now; Tim had gone back to the barbecue. I smiled at him and thanked Sam for the drinks, feeling very vulnerable. Why were my friends behaving this way, and why did I feel like the Jacksons were forming a circle – and I wasn’t in it?
Sam started talking to James about the cricket that day, so I took the opportunity to wander off and make my way into the house. I had to find out what the hell was going on with Helen and Lauren, but before I could get inside, Sadie emerged, smiling and holding up her glass. ‘Can I get you another?’ She must have seen I was holding a full glass – so was she just trying to keep me away from Helen?
‘I’m fine thanks,’ I said, holding up the glass.
We chatted for a little while about the wedding and the weather and found a few other tiny little corners of common ground. But all the time we were talking, I kept thinking, Where’s Helen and Lauren and why did they look so horrified? And is Sadie just chatting, or is she standing on guard?
‘Cute little garden, isn’t it?’ she was saying now.
I gazed around, I was probably overthinking things regarding Helen and Lauren, so I tried to push it from my mind. The garden wasn’t what I would describe as cute. It really wasn’t the bijou suburban garden with parasols, sofas and trendy firepit I would have expected for Lauren. No doubt that would come, but for now the garden furniture was rickety wicker and Sam had fashioned a rustic firepit from old breeze blocks. He didn’t care how it looked; my son would sit for hours with his binoculars, gazing at the birds and wildlife, oblivious to what he was sitting on and whether it was fashionable for this year’s garden. But it wasn’t Lauren.
‘It’s an elevated woodland terrace,’ I replied. ‘That’s what it said in the estate agent’s blurb.’
Sadie looked at me. ‘I guess.’
We stood in silence, nothing more to say, as she continued to stand in the doorway, blocking my entrance.
Then, to my relief, Helen popped her head out from behind Sadie. ‘Sorry, Georgie, it’s chaos – I’ll be with you in a minute, just opening the champagne.’ She was smiling broadly and waving a bottle in the air, the usual Helen energy had been restored, the megawatt smile, the reapplied lipstick, all was right with the world. Had I completely misinterpreted the look on her face when she saw me and James? And what about Lauren?
‘Coming through, coming through,’ Helen was calling now, and as she approached, Sadie seemed to decide it was okay to leave me. She wandered over to chat to Sam as soon as Helen appeared in the doorway, her voice raised in excitement – or was it nerves? It wasn’t like Helen to be anxious; she was the coolest, calmest, most confident person I knew. She was now teetering onto the tiny patio with a large tray containing eight glasses and a misty bottle of champagne protruding from an ice bucket. Once she hit the slope of the garden, she staggered slightly and I rushed to help her, holding her arm with one hand and grabbing a couple of glasses.
‘Damage limitation,’ I said. ‘If you hit the deck and the glasses break, at least there’s one each for you and me.’ We both laughed, as she negotiated the sloping ground in heels. We reached the rickety old garden table and safely deposited the tray. We were just a few feet away from where the men were now standing.
‘What are we like, Georgie?’ Helen said, laughing at the way we’d both almost collapsed due to the gradient of the garden. Then she looked up, as if she’d not seen him before. ‘James,’ she said, by way of welcome. It struck me as rather flat for Helen. And I started to feel slightly paranoid again. Perhaps she was pissed off because I’d brought him along? ‘Did James come with you?’ she suddenly said under her breath. The question was directed at me, but she was looking at the men drinking beer and talking meat.