Jamie stared at her, as much it seemed in disbelief as fury.
‘Thank God it was only me who saw, I guess. And I don’t matter.’
‘Well. Neither do I.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You’re drunk,’ Jamie said, but she wasn’t, and he knew she wasn’t, and it was merely a welcome way out for both of them.
40
Torrential rain, the emphatic Manchester sort, the size of stair rods and sounding strong enough to break glass, bucketed down. It was as if the weather had reacted to what she’d done. The sky had exploded, the way Jamie did.
At home, Laurie lay down on the sofa, kicking her shoes off, feet hooked over the arm. She should take the dress off but she couldn’t bring herself to de-Cinderella yet, it might be years before she wore this again. Then she got up, lit some candles and put a Prince compilation on.
He was completely within his rights to let fly at her, she’d been reckless and selfish. She was trying to escape from herself, and everyone’s expectations, and their deal was collateral in testing what it felt like to tart about.
She couldn’t shift the sense she and Jamie were broadcasting on multiple frequencies now, that things were no longer necessarily about what they were about. Emily’s prophecies kept on coming true.
Ding-dong.
Laurie’s heart went bang and she sat up straight. She knew who it was at the door; knew, and yet pretended to herself she didn’t. If it was anyone else, her dismay would swallow her. In that split second, she’d learned something about herself.
‘It’s Jamie.’
She slid the bolt. THANK GOD, and, OH NO.
She opened the door: he was drenched, water running from hairline down his face, coat wrapped round himself like a dressing gown. The clematis over the porch had a small waterfall pouring from it.
‘Hello,’ he said.
‘Hi.’
A short pause, Laurie’s pulse still thundering in her ears.
‘Do you want to come in?’
‘It’d be better than being out here.’
She stood back as he brushed past, soaked enough that he left a wet streak on her dress.
‘Do you want a towel or something?’ Laurie followed him into the front room trying to keep her voice even, trying to conceal how jittery she was.
‘Yeah, if I can?’
Laurie ran upstairs and grabbed one from the bathroom rail. She handed it to Jamie, who patted his face and hair ineffectually.
‘Take the coat off and I’ll stick it on the radiator,’ Laurie said, trying not to notice the wet white shirt underneath.
‘Lovely house,’ he said, glancing round.
‘Thank you, I’m still paying for it,’ Laurie said, smiling. ‘Maybe in more than one way.’
‘It looks exactly like the one on that Oasis album cover.’
‘Ha. Yep. Not entirely unintentional. Maybe I have some of my father in me after all.’
They smiled at each other. Laurie took the towel back and held it over her arms, a small barrier. There was an excruciating silence.
‘Did you know they wanted cans of Red Stripe on that album cover, instead of the red wine, but they weren’t allowed the product placement?’
Stop wittering, Laurie! And he’s turned up on your doorstep, it’s for him to announce his business and fill awkward pauses. I am scared about what he’s going to say.
‘I didn’t know that. Are you some sort of an Oasis superfan?’
‘No! I liked that … décor.’
Jamie gazed at the floor.
‘I’m sorry to turn up like this. I’m sorry I shouted at you. Only, I’ve been turning it over and over in my head. I need to know why you kissed that bloke. I can’t work it out at all.’
Laurie took a shaky breath.
‘Can’t I have kissed him for the reason anyone kisses someone, when knee deep in cheap plonk at a Christmas party?’
‘Number one, he was a right dozy twat. Number two, if it was to make your ex jealous, he wasn’t witnessing it. Number three, it contravened the agreement we made, so you were taking a risk. Number four, fucking kilt. There are four compelling reasons for not kissing Angus from Experian.’
‘… You know when you want to do something totally out of character? The fact I’d never kiss someone like that or do something like that. That was why. It was spontaneous stupidity. That was all.’
Jamie looked at her from under his brow, the muscles in his jaw visibly clenching.
‘OK. I didn’t ask exactly what I wanted to ask. What I really meant is: why did you kiss him, and not me? It seems to me that if you take a Fake Boyfriend to a party, and you’re going to do some meaningless copping off, you probably would do it with the Fake Boyfriend. I know we’re in an unusual situation and a lawyer should be able to cite precedent, and I can’t, but, you know …’
Laurie folded her arms, play-acting insouciance when she was in a state of excited terror.
‘Jamie, do you think you’re so irresistible it’s against the laws of physics for a woman to kiss another man, instead of you?’
‘Objection: deviation. I knew you’d say that and in the words of District Judge Tomkins, it’s a fallacious argument.’
She saw that look again in Jamie’s eyes. That look of starstruck fondness she wanted to see so much, and didn’t trust.
‘What’s Angus got, except a stupid kilt, the goofy tartan wearing nationalist?’
‘It would’ve been … weird to kiss you. We’re friends.’
‘Friends,’ he repeated.
Laurie nodded.
‘When we were dancing together, it felt like two people who are much more than friends.’ He paused. ‘It’s the closest I’ve felt to anyone in my entire life.’
That, in a nutshell, was what Laurie felt.
A silence developed. Laurie didn’t trust her voice.
‘When the song finished, you gave me this look, this look like we were … actually in bed together, or something, this total intimacy that I felt too, and then you bolted. Next I know? ANGUS.’
Laurie sucked in air and wished she’d not lit candles or put Prince on.
‘Please, don’t do this. Don’t turn one of the best friendships I’ve had into the shock twist that we sleep with each other for a while, and then fall out when one of us, who, shock twist, will be you, doesn’t want to keep doing it anymore. It would turn gold into scrap metal. I don’t want to be your millionth fling. This is bigger and better than that.’
‘I agree with all of this.’
‘Then what are you doing here?’
‘To tell you that …’ Jamie paused. ‘I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to be together. Somewhere along the line this stopped being a pretence for me.’
A beat of blood in her ears; time seemed to slow. Should she try to stop this?
‘What about what you said about thinking you were falling in love with someone? What happened to her?’
‘In Lincoln?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was talking about you.’
Laurie’s jaw dropped. ‘No, you weren’t, because you said …’