‘Yeah, he—’ I began, all of a sudden confused. Confused about their sleeping arrangements and that she didn’t mind me knowing. Surely, whatever reason they had for that was private. Unless she was getting over it now? Ready to finally move on herself?
‘I’m so sorry we didn’t get a chance to give you a proper meal before you went to bed.’
‘Oh no, don’t worry. I was so tired,’ I said, trying to read Jamie’s expression. What had she and this Alice girl just been saying about me? About Sam? About both of us?
‘Yeah, I figured. That’s why I let you sleep this morning. We went for a quick run, but I thought you’d rather the lie-in. Maybe tomorrow?’ she asked, looking me up and down as I tried to subtly hold in my stomach; something told me I wasn’t up to scratch.
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Maybe when Elle Macpherson wants to lend me ‘The Body’.
Alice nodded in my direction, entirely unfussed, as I tried not to clock how different I’d look post-run. They were dressed head to toe in Lycra, not a single drop of sweat between them – just like Jamie had arrived home yesterday, back when I thought I was the only ex-girlfriend in the room. Would she tell me what was going on with her and Sam if I asked? I had so few answers, so many questions.
‘Pancakes?’ Jamie asked me, sliding a perfectly circular one onto a plate to complete the stack.
‘Is the Pope a Catholic?’ I smiled, taking a seat and searching the room for sight of Sam. Jamie must have caught me looking as she smiled, handed me the short stack, answering my unspoken question, a brief moment of sadness flashing across her face before she recovered her smile once again. ‘He’s already gone to the surgery.’
‘The surgery?’ I looked from the pancakes to her.
‘You know, for work,’ Jamie replied, smile still pinned to her annoyingly attractive face.
‘No, it’s just, Sam said he’d rather die on the hospital floor’ – bad choice of words – ‘than work in general practice.’ He had loved the pace, the prestige and the drive of working in a hospital – mostly because it made him feel like House.
‘Things change.’ Jamie shrugged. Yes, things did change – but to what? My mouth hung open, wanting to ask but knowing that all my questions were meant for Sam. He’d brought me back here for a reason and my guess was that these ‘changes’ had something to do with it. After all, things changed but people didn’t. And I was still the same girl he fell in love with.
‘Anyway, he finishes at six and then we thought we’d go out for dinner.’ Dinner? If they were on the rocks they were handling it better than Sam and I ever did. But I couldn’t do dinner with the two of them – not yesterday, not today – not until I worked out what the hell was going on – in their lives and in mine.
‘So, you’re not at work today?’ I asked, looking from Jamie to Alice, hoping they’d be disappearing soon. I needed to find a job, any job, and get myself some accommodation without them finding out I’d lied. An improbable task made all the more impossible by Jamie lounging around.
‘She’s not, but I am.’ Alice pushed back her empty plate and stood to go, her legs all Bambi in width, Amazonian in length.
‘Dinner later?’ Jamie asked Alice, sitting down across from me, a stack of pancakes piled high – surely she wasn’t going to eat that. So this dinner was a group vibe, a doctor vibe? Maybe Joshua would be there too? Not that anyone had said he was a doctor. I just assumed. I guess I had assumed a lot of things.
‘Sorry, plans.’ Alice didn’t sound sorry at all, reaching for her gym bag before heading towards the door, managing to exude coolness without lacking warmth.
‘No worries, I’ll invite someone else,’ Jamie said, taking another bite. Alice rolled her eyes before locking them on me.
‘Seriously, Jess, don’t let her set you up with anyone. This girl needs to learn that singleness isn’t an illness to be cured,’ she said to me, every word meant for Jamie, their playful openness laced with a hint of sincerity. Was Alice the break-up support that Zoe had been to me? Before I used up my credit. I gulped like the gooseberry they so clearly thought I was as Alice turned to exit the room and Jamie’s phone buzzed to life.
‘Sorry.’ She mouthed an apology my way as she picked up the call. From the other side of the room I could hear clipped parts of her one-sided conversation.
‘Calm down… it will be okay… I’m off work today… we could grab a coffee… take a breather.’
I took another bite. Who was she talking to? Was this her new boyfriend? My stomach tumbled with something like hope. Hanging up the call, she said, ‘Sorry about that. That’s our friend Tim. He’s a curator, puts on exhibitions in galleries…’ Yes, I know what a curator is, Jamie. ‘He’s putting on an exhibition at CreateSpace, they kind of host travelling exhibitions and pop-ups and stuff…’ Yes, I know what CreateSpace is, Jamie. I smiled through gritted teeth. After years of sifting through the archives of Art Today, booking in the editor-in-chief’s Skype calls so she could hobnob and leech off the other editors around the world, even the Sydney galleries were on my radar. And to be fair, CreateSpace managed to punch above its weight. It was such a cool space, all red-brick and high ceilings and known for hosting some of the best up-and-coming talent – up-and-coming talent our editor-in-chief would get wind of, feature first and pass off as her own. And why would anyone argue with her? As far as art scenes go, London was notorious and Sydney couldn’t help but feel a little out of the loop. Back when I was painting, the only scene I cared about was the one in front of me. Sadly, the industry didn’t feel the same.
‘But he’s struggling, you know?’
I nodded, even though I didn’t know. After months and months of not being listened to at work, I’d elected to let the details wash over me. It was hard to be in the loop when it was clear people didn’t want you in it.
‘He and his partner – professional and personal – they broke up,’ Jamie went on, as I searched her face for any flinches at the b-word. ‘And now he’s grappling to make the exhibition work alone,’ she looked genuinely worried for her friend. Her kindness prompted the same sinking feeling: man, I’m such a bitch. The woman was living with a maybe-ex or almost-ex and she still seemed more concerned about her friend’s break-up. Clearly, she was a saint.
‘Can’t he just advertise for an assistant?’ I asked, looking far too interested in my pancakes.
‘He did.’ Jamie sighed, taking a bite of her own. ‘Put an ad out for one ages ago but it’s just a bad time of year for it, I guess?’
I looked up from my breakfast to catch Jamie shrug and took another bite in attempt to bite my tongue. It wasn’t like I could apply. As far as Jamie was concerned I already had a job. Not that I would be qualified, anyway. Working for an art magazine had ironically meant I hadn’t set foot in an actual gallery in years.
‘He’ll be fine. He’s just stressed.’ She changed tack, returning the topic to me. ‘Anyway, tell me about Art Today Australia,’ Jamie encouraged. There really wasn’t much to say. Nothing in fact – not as far as my working there went. I put down my fork, suddenly less hungry. ‘You’re a painter, aren’t you?’