But being Jas, she can’t let it lie, and wounded by what she sees as criticism about her single status, she soon swoops back to me and Alex. ‘So, how is everything in Camelot?’ she asks.
I pretend I don’t hear the sarcasm in her comment, just the humour. ‘Great. He’s cooking for me tomorrow,’ I add, wanting to share this with my friend but at the same time feeling guilty for my happiness.
‘You’ll be moving in next week.’
‘No, that would be too soon.’
‘I was joking,’ she says tartly.
‘So was I.’ I smile. But inside I’m disappointed in Jas’s reaction. She’s supposed to be my best friend and I would love her to support me on this. ‘Jas, I know the timing’s crap, you’ve just finished with Richard,’ I say going along with her relationship narrative, ‘but I wish you could be a tiny bit happy for me. You’ve always been so encouraging before, but this time you seem, I don’t know, really quite negative.’
The penny seems to drop and her face changes, then she puts her arm around me. ‘Babe, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m being selfish. It’s just that sometimes I look around and see other people in settled relationships, and it reminds me of how I used to be before…’ her voice trails off and I realise I should have known this negativity isn’t about me and Alex. It’s about Tony. She doesn’t speak about him much because it’s still so painful, probably always will be.
‘I know you still miss him, even after all this time,’ I say, touching her arm.
She nods. ‘People expect me to be over it, but when someone you love dies, you never get over it. Hell, it’s been years, I was a different person when I was married – but he’ll always be here.’ She touches her chest.
‘I can’t begin to understand the pain.’ I sigh.
‘Sameera getting married makes me think about my wedding day, all the hope, and the optimism. And you’ve met this guy who seems great—’ She puts the emphasis on ‘seems’ and I wince slightly. ‘And when I say things, it isn’t because I’m being negative about him – I just don’t want you to get hurt. So please don’t take my “negativity” as anything more than just me trying to look after my friend.’ She smiles and squeezes my hand. ‘I am happy for you – just cautious.’
‘I know. But I’m good – and what’s the worst that can happen? He could turn out to be as rubbish as Tom? But I want to enjoy the fun and the butterflies bit while it lasts… And I need my bestie with me.’
‘I’m there for you, girl, but you can be naïve – and, let’s face it, I’ll be the one picking up the pieces if this one falls apart, won’t I?’
I bite my tongue. Her comment has annoyed me, but the ice-cold Pinot soothes my hot throat, taking the edge off slightly.
‘I think we both need to start prioritising ourselves,’ I say to Jas. ‘And you, madam, need to stop worrying about everyone else’s love life and concentrate on your own.’
‘What love life? Everyone but me has one. Even bloody Harry’s in a long-term relationship.’ She laughs mirthlessly. I reckon it’s a hazard of the job: she’s great at other people’s relationships but seems to have so much disappointment in her personal life. I’m the same when it comes to clients and friends: I care too much about everyone else and don’t always consider my relationships. Perhaps that’s what happened with Tom and me. If I’d been more present, and not immersed in my job, he might have become a better partner, a more caring, more engaged boyfriend. After all, it takes two.
‘I might go and see that shrink again,’ Jas says, playing with the stem of her glass.
‘Yes, that might help.’ I nod, feeling doubtful. In our line of work, we have access to therapy, but it didn’t really work for me. ‘My problem with therapy,’ I say, ‘is I feel guilty about how my guilt is affecting the therapist. How’s that for irony?’
‘Silly cow.’ She laughs. ‘I told you, anyway, you don’t need a therapist. You can just talk to me.’
‘Yeah, thanks, Jas,’ I say, but it seems that my friend’s support comes with conditions. I’m still smarting slightly from her earlier comment about having to be the one who picks up the pieces when my love life goes pear-shaped. ‘Jas – just so we’re clear – you really don’t have to take on responsibility for me. I’m making my own choices and, whatever happens, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself,’ I say gently.
‘I know you are, but it took you a while to come round after the Tom stuff – him blaming you for everything bad in his life, the phone calls and other weird shit. And because of that you weren’t present for a while, I just don’t want to lose my best friend. Again.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
It was tough after Tom, and he didn’t make it easy, but I’ve moved on now, and don’t want to think about all that.
‘I just want you to know that I’ll be there for you whatever. If he hurts you, or if he’s married or—’
‘Jas, enough,’ I say, and raise my eyebrows in a gentle warning gesture.
‘Sorry, I just think—’ She can see by my facial expression I don’t want to hear this again, and she thinks better of it.
‘Perhaps you should go on Meet Your Match?’ I suggest, knowing that if she had a new relationship, it might be a distraction and she might worry less about mine.
‘No way, I need a break from men,’ she huffs. ‘I’m certainly not chasing them online. I’m perfectly happy on my own.’ She smiles, but her eyes say something different.
Chapter Five
The following day is a nightmare of red tape and drama, interspersed with Jas sniping, Sameera shushing, and a mess of crumbs all over the desks from Gemma’s leftover lemon cake, which Harry brought in for us to comfort eat. The way the day’s panning out I reckon we could do with even more sweet carbs – we’ve eaten everything in sight.
‘I think Chloe Thomson’s having issues with her mum’s new boyfriend and Jack Morris has nowhere to sleep tonight – and that’s just for starters,’ I say to Jas when she asks if I’m busy.
‘Okay, sounds like my day.’ She sighs. ‘I’m tired and was hoping I could go early tonight, but I can see that’s not going to happen.’
‘Yeah, God only knows when I’m going to leave the office,’ I grumble. ‘I’d better call Alex to say I’m going to be late.’
‘Oh yeah, he’s cooking for you tonight, isn’t he? Lucky you!’ she says, wandering back to her office. She said this kindly, with no apparent subtext and I appreciate that she’s trying to be positive for me.
I pick up the phone to call Alex. ‘I know you’re cooking and everything but I’m going to be working late tonight,’ I explain when he answers.
‘That’s okay. You’re allowed to be late,’ he teases. ‘After all, I was late last time.’
I’m grateful for this, he’s so laid-back and isn’t making a big deal of it. ‘Things are crazy here. We can postpone if you like.’