my crumpled pack of cigarettes, am about to light up when my mobile rings. It’s Hugo. I didn’t see him this morning before he left for work. ‘Polly, you have got to say sorry to Alex’s girlfriend.’
‘Why? What did I do?’
‘You practically jumped on him.’
‘Jumped on who?’
‘You were flirting with Alex all night! It’s not funny, Polly!’
I compose myself. ‘I’m sorry, really sorry.’
‘It’s not me you should be saying sorry to.’ When he hangs up, finally I light up, trying to pick my scrambled brain, but still I can’t recall much of last night. I won’t go out this evening. I hold my stomach in; to my delight I can feel my ribs. I’ll cook a special meal for Hugo. Have an early night. I’m going to start a detox programme. No booze for a month and protein shakes in the morning. Playtime is almost over so I call Hugo back, picturing him stewing at his desk. Hugo is now a radio broadcast assistant for the BBC.
‘Hello?’ he says. When friends call, Hugo can’t see the name that comes onto the screen to indicate who’s contacting him.
‘It’s me.’
‘Oh you,’ he sighs. ‘What?’
‘Are you in tonight?’
‘Yep.’
I always know he’s cross when he speaks in clipped tones. ‘I’ll cook for us.’
‘You don’t eat.’
‘Please, Hugo, I’m trying to say sorry here. I’ll call Alex’s girlfriend too.’ To my surprise a tear runs down my cheek. I’m tired and hate arguing with him. ‘I’ll cook us something really nice.’
There’s a long pause. ‘Mum’s spaghetti carbonara?’
‘Deal.’ I smile with relief before asking, ‘Did I really make a massive fool of myself last night?’
‘You need to say sorry.’
I cringe, knowing that means yes. What’s the matter with me? ‘Your friends must think I’m crazy.’
‘A little. Polly, I’m …’
‘I’m not drinking for a month,’ I pledge before he can say he’s worried about me again.
*
After work I return home with all the ingredients for Mum’s carbonara. I also bought Hugo a special gooey chocolate pudding, one of his favourites. I pop it in the fridge, glancing at the bottle of wine in the door. I close the fridge, then open it again, and almost jump out of my skin when my mobile rings.
‘What’s happened?’ I ask Janey, immediately sensing something is wrong.
‘Will and I, we’re over,’ she says tearfully. ‘He’s seeing someone else.’
‘Oh Janey, I’m so sorry.’
Janey met Will during her first year at university. Theywere inseparable throughout college; they then moved into a flat together in Balham, but in the last six months she’d begun to suspect he was having an affair after one too many late nights ‘working’. The final straw was their recent weekend away, in some country hotel, when all he’d wanted to do was sleep and make secretive calls on his mobile. ‘I really need to see you, Polly.’
I hesitate. ‘The thing is, I promised Hugo I’d stay in. Why don’t you come round here? We can talk about it? I’m cooking. There’s plenty of food.’
‘I couldn’t eat a thing. Oh please, Polly,’ she begs now. ‘I need to see you. Hugo won’t mind, will he?’
*
When I return to the table with our bottle of wine, Janey tells me about confronting Will after yet another late night in the office. ‘I told him I deserved better,’ she says, the tears resurfacing.
‘You do. You deserve so much more,’ I say, reaching for her hand.
‘And the least he could do is tell me the truth.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That he was seeing someone, she’s called Clare, she’s been working with him on his latest film, that he didn’t set out to hurt me, all that crap. Oh, Polly.’
I rub her shoulder and stroke her hair. ‘It’s better to know,’ I assure her. ‘I understand it’s painful, and you’re feeling hurt and betrayed, but …’
‘Polly,’ she cuts in, looking up at me with red eyes. ‘If I’m honest, it’s been over for months.
‘Why? What did I do?’
‘You practically jumped on him.’
‘Jumped on who?’
‘You were flirting with Alex all night! It’s not funny, Polly!’
I compose myself. ‘I’m sorry, really sorry.’
‘It’s not me you should be saying sorry to.’ When he hangs up, finally I light up, trying to pick my scrambled brain, but still I can’t recall much of last night. I won’t go out this evening. I hold my stomach in; to my delight I can feel my ribs. I’ll cook a special meal for Hugo. Have an early night. I’m going to start a detox programme. No booze for a month and protein shakes in the morning. Playtime is almost over so I call Hugo back, picturing him stewing at his desk. Hugo is now a radio broadcast assistant for the BBC.
‘Hello?’ he says. When friends call, Hugo can’t see the name that comes onto the screen to indicate who’s contacting him.
‘It’s me.’
‘Oh you,’ he sighs. ‘What?’
‘Are you in tonight?’
‘Yep.’
I always know he’s cross when he speaks in clipped tones. ‘I’ll cook for us.’
‘You don’t eat.’
‘Please, Hugo, I’m trying to say sorry here. I’ll call Alex’s girlfriend too.’ To my surprise a tear runs down my cheek. I’m tired and hate arguing with him. ‘I’ll cook us something really nice.’
There’s a long pause. ‘Mum’s spaghetti carbonara?’
‘Deal.’ I smile with relief before asking, ‘Did I really make a massive fool of myself last night?’
‘You need to say sorry.’
I cringe, knowing that means yes. What’s the matter with me? ‘Your friends must think I’m crazy.’
‘A little. Polly, I’m …’
‘I’m not drinking for a month,’ I pledge before he can say he’s worried about me again.
*
After work I return home with all the ingredients for Mum’s carbonara. I also bought Hugo a special gooey chocolate pudding, one of his favourites. I pop it in the fridge, glancing at the bottle of wine in the door. I close the fridge, then open it again, and almost jump out of my skin when my mobile rings.
‘What’s happened?’ I ask Janey, immediately sensing something is wrong.
‘Will and I, we’re over,’ she says tearfully. ‘He’s seeing someone else.’
‘Oh Janey, I’m so sorry.’
Janey met Will during her first year at university. Theywere inseparable throughout college; they then moved into a flat together in Balham, but in the last six months she’d begun to suspect he was having an affair after one too many late nights ‘working’. The final straw was their recent weekend away, in some country hotel, when all he’d wanted to do was sleep and make secretive calls on his mobile. ‘I really need to see you, Polly.’
I hesitate. ‘The thing is, I promised Hugo I’d stay in. Why don’t you come round here? We can talk about it? I’m cooking. There’s plenty of food.’
‘I couldn’t eat a thing. Oh please, Polly,’ she begs now. ‘I need to see you. Hugo won’t mind, will he?’
*
When I return to the table with our bottle of wine, Janey tells me about confronting Will after yet another late night in the office. ‘I told him I deserved better,’ she says, the tears resurfacing.
‘You do. You deserve so much more,’ I say, reaching for her hand.
‘And the least he could do is tell me the truth.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That he was seeing someone, she’s called Clare, she’s been working with him on his latest film, that he didn’t set out to hurt me, all that crap. Oh, Polly.’
I rub her shoulder and stroke her hair. ‘It’s better to know,’ I assure her. ‘I understand it’s painful, and you’re feeling hurt and betrayed, but …’
‘Polly,’ she cuts in, looking up at me with red eyes. ‘If I’m honest, it’s been over for months.
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