About a Girl. Lindsey Kelk
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me everything. I always knew this would happen if the two of you got together …’ She was on a roll – there was no way I’d be able to interrupt her successfully a third time. ‘I’ll just cease to exist. It’ll just be like, oh, ha ha ha, let’s have some wine and a dinner party, and, ooh, do you remember that funny little dark-haired girl who used to hang around? I wonder where she is now? Except you won’t even wonder because I’ll be dead and you won’t care.’
‘Are you done?’ I asked.
‘Are you married?’ She countered.
‘No.’ I replied.
‘Then, yes. Hang on, did you sleep with him before or after you found out about Vanessa?’
‘Before.’
‘Ohhh. Shit.’
‘Yeah.’
I held the phone to my ear and we shared a comfortable silence. There really wasn’t anything else to say.
‘Are you OK?’ Amy broke first. As always.
‘Not really.’ I wasn’t any more. I was too tired.
‘Are you mad?’ she asked.
‘I am mad,’ I confirmed.
‘With me?’
‘With everyone alive,’ I said. ‘Except maybe Ryan Gosling.’ Who could be mad at Ryan Gosling?
‘Shall I come over when my train gets in?’ she asked. ‘We can burn pictures of the two of them? Or we could just break loads of her stuff?’
That best friend of mine, what a mind reader. We’d done a lot of picture burning when Amy had ended her engagement. Even though she had been the one to break it off, she was not one to leave that relationship without some righteous anger. It had been a fun time for everyone who wasn’t her ex-fiancé. I imagined he missed his twenty-year-old comic collection almost as much as he missed Amy. Possibly more so.
‘Yeah, I might be asleep, so let yourself in,’ I said. The exhaustion was overwhelming. My limbs felt so heavy I didn’t even know how I was holding up the phone. ‘See you in a bit.’
‘OK. I love you,’ she said, making kissing noises down the phone. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’
‘I’ve never done anything stupid in my life,’ I replied. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’
Collapsing on the closest soft surface, Vanessa’s bed, I exhaled loudly and tried to have a Feeling, the phone still in my hand. But there was nothing there. My brain felt like a clown car, crammed full to overflowing with rainbow wigs, red noses and tutu-wearing bears. I should get out of Vanessa’s room. I should get dressed. I should call my mum and apologize for my behaviour. But I didn’t actually want to. At some point, I was going to have to speak to Charlie. And, must not forget, the council tax needed playing. Priorities, Tess.
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