Page 53 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘We lost a client. Sam is pointing the finger at everyone except herself. I’ve been taking phone calls all evening. She’s not been pleasant.’
‘I’m sorry… I mean, it’s thirty-one. It’s such a nothing age.’
‘You’d have been happy with a takeaway and a film.’
‘You know me too well. I reckon I’m just going to get pissed. Sod the consequences to my milk supply.’
‘It’s a plan. I got you a present, by the way. I mean, I got the cake and this. It’s from both of us.’
Will reaches into his back pocket and gets out a small envelope. I open it tentatively. It’s an M&S gift card for twenty pounds. I stare at it in my hands; my shoulders drop.
‘I dunno…’ he says with a shrug. ‘Didn’t know what to get you?’
Oh. Gift cards can be good. They’re super practical, aren’t they? But I’m drawn back to all the gifts I usually get from Will. The homemade CDs, the nostalgic postcards, books with handwritten messages and themed stationery. He also had a habit of buying me retro band button badges that I’d wear on my satchels. But maybe this is a sign that we need to be older and more sensible. I am making him take part in this ridiculous charade after all. I can buy myself some new slippers. He comes in to give me a hug.
‘Happy birthday, B.’
‘Thanks.’
The baby looks up, his gaze expecting more.
‘And so we were wondering about the Ofsted requirements and we thought it’d be an excellent way to comply.’
It turns out when you’re throwing a party, your friend and sister conspire so that half of the teaching staff rock up. That’s Nick from the maths department chatting to Emma and that’s Mr Forbes from history grinding against Lucy. It’s a collision of worlds that sits uneasily with me. I feel like some sort of social glue. Every time I see a form of interaction, I run over to intervene. Hello, this is Jack, he teaches history; this is someone off my sister’s course at university hence the strong smell of youth and the dirty vest. Oh, he’s come as Bruce Willis. I knew that. I hope you save Nakatomi Plaza, don’t trust anyone who looks like Alan Rickman. People inundate me with gifts and greetings and ask me where to put their coats and I point them towards the stairs. Lucy turns the music up, Emma turns it down. I think I’ve had about four shots of sambuca so the strong scent of liquorice fills my nostrils. In front of me is Alicia, my head teacher, who apparently also got the invitation but has turned up just wearing blue. Like a blueberry? She clutches a drink which is an interesting punch concoction that I think Lucy mixed. I have no idea what’s in it but with every increasing sip, Alicia seems to lean further to her right like a tower in Pisa.
‘That’s brilliant. All good for the kids, really. Have you met…’ I tap a person next to me on the shoulder. ‘Bruce Lee, here?’
Bruce turns around. I am surrounded by Bruces: there’s also a Springsteen behind me supping on a beer and I think that’s a Forsyth. Nope, that’s just Nigel from design technology. Oh. Bruce Lee isactuallyJason. What ishedoing here? Will’s friend instantly sees my disdain for him but tries to hug it out.
‘Yo, B-Box.’ That’s his nickname for me. It makes no sense. I can’t beat box unless he’s hinting at the shape of my face or my genitalia which then is really quite offensive. I never really understood Jason. He works in some sort of social media and marketing gig and is completely and resolutely single. I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t want a relationship but because he’s in love with himself. I like how he loves Will and I am in awe of his banana yellow tracksuit today but I blame him for the times where he’s made Will drink so much that he comes back home throwing up out of his nose. Maybe I need to ask him? Why has Will been hanging out with you and not telling me?
‘We match too,’ he says, alluding to the colour of our outfits. Alicia finds this hilarious.
‘Jason, this is Alicia, my boss. Jason is a friend.’ Of sorts. She’s polite but waves at a member of the school office behind me and is distracted. Jason stands there while I glare at him.
‘How’s things? How’s the tiddler?’
‘Joe? He’s well.’
‘That’s good. Parenthood suits you and Will.’
‘Except when you’ve been leading Will astray.’
He studies my face, wondering how much to divulge and how hard I am going to fish for information. The bro code is strong with this one.
‘He told you? I told him not to tell you.’
This is why Jason and I have never got on. He makes me feel like I keep Will under my thumb. We stand here in a strange showdown situation where I wait for him to at least wish me a happy birthday but he doesn’t. I’m loath to carry on speaking to him so smile and pat him on the back (hard) and try to traverse through the crowd. A person appears in front of me in a burger costume. Sean.
‘Oh my God, what have you come as? Are you wearing tights?’ I ask him, laughing.
‘My mum’s. They’re light tan. Happy birthday, matey.’
I throw my arms around him. He hugs back.
‘You look a state, never mind me…’
‘You’re such a knob. Have you seen Will?’ I look around the room.
