Putting Alice Back Together. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
and not picking it up because it was me. It wasn’t fair. We’d been through everything together. When he was in the closet, he’d been only too happy to drag me to every family function imaginable and pass me off as his girlfriend and then, when he was coming out, night after night had been spent metaphorically holding his hand as he worked up the courage to tell his family and friends. And once out! Oh, yes, he’s Mr Bloody Sensible now, but he was wild for a while there, dragging me along to gay bars where I’d sit and pretend not to notice how long it took him to go to the men’s room.
Now, though, when I needed him, he was too busy being happy with Matthew.
I was making lime margaritas—there was a mountain of limes that I was juicing and I had all the ingredients lined up to whizz in the blender but Dan filled the kettle.
‘I’m not drinking,’ he said, which meant that he wouldn’t be staying.
‘I got a couple of movies, though.’ More and more it was getting like this with Dan. Since he had started going out with Matthew I was slotted in, like a dental appointment or a quick dash to the shops on a lunch break. ‘Stay the night, Dan, you haven’t for ages.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Okay.’ I knew not to push it. ‘At least stay for a while, have a drink…’
‘Actually, no.’ He looked uncomfortable, six feet two and in his suit he looked bloody gorgeous but, actually, nervous. ‘You and I…’ he gave a tight smile ‘… well, it’s causing a few problems with Matthew.’
‘What?’ I was about to turn on the blender, but instead I laughed. ‘How, for God’s sake? We’ve established you don’t fancy me. Can never fancy me… Surely to God you’re allowed friends.’
‘Of course I am…’ He was working his way up to telling me something and suddenly I didn’t want to hear it, so I turned the blender on instead, but you can only blend a margarita for so long and after a moment or two I had no choice but to stop. I could feel his chocolate-brown eyes on me, but I didn’t turn and look at them, instead focusing a great deal of attention on salting two glasses as he spoke to my back.
‘Every time I come here I get smashed and end up staying.’
I had the salt in lovely perfect lines, the glasses were icy cold from the fridge, and I slowly poured two drinks before I answered.
‘Don’t get smashed, then.’ Now I did turn and look at him, angry, because how the hell was it my fault? Since when did his boyfriend decide it was up to me to police him? ‘I’m hardly pouring drinks down your throat and tying you to the bed, Dan.’
‘I know that.’
‘If you don’t want to be here, don’t use Matthew as an excuse.’ He closed his eyes and I could hear him drag in a deep breath.
‘I do want to be here.’
‘Then tell Matthew that.’ I was near tears, I was so angry I felt like crying—bloody Matthew was so jealous he hated Dan out of his sight for anything more than five minutes. Every time we went out he texted about a gazillion times and if Dan did have the guts to stay over, his phone would start bleeping at the crack of dawn.
‘I have told him,’ Dan said. ‘I’m here, aren’t I? It’s just…’ His voice trailed off and then, because he knows me, because he knew that even if I wasn’t boohooing, even if there were no tears, I was actually crying. We had promised, promised that no relationship would ever come between our friendship, and now it seemed one was.
Dan gives the nicest cuddles.
I stood in the kitchen and I just leant on him, I smelt him and it was the nicest place in the world to be and I didn’t want to let him go, I didn’t want him going back to Matthew, but I knew if I stamped my foot too hard, then it would be a long time till I saw him again. That Matthew would up the bloody curfew, so I trod carefully.
‘Make me a coffee, then,’ I said to his chest.
‘Serious?’
‘Sure.’ I felt him smile, felt him relax as I made it easier for him. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to ring Mum tonight and sometimes she talks for hours.’ He kissed the top of my head and then he loosened his arms and smiled down at me and I smiled back.
Dan, the only guy on this planet I can look straight in the eye.
‘I love you, Alice.’
‘I know.’
‘I am here for you.’
‘I know.’ Yeah, take that, Matthew, I thought, you can bitch and moan and whine, but you’ll never break up our friendship.
‘One won’t kill, I guess…’ He picked up the margarita and rolled his eyes in bliss as he took a sip.
‘You’ll get me in trouble with Matthew,’ I warned.
‘We just won’t tell him.’
I felt a rush of relief as he came back to me, a whoosh of euphoria as whatever crisis had loomed was somehow averted.
Dan was back and together we always had a ball.
We just didn’t that night.
He asked about my work, but I didn’t want to just talk about that. ‘I’m worried about Roz,’ I said, hoping that would get him going. He loved a gossip, but Dan rolled his eyes.
‘I really think she’s depressed.’
‘I’d be depressed if I looked like that,’ Dan said. ‘No wonder her husband left—you’d slash yourself if you had to wake up to that face every morning.’
‘But he didn’t leave her.’ I frowned as much as my Botoxed forehead would allow. ‘It was the other way around—Roz left him. Though God knows why, he was gorgeous. Gorgeous,’ I added for effect, and Dan shot me a look of disbelief. ‘She says they married way too young and that she felt stifled, that she needed to find herself.’
‘Find a bigger McDonald’s outlet more like.’ Dan pursed his lips and then he glanced at his watch and I felt a flutter of panic, so I quickly changed the subject to Dan’s favourite.
Me!
That was a joke.
My career, or lack of it.
I hated my job. I knew, I knew, in these times it was good to have a job—but, frankly, I didn’t know if I would for much longer. I did the website as well sometimes, thanks to Dan pushing me to do a course, but mainly I sat with headphones on, typing up birth, marriage and death notices, announcements, stuff for sale, jobs, that sort of thing. We used to do more dating ads, that was fun, but everything was moving to the internet, not just dating—and what with eBay (love it, love it), I couldn’t see my job lasting much longer.
So I told him all about my worries, that I was sure management was up to something, hoping he’d be so consumed by my problems, that he’d fill up his glass. ‘I’m probably just being pessimistic.’
‘You’re being realistic,’ Dan said, which made the knot in my stomach tighten. ‘Everyone’s cutting back. You need to get some real qualifications.’ I hadn’t really wanted a doom-and-gloom careers appraisal. I wanted him to say that I’d been there nine years, that of course my job was safe, but Dan had said all he was going to. He looked at his watch again and I knew, despite the win with the margarita, I was about to lose my audience. ‘I’ve got to go, Al,’ he said. ‘I’m exhausted.’
It wasn’t even nine, but I followed him to the door, determined not to push him to stay again, and I accepted his hug and kiss goodnight.
‘Think about it,’ Dan said.
‘Think about what?’
‘What we spoke about the other week—you really need to think about going back to your studies.’
‘I