Mark took my hand and led me out, both of us automatically slipping back into comfortable familiarity. We talked all the way home about everything but us. He told me how he was studying law at Glasgow University. How he had a girlfriend from Edinburgh called Sally. How he still socialised with the guys from school.
I told him about Amsterdam. About Joe and the club. About René and the Dam Central Hotel. About all the people I’d met and all the strange characters that littered the streets. Twice I stumbled in my skyscraper heels and twice he reached out to catch me, saving me from fractures and dislocations. When we reached my house, he stopped and turned.
‘Why did you leave, Carly? You didn’t even tell me you were going. There was Benidorm, then you were grounded, and the next thing I heard was that you’d gone. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Mark, we’d broken up. In fact, if I remember correctly, you’d chucked me.’
‘We were always breaking up, but we always got back together.’ It was true. We’d had more comebacks than Elvis.
‘It wouldn’t have changed anything, Mark. I just wanted to go away and find something new.’
‘You mean someone new.’
I started to get annoyed. What right did he have to castigate me? After all, he was hardly drowning his sorrows with Sally from Edinburgh. He hadn’t exactly condemned himself to a religious order of celibacy whilst pining desperately for me. How was it that he could instantly press the buttons that made my temper boil?
I was about to unleash a tirade of recriminations (you know the ones: ‘You did this, you did that, three years ago last Tuesday you hurt my feelings and by the way I’ve always hated your aftershave…’), when his eyes met mine and his face moved closer… and closer… and I didn’t move away, not even when he began to kiss me so softly, so gently, my lungs forgot to breathe.
He finally stopped. He looked at me, sadness all over his face.
‘I know you’ve moved on now, Carly, but I’ll always be here for you. Friends?’
Was this what friends did? I didn’t think Joe would have agreed. Shit, Joe. What was I doing? How could I kiss someone else? This was a breather. A break. Why was I puckering up with the first, second and third love of my life?
‘Friends,’ I heard myself saying. ‘Always.’
A few weeks later, I knew I was going to have to make a decision. I had been in total denial about Joe, about why I was home and about what I was going to do with my life. This wasn’t just a breathing space; it was a full-scale surgical removal. I couldn’t talk to my parents about it. My dad was only interested in where his next drink was coming from, and my mother was so uptight she wouldn’t understand. Now that I was home again, I’d come to realise a few things about our relationship. I was beginning to understand that we’d never been close because she just couldn’t relate to this daughter who was nothing like her at all. She still lived in the town she grew up in, and she’d married my dad at sixteen and stuck with him because that’s what you did in her world. The concept of having multiple relationships and getting out there and seeing what the world had to offer was alien to her, so I knew she’d tell me to take the safe bet, stay at home, get a job, and live a life similar to hers and that was the last thing I wanted. Being home had only made me see that even clearer.
I went to see Kate, who was working in a nightclub called Chandeliers, to subsidise her meagre hairdressing salary. At the door of the club was Ray, the owner, whom I’d become friendly with over the previous month, as I spent almost every night in the familiar surroundings of mayhem and blaring music. I had regaled him with stories about the club in Amsterdam and we’d spent a few nights swapping tales of the drunken debauchery and decadence of the entertainment industry.
‘You still here, Cooper?’ he greeted me. ‘I thought you were heading back to Mr Wonderful for a spot of clog dancing?’
I laughed. ‘I’m having a bit of a dilemma on the clog front, Ray. Don’t know if my bunions can stand the pressure.’
It was his turn to be amused. He beckoned me inside and we went into his office. Two coffees later and I’d explained what was going on.
‘Has he tried to contact you?’ he asked.
‘He doesn’t have my mum’s address or phone number, so he doesn’t have any way of reaching me. When I started working for him, I just gave him the address of the hotel I was living in at the time. And anyway, that’s not his style. Joe trusts me. If I say that I just need a bit of space, then he’ll trust me to go back. The thing is, I don’t think I want to. I’ve kind of realised that I’m not ready for the whole marriage thing and if I tell Joe that he’ll never forgive me.’ Not that I was even sure he would forgive me for disappearing on him. In my almost twenty year old brain, it was a no-win situation. ‘I think I want to stay here.’ There, I’d finally admitted it. I had goosebumps from head to toe.
‘So, stay. What’s the problem?’ he shrugged.
‘Ray, it’s not that easy. If I stay here, then I need to find somewhere to live and a job and I have to find them quickly. I’m running out of money and there’s no way I’m asking my parents for help.’ I’d told him all about the set-up at home on a previous visit.
‘Tell you what, Cooper, there’s a job for you here. This place is getting so busy and my other three clubs are the same. I
