Game Over

‘What about Darren?’

‘Darren?’ The bread in my mouth won’t be swallowed. I chew and chew but it simply won’t go down. I drink some more water. ‘Darren who?’ won’t wash.

‘Darren taught me a lot.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I owe him a great deal. He opened my eyes to the possibility of intimacy being an option for me.’

‘Don’t speak to me as though I am one of your TV executives,’ she snaps. It’s unlike Issie to be down on me. I think about what I’ve just said. It does sound like pretentious wank. But then I’m new to this game of speaking your heart. I’d always been content with speaking my mind, which is easy in comparison.

‘Darren was important,’ I admit.

‘You fell in love with him.’

I can’t tell Issie the truth. I can’t tell her that marrying Josh is the ultimate armour. She loves Josh as much as she loves me and she wouldn’t forgive me. I have no choice but to rewrite history.

‘No, Issie, Darren was an infatuation.’ Firm. Denying Darren hurts.

‘You said you were in love.’ Rigid.

‘I was wrong.’ Reasonable.

‘You said you’re never wrong.’ Irritating.

‘I was wrong about that too.’ I’m almost shouting. I take a deep breath and have a stab at regaining some self-control. ‘Darren told me things that no one else could tell me and he taught me to look at things differently but I didn’t fall in love.’

She stares at me with naked disbelief. ‘Oh, so you can’t quote every single word he ever uttered to you? You didn’t laugh with him? You don’t talk about him constantly?’

Fair point.

‘Darren was…’ I’m struggling. ‘… exhilarating and amazing but he was a stranger. Women don’t fall in love with men they’ve just met.’

‘Of course they do!’

‘Why are we talking about Darren? It’s Josh I feel secure with. Josh I’ve known for ever.’

‘That doesn’t sound like love to me, it sounds like the safe choice.’

The waitress arrives with our food and we call an uneasy truce over the table. We sulkily eat our goat’s cheese salad and glumly glug our wine. This isn’t what I wanted. I wanted her to be happy for me.

‘I admit Josh doesn’t send my stomach into a somersault.’

‘The way Darren did.’

I ignore her interruption. ‘But that’s to be expected, I’ve known Josh for ever.’

What am I supposed to say?

Obviously Issie’s disappointed that things are changing, but things can’t stay the same. I wish they could have. Meeting Darren changed everything. I’m lonely in crowds now. But I’m a survivor and marrying Josh is my best survival tactic. Whilst I’m sorry that it makes Issie uncomfortable, I am completely without option. I push on.

‘Darren was about sexual attraction. I got carried away. I know I said some pretty crazy things at the time.’ I glance at Issie and try to work out if I’m convincing her. I can see by her face that she wants to believe me. Almost as much as I want to believe me. I press on. ‘Josh wants to marry me. I love Josh. He’s like a brother to me.’ Issie tries to interrupt but I hold my hand up to stop her. ‘Maybe, at the moment, Josh loves me in a different way. But two people rarely love each other equally, in the same way, at the same time. We’ve years together, we’ll even up.’ I pause for maximum impact and then I plead, ‘I’ll be a good wife to him.’ I mean this. I plan to be perfect. I’ll try to make it up to Josh for not being in love with him. I’ll take fastidious care in putting his needs before mine. He can choose which side of the bed to sleep on. And I’ll attend all his work functions. I’ll even learn the rules of rugby. Josh will get a good deal.

Issie pauses and thinks about what I’ve said. We sit for an eternity.

Finally she mutters, ‘I can’t believe you’d play games with Josh, so I have to believe that you are genuine about this, Cas.’ She stares at me for about two hundred years.

‘I am.’ Her face relaxes into a broad, delighted and assured smile. I force a tight, relieved smile. I’ve often condemned her for being too trusting, saying she invites people to wipe their Manolo Blahniks on her soul. Now I’m grateful that she’s so ingenuous.

We are through it. Everything is going to be brilliant from now on.

I show her my ring. She ooohs and ahhs, appropriately. She says that she definitely will not wear pink, lilac or frills. I reach into my bag and pull out the Amanda Wakeley Wedding Collection brochure. We both giggle shrilly and generally allow ourselves to get completely over-excited.

This is what girlfriends are born for.

16

A whole new world opens up in front of me. An entirely novel conversational track. An individual way to relate to my mother, Josh’s mother, aunts, neighbours, women I meet at dinner parties, restaurants, art galleries, the gym – my Ph.D. in Brides and Setting up Home. What had I talked about before I had the cluster on my finger? It surprises and delights me that wedding preparation is an admirable substitute for sex. Which is a good thing because Josh and I have decided not to rush having sex.

‘Why?’ Issie doesn’t understand.

‘Well, we’re both finding it a bit harder than we imagined crossing over from friends to lovers.’

‘Isn’t that a fairly major detail, since you are planning on getting married? Aren’t married people supposed to be lovers?’

‘Yes, and friends.’ I sound defensive. ‘We thought of getting through the initial embarrassment by just getting pissed and shagging each other. After all, we’ve both done it to other people often enough in the past. But now that seems so tacky and cheap. I realized that the reason I can’t rush this is because I want it to be really special. A few more months without sex will be good for me.’

‘It might grow over, you know,’ teases Issie. I throw a cushion at her but we both shut up as Josh comes into the room with a tray of wine and Pringles.

‘Why do I get the feeling you were talking about me?’ He sits in-between us. Issie and I exchange glances.

‘Just singing your praises,’ Issie says.

Little white lies are a way of life. Issie could hardly say, ‘Oh, actually we were just talking about yours and Cas’s vow of celibacy.’

Although in the past we did discuss every aspect of our lives. The nitty gritty, not just loose morals but, when travelling in India, loose faeces too.

Tonight after Issie leaves I’ll tell Josh what we were really talking about. It’s a small shift in the dynamics, almost imperceptible and certainly not important.

Issie’s brother is designing our wedding invites so Issie has come round tonight to help us decide on the wording. Which is the other tiny change – Issie rarely pops round just to hang out any more. She only ever visits when she has a reason. Still, there are plenty of reasons – choosing dresses and flowers, repainting Josh’s flat, returning a casserole dish. Her visits are just as frequent, so it’s not really a problem.

‘So, Issie? Have you decided – are you going to be the bridesmaid or the best man?’ asks Josh.

‘I’m going to be the bridesmaid. I like the outfit better.’

‘You like me better,’ I screech playfully.

I notice she doesn’t answer me but instead asks, ‘So where are you getting married?’

We answer simultaneously and differently.

‘In London,’ I say.

‘At home,’ says Josh.

‘At home,’ I offer quickly.

‘In London,’ he presses.

‘We haven’t worked out the details,’ I smile apologetically to Issie. Wisely, she doesn’t comment.

‘We do have a date,’ says Josh. I snuggle closer to him.