The Other Woman

I sat back in my chair (the comfiest place I could find), and laughed. Painfully nonetheless, but I laughed. Skippy and Harry recalling stories of the three of us from years ago. My mum had decided to take Alfie for a walk, which really meant that she wanted to gossip with the old ladies in the village, regardless of the fact they were strangers.
“We should have another night like that.” Skippy sat back in the sofa, looking as comfortable as he could. We had talked and talked all afternoon and well into the evening as if nothing had ever gone wrong. As if it was years ago in our little apartment around friends. Harry’s phone buzzed on the table.”Is that the missus?” Skippy sipped slowly on yet another cup of tea. A few years ago we would have been well on our way to being drunk but at half past eight on a wintry Thursday night, a cup of tea was heavenly.
Harry mumbled a reply, hitting the ‘decline call’ button.
“Maybe you should answer that.” I adjusted the cushions around me. As I sat comfortably again, our eyes met. He had an indistinguishable look. Almost as if I had insulted him. There was suddenly a feeling in the room that I just couldn’t put my finger on.
“Does anyone want another tea?” Skippy stood up, I suspect feeling the unneeded tension in the room. He took our mugs and headed to the kitchen, filling the kettle. I heard him bumble his way around the kitchen.
“Did you hear what I said to your mum?” Harry said, suddenly interested in his thumbnail. I knew exactly what he said to my mum earlier that day; he said that he still loved me. The mere thought made my stomach flip. But what if there was something else that he had said? What if that had been followed by a ‘but’? I saved my blushes and shook my head.
……
“So I told him that you can’t expect me to spend a week with your mother in the lake district when I’ve been offered St Tropez.” She certainly knew how to work a room. Clarissa was surrounded by wedding guests all in raptures, hanging on every word she said. I sat at the table with two others; a couple who just couldn’t wait until they got home to bitch about their hosts and their ‘tacky style’.
“And really, who has a marquee reception anymore?” She turned to her husband who by this point was a nodding dog, agreeing with every word his wife said, often punctuated with a shrug and a disgusted expression. I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Lara, sat on her own, glum.
“I can’t fucking stand this.” She said through gritted teeth. I switched chairs so I could sit with her. She looked close to a breakdown.
“It’s OK, we can fix it.” I patted her knee in reassurance. She looked dramatically different from the woman that greeted us at the opening of the marquee; her eye makeup had smudged and her eyes were puffy red where she had been crying in the loo.
“I should’ve known it wouldn’t be perfect.” She sighed, reaching for what was left in a bottle of wine that had been left on the table.
“We can sort it. You’ve still got the cake to cut and your first dance.” I shuffled my chair closer to her to pull her into a hug. “How about we go for a cheeky cigarette while the boys aren’t looking.” She nodded, her eyes lighting up at the idea of a sneaky fag like she was back at school hiding behind the bike sheds. I linked her arm and grabbed my clutch bag as we left. We hid around the back of the catering end of the marquee where no-one would spot us.
“It’s not like they’ll be looking for us.” Lara mused as she blew out a puff of smoke.
“It’s not that bad.” I started.
“Have you not seen Skippy this evening?” She tried leaning against the pole that held the marquee up and tipsily stumbled when she felt it move. “And Harry is no better.” She pointed her cigarette at me as if to prove a point.
“Well..” I started but I couldn’t finish the sentence. I couldn’t justify the fact that he was getting close to another woman.
“Skippy is married now. He can’t just carry on like this every time a good looking woman walks in.” I nodded. My own insecurities bubbled up quite quickly then. “I should’ve said no when my cousin asked to bring her as a plus one.” She shook her head at her own stupidity. “He even told me himself that she would do anything to be mentioned in Tatler.” She stamped her cigarette out on the floor.
“How about we get you sorted out first?” She nodded and led the way to the stately home where the couple would spend their night. We walked past the side of the marquee and for some reason my mind told me to look through the window. Harry had his arm around Clarissa and they looked like they fit together. They looked like a royal couple. That stopped me in my tracks. It seemed like an ideal breeding ground for all of my insecurities. I watched them laugh at someone’s joke.
“Maybe you could trade Rebecca in for a better model.” I heard, followed by raucous laughter. I must have been stood there, watching the scene unfold, for ages until Clarissa spotted me and gave me her, soon becoming, trademark smirk.
….

“I was worried about you in San Francisco.” He played with the corner of his phone case.
“You shouldn’t have been. I was more than safe.” I adjusted the blanket around me, feeling the chill in the air.
“Obviously you weren’t.” I was half expecting a laugh but Harry’s eyes still looked concerned. “And if I wasn’t, you couldn’t have helped.” I remembered Skippy’s message that told me Harry was on his honeymoon.
“I came home as soon as I found out.” He shifted to the end of the sofa and reached out to hold my hand. Tentatively I reached out for his hand too. I could feel the warmth of his hand burn against my cold fingers. It felt right. It felt like I had found a missing piece. We both smiled at each other, almost giddy. I heard the front door open and my mum bring Alfie in from the cold evening.
“It is bitterly cold out there. Cold enough to snow I’d say.” Our hands snapped apart and I got comfy in the chair again. I heard her shrug her coat off and hang in on the coat rack. I still felt giddy from just holding hands with Harry. “Mrs Coxon has decided to stay with Mr Coxon, Even though she caught him with the skiing instructor.” Mum strided into the kitchen, her head buzzing with village gossip. “And Mr Abbott found his allotment thief. Turns out it was just some kids stealing the odd grape, but he sounds like a character.” She had been on one walk around the village but was the new member of the curtain-twitchers’ society. I stole a glance at Harry and I had to stop myself giggling. I felt like a teenage girl again! I hear mum and Skippy arguing over how to make a cup of tea. Harry pointed towards his phone. I looked confused, then I saw a new text.
'You look pretty when you blush'
Skippy sat next to Harry on the sofa. “Your mum found some biscuits in the cupboard.” He had crumbs stuck to the corners of his mouth. I replied to harry.
'This room is very warm. I don’t blush'
“I know I bought some a few weeks back, but I couldn’t remember where I put them.” My phone buzzed again.
'So you won’t blush when I tell you that I would give anything to kiss you'
I really did blush this time. “You’ve always had good taste in biscuits.” Skippy went back to the kitchen to find the packet. I caught Harry’s eye.
“Stop it!” I mouthed to him. He grinned like the cat that got the cream.