Chapter Lace #2
‘No. She’s going to be gone for a while,’ I say, but I’m a terrible liar. I don’t think he’s buying it. There is a moment of stillness where I think he’s about to go, but then he lurches towards the door, and I have to block him.
‘Lace! Lace! Lace!’ he’s yelling over my head. People on the street behind are beginning to stare as they walk by. This is excruciating.
‘She’s not here,’ I say. ‘Stop yelling, please. Please stop yelling. Please.’ He groans and rubs his face.
‘Just tell her that she needs to bring Peppy back. I need him back now.’ He starts walking backwards and yelling up at Lace’s window. ‘I need Peppy back now.’ He loses his footing and tumbles in the middle of the street.
‘Are you okay?’ I shout. ‘Sir?’ He looks at me as if it’s my fault, dusts off his hands and walks away.
When I return to Lace’s room, she is in her faded red velvet chair, and Peppy is asleep on her lap. She is stroking him and mumbling something into his fur.
‘Ian wants his cat back,’ I say. Lace doesn’t look up. ‘Lace? . . . Lace? . . . LACE?’
‘It’s not his cat. It’s his wife’s,’ she finally says. I cross my arms and give her my best teacher stare. ‘What? Oh gosh, please don’t feel sorry for that sleazebag.’
‘I think you need to give him back. Oh, and Peppy is a boy, by the way,’ I say. Lace lifts the cat, waking him up. His legs stiffen, making him look like a possessed Simba.
‘I knew you were a boy,’ she mutters proudly, and kisses him on his head.
Why couldn’t I have a normal dressmaker, who works in a legit shop and doesn’t steal cats? Woody, that’s why. This is all Woody’s fault.
‘What do you do, Amy Butters?’ Lace asks and gestures to the French daybed once again. I sit down and take a big gulp of red wine.
‘I teach physics.’
‘And him, what does he do?’
‘Geography. At the same school.’
She pulls a face as if she has tasted something disgusting. ‘Do you not get sick of one another?’
‘No. Not really.’
‘Don’t be silly. Of course you do,’ Lace says.
I don’t argue back. I sometimes get sick of Josh at work, but that is only because everything seems too easy for him.
I am tirelessly trying everything to earn an ounce of respect from Dr Therone or to get one of my pupils to smile at me.
Whereas, Josh is loved and respected by everyone just for being himself.
Lace suddenly puts the kidnapped cat on the floor and stands. ‘Sorry, Peppy, I must go somewhere now.’
‘What? Where are you going?’ My head is beginning to hurt.
‘I must take something to someone.’ She picks up a covered red garment hanging on one of the rails.
‘Okay. How about I text you what I want?’ I say. She dashes around me like she is trying to find something. She puts on a brown leather coat with a fur collar. She looks like a rockstar from the 1970s.
‘I was hoping you would accompany me to drop this garment off,’ she says. I frown. What is this woman on?
‘I really would, but I can’t.’ I can see Lace pull a bemused face in the mirror, and it makes me feel extremely lame.
‘Amy.’ She turns around and comes close to me. Suddenly, she slides her fingers between my left hand and stares at my engagement ring with disdain. ‘Is that the engagement ring?’
‘Yes.’
‘Interesting.’ She looks away and continues.
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I believe we’re both on the late side of our twenties, right?
’ I nod. ‘Yes, thought so. I think you owe it to yourself to live a little, don’t you think?
’ She slides her fingers back out, and my hand falls like a dead weight. ‘Coming?’ she asks.
I think of my afternoon ahead. I had planned to do head of department interview prep on the sofa.
Josh said he’ll do some too, but he probably won’t.
He’ll more likely doom scroll fitness Reels on Instagram.
At 16:30, he will make his late afternoon protein shake and sip away at it until dinner time.
I’ll have pasta, he’ll have eggs, we’ll watch some Making a Murderer, and then around 10 we’ll go to bed.
It was different when we weren’t living and working in the same place.
We would dress up nicely, meet in a mid-range restaurant, and have lots to say.
Josh hated the first school he taught in, so he would come equipped with unflattering, but hilarious, impressions of his colleagues.
And as the night went on, we’d get drunker and closer, until we stumbled back to one of our houses.
We would have only been apart two or three days, but I missed him, and it felt like home when I was wrapped up in him again.
We moved in together during the lockdown, and by then Josh had started at Clapham High.
We would spend the weekdays teaching on Zoom in separate rooms. Sometimes, we would sneak a fumble between classes.
On Saturday nights, we would order in from our favourite Thai, light a candle, and dress up like we were at a restaurant.
That stopped after a while, and the sex began to slow down too, which I suppose was bound to happen when you see each other every second of every day.
We’ve now made a habit of ordering from the same Thai restaurant on Saturday nights and watching Netflix.
We talk about trying out a new restaurant, but when it comes to it, we can’t be bothered.
Why put up with the Tubes when you can be cosy on your sofa?
The only difference tonight is that we won’t order in Thai as that will break Josh’s Seven-Week Wedding Body Blitz. God forbid.
I look at Lace, who is halfway out the door.
‘Yeah, I’ll come. Why not?’