Chapter Twenty-Two #2
I always regretted standing up to Lizzie in that bathroom.
I always thought it triggered her and her friends to really turn on me and Roo.
I blamed myself for it. I blamed myself for a lot of things.
But now I realise those few moments were the only time I ever acted like my real self with Lizzie and her mates.
I spent the rest of my school days squashing myself down, trying not to attract their attention.
Making myself as small as they made me feel.
Being a spiky, curled-up little hedgehog.
But I’m my real self now.
And yes, I still worry what people think of me.
I’ve been afraid, over the last three weeks, of being weird with Simon and Nora and even my old friends.
But that, I realise, is because I like them.
That’s why I want them to like me. I do not give a shit if arseholes like Lizzie Lattin like me.
I genuinely don’t care what Lizzie Lattin thinks of me at all.
She’s not in my head anymore.
So I look at her and say, ‘I was stuck with you in school but I’m not stuck with you now.’ I turn to Art. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ says Art. He takes my hand.
And without another word, we turn away from Lizzie Lattin and stroll off down the path.
I wish I could say I laugh triumphantly as I walk away but I actually feel a bit weird and wobbly. We walk for a minute in silence. I let go of Art’s hand.
‘What did she do?’ There’s a gentleness in Art’s voice I’ve never heard before. ‘When you were in school? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Ignored me and Roo, mostly,’ I say. ‘Everyone ignored us. Which wasn’t great but, you know.’
‘All the way through school?’ says Art.
‘Yeah. Kind of.’ I don’t look at him as I kick a pebble along the path.
‘They just … shut us out of everything. And then one day I heard Lizzie saying horrible things about Roo and I tried to be heroic and stand up to her and … it really didn’t work.
It made things worse. After that they started taking the piss.
Making jokes about … about stuff we were into. And, like, our clothes—’
‘Your clothes?’ says Art sharply. ‘They took the piss out of your clothes?’
‘Well, yeah,’ I say.
‘Shit, Annie, if I’d known that I would never …
’ Art sounds genuinely perturbed. ‘I’m sorry, I thought you and me joking about clothes was just, I don’t know, our work vibe.
But if it reminded you of those girls in school …
Fuck. I’m really sorry. If I’d thought for a second it might actually upset you … ’
‘It doesn’t upset me.’ I mean it. ‘And it never reminds me of school. Seriously, Art, it’s fine.
They were doing it to be mean. I know you aren’t.
’ Why am I telling him all this? I don’t want him to know how pathetic I was at school.
I start to backtrack a bit. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t like Roo and I were seriously bullied.
I mean, it was never physical. Or even psychological, the way you hear about kids being tormented online these days.
At least we didn’t have smartphones.’ I feel sick at the thought of what that would have been like.
Art stares at me. ‘McDermott, those little shits isolated you for years, just because they could. Of course that’s bullying.’
‘You don’t know what it was like,’ I say. ‘Your schooldays weren’t anything like that.’
‘No, they weren’t,’ says Art. ‘Which is why I’m so impressed.’
I stop in the middle of the path and fix him with a look. ‘Impressed? Come on, Art.’
‘You survived Lizzie Lattin and her crew and you stayed fierce,’ says Art. ‘You can be pretty scary, you know that? You didn’t let them break you.’
I let out a snort of bitter laughter. ‘Didn’t I?’
‘Are you kidding?’ says Art. ‘You’re a lot tougher than me, McDermott. You’re hard as nails.’
Oh my God, he couldn’t be more wrong.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Art.’ I’m not in the mood to be patronised by him. Not today. Not after what he just said to Lizzie. I don’t … I don’t want him to spoil that.
‘You told me the other day that you worry about everything all the time,’ says Art.
‘But it doesn’t stop you getting stuff done.
And that shows how brave you are. Do you remember that first tone meeting with Bernard?
When he asked if I’d been cleaning toilets in LA?
After that meeting I got back to the office and if you hadn’t come in when you did I’d have just crawled under the desk and …
I don’t know. Cried, probably. The fact that you didn’t run screaming from Northside on the first day proves you don’t let yourself get intimidated by anything. ’
‘I don’t feel like that,’ I say. ‘Ever.’
‘Yeah, well, neither do I, a lot of the time,’ says Art. ‘Fake it till you make it. That’s showbiz, McDermott.’
When we get back to my house I put the kettle on while Art sits on the couch and looks through what we did this morning. I’ve just handed him his coffee when my phone rings.
I glance at it. ‘Sorry, it’s my sister, I’d better get this.’
‘Hey!’ says Laura. ‘I know you’re up to your eyes in work but I wanted to check if you’re still on for dinner later. And I didn’t trust you to actually see my messages so I thought I’d ring. Does around eight suit?’
I’d forgotten I was meant to be going to Laura’s tonight.
But actually, our official scripts are done and I’m already so tired I doubt I’ll be able to work this evening.
The prospect of just chilling in Laura and Tadhg’s lovely kitchen for a couple of hours sounds pretty good.
Also Tadhg has got really into cooking since he stopped touring all the time so it’ll be the best meal I’ve had all week.
‘Hmmm …’ I say. ‘Yeah, eight is fine.’
‘Are you okay? You sound a bit weird.’
‘I’m actually with my colleague Art,’ I say. ‘We share an office at Northside,’ I add, so he doesn’t suspect I’ve already told her anything about him.
‘Oh!’ says Laura. ‘Your officemate? Bring him along too.’
‘I dunno …’ Then I realise Art probably heard Laura’s invite –she does have quite a loud voice for someone so short – and I say, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Ask him now!’
Tadhg and Laura don’t usually invite total strangers round to their house so I know exactly why she’s asking Art to dinner. But of course, I can’t make a big deal out of this in front of him. Anyway, he’ll probably say no. Why would he want to have dinner with my sister and brother-in-law?
So I turn to him and say, ‘Do you want to come to my sister’s house for dinner?’
‘Tell him it’s only down the road!’ says Laura, so loudly Art can definitely hear her.
‘It’s only down the road,’ I repeat dutifully.
‘Sure,’ says Art cheerfully. ‘Sounds good.’
‘He’s coming,’ I say.
‘Excellent! See you at eight. And bring some posh crisps.’
‘Okay. Get your servants to set another place at the table for Art,’ I say. ‘In your dining wing.’
Laura laughs. ‘Oh, shut up. I’ll see you later. In my kitchen.’ She hangs up.
‘Does your sister actually have servants?’ says Art. ‘Or, like, staff?’
‘Of course she doesn’t!’ Then something hits me. ‘Well, they have a cleaner. And actually they have an assistant for work stuff. Shit, I suppose they do have staff.’
‘Seriously, though,’ he says, ‘are you sure you don’t mind me tagging along to your family thing? I don’t have to come if it’ll be weird for you.’
I do want him to tag along to this dinner. I’d like to just … hang out with him. Without any work stuff. Or, well, sex stuff.
‘I don’t mind,’ I say.
The evening sun is golden when Art and I arrive at Laura and Tadhg’s house in Marino Crescent.
We actually got some decent work done this afternoon, but we’ve definitely hit our limit for the day, so I don’t feel bad about taking the night off.
I hit the button beside the massive wooden gates and a moment later the buzzer sounds and the smaller pedestrian gate clicks open.
‘Wow,’ says Art as we walk up the gravel drive. ‘Nice house.’
The front door opens and there’s Laura, a summery retro vision in a belted eighties floral dress, holding a glass of wine. ‘Hello! You must be Art. I’m Laura.’
‘Great to meet you,’ says Art. He holds up a bag. ‘We brought posh crisps.’
‘I love you already,’ says Laura.
When we go into the spacious kitchen, Tadhg is putting something into the oven that smells extraordinary.
I get on very well with my brother-in-law these days, though it took me a while.
I was a bit suspicious of him when he and Laura got together after not talking to each other for years.
But I can’t deny how sound he is or how happy they make each other. He’s like family now.
‘Nice oven gloves,’ I say. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a coconut and lime potato gratin,’ says Tadhg.
‘We’re going to eat it with some spicy roast chicken.
If I haven’t dried out the chicken.’ He takes a cast-iron casserole out of the kitchen’s lower oven and sets it on a trivet on the marble counter.
Then he raises an oven-gloved hand and grins at Art.
‘Hey. I’m Tadhg. Sorry, I’ve got to baste this chicken.
I just realised I forgot to set the timer so it’s been in too long. ’
Art laughs. ‘I’m Art. And no apologies necessary. That smells incredible.’
‘There’s wine open on the table,’ says Tadhg as he returns to the chicken, ‘and beer in the fridge if you fancy one.’
‘A beer sounds great,’ says Art. ‘Thanks a million.’ He turns to me. ‘Do you want one, Annie?’
‘Yeah, please.’
While Art rummages around in the fridge for some cans of IPA, Laura points at him and mouths the words ‘Not bad!’ at me. I mouth the words ‘Stop that!’ back at her just before Art turns around, bearing the cans.
‘So,’ says Laura, ‘I hear Northside’s turning out to be a bit of a nightmare.’
Art laughs. ‘You could say that. But’ – he smiles at me – ‘I think Annie and I have it under control. Just about.’
‘Only just about,’ I say.