Chapter 53
53
The kicker was that back in the day, I’d had my chance with Joey—several chances, in fact. Like Trea’s second birthday party.
Poor Jacqui had put insane amounts of work into the celebration, curating the guest list as if her life depended on it.
The core invitees were eleven kids from Trea’s daycare and, by extension, their rich daddies and yoga-bunny mommies. (Or the nannies if the mommies and daddies were busy.)
A select number of Jacqui’s and Joey’s friends were also in the mix. Jacqui had several impressive, famous mates. Alas, Joey didn’t.
I remember her saying, “Gaz is obviously the worst. But Shake and Johnno are nearly as bad. Why doesn’t Joey have any unembarrassing friends? Apart from Luke, like?”
“…I don’t know, really.”
“ Why is he so loyal to those fools?” She despaired.
That I knew why and Jacqui didn’t made me feel sick. If only he’d tell her.
“It’ll be a great party,” I said. “This is where you shine. Pulling off celebrations which are really fun but always special.”
“Thanks, babe!” She seemed surprised. “It’s been a while since I got praise. I feel like I fail all the time.”
“You’re amazing at everything.”
“Joey doesn’t think so.”
“Never mind him. You’re a queen , you deserve a man who treats you like one.”
“Anyway.” She sighed. “The menu. I’m thinking fennel and orange bites, micro arancini and caponata thimbles on arrival.” The celebration was to be held in a private room in a “neighborhood Sicilian.” But a “neighborhood Sicilian” on the Upper West Side. Which meant we were looking more at palatable luxury than earthy authenticity.
“I’m no expert,” I said, “but are the kids likely to eat fennel and whatnot?”
“Jesus, yes, these ones probably would. Either that or nothing at all, because they’re everything-intolerant. Even so, I’ll have to do a full menu for the bam -fecken- bini . Spelt macaroni with vegan pecorino, base-free pizza with sauce made from tomatoes still on the vine. Ice cream made from sugar-free air.” She paused. “At times like this I wonder if Trea and I should live in Ireland, so her childhood could be half normal.”
“Do you mean that?”
“I dunno, Anna. It might be better for her, easier for me. But she’d be so far from her father, useless fucker though he is.”
“But your parents would be there. Your brothers. They’d all help.”
She trained a cool look on me. “Not sure I could cope with Ireland. It’s somewhat lacking compared to New York. So. Is the Feathery Stroker your plus-one? You soft-launching at the party?”
We could, I guessed. Other than Aidan’s family, only Rachel, Luke and Jacqui knew about Angelo. I didn’t want him to be a secret—but I was grateful it wasn’t out there in the world. No matter how much I got told it was okay to start living again, there were bound to be raised eyebrows and mutterings of That’s a bit soon, poor Aidan’s only dead three years .
Joey added another complication. Our paths hadn’t crossed in several weeks, not since the night he’d tried to kiss me. I’d told nobody about it, not even Rachel. Some sort of protective instinct on my part: Joey would probably have been seen as an opportunist, a chancer always on the lookout for sex. But I felt he’d simply been confused.
Angelo and I linked hands and stepped inside the restaurant. Noisy and crowded, the speed at which the Whispering Angel was being poured down yoga-toned gullets told me that most of the nannies were on their day off.
—
Joey, as one of the hosts, was the first person we met.
“Joey, hey. Hi!” In theory I’d done nothing wrong with him, but guilt swept over me.
“Anna.” His nod was polite. “Torres. Good to see you, man.” He extended his arm to shake hands, then saw that Angelo’s fingers were intertwined with mine. Quickly he looked at my face. He seemed surprised, upset even.
Stealing any response from me, a beguiling young man had descended, plucking Trea’s gift from under my arm. “Let me place this on the gift stand.” Even before he’d ferried away the elaborate, beribboned box to a table bristling with more of the same, Angelo and I were mobbed by a second delightful young man, who charmingly divested us of our jackets, even though my blazer had been part of my look.
By the time the drama settled Joey had gone.
“There’s Rachel,” Angelo said.
Oh, thank God. Rachel and Luke, my safe people. They joined us, along with Gaz who had Trea in his arms. A short while later, Shake and Johnno showed up and the afternoon, though never in danger of being full-blown fun, was fine. Children wailed, moms coaxed, men boomed and boasted, food was ignored. Everyone helped Trea to blow out the candles on a cake which wouldn’t have been out of place at a modest wedding. After this, the departures were speedy.
“That’s it?” Rachel blinked. “All a little abrupt. Okay, see you guys soon.”
“I’ll go get our jackets,” Angelo said. As soon as he was gone, Joey stepped up. “Anna? You and…him? You’re dating?”
I felt accused, judged, on fire with guilt. “Um. Yes.”
“When did it start?”
“Not so long ago…” I trailed off.
“Can anyone apply?” he asked.
“Apply?” I spoke so quietly, I was almost inaudible. Jacqui was only a few yards away, stacking the gifts into piles.
“To date you?”
“Joey, please stop.” I was keeping half an eye on Jacqui, hoping to God she didn’t pick up on the tension.
“What,” he asked, “if I wanted to date you?”
Over at the table, Jacqui’s head shot up. I said, “You don’t want to, Joey.”
“But I do.”
My heart thumping like a jackhammer, I watched Jacqui move closer.
“Joey…” Over his shoulder, I made eye contact with Jacqui.
Flicking a quick glance, Joey saw her, then refocused on me. “I do, Anna.”
As dry as the Sahara, my mouth clicked out the words, “Stop. Please.”
“What’s going on?” Jacqui asked, her voice shrill with alarm.
Ignoring her completely, Joey said, “He’s a lucky man.” For once, there was no hint of sarcasm. His head low, he jostled past Jacqui, muttering, “Excuse me.”
“What the fuck?” Jacqui was all disbelief and confusion. “Anna? Are you and Joey…?”
“Nothing. Nothing is going on.” But that was bullshit. I had to tell her the whole story: there was no way out of this. It would devastate her, I’d get the blame and maybe I deserved it.
“Can we talk?” I asked. “Someplace private?”
“Are you and Joey fucking?” She was wild-eyed with shock.
“No, Jacqui, I swear to you. Nothing like that.” Terrified words tumbled from my parched mouth. “Absolutely nothing like that.”
“Where is he?” She scanned the room. “Joey! Joey!” She went to the door, looking onto the sidewalk.
People seemed to be coming in and leaving at speed. Luke reappeared, carrying Trea. I thought he’d left. “Joey and Jacqui have got into a thing out in the street. Rachel and I are taking Trea back to ours.”
“Should I—?” I didn’t know how much Luke knew. Had Joey said anything?
“Stay out of it,” Luke said. “For now. Let them have their—”
Angelo had returned with our jackets. One glance was enough. “What just happened?”
—
Angelo and I went to his place, where I told him everything—about how I’d once been mad about Joey, about the growing tension with Jacqui and the mortifying attempt at a kiss from Joey.
Being Angelo, he managed to have my back without judging Jacqui or Joey. In his world, there were no goodies or baddies, just imperfect humans who made mistakes.
When I finished the epic tale, he asked, “What do you need?”
“For Jacqui and me to be okay.”
“And with Joey?”
“Nothing. I’d be happy if I never saw him again.”
The look on Angelo’s face told me it wouldn’t be that simple. “But you are gonna see him, and, Anna, I can’t be part of this drama.”
“What do you mean?” Was he breaking up with me?
“You’re attracted to Joey—”
“Not that way!” I was in a panic. Was everything good about to fall apart today?
“You have to be sure,” he said. “Take time to think about it. Be honest. Ask yourself if it’s loyalty to Jacqui that’s holding you back.”
“It’s not .”
“How can you know when you’ve been too scared to ask yourself the question?”
“Angelo, are you…are we, like, done ?”
“I don’t know.” He wasn’t being mean; he genuinely didn’t know. “But you’re freaking out so much about Jacqui, you’ve got no space to consider if you want something with Joey. You need to go there. Ask those hard questions.”
I stared at him, feeling terrified.
“If Joey is the one you want,” he said. “You have to go for it.”
Not long afterwards, Jacqui phoned me. “Get over here,” she ordered.
My heart pounding, I left Angelo’s and caught a cab. Arriving at Jacqui’s block, Joey was waiting at the building entrance.
He stepped out to meet me. Rapidly, he said, “I told her I tried to kiss you. That you stopped me.”
“And?”
“She asked if I wanted more. With you.”
Oh no .
“And I said yes.” His voice shook. “Because why would I lie?”
“You could have lied, Joey!”
“I don’t lie.”
“Joey, I love Jacqui as much as I loved Aidan.” I was so distraught I felt sick. “Did you tell her about what happened when you were a kid?”
“No.”
“She needs to know. I can’t know while she doesn’t.”
—
“He kissed you and you didn’t tell me!” Jacqui was so angry and I was so scared.
“Because it would upset you. And it has.”
“Do you fancy him? You fucking do!”
“He’s sexy. That’s a fact, I guess. But even if I wasn’t your best friend, I wouldn’t go near him. He’s not able for—”
“You’re not my friend. A friend would have told me. No fucking wonder you warned me off him, Anna. You wanted him for yourself.”
“I really, honestly didn’t.” I felt as if I was fighting for my life.
“You want me to move back to Ireland.”
“But only”—I spluttered—“only to make your life less stressful. Jacqui, there’s something you should know.”
The blood drained from her face. “What?”
“No. Nothing like that. But when he was a kid, aged ten to thirteen, his dad and big brother used him—”
“He confided in you!” Her face was stricken. “Used him for what?”
“To break into houses.”
“And?” She was nonplussed. “I thought you were going to say he was abused.”
“He was abused, Jacqui.”
“I meant sexual abuse.”
“But…there are other kinds of abuse. When he got too big, at thirteen, they just abandoned him. It must have had an effect on him. He’s so…afraid to trust.”
“Why did he tell you and not me?”
“Because, just, circumstances. Remember he came to check security on my new apartment? It came up then.”
“Sounds more like something he invented on the spot so you’d feel sorry for him.”
“…Luke said it’s true.”
In a small voice, Jacqui said, “You knew and I didn’t.”
I wanted to die.
“He’s got a thing for you.” Her voice was too loud. “You’ll see. He’ll make his moves and you’ll let him because he is un-fucking-resistible and—”
“No, Jacqui, no . I’d never do that to you and anyway I’m with Angelo.”
“Wow, Anna. Beating them off with sticks.”
“I’m not. He’s the first man in three years. Since Aidan.”
“Oh, here we go. You lost your husband. We know.”
Suddenly I felt small and scared. Had I gone on about it too much? Hogged the sympathy? Been a bad friend?
“I was there for you a million percent after he passed.”
I wished she hadn’t said passed . She knew it drove me mad. “Passed” sounded peaceful but Aidan’s death had been an ugly, violent event.
But getting angry now would be dangerous. “You were and I’m so grateful, Jacqui. I’d have given up and died myself if it hadn’t been for you.”
“You’re not getting it! I’m saying you’re not the only person who lost the love of their life.”
I couldn’t help it: my frustration spilled over. “If Joey Armstrong is the love of your life, it doesn’t say much for your life.”
Unable to believe what I’d just said, I closed down with shock.
“Fuck you, Anna,” Jacqui said. “Fuck you.”
It was cold and calm and a long time coming.
Through countless small missteps, Jacqui and I had arrived here, a place where we were no longer friends.
All those unuttered grievances, festering resentments and swallowed irritations had been pushed down and down. But what goes down must come up. And up it had all come.
This was a dirty little secret which was rarely spoken about: intense friendships end.
For as long as I could remember, I’d been told that men will come and men will go but your girlfriends will be there forever. It took me several more years before I understood that the bond with your best friend is like every other relationship—sometimes it goes weird and you can’t stop it.
“Give me back my keys,” she said.
As I handed them over, I was stupid enough to think that there was still hope.
I did what Angelo suggested and tried being honest with myself. What I learned was a shocker: if Joey had never been with Jacqui I’d have kissed him back, that night in Jacqui’s apartment.
—
Unwrapping my memories of that almost-kiss revealed a cache of emotions I’d been in deep denial of. Remembering the touch of his mouth on my skin, as he kissed away my tears, made me light-headed and full of longing. I’d wanted him so badly I’d ached. But the wrongness of the situation had numbed me to the responses of my traitorous body.
Interred with this was an idealized version of Joey, a man who could be relied on to be faithful and endlessly loving. Fantasy Joey was mad about me—he and I could definitely go the distance. Only one thing needed to change: Joey would be an entirely different person.
As it was, by telling me about his childhood, he’d made me feel special. The only woman he trusted? Of course it had gone to my head.
A hard reality check was needed.
The healthy part of me wanted Angelo, who was kind, calm, a grown-up; my shadow self was drawn to Joey. But if anything ever began, as soon as I’d fallen for Joey his interest would die a sudden death. He couldn’t help despising the women who loved him. Until he found a way to fix himself he’d always be that man.
If I’d been feeling self-destructive, I might have picked up the phone, invited him to my apartment, lit candles, put on beautiful underwear just so he could take it off me…And how long before I ended up in exactly the same condition as Jacqui? Suspicious, jealous and maddened with longing for his attention, his time, his want.
The huge complication was that I actually cared about him—and that meant staying out of his life. Hard to know how to manage it while being so close to Jacqui, but we’d have to figure something out.
The only thing was, Jacqui wouldn’t speak to me. Four days after Trea’s party she blocked my number, my email, everything. In desperation I went to her apartment block and stood in the street, pressing her buzzer over and over, praying she’d relent. I showed up at the hotel where she worked and as soon as I’d said my name, two security guards materialized—they’d clearly been warned in advance, which was deeply humiliating—and escorted me to the exit.
I called all our mutual friends and not one would get involved. In the end I had to ring Joey.
—
We met in the park, where we sat at opposite ends of a bench.
“This Angelo guy?” Joey asked. “Is he good to you?”
“He’s lovely.”
“Anna, I’d be lovely to you too. I know my reputation—it’s deserved. But I’d be different with you.”
“You just think that. You might for a while and then you’d get bored and—”
“No. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. Please , Anna. Don’t freak out but I’m in lo—”
“Joey, stop .” I leant right into his space. “You don’t get it. I need Jacqui to forgive me. It’s literally all I want. Even sitting here with you I’m so scared that someone will see us and report back. Why did you have to tell her? By ‘being honest’ you destroyed the most important relationship I have.”
That familiar confusion was in his eyes. “But, Anna, there’s something special between us—”
“You only want me because I’m off limits—because I’m Jacqui’s friend. You’ve got this crazy idea that you and me could…I don’t know…try being a couple? But if you truly cared, you’d never have damaged me in Jacqui’s eyes. You’d have kept your mouth shut and sucked it up.”
“S-sorry.”
My voice shook with emotion. “Being an adult means you swallow back something you’re dying to say because it’ll upset someone else. You don’t ride into a situation thinking you’re a hero when no one asks for it. Especially when the only outcome you care about is your own.”
His skin was waxy from my onslaught. “God, Anna, I hadn’t realized. Fuck, I was so selfish.” He was tripping over his words. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. How can I make it right?”
“Talk to Jacqui. Please. She won’t speak to me. Please, Joey, tell her it was nothing.”
“I already did but I’ll do it again, I’ll do everything possible to make this right. Anna, I’m so sorry.”
But whatever he said to Jacqui didn’t work: my number stayed blocked. Unable to sleep properly or eat or do my job, I lurked outside her apartment one morning, hoping that a face-to-face meeting would change her mind.
When she emerged, with Trea in her buggy, and saw me, her face flashed with hate. Pushing the buggy, she belted up the street, putting distance between us.
“Jacqui, please!” I ran after her.
She whirled around. “Anna. I do not want to see you ever again for as long as I live. Stay away from me.”
Distraught, I went to Rachel; her advice was to give Jacqui space. “No contact for six months.”
“That’s far too long.”
“It needs to be several months. Whenever you show up now, you’re wounding her again. It’s keeping her pain fresh. Let her process this. It’ll give you time to do the same.”
I didn’t need to process anything; I just wanted her to love me again.
“My” butterfly showed up, fluttering around like a worried friend, reminding me that I’d already survived a terrible loss.
Helen had a theory about emotional pain: what doesn’t kill us makes us weaker. I didn’t agree. I didn’t think it necessarily made us stronger, but it had taught me how to survive. It wasn’t easy, but it was doable.
But I dreamed about Jacqui, the way I dreamed about Aidan. It was a strange time because on the one hand I missed Jacqui all day every day, but on the other I’d fallen in love with Angelo. Both states—love and its absence—occupied me in equal and opposite ways. I was devastated and loved-up and joyous and heartsick.
Bits and pieces of information about her filtered back through mutual friends. But big news arrived five months into my six-month purdah: Jacqui and Trea were leaving to live in Ireland.
In one way Rachel had been right. Time apart from Jacqui had given me perspective: I knew I couldn’t stop this. Admittedly, on the morning of their departure, a surge of adrenaline made me want to run through the streets and beg them to stay. But life wasn’t a romcom, so I went to work, much shakier than usual, and got through the day.
Meanwhile, I’d been avoiding all events where Joey might appear, mostly in the hope that word would get back to Jacqui. Surely then she’d believe I had no interest in him?
It was months before he and I came face to face again, at a funeral, one we were both obliged to attend: Rachel and Luke’s baby had died at thirty-seven weeks. Shell-shocked, Joey and I nodded at each other, exchanged helpless remarks about the appalling tragedy, then moved on.
Afterwards, my resolve to avoid him crumbled. What difference did it make? Jacqui was living a new life, thousands of miles away, what did she care?
As for Joey, I’d always been more exasperated than angry. There hadn’t been a cold-blooded master plan to break up me and Jacqui. That was just an accidental side effect of being too self-absorbed to think beyond what he’d wanted.
And credit where it was due: he’d gone out there, defending my name and blackening his own. Mutual friends of Jacqui and mine welcomed me back into the fold. Jacqui was the only holdout.
I began showing up at nights out I’d previously avoided. Not often, maybe every couple of months. Joey and I were polite but distant. I never asked about Jacqui and he never offered any information. We both behaved as if all that bad stuff just hadn’t happened.