Chapter Eighteen
Freya
Our first summer party was ten years ago, and it had started off small, and gradually over the years it had grown and become one of the most important dates in our calendar. We always held it at the end of June, as a way of marking the beginning of summer. Obviously this year was going to be a little bit different, but I was still excited about it. We had invited everyone important in our lives so the guest list was Mum, Marmalade, Lucy, Stuart, Barney plus one if he had a plus-one, Joe’s dad and his new girlfriend, Juliette, and lastly Dolly’s friend, Maya. I had thought about inviting the rest of Cold Water Club, and I had invited people from work in the past and Joe had invited Carl and other comedy friends, but we wanted to keep the numbers down this year. We thought smaller and more intimate was the way to go, considering everything that had happened.
‘Have you seen the bottle opener?’ I said to Joe, who was in the kitchen creating a charcuterie board of various cheeses, meats, olives, pickles and crackers.
‘Should be in the usual spot.’
‘Obviously it isn’t in the usual spot, Joe, because I looked in the usual spot and it wasn’t there. Hence why I am asking you where it is because you probably moved it.’
‘I haven’t touched it.’
‘You definitely haven’t touched it?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘Okaaay,’ I said, knowing full well that he had definitely moved it. When it came to putting things in the wrong place, Joe had a lengthy rap sheet.
‘Need any help?’ said Dolly, suddenly appearing in the kitchen.
‘Oh, you look nice, love,’ I said, and she really did. She was in a long flowery dress with white trainers, she had curled her hair, done her make-up, and she looked beautiful.
‘Thanks,’ said Dolly.
‘You can help me find the bottle opener that your dad definitely hasn’t touched, even though we all know he moved it and just can’t remember—’
‘Actually, I used that,’ said Dolly. ‘Sorry, it’s in my room. I’ll get it.’
I immediately looked across at Joe, who gave me a smug, annoying smile.
‘Shut it,’ I said, before I went outside into the garden.
I had set up tables, and despite the forecast saying it wasn’t going to rain, the clouds overhead were ominously dark. Obviously we could move indoors if we had to, but it was best to have it outside if possible, and some of our best summer parties had been held late into the night in the garden. Joe had started the barbecue in preparation, and was planning on cooking burgers, sausages and chicken outside. Dolly found the bottle opener, and she helped me get the garden ready and open a few bottles of wine in preparation. I was slightly nervous about how this year’s party was going to go, but things with Joe had been really good recently, and even his father had agreed to come down from Colchester with his new girlfriend. For the record, in ten years of summer parties, he had been to just one summer party. Dolly was excited because Maya was coming, although I had sensed a nervous energy about her for the last few weeks. Perhaps she was tired from all the studying she had been doing or maybe it was anxiety about her upcoming exams. Life was suddenly hurtling towards us all at breakneck speed, and there was no doubt it was fucking terrifying.
‘You okay, love?’ I said to her, as we put some extra cans of drink into the cool box.
‘Yeah,’ Dolly replied. ‘It’s going to be okay, right?’
‘What do you mean? Is what going to be okay?’
‘You and Dad? It’s not going to be weird, is it?’
I looked at Dolly, saw the look of concern on her face, and it made me so sad that she was worried about us.
‘It will be fine, love. Promise,’ I said with a smile, and I meant it. ‘Now, can you be in charge of music? Although nothing too, you know, out there. Remember most of us are middle-aged or older.’
‘What the hell is “out there”? I’m hardly into anything weird. Have you seen my Spotify playlists?’
‘Just keep it mainstream,’ I said, and Dolly gave me a sarcastic look before I heard the doorbell go, and it seemed our first guests had arrived.
The party was in full swing, and fortunately the weather, although still gloomy, had remained dry, and after serving all the starters Joe was now stationed at the barbecue in his ‘The Grillfather’ apron – a birthday present from Dolly and me for his fortieth. Dolly had been doing a great job with the music, and was currently playing ABBA, and everyone was in the garden, drinking, talking, and so far our annual summer party was going perfectly.
‘Do you know where Joe got the sausages?’ said Marmalade, while Mum stood next to him, sipping on a glass of wine.
‘Umm, not sure,’ I replied. ‘Waitrose, maybe?’
‘I shall have to find out. They’re delicious. Have you tried them yet, Freya?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Oh, you should. They’re so perfectly seasoned, and juicy, I imagine the meat ratio is probably quite high, although they’re soft—’
‘Okay, Martin, that’s enough sausage talk,’ said Mum. ‘I see Joe’s dad is here this year, darling. That’s a real turn-up for the books, and is that the new French girlfriend?’
‘ Oui ,’ I said, looking across at Joe’s dad and Juliette. She was lovely, had beautiful dark hair and spoke with a gloriously French/English accent. I had only said a brief hello to her, but she gave his father a proper glow. I didn’t think in all the years I had known Joe’s father I had seen him looking so happy and relaxed. It was clear he was genuinely in love. It was a shame that when he was finally happy, and perhaps with the chance of being more involved in Joe’s life, he was moving to the south of France.
‘She definitely has a little je ne sais quoi , doesn’t she?’ said Mum, as Lucy came bounding across, a glass of wine in one hand and a hot dog in the other.
‘Lucy, hi, how’s it going?’ I said. ‘You remember Mum.’
‘Of course, hi,’ said Lucy.
‘Hello, again,’ said Mum. ‘It’s been, what, exactly a year since the last party?’
‘That’s right,’ said Lucy with a smile.
‘How’s the sausage?’ chipped in Marmalade, getting a stern look from Mum.
‘I’ve come to steal Freya away for a minute,’ said Lucy. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Not at all,’ said Mum, and Lucy and I started walking away, although before we were out of earshot, I heard Mum chiding Marmalade about the bloody bangers. We walked past Joe on the barbecue, and he was talking with Barney and Stuart, looking relaxed and happy in his favourite spot, a bottle of beer in his hand. Lucy and I walked inside and took a seat at the dining room table. I had no idea where Dolly was. The music was still playing, and it had moved on to Olly Murs, so she was definitely keeping it mainstream.
‘How’s it going?’ I said to Lucy when we had sat down.
‘Good. I just wanted to have a quick word,’ she said, a note of trepidation in her voice.
‘What’s going on?’
‘What do you mean?’ She met my gaze with a look of apprehension.
‘Come on, Luce. It’s obvious something is going on with you.’
Lucy looked at me, frowned, looked unsure, and then she said, ‘Well, you know I said that Stuart is going to start his own language school?’
I nodded.
‘Well, it looks like it’s going to be next year, and we’ll be moving, too.’
‘Oh, right, shit,’ I said, feeling a sudden flash of disappointment rush through me.
‘It’s a huge endeavour, and we’ll be risking a lot financially to make it happen, but he really wants to do it and I want to support him. I know it’s probably a shit time to be leaving you, and—’
‘Luce, it’s okay. I mean I hate it, obviously, and I’ll never speak to Stuart again, but I understand,’ I said, trying not to sound as devastated as I felt inside. ‘It definitely won’t be in Brighton then?’
‘We’re talking about the possibility of the Midlands. With house prices so high in Brighton, we could sell up here, put some of that money into the business, and Stuart has plenty of contacts near Leicester and at a few of the larger boarding schools in that area. We could buy a house there for almost half of what we’d get for ours in Brighton.’
‘But the Midlands,’ I said. ‘It’s so far away, and what about Cold Water Club?’
‘It will go on without me.’
I looked at Lucy, reached across and held her hand, and I wanted to cry. ‘Whatever happens, I’ll miss you terribly,’ I said.
‘Me, too. Although it won’t be until the beginning of next year at the earliest, so we have time. Plenty more Cold Water Club!’
‘Then we’d better enjoy ourselves while we can!’ I said.
I would miss Lucy so much. She was my person at work, and now we had Cold Water Club too, and post-Joe she was going to be one of the tent poles of my new life. If she left for the Midlands, I knew I would find it hard without her, but I wanted her to be happy and I would be excited for her and Stuart to start a new adventure together. It also, and rather sadly from my perspective, made me feel a little jealous that Lucy and Stuart were obviously still so in love, while Joe and I were getting nearer and nearer to the day when we might separate for good. I remembered so clearly when we all met, and it felt like the four of us would be best mates forever, but now with Joe and me breaking up and Lucy and Stuart moving, all those dreams of the four of us growing old together in Brighton were nothing more than that. It was how I imagined Paul McCartney felt when Yoko Ono arrived on the scene.
Lucy and I finished up with hugs, and I said I needed to pop upstairs because all I really wanted to do was cry. I needed a moment to compose myself before I rejoined the party.
I left Lucy and went up to my bedroom. As I walked past Dolly’s bedroom, I heard her talking and giggling with Maya, and then I went into my bedroom and closed the door, before I went into the en suite. I sat on the toilet for a moment, trying to get myself together. My life over the past year had been all ups and downs, and all I craved was some normality. Lucy had said that they weren’t moving for a while, but I couldn’t imagine my day-to-day life without her, in the same way I couldn’t imagine the house without Dolly in it, or my life without Joe. All of these things were changing, and it felt like I had no control over any of them. At least things with Joe seemed to be going well, and there was a small part of me that was beginning to wonder if we did still have a chance.
While I was on the toilet, I heard the bedroom door open and then two voices. It was Joe and his father. What were they doing up here in the middle of the party?
‘We should be okay here,’ said Joe.
‘I just wanted a quick word,’ said his father.
They obviously had no idea I was on the toilet, and it felt weird just walking out, so I had no choice but to stay where I was and listen.
‘What’s going on?’ said Joe.
I heard them sitting down on the bed. A pause.
‘I, umm, just wanted to say,’ said Joe’s dad. ‘That I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry? For what?’
‘For everything. For being so distant when you were growing up. For not talking to you about anything, and mostly, I think, being so distant since your mum passed. Being with Juliette has really made me appreciate just how bad I was as a dad. I didn’t always know it, didn’t always want to think about it, but, and this is weird to tell you now, but the thing is, Juliette got me to see a therapist.’
‘Yeah?’ said Joe. ‘That’s great.’
‘Yeah, yeah it is. I had lots of issues, Joe, more than I ever cared to admit, and I think for years I just didn’t know how to deal with it all. Things with your mum. You. Me. Anyway, Juliette is a big advocate for therapy, she’s been going for years, and it’s really helped me see myself and the world in a completely new light.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Joe’s dad truly was a different man. The person I had known all these years was hard-headed, stubborn and terrifyingly old-fashioned. He said so little about his own feelings, I often wondered whether he even had any. Now he was dating a French lady and talking openly about his feelings and failures. Perhaps there was hope for Joe, too.
‘Right, wow, that’s great, Dad. I’m really happy for you, and thanks, it means a lot. You know, it wasn’t just you though, right? I wasn’t good about dealing with things, and Mum just let things fester and get worse without saying anything. We all played our part.’
‘I just… a part of therapy was dealing with my relationship with you, and I wanted to acknowledge that, and say I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t love you because despite everything, I always did. I obviously didn’t always know how to show it or say it, but I did love you. Still love you. That’s what I wanted to say, son.’
There was a pause, a quietness, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Joe was going to cry. Joe didn’t really cry, wasn’t prone to moments of emotional fragility, but such a confession from his father had to have made him feel something. It was perhaps the first time I had heard Joe’s father call him son. He always referred to him as Joe like they were friends or, more likely, work colleagues. Then, after a minute, Joe spoke, his voice catching in his throat.
‘There’s something I have to tell you, too, Dad. It’s Freya and me, we’ve separated.’
‘Oh, right,’ said his dad. ‘Why? What happened? I always thought you two were great.’
It felt wrong to be listening in on their conversation, but I couldn’t exactly walk out in the middle of it now, could I?
‘We were, Dad, for so long we were, but the last year and a half, it’s been, I don’t know. I think with my career not going so well, it put a lot of pressure on us, and like you, I didn’t always handle things well or know what to say,’ said Joe, and it felt strange hearing him talk about us, and admitting his faults. There was a short pause, and then Joe said, ‘Actually, Dad, and no one else knows about this so please keep it quiet, but I’ve been seeing a therapist too for about the last six months.’
There was a sudden quietness in the room, but in my ears I heard a roar as blood rushed through my head, as my whole body was suddenly overtaken with emotion – and that emotion was fucking rage. Joe had been seeing a therapist! The man I had begged to see a marriage counsellor to save our marriage, who had declined and called it pointless, was seeing his own therapist in secret. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t control myself and I immediately walked out, crashing the door of the en suite against the wall, and I stormed into my bedroom. Joe instantly saw me, knew what I had heard, and saw the look on my face. He jumped up.
‘Freya, I—’
‘Just shut the fuck up!’ I said loudly, feeling tears begin to bubble up and into my eyes. ‘I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you lied to me about this, after I fucking begged you to see a therapist with me. I’m so angry with you, Joe.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Joe, but I couldn’t be in that room with him. I couldn’t stand to even be in the same fucking house as him, and so I dashed out with no idea what I was going to do next.