Chapter 39
Nightshades was the kind of club SJ wouldn’t have ventured into in the past unless she’d been extremely drunk.
It was dimly lit, smelt of spilt beer and sweat, and had an air of relaxed seediness.
Across the small stage at one end of the room, the word NIGHTSHADES was spelled out in pink and purple bulbs.
SJ wondered why they’d left off the DEADLY.
A couple of ancient paper chains and some threadbare silver tinsel draped over the stage were the club’s only concession to Christmas.
She glanced around. They were early and the place wasn’t as full as it would be later.
A guy wearing a cowboy hat and a waistcoat lined with silver bullets sat at the nearest table, supping a pint.
His face was a mass of piercings. He had three studs in his nose, a couple of rings in each eyebrow and another row in his upper lip.
SJ wondered how he got on at airport security.
At the bar a couple of transvestites, one brunette, one blonde, perched elegantly on stools. Both wore miniskirts and fishnet stockings and had scarlet nails. They were almost a cliché, SJ thought happily. They made Michael, who was sitting opposite her, look like a class act.
He looked comfortable dressed as Lizzie.
The silver pencil skirt and black sequinned top suited him.
His highlighted wig curled softly around his face.
Blusher accentuated his high cheekbones and his eye make-up was far better applied than SJ’s ever was.
She was almost envious. Catching her gaze, he winked at her.
‘You enjoying yourself, sweetheart?’
She nodded. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but yes, I’m having a great time. I’m looking forward to the main act. What’s her name again?’
‘Sybil Starlight.’ Tanya, who was beside her, grinned and leaned across to squeeze her fingers. ‘Are you really okay? You’re not finding it too tricky being surrounded by people drinking?’
‘It’s okay at the moment.’ SJ glanced at Tanya’s glass of orange juice and wondered if it was a concession to her.
‘If I get tempted to down Michael’s wine, I’ll nip outside and grab myself a lungful of traffic fumes, don’t worry.’
‘I’m really proud of you,’ Tanya said, her green eyes soft, and SJ swallowed.
She was proud of herself, too. A whole fifteen months without a drink.
A whole fifteen months during which she’d survived the end of a marriage and managed to move her relationship with her family, even Alison, on to a much more satisfying level.
Well, Alison wasn’t actually talking to her at the moment – they’d had a fight over a pair of Calvin Klein jeans that had been reduced to ￡10 in TK Maxx.
But SJ had seen them first by a whisker – and she was more broke than Alison.
And it was hardly her fault if Alison wanted to sulk for a fortnight.
At least she was getting on well with Noah and Sophie, who seemed to like having a dire warning for an aunt.
SJ felt strong. She no longer feared what the future would bring. She no longer wanted to blank out difficult feelings. She was comfortable in her own skin. Like Michael, she thought, shooting him a glance. They had both grown into their new identities.
‘I’m proud of you, too,’ she told Tanya. ‘It hasn’t been an easy eighteen months, has it? When did you change your mind about coming to places like this?’
‘Very recently.’ Tanya raised her eyebrows.
‘I feel a lot more secure than I used to – I know we’re going to be okay.
’ She gestured around them. A few more men had drifted in – the dress code ranged from ripped jeans normality to pink lace and feather boa outrageousness.
SJ saw one guy who was dressed completely in black leather, but wore the most beautiful pair of jewelled stilettos she had ever seen.
‘This is less serious than going round someone’s house – everyone goes a bit mad at Christmas, don’t they?’ Tanya’s eyes sparkled. ‘Oh, God, I can’t possibly keep this to myself any more. We haven’t told a soul yet, SJ, because it’s very early days, but I’m pregnant again.’
‘Oh, Tanya, that’s fantastic news.’ They leaped to their feet and hugged. ‘You must be over the moon.’
‘We are. I thought it would never happen again. After Maddie, after all those miscarriages, all those tests.’
SJ could feel Tanya trembling a little in her arms. ‘It’s the best news I’ve heard in months. I won’t tell a soul.’
‘I know you won’t.’
SJ blinked rapidly. Over Tanya’s shoulder, she saw Michael cotton on to their conversation and raise his glass in their direction.
‘I know we’re a bit unconventional – as parents go.
’ There was nervous laughter in Tanya’s voice, and SJ knew she had her fears for the future – her doubts and her insecurities.
‘But I also know we’ll get through. We love each other.
We can get through anything.’ She took a sip of her orange as they sat back in their seats.
‘I’m just sorry you didn’t have the same support from Tom. ’
‘It was different for us. I didn’t love Tom in the first place. I hadn’t got over Jacob. I couldn’t love anybody. Not even myself. And once he knew how I felt, what would have been the point in staying with me?’
‘But he walked away at the first sign of a problem, SJ. If you hadn’t been an alcoholic he might have stayed.’
SJ shook her head, even though she knew she would never talk Tanya round on this one. Rather ironically, considering all that had happened, Tanya was a conventionalist when it came to marriage.
‘I’m glad I’m an alcoholic,’ she said truthfully. ‘Well, a recovering one anyway. I know myself better because of it. I know who I am and what I want.’
‘Talking of what you want,’ Tanya muttered, raising her eyebrows, ‘how’s that gorgeous man of yours?’
SJ smiled. ‘He’s not mine,’ she said, feeling suddenly shy.
‘But you are still bringing him round for dinner on Boxing Day?’ Tanya pressed, her eyes sparkling.
‘Of course.’
‘Good, because we’re really looking forward to meeting him. Was it just chestnuts you said he didn’t like?’
‘Yes, but he said not to worry if you’re putting them in the stuffing. He’ll just skip the stuffing.’
She and Kit had had a very interesting discussion about stuffing after that conversation, SJ reflected, which had nothing whatsoever to do with chestnuts.
She felt her neck turning pink at the delicious warmth of the memory.
They’d been dating for the last six weeks and it felt right.
But they had both decided to take things really slowly and they hadn’t as yet met each other’s friends.
‘Here’s Sybil Starlight,’ Michael observed, as a drag queen in impossibly high heels and a long black dress covered with glittering silver stars tottered onto the small stage.
The crowd roared in appreciation. SJ smiled at Michael at the same moment as Sybil began to strut her stuff, swinging her hips provocatively before launching into an old Beatles song: ‘With a Little Help From My Friends’.
That was appropriate, SJ thought, as Sybil sang on in her gloriously husky voice.
You didn’t get far without your friends: your real friends, that was – the ones who forgave you and loved you and accepted you for what you were.
She knew exactly what Dorothy had meant now about real friendships being forged in hell.
Friendships that could withstand the extremes of pain and come through still shining were the strongest friendships of all. They had to be.
The song ended to rapturous applause and Sybil launched into her next number. It was a long while before it was quiet enough to speak again.
When Tanya and Michael were up dancing, SJ sneaked outside for a fag – she’d thought no one had seen her go but when she lifted her head from lighting it, she saw Tanya had followed her out.
‘You shouldn’t come near me when I’m smoking, it’s bad for the baby,’ she cautioned.
‘If I stay in there she’ll be born deaf,’ Tanya said, ‘so it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other. Besides, I wanted to ask you something.’
‘It wasn’t something else about Kit, was it? You’re going to meet him in less than forty-eight hours…’
‘It was nothing to do with Kit,’ Tanya said, as SJ blew smoke in the direction of Big Ben, whose lit-up face was just visible above the rooftops.
‘It was about you. What you said earlier about being glad you’re a recovering alcoholic. Is that how you really feel?’
‘Mmm, yeah, it is actually. I’m always honest about how I feel these days – that’s Kit’s fault.’
Tanya nodded thoughtfully. ‘I was online earlier looking at some statistics. Did you know that there are over a hundred million alcoholics in the world – give or take?’
‘No,’ SJ said. ‘Shit. Are there?’
‘Yes, there are – and only a million of them will ever recover.’
SJ shivered and Tanya narrowed her green eyes. ‘Do you know what that makes you, SJ?’
‘Haven’t a clue,’ SJ said, with a lot more flippancy than she felt. Was she about to get some dire warning about the dangers of relapse? Would Tanya ever really truly trust her again? She could see that her friend was blinking away tears and when she finally spoke, her voice was husky.
‘It makes you one in a million, Sarah-Jane Crosse! That’s what it makes you.’
* * *