Chapter 22 #3
‘He is a great guy,’ I agree, disliking the turn the conversation has taken.
I don’t need to hear about how wonderful Lawrence is.
He’s already rich and good-looking with chestnut-brown hair, hazel eyes and a square jaw.
He was the captain of his school soccer team and smart enough to get into law school.
The universe just handed Lawrence the perfect life on a plate, pretty much like it did Reese, and now they will have a perfect marriage and beautiful children.
But there’s something underneath all that perfection and I want to know what it is.
‘Maybe you can talk to him about how you feel about some stuff,’ I prod, knowing that her defences are down. Asking her for money is circling in my mind but I know it’s not the right time, not just yet. I have to be a good friend first.
She nods, as though this idea has never occurred to her.
‘And do you know he says we always have to go to his family on Christmas, like always. And my dad will get so sad if he doesn’t see me on Christmas Day, like that’s one of the times when he’s always, always happy and I don’t want him to…
to be sad.’ She hiccups again and then takes another handful of sweet potato fries.
‘That’s hard,’ I say. I want her to keep talking.
I want to know everything and I know that the best way to do that is to just murmur along, not offer any advice.
I hate myself for how much joy I am getting over hearing how messed up Lawrence is but at the same time, I envy her a man who cares so much.
‘But my mum and dad love him so much and my dad has been so happy about the wedding. He’s up every day planning and getting excited and Lawrence is so good to him, they get on so well. And he’s like really, really good in bed.’
She finishes her wine and then her face pales. Somewhere in her brain, a part of her is screaming that she should shut up, that she is spilling far too much into the world, that she definitely shouldn’t be spilling it to me.
‘Well, perhaps—’ I start and she stands.
‘I’m going to be sick.’
I follow her to the bathroom where I hold her hair back as she vomits. In between retching she keeps talking and I almost cannot believe what I’m hearing but I let her keep going, loving that she is so in despair and hating myself for being such a bitch.
Her life is very far from perfect and Lawrence sounds like a real arsehole. He is pushy and manipulative and controlling. I could handle a man like that but Reese is too sweet, too kind and he’s going to destroy her the same way Coach destroyed my mother.
When she’s done, she stands up on shaky legs and rinses her mouth and then splashes some water from the basin over her face.
‘I need to go home,’ she says, without meeting my gaze.
‘Of course, I’ll get you a cab,’ I say.
Together we leave the bar and stand in the warm summer air while she waits for a taxi.
‘Sorry,’ she keeps mumbling. ‘Just ignore me, really, I’m just being silly. Just ignore me.’
‘Tell me one truth and one lie,’ I say as I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
‘Oh right, we forgot to play,’ she says.
‘We did, you go first,’ I tell her. She has spilled enough truths tonight for the next ten years but I want to play the game anyway. Maybe I can tell her about Sophie now and ask her for the money? It can be my truth.
‘Okay um… I don’t want to wear my hair down for the wedding because um… I like it up and…’
The taxi pulls up, making me want to scream because I won’t get to ask her for the money, but perhaps I can remind her what a good friend I am tomorrow when she’s sober.
I step forward and open the door. Before she gets in, Reese leans down and whispers something in my ear and then she slumps into the back seat.
I feel a ripple of shock through my body at what she has just said. ‘Really?’ I laugh. ‘You’re joking.’
‘Nup, nup, nup,’ she sings and then she covers her mouth with her hand.
The man driving the cab says, ‘Let’s go, girly, and you’d better not throw up in my cab.’
‘Is that really the truth?’ I ask.
‘Yes, yes,’ she says. ‘I promise, promise, promise. That’s my truth.’ She nods, grabbing the door handle and pulling it towards her. I believe her. I believe she just told me the truth.
The moment the door shuts, the taxi roars away.
I walk home to my shitty house where my housemates, two guys and a girl, are smoking weed while they play their music at some revolting volume.
I don’t bother with my usual lecture on what the neighbours will say.
Instead, I go to my room and lie on my bed, thinking about everything Reese said, turning over all her troubles in my mind as I fall asleep while thinking about the final thing she said.
She’s given away too much tonight and I’m sure she would be happy to give away some money so that none of it comes to light.
I get to decide what happens now. I’m sure that, in a few days, I can go to Reese and remind her of everything she said and everything I understood she was saying and then she will give me anything I want, I’m sure of it.
And I really, really wonder what Lawrence Holmes the Third will have to say about what I’ve just been told.
What might Lawrence give me?
It feels so delicious to know what I know, to finally feel in control of a situation. For the first time in my life I feel powerful, filled with the knowledge of things I should never have known.
Now I just need to think carefully about what to do with all that power, how to wield it so it serves me best.