Chapter Thirty-Nine Clara
Chapter Thirty-Nine CLARA
‘So where’s the coffee shop?’ Harry is turning on his heel in circles, searching for something.
I frown. ‘There are loads of them.’
He looks exasperated. ‘Central Perk!’ He waves his hands like I’m stupid. ‘We’re right next to Central Park, there is surely a Friends coffee shop called Central Perk?’
I shrug. ‘I think someone said there is a coffee place in that location, but god knows where that building was even filmed.’ I pause. ‘You know there’s like 843 acres of this park?’
Jemma’s eyes widen at my knowledge. ‘How do you know that? Did Angela tell you that?’
I give her a smug look. ‘The Sponsored Snog. A couple of years ago a group of us decided to try to snog someone in every acre of this place.’ I grimace. ‘It was gruelling but I knew I couldn’t give up. I covered more than my fair share, but still only managed to snog fifty-six people that year.’
‘Wow!’ Jemma looks intrigued. ‘How much did you raise for charity?’
I shoot her a confused look. ‘Huh? Ohhh right, when I say sponsored , I just mean we were, like, in it together and, y’know, supported each other. I bought sooo many drinks for people.’
‘That’s not what sponsored means on any level,’ Jemma points out, but Harry looks super impressed. And then a bit grossed out.
‘So anyway, how much of this park do you actually want to see?’ I ask, hoping they’ll say this is enough.
Central Park was on the list of touristy places Jemma and Harry wanted to visit, but a park is still just a park.
And I’ve been sleeping on a really crappy sofa for a few nights, I’m not sure how much more walking I’m capable of.
‘Shall we go see the Met now?’ Jemma says eagerly and I squint at her.
‘The… Met?’ I enquire. ‘What the hell is that? Like the Met Office? You want to know about the weather? Or do you mean the Met Police?’
Harry jumps in. ‘No, she means the New York Mets! Baseball, right, Jem?’
Jemma looks horrified. ‘No! God no! To all of those suggestions. Why are there so many things called the Met?’ She looks at me penetratingly. ‘Clara, are you telling me you lived here for five years and you’ve never even heard of the Metropolitan Museum of Art?’
‘Erm,’ I hedge, ‘oh yeah, that’s totally a thing I’ve heard of.
’ I pause. ‘And have been to, of course! It’s full of, like…
paintings?’ Jemma snorts at my expression and I giggle.
‘OK, fine, I don’t know it.’ I give her a hard look.
‘And I’m pretty sure you don’t care about art either.
I know you love books, but I’ve literally never heard you mention art or artists in your life.
And you don’t even have any pictures on the walls in your house! ’
‘Only because the letting agents would have us boiled alive!’ she protests.
‘No way!’ I smirk. ‘You’re just trying to sound clever.’
For a second I think she will get annoyed, but then she bursts out laughing. ‘Fine, you got me. I don’t really care about the Met. But at least I’d heard of it!’
‘Yes, fine,’ Harry interrupts us. ‘We’re all dumb-dumb philistines, and let’s agree to strike any museums or galleries off the to-do list.’ His eyes light up. ‘I’m starving, let’s go to a really traditional, renowned American restaurant.’
Twenty minutes later and we’re sitting in a Five Guys eating burgers.
‘How is this so much more delicious than the Five Guys we have around London?’ Jemma asks, drooling sauce down her chin.
‘It’s the smoggy New York air!’ I tell her happily, through half-chewed fries. ‘It makes everything taste better.’
Jemma stops eating, looking serious for a moment. ‘You really love it here, huh?’ She swallows hard, though there is no food in her mouth. ‘Are you going to stay?’
Harry stares down at the table before us as I wonder how to answer this. I’ve been waiting for this conversation, but I still don’t feel ready for it. There is a long, expectant silence around the table.
Harry leans in. ‘What actually happened between you and Brandon?’ he asks in a soft voice. ‘Why did you leave him all those months ago to move back to the UK like that?’
‘It’s a long story,’ I say shortly, but neither of them look away or resume eating.
After a minute, Jemma says gently, ‘You said you were going to stop running away from things, Clara. I know it’s scary talking about this stuff, but it’s important. You can talk to us.’
I still don’t answer and Harry looks uncomfortable. ‘Shall I go? I understand if you want to talk about this, just the two of you.’
I shake my head quickly. He deserves to hear this, too.
‘OK.’ I pause. ‘So, Brandon and I met on a night out.’ I pause again, trying to steady my fast breathing.
‘Right away, he seemed mad about me. There were expensive presents, fancy dates.’ I shrug.
‘He’s rich. He said he’d fallen for me within a couple of weeks and that he’d never met anyone like me before.
He wanted us to be together for ever.’ I sigh.
‘I thought it was that one big, sweeping, dramatic love we’re meant to get in our life and that I was being swept off my feet like in the movies.
’ I inhale slowly. ‘But it turns out love is hard work – marriage is hard work. I get that now.’
Jemma’s eyebrows are knitted together as she reaches across the table for my hand.
I continue, hating the words coming out of my mouth.
‘He proposed after only a few months, and we kept it secret because I thought everyone would think we were mad. I guess I was a bit embarrassed. And then, a few weeks later, I found out he was cheating on me.’ Even all these months later, the humiliation burns through me.
I’m fighting everything in me that says run .
But Jemma and Harry deserve to hear the whole thing. I take a deep breath.
‘Anyway, Brandon persuaded me it was a one off – a final fling before we committed ourselves to each other for ever. I broke things off with him, but he wouldn’t leave it alone; sending more flowers, jewellery, other gifts.
’ I wave at my wrist. ‘He got me this stupid high-tech fitness watch and I hate it. Anyway, we got back together and it was all perfect again for a few weeks. Then it happened again. He begged for forgiveness and we decided to try again.’ I stare down at my hands.
‘To be really honest, I felt like I was going a bit mad, like I was addicted to him. We ran off to Nevada and got a licence, then got married the next day.’ I shrug, feeling silly.
‘I thought it would make things secure between us, like of course he wouldn’t cheat on me again once we’d said “I do”. I was so sure…’ I trail off.
‘We were going to drive to San Francisco for our honeymoon, but I found messages on his phone that night from some other woman. On our wedding night! Can you believe that? He was literally sending messages on Tinder a few hours after we’d exchanged vows.
’ I add with fury in my voice, ‘I left the next day, got on a plane, came home.’ I look at Jemma, whose eyes are full of sympathy.
‘But he says he’s really changed now. He seems really serious about making this work.
’ They both look at me with such pity, I feel a surge of humiliation as I continue, ‘I’m not the same na?ve idiot I was before.
I’m in this with open eyes this time. And if it goes wrong again, then I’ll know for sure.
’ I look at Jemma. ‘But it’s like you said, we’re married!
I have to give him another shot. And I hurt him, too, didn’t I?
He said he was broken by me leaving. So I’m… it’s me… I don’t…’
‘It’s not your fault.’ Harry has been quiet until now, but moves closer, circling his arm around me. His arm is bare and warm and I instantly feel better. My chest fills with new air. ‘It’s not your fault!’ he says again, stronger this time.
‘Clara, I’m so sorry,’ Jemma whispers. ‘I never would’ve… I shouldn’t have… if I’d known he… I don’t know why I didn’t ask…’ She trails off again and then grabs my hand, repeating, ‘I’m so sorry.’
We sit quietly, holding each other, and then Jemma shakes her head.
‘What are you doing , Clara? Do you actually want to give this guy another chance? Do you really love him? Do you honestly think he’s changed?’
The dam inside me breaks and I lean forward, head on arms, and start crying.
‘No,’ I say through wails. ‘No, I don’t think he’s changed at all!
I don’t know what I ever saw in him. He’s repulsive to me!
I didn’t want to see him back in the UK because I was in thrall to that loser for so many months.
I’m a stupid idiot who got sucked back in by his lies and charm.
He’s a snake.’ I look up at them through watery eyes.
‘But I’m scared that I’m not strong enough to get away again.
He says all these things and it confuses me. I get so overwhelmed.’
‘You are strong enough!’ Jemma says fiercely.
‘You are so strong. You got away from him once and headed for the best place you could – a safe place with your family! – and you worked on yourself. You did what you had to. But you don’t have to do it alone this time.
We’re here with you. We’re here for you.
’ She nods at Harry, who nods back firmly.
‘Everyone back home is with you, too. Salma, Amanda and Mum. And Angela – even Buffy! She pretends not to care, but I think she does. She’s been sending me loads of messages today, asking if we’ve found you.
’ She pauses, looking a bit abashed. ‘And asking me to get her Twinkies. I don’t even know what Twinkies are. ’
Harry squints. ‘I think they sell them at the Met?’
I nod, laughing a little. ‘I’ll get her some at the airport.’ I look between them. ‘When I come home with you tomorrow.’
They both grin from ear to ear. ‘Seriously?’ And I nod, relief flooding through me. I don’t have to see that arsehole Brandon ever again. I don’t love him – I don’t think I ever really did. I think I was just running away to find something I already had. Or have now.
‘Phew,’ Jemma replies with genuine delight. ‘I’m afraid of what Salma might’ve done if we came back without you.’ She takes a second. ‘When we get home, we’ll help you – we’ll all help you – figure out how to file for a divorce. If that’s what you want.’
I start to cry again, using grease-stained napkins to dry my eyes.
‘Thank you,’ I say at last when I can speak.
‘Thanks, both of you. And I’m sorry.’ I swallow.
‘I’ve already got a lawyer,’ I admit quietly.
‘I looked someone up when I first got back to England. I wanted to get the whole thing annulled since it’s been less than six months and I totally feel like I got defrauded.
’ I sigh. ‘But apparently an annulment is really hard to get and it’s easier just to go through a divorce.
’ I sit up straighter. ‘Either way, I don’t ever want to see that twat again.
’ I brighten, smiling at the pair of them.
The knot that’s been tight in my stomach since I got here – the bad feeling – has gone at last. ‘And I can’t wait to get back home with you guys. ’
The three of us hold hands across the table in a weird circle, smiling at one another. And for the first time in a week, that voice in the back of my head telling me what a fuck-up I’ve been finally shuts up.