Chapter 25 #2
My entire body seems to turn into acid. ‘Oh yeah? A thing?’
‘Yeah. Stevie was supposed to come with, but he and I aren’t … really in a good place right now.’ Naomi sounds as though she’s in processing mode. I hate how reassured I feel about this.
‘Anyway, it’s some bullshit movie industry thing. You wanna come? I’m going to need backup. These things are intense if you’re not the type of person who gets paid to pretend to be whole other people for a living.’
‘Sure,’ I say, attempting to divine a balance between upbeat and only casually interested. ‘Happy to help.’ The way Naomi’s face reacts leads me to believe I register closer to deranged.
My hand shakes as I put on my eyeliner, resulting in one wing that is noticeably more pronounced than the other. Panicking, I wipe all my make-up off to start again. The significance of what tonight is going to bring into my life fills the room to the four corners.
As I’m readying to leave, I notice a message on Gchat from Violet.
‘My mum just died,’ it reads. ‘Happened ten minutes ago. I’m still in the hospice and people keep asking me questions that I don’t know how to answer. I don’t know what to do.’
Shit. ‘Oh, love, I am so sorry to hear this,’ I type back. ‘Do you have anyone there with you?’
‘No,’ she replies. ‘It was just the two of us, remember?’
I feel a cold panic. ‘How about a friend nearby? Or a neighbour? Someone you can call to be with you?’
‘That’ll be a NO No and again, a FKN NO. I just told you.’
Shit.
‘I’d really like it if you could just hop on a call with me right now,’ she types. ‘I could really use someone to just walk me through the next half an hour. I’ve never felt so lonely, seriously. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.’
Figuring that I can manage a few minutes, I’m about to call Violet’s Australian number when Naomi appears at the bedroom door.
‘You’re not ready? I’ll need to get going in five minutes,’ she warns.
Panicked, I begin typing with shaking fingers. ‘Violet, the thing is, Naomi has asked me to this party thing, and TED will definitely be there. It’s some industry party, sort of important.’
I wince even as I type. I’m hoping that the Tedette part of her will understand the hugeness of what’s happening over here.
‘I can’t breathe right now. Truly,’ she writes. ‘So much for being the Den Mama!’
‘Violet, I’m doing this for all of us!’ I shoot back. ‘And I need to go right this minute or I won’t make it at all. I promise I’ll come back to you later, when I get the chance. Can you sit tight for just an hour or two and I swear I’ll check back in? And I’ll have good news about Ted, promise.’
‘Good fkn news for you, you mean,’ Violet writes. Her green online dot dims to grey promptly.
It’s a less-than-ideal situation, granted, but I need to shake it off. Tonight I’m meeting Ted properly, and I cannot pass up the chance for anything, even this.
By the time I’ve finished reapplying eye make-up, I look vaguely passable as a person who knows how to put make-up on.
There’s something about knowing that the rest of your life is about to begin that really makes it impossible to put on eyeliner.
I give myself one last look in the mirror, and then I get into the cab with Naomi, feeling as wickedly clever as a stowaway.
‘You seem a bit distracted,’ I tell Naomi as she gnaws on a knuckle and peers out the window.
‘Yeah,’ she exhales. ‘Stevie and I had a big talk last night. One of those deep and meaningfuls.’ A rock of worry lands on my already simmering nausea. No more complications, I beg of you.
‘Is that … a good thing?’ I ask.
‘He thinks I should go to AA. He says my drinking is a problem. Or more specifically, it’s becoming a problem to him, and I should do something about it.’ She whispers the ‘drinking’ bit towards me, as though the Ethiopian cab driver gives a single monkey’s about what she is saying.
The thing is, part of me knows Stevie is dead right. Naomi is the type of person that says she drinks on the weekend, but then the weekend somehow mysteriously starts on a Tuesday. Her life would likely be infinitely better if she didn’t drink.
But there’s also an opportunity there to unseat Stevie and elbow him out of the way, which would make getting to stay in her house more viable. That much I can see.
‘Honestly, fuck Stevie,’ I tell Naomi. ‘That’s bang out of line. He’s only been with you for five minutes. Who does he think he is telling you that? You don’t have a problem with drinking.’ The untruth is bitter in my mouth.
‘He – he said that you would say that, but he also says that Irish drinking and Canadian drinking are two very different things.’ She laughs sadly.
Stevie does have a point. I think back to the North Americans I met in London down the years, who would shake their heads mournfully as you ordered a third pint on a weeknight, silently willing you to go and seek help for your ‘problem’.
‘Yeah, and you should see some of the people I party with,’ I say. ‘One friend of mine has fourteen rum and Cokes, then runs around on the spot for thirty minutes before she chunders up the lot. She’s managed to get puke on the ceiling. I mean, you don’t do anything like that, do you?’
‘I do really like him,’ Naomi says to herself. ‘He probably only wants what is best for me.’
‘Well, it strikes me as a touch manipulative,’ I tell her. Naomi looks back out of the window, retreating into her thoughts. I can feel Stevie somehow gaining ground again, his chance to become her top dog not quite dead in the water yet.
‘Men giving us ultimatums like that is never a good thing, whatever way you want to look at it,’ is my final say on the matter. ‘It feels like coercive control.’ I know these two words have weight, but I send them her way anyway.
Naomi’s eyes widen.
As we arrive at the club, the room is overwhelmingly packed, and my near-constant dizziness about meeting Ted properly isn’t helping.
There’s a definite sense that this is the place where everyone else in the city wishes they could be.
The men stand with their feet planted apart like sports players, holding court and clearly saying things that they believe to be utterly profound or hilarious for everyone else to hear.
The women are twig-like and appear to have received instructions from an unknown, outside entity to look as bored as they can.
Even their pronounced sternums seem hostile and world-weary.
I wish I could say that the energy is fun and exciting, but self-congratulation drips from the wall like condensation.
Naomi has dressed up, which means wearing a black dress and a necklace that sits prominently on her chest. A butterfly hair brooch is her big concession to glamour.
She leads me through the pack until she sees Alice, who is wearing a red bandage dress that only seems to accentuate every perfect angle of her form.
It makes me look as if I’ve found my polka-dot shift dress in a nearby skip.
She can be seen from four miles away, and looking directly at her really is like looking into the sun.
We give each other pally hugs as I try not to look too disappointed that she is alone.
If she has noticed my hair colour change since the last time we met, she isn’t letting on.
She seems to know practically everyone in this room.
‘You guys, this is HECTIC,’ she breathes, eyes subtly scanning the room for others to talk to.
A waiter passes by with a tray of champagne: impressively, Naomi appears to have grabbed three glasses in one fluid motion.
She hands one to me and I’m pleasantly relieved when it doesn’t shatter in my fist.
‘Where’s T-Bob?’ Naomi asks. Alice shrugs.
‘Who’s T-Bob?’ I ask.
‘Ted Robert. We use his middle name,’ Naomi clarifies, and someone familiar catches her eye.
The next thing I know, Ted is making his way over to us ever so slowly, flanked by Henry his agent, and a woman that I take to be Henry’s plus-one.
Henry has big 15-per-cent energy; he’s like a Rottweiler in cufflinks.
I watch Ted from the corner of my eye as he approaches, too terrified to look at him directly.
Ted is shorter and somehow slighter in real life, certainly shorter than Alice and not the burly mountain bear of a man that he was in my mind’s eye.
He no longer has his love handles, and his torso seems more defined.
The overall effect is that he somehow looks a bit meaner.
Thoughts scramble around, looking for definition and clarity.
I think I know him, but I don’t, I have to remind myself.
Soon another guy, a random person, is walking alongside them, aware of others’ eyes on them. He is babbling in such an animated way that he clearly doesn’t want this interaction with Ted to end.
Ted and Henry are right next to us. We are breathing the same air. We are existing under the same molecules. I concentrate on the nothings that are coming out of Naomi’s mouth. I can feel Alice waiting for a break in the conversation so she can introduce me.
Ted’s eyes land on me for a single second before Henry smoothly guides Ted away from us into a corner. I can only look on as Ted changes course, away from us. Alice and Naomi don’t seem to mind. I, meanwhile, want to bite down on a strap and screech. If I could throttle myself effectively, I would.
‘I’m starving,’ Naomi wails. ‘Seriously, why is there never any food at these things? What do you people live on, fresh air?’
Alice, to her credit, laughs this off.
‘Call of nature,’ I try to sing-song, but even I note the shrillness in my voice.