Chapter 13
The mood lifts again once we’re back in the drawing room. I’m ensconced in one of the plush sofas, feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol. I’m weary, not only from the journey, the anxiety that plagued me all the way, but from the emotional rollercoaster I feel I’ve been on since I got here.
I try to forget about that weird moment in the dining room and concentrate on the conversation at hand.
We realised after we retired with coffee – and more wine for those that wanted it – that we never did get around to those potted histories.
Leo and Becca love talking about themselves, Alex and Jameson less so; but I manage to hear a bit about Alex’s new graphic design job and how he and Jameson hiked the West Highland Way together last summer.
Mostly, the conversation is dominated by stories of Leo’s life at court – he’s a bigwig criminal barrister these days.
He likes to paint himself in glory, but isn’t afraid to tell tales of his early cases including mishaps and misfortunes.
Kimmy chimes in and we hear far more than is necessary about their recent cruise where they got engaged.
Becca talks about her sparkly London life, which she’s given up now for a quieter vibe, for Tarnmore and Euan.
I am shown photos of Becca on the red carpet at celebrity parties, as well as Kimmy and Leo posing in sunglasses against cobalt seas.
The alcohol warms my blood and laughter smooths out the ridges of the past. I start to imagine a future where these people are my friends and we meet regularly like this.
We will perhaps sail through our thirties together, celebrating life’s milestones.
The group will expand to accommodate partners and children.
I might be getting carried away with myself when I start picturing us as best men and bridesmaids, holding each other’s babies at naming ceremonies and assembling our families for weekend breaks and ski trips.
It’s intoxicating, even if part of me just can’t imagine myself being so deeply connected ever again.
But a treacherous part of my brain is still wondering: what did Becca mean when she said we weren’t going to go there … does she mean that night? What is it that I’m supposed to remember?
Don’t think about that.
I focus on the conversation again. Leo is being his boyish, charming self; he’s verbose and entertaining.
It makes me remember the good in him – the sweetness behind that brash exterior.
Though he came across as self-absorbed a lot of the time, it was Leo who borrowed his father’s car and drove me through the night to Inverness when Dad had a health scare.
I never liked the way he was with Gen, though – he could be both possessive and dismissive, and she never seemed to really know where she stood.
Becca is in her element as she perches on the arm of the chair Euan is sitting in, her arm draped around his neck.
She’s super chatty and has the best celebrity anecdotes from her time as a journalist. Alex is at his most witty and cutting but he makes us all laugh.
Having teetered on the brink of drunkenness he seems to have pulled back to a sweet spot of inebriation.
He always did like to flirt with danger, push everything to the extreme.
I remember how Jameson used to worry about him: the drugs, the drink, the reckless disregard for rules.
Jameson is so humble, he hardly talks about his success at all. It’s left to Alex to enumerate Jameson’s accomplishments and tell us about all the charity projects he’s been involved in.
Kimmy and Euan are both pretty quiet, featuring in the conversation only peripherally supporting Leo and Becca’s leading roles. It must be a bit weird for them, not really being part of things.
As for me, I share as little of myself as I can get away with. My work is not fodder for dinner-party gossip. Plus it’s hard to inject much glamour into my job. I dodge all questions of romance, or the lack thereof, feeling Jameson’s eyes on me when Leo asks teasingly about my love life.
It feels like we’re having a silent, hidden conversation, Jameson and I. Shared looks, secret smiles. But am I reading too much into it? Every flicker of those dark, lovely eyes seems to hold some deeper meaning.
When we tire of talking about ourselves we segue into music and art, house prices, current affairs, the state of Scottish politics – Alex and Leo both have strong (opposing) opinions on independence.
I can almost see our teenage selves rolling their eyes at how dull and old we sound, giggling behind their hands.
When the conversation turns argumentative, Becca expertly steers us off the subject of politics.
Alex ends up telling a rambling story about Jameson getting stuck in a bog on their hiking trip and ending up with trench foot on account of not having any dry socks.
‘You know you’re a good mate when you’re willing to share a tent with someone whose actual flesh is rotting. ’
Jameson pulls a face. ‘He’s being dramatic, but it was pretty grim.’
Becca tells us the story of how she and Euan met and I listen closely even though she told it to me earlier. She’s a good storyteller even if I do suspect she’s exaggerating the whole love at first sight – it was meant to be vibe.
‘Our eyes met across hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of horseflesh and I knew exactly how the night was destined to end.’ She flashes Euan a cheeky wink and he laughs.
‘And of course, I just had to get him a job in Mummy’s stables,’ Becca adds, and I see Euan’s eyebrows draw down as she pretty much tells us that he couldn’t get a job on his own merit.
I wince, but Becca seems oblivious to his discomfort.
‘You work in the stables?’ Kimmy looks confused. ‘I thought you were an actual chef.’
Euan looks slight mollified at that. Becca laughs. ‘He does know his way around the kitchen.’ She winks suggestively. ‘And the bedroom.’
Leo lets out a braying laugh. ‘She’s sleeping with the hired help. Turns out it is Downton Abbey after all.’
Kimmy and Becca laugh. Euan looks unconcerned, but Alex’s face darkens.
‘Just because he has a normal job that doesn’t pull in six figures,’ he snaps. His fists bunch with anger. ‘It’s so typical of you, Leo, looking down on folk for the hand they’ve been dealt.’
Leo laughs, full of bluster now, glancing around for support. ‘Settle down, eh, mate.’
Kimmy’s face hardens, her gaze like polished glass. ‘Alex, ever heard of humour? Maybe I’ll teach you sometime?’
‘It’s not fucking funny taking the piss out of folk for having to work for a living.’
‘That’s not what he was doing, Alex. Relax.’ Becca puts a hand on his arm, but Alex shakes her off and goes to stand moodily by the window, pulling the curtain aside to peer into the dark and snow.
Jameson wanders over to Alex. He was always good at getting him out of a mood.
Leo regains his composure and wraps his arms around Kimmy’s shoulders, looming over her, pressing her possessively to his chest in a way that reminds me of how he used to be sometimes with Gen.
‘I wasn’t poking fun, not really. I hope you’ll be very happy with your bit of rough, Bex. ’ He waggles his eyebrows.
Shocked silence falls over us. Becca winces – Leo’s pushed the bounds of banter too far; even for him, that was extreme. Fury infuses Alex’s face as he turns back from the window and Jameson has to slap a hand on his chest to hold him back.
Kimmy tries another giggle, but it dies quickly and she turns her attention to her nails. Leo’s cheeks pinken and he takes a sip of Champagne, clears his throat. For a moment I hope he might be about to apologise, but before he can, Euan gets up and leaves the room.
‘Oops,’ says Leo when Euan is barely out of the room. ‘Have I offended him?’
‘Leo,’ I snap when it becomes apparent no one else is going to challenge him – verbally at least; Alex still looks like he might like to punch Leo in the face and Jameson is fully focused on preventing that.
‘That was totally inappropriate.’ There’s a murmur of agreement from the group and Alex glares daggers.
Leo bites his lip, and looks down: cowed but still assured of his forgiveness. ‘Yeah,’ he murmurs. ‘Sorry …’
Jameson releases Alex with a final warning pat.
He looks at me and shakes his head. Alex gives Leo a wide berth, gaze still narrowed.
Kimmy rolls her eyes like she thinks we’re overreacting and I continue to stand stiffly in the centre of the room wondering if Leo was always like that and I … didn’t notice? Overlooked it?
Becca sighs and hurries after Euan.
*
Jameson and I are in the kitchen with Euan, helping with the washing up.
It seems only fair since he did all the cooking and he isn’t being paid to look after us.
We work quickly and silently, establishing a rhythm.
Euan tips leftovers into tubs and stacks them in the giant refrigerator; Jameson rinses the plates and I stack the doublewide dishwasher.
The kitchen is in the basement, down a narrow stone stairwell.
The room is vast and modern with French doors at the end leading onto a secluded patio, cloaked now in blackness and a swathe of snow.
Flakes continue to hurl themselves at the glass in a mad dance. There’s been no let-up in the blizzard.
Euan seems fine – perhaps he shrugged off Leo’s facetious remark, or maybe he just doesn’t want to make waves with Becca’s old friends.
He’s wearing torn jeans and a crisp polo shirt that reminds me of something Leo would wear.
I wonder if Becca bought it for him, then catch myself – am I as bad as Leo thinking Euan couldn’t afford to buy himself decent clothes?
That he’s freeloading off Bex living here.
That was the subtext of all Leo’s exchanges with Euan, his not-so-subtle eyerolls.
Leo can be a dick sometimes.
Alex is guilty of a kind of reverse snobbery too, letting the discrepancy in our backgrounds and lifestyles drive a wedge between us.
Earlier when Kimmy was describing the cruise, the trip on a private yacht into secluded tropical waters, the sunset proposal and the whopping diamond now weighing down her slim finger, Alex scoffed and said, ‘Aye, fine. You win, we cannae compete with you pair.’ Like they were engaged in competition and he, despite being the obvious loser, was somehow the moral victor all along.
There was a flush of embarrassment on Kimmy’s cheeks, a flash of anger in Leo’s expression, but he didn’t say anything, just let the subject drop.
I wonder what Euan makes of us all. From everything he’s seen so far he must be wondering why we’ve bothered reuniting at all, when everything feels spiky and at odds between us.
Was it always like that? Am I misremembering the perfection of those early days?
Perhaps it’s just not possible to recapture that youthful solidarity now we’re full-grown people with lives and responsibilities. Back then, despite the seam of dissent that sometimes ran through the layers of our friendship, we were more than a disparate group of individuals.
We were a pack.
And we always had each other’s backs, no matter what.
Still, I’m sure things will settle down once we get used to being in each other’s company again. We haven’t all been together for an extended period of time in so long.
Euan gets the dishwasher running and leans against the countertop. ‘We should take more Champagne up with us. Becca will want cocktails.’
Really? I was hoping it was nearly time to call it a night.
‘Sure.’ I shrug. I’m not going to be able to keep up with them on the drinking front. Jameson yawns and smiles sheepishly.
‘I’m knackered,’ he says, like he’s read my mind. ‘Maybe I’m getting old but I can’t drink like this anymore.’
Euan opens the separate drinks fridge which is almost as big as the main one. He takes out two green and gold bottles. ‘Bex knows how to party. Your boy Alex likes his drink too, huh?’
I see something shift in Jamesons’s expression, but he doesn’t speak.
‘Pretty sure that overgrown public schoolboy, with the receding hairline he’s trying so hard to hide, can’t hold his liquor. Might be fun to see him puke his guts up.’
‘Leo’s all right when you get to know him,’ I say, a weak defence but better than none.
I suppress a smile at Euan’s depiction – back at St Andrews Leo was the boy every girl wanted, the kingpin of our little realm, and I suppose I still think about him that way.
But Euan’s right, his hairline isn’t what it once was.
Mind you, that hasn’t stopped Becca flirting outrageously with him, right under Kimmy’s and Euan’s noses.
She’s been flirting with Alex too, of course – she always did like to play them off against each other.
She had no hope with Leo, not with Gen around, and I don’t think that was the point.
She flirted because she could, because it made her feel powerful. Now it just seems like a habit.
She never flirted with Jameson – she liked her boys rich or with a wicked streak. Leo was the former, and Alex had vices aplenty.
‘Leo’s a posh git,’ Euan says without rancour. ‘But I suppose he can’t help it. He and Alex don’t like each other much, do they?’
‘No, they do,’ Jameson starts to explain before trailing off when he realises there are no easy words for how Alex and Leo interact. ‘It’s complicated.’
Their relationship was always a complicated dance of one-upmanship that saw one come out on top, and then the other.
‘So you and Becca …’
Euan shoots me a grin. ‘I know what you’re thinking. It shouldn’t work but it does.’
I think of Leo’s description in the drawing room. Your bit of rough. I blush. ‘No, I didn’t mean …’
‘It’s okay. We’re very different people, I get that. We work because we’re just us. Away from all the noise, it doesn’t matter how much money we have or where we come from.’
I nod slowly. ‘Yeah, I get that.’ I can’t help shooting a glance at Jameson and once again he’s looking at me too. I wonder if we would still work, away from the noise. ‘Becca seems really into you; I’ve never seen her so smitten.’
Back upstairs, Alex, Becca, Kimmy and Leo seem to have fallen into easy camaraderie. They’re loud, loquacious and affectionate. Their conversation flows with none of the sticky undercurrents of before.
Becca leaps up when we enter the room, throwing her arms around Euan and swiftly liberating a bottle of Champagne from his clutches. ‘Cocktail time!’
I was half hoping I can escape to bed, but it doesn’t seem likely. Becca grabs my hand. ‘French Martini, Eilish?’
The upbeat vibe is enticing and I feel more inclined to linger now that everyone’s relaxed and being nice to each other. Perhaps I’ll just have one more …