CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN LEXIE
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Lexie
It’s the middle of June and I’ve been camping on Scarlet’s new sofa for the past month, as she needed a new one and decided a sofabed was the safest option, especially seeing as I’m still hovering around. It’s a huge, flumpy green-velvet affair. I may have had a hand in helping Scarlet choose it, based on the size of this giant room that she needs to fill. The black leather one she was looking at was vile and didn’t work in this space at all.
She keeps telling me I need to get myself straight mentally before I even so much as think about leaving Edinburgh, which poses a problem. Where do I go? I’m finally in a position where I can think about it, and she’s caught me looking on rental websites at flats in London. I’m just seeing what’s available for a sad, lonely woman who isn’t relishing the thought of living by herself in one of the world’s most expensive cities. Rory has stayed over here a few times and Scarlet goes to his place quite often too, but she’s a loyal, lovely friend and stays in with me on the nights when I don’t have anything else on. I think they’d be seeing a lot more of each other if I wasn’t here. I need to make a decision soon because I’m sure I’m outstaying my welcome.
‘Of course you’re not,’ Scarlet insists when I tell her this as we cook dinner together. ‘It’s exactly like it was before, when we used to live together. Plus you’ve learned to cook a bit since then, so it’s even better. I’m in no hurry at all to see you go, trust me. But until you work out what you’re doing, you should really think about rescuing your stuff from Josh’s before the guilt wears off and he throws it in a skip.’
I gasp, spin round from the cooker where I’m stirring our risotto and look at her. ‘He wouldn’t do that!’
‘He shagged Tamara. His moral compass is iffy.’
I slump briefly and then try to rally. ‘When I work out what I’m doing and where I’m going next, I’ve decided to let him pack it all up for me. Josh can be trusted to do that, even if he can’t be trusted not to cheat on me. Plus he can shoulder the cost of it all, and the burden. I can’t go back and do it. I can’t go back ever again.’
‘I’m still impressed you just turned on your heel and ran,’ Scarlet says.
I didn’t exactly do a runner. I bundled a few items into my case and called a taxi. I stood outside for ages, drowning in my own humiliation while I waited for it to arrive eventually. Josh tried to offer me a lift and then tried to make me stay, so he could explain in more horrific detail, in an act to appease his own conscience. Or get it off his chest. I’ll never know now. He won’t give me another thought. He’s in love with Tamara – Tamara who’s been right under his nose the entire time. I was the usurper who stood in the way of them being together. Scarlet called it from day one. She smelled trouble from the moment I told her about their friendship. I’m an idiot. I’m—
‘I’m the other woman,’ I say suddenly.
‘Sorry?’
‘ I’m the other woman. I’m the one who stood in the way of two people who love each other getting together for the past two years. I’m the one who thought this was the real deal, when really it wasn’t. If this were a book or a film, I’d be … I’d be the one you’d hate. I’d be the one you wanted to fall down a mineshaft or get a work placement in Timbuktu, so the hero could be with the real love of his life. Fucking hell, Tamara is the heroine .’
Scarlet blows air out of her cheeks. ‘Oh, shit,’ she exclaims, which says everything without saying anything. ‘No,’ she replies quickly. ‘No, no, no. That’s not how this works.’
‘Yes, it is,’ I say. ‘Tamara is the heroine. I’m not. Tamara is the real love of Josh’s life, and I am the evil crone who needed defeating so that Princess Tamara could get her happy ending.’
‘You’re kind of ranting now,’ Scarlet tells me and wrestles the wooden spoon off me, so she can stir the risotto that’s sticking to the bottom of the pot.
I can’t say anything that’s not already been said, and silence descends on the kitchen. ‘It’s quiet here,’ I point out, my tone still gloomy and depressive. I appreciate that we’re in a residential street, but there’s no noise and no sign of life. It’s like that scene in 28 Days Later when a young Cillian Murphy wakes up from a coma, walks around alone and can’t find a single person. ‘It’s quiet for a city,’ I point out.
‘Yeah, this bit of Edinburgh is, compared to where we lived in London. It’s really residential,’ Scarlet says. ‘Not always quiet, though.’
I’m still staring out of the window. A delivery van pulls up at the house across the road.
‘It’s not a massive city,’ she goes on. ‘Anyway, my point earlier – before we went off on a tangent – was this: Rory says you can store your stuff in his garage if you want. It’s where he keeps all his work tools and lawnmower but, unless you’ve accumulated loads more stuff, it should all fit. It’s an easy solution to your problem … to one of your problems,’ she clarifies, making me smile. I love Scarlet for saying the truth, no matter how hard it sounds. Her lack of filter is one of her finest qualities.
‘But his garage is in Leith.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she says. ‘It’s not far from here.’
‘That’s the point I’m making. His garage is in Scotland.’
‘Yes?’
‘Why would I want my stuff in Scotland?’
‘Because you’re in Scotland,’ she replies slowly, as if I’m stupid. She’s silent then, looking at me as if waiting for me to get there by myself.
I smile properly for the first time since Josh blindsided me. ‘You think I should live in Scotland?’
‘Edinburgh,’ she tells me. ‘I’m being really specific about this because, selfishly, I like having you around. Don’t move to the Hebrides or anything.’
‘Why would I move to Edinburgh?’
‘Why wouldn’t you? You could move here for a bit. Find a furnished flat – there’s plenty of them, so I don’t have to hand over half this lot.’ She gestures around to all our old furniture. ‘Where else were you planning to go after you’d finished licking your wounds?’
‘London,’ I say automatically.
‘Why?’ she fires back.
‘Because … it’s where I live.’
‘You lived in London. Then you lived in the Cotswolds. Now you’re homeless.’
I laugh. ‘I’m not homeless .’
‘You can’t live here. You can’t graduate from the sofabed to the boxroom. I need that boxroom for my computer. My monitor is huge.’
‘Your monitor fills that tiny room and no, I wasn’t suggesting I live here. Am I outstaying my welcome? You told me a minute ago that I wasn’t, but is that why …?’
‘No,’ she replies. ‘I love having you here. Ooh,’ she starts, ‘we could maybe look for a flat together? Although I’m locked into this one for quite a while.’
‘I feel we might be a bit beyond that now, don’t you?’ I say gently.
‘Yeah,’ she agrees. ‘I was just testing the water. Possibly we’re going backwards if we do that. And also I’m learning to love my own space.’
I haven’t learned how to love my own space yet. Perhaps that’s what I need to do. Maybe I do need a change, a new adventure. Maybe I need to be somewhere new, work out what I want from my world. Maybe I need to do a Chris.
‘Moving to Edinburgh is only a suggestion. A selfish suggestion,’ she says. ‘Though it’s great here.’
‘I know it is,’ I agree.
‘You work from home, and now the London hotel’s finished … I’ve missed you, and you need to find a place to live.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’
It’s my turn to take the spoon from her and unstick the rice. It’s ready and I remove the pan from the hob.
‘All the things you loved doing in London are here: shopping, eating, Deliveroo.’
‘Deliveroo?’ I question. ‘Now you have my attention. I’ll think about it. I’ll do some research.’
Scarlet holds out the bowls for me, so I can start serving up our dinner.
‘You do that,’ she says. ‘And meanwhile I’ll start bombarding you with links to the flats I’ve already found for you.’