‘It practically stuck to your head.’ I smile at the memory. ‘I haven’t thought about that in years.’
‘Portia,’ says Dan. ‘I know a Portia. What’s her surname?’
‘Fairley,’ say Si, Josh and I simultaneously.
Dan smiles as the rest of the table freezes. ‘I knew that wasn’t a common name. How do you all know Portia?’
How can a name, a name from the past that should have no power at all any more, still have such an impact on the three people in this room that knew her way back when? Time seems to stand still, and I’m too lost in memories to notice that Josh and Si are diving into those memories at the same time.
And the thing is, I can’t help but wonder if she’s forgiven us. I forgave her, forgave her for breaking Josh’s heart, a long time ago. I figured that she must have had her reasons, that she wasn’t doing it intentionally, but I’ve always wondered whether she has forgiven us for abandoning her friendship as a result.
And ten years on, none of us expected to hear her name in the comfort of this kitchen.
‘We were at university together,’ I eventually tell a bemused Dan, because he can see his words have had some effect, only he is not sure what it is. I smooth out my voice, careful of the tone, doing my best to keep the excitement contained. ‘And you? How do you know Portia?’
‘She bought my old flat,’ he laughs, entirely unaware of the silent reaction her name has caused.
‘Where?’ I ask, suddenly desperate to know what’s happened to her, if her life has fulfilled her expectations, if destiny has, as we all assumed, been kind to her.
‘Sutherland Avenue,’ says Dan. ‘Nice flat. I miss it. Wish I didn’t have to sell but there it is. Give up your job in the City for psychotherapy and bach pad goes with it, I’m afraid.’ He shrugs and smiles at Si and Lucy, who offer him sympathetic smiles in return.
‘She was always terribly beautiful at university,’ Si says dreamily. ‘One of those girls whose life was perfect. She had money, class, beauty, kindness. Born with a golden spoon in her mouth. We followed her career as a journalist for a while, but lost track. Do you know what she’s up to now?’
‘Sure,’ says Dan. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t know. Haven’t you seen that series on TV?’ He mentions the name of a series we all love. A weekly drama that follows the lives of a group of thirty-somethings, and before Dan says anything I suddenly realize that she is the writer. She could not be anything other than the writer because, and I know it is ridiculous that this should not have occurred to me before, because all of the characters are based on us.
I look at the others and see Josh’s mouth hanging open, Si’s eyes wide with shock, both having had the same realization.
‘Oh my God, she writes it!’ Si finally snorts, half in wonderment, half aghast.
‘She doesn’t just write it,’ Dan says. ‘She apparently came up with the concept, sold it to the network, does all the writing and storylining, and to top it all has sold it on to seventeen countries worldwide. She’s making a fortune.’
Si looks at Josh, his lower lip still somewhere near his knees, and coughs, attempting to regain some composure. ‘Excuse me, can you pass the salt please, Jacob.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ says Lucy, ‘they’re not u – ’ and she stops, because in the split second it took for her to verbalize that thought, she had another. A memory. She remembered the characters.
The central character in the series is Mercedes (good joke, I thought). Mercedes is the wealthy daughter of a millionaire who has spent her life struggling for independence. Mercedes looks like she ought to be a bitch. But of course she’s not. She’s adorable, although she can’t seem to find a man who looks beyond the physical, who is really interested in getting to know her.
There’s Jacob, world-weary, kind, but rather weak, who’s married to Lisa, an overbearing Sloane who’s too busy shopping and lunching to take much care of their toddler, Marty, who tends to turn up at Jacob’s office on a daily basis.
Steen is the perfect gay best friend, who keeps the laughs coming in with his curt one-liners.
And Mark. Gorgeous, sensitive Mark, who loves Mercedes unrequitedly, for he is far too nice for Mercedes to love in return, and he, of course, could only be Matt, Portia’s boyfriend from university.
And then, I realize with horror, there’s Katy. Katy, who is plain, dowdy, but completely self-obsessed. Katy who only wears black. Or occasionally sludge-green. Katy, whose hair looks like it could house a few hundred sparrows in it if they were really stuck for accommodation.
Lucy suddenly chokes, and we all look at one another in panic, terrified she’s choked with shock, but she has a sip of water and then starts laughing. And laughing. And laughing.
‘It’s hysterical,’ she says, as we slowly see the funny side. ‘You’re Katy!’ and she points at me and goes off into peals of laughter again, almost falling off her chair, arms weak with mirth.
‘You can laugh,’ I say in a nasty tone. ‘She hasn’t even met you. She’s obviously just heard that Josh married someone who’s name begins with an L, who has a son whose name begins with an M. I’m Katy, for God’s sake. Katy, who’s a selfish cow. I can’t believe she’d do that to me.’
‘Are you sure about this?’ Dan says, looking more than a little worried about how this information has gone down. ‘Are you sure the characters are you?’
‘Look at us,’ says Josh with a shrug.
‘I’m happy,’ Si says brightly. ‘Steen’s gorgeous.’
‘Don’t you mind?’ says Dan suddenly. ‘Don’t you mind that someone whom you knew has written your life stories down and shown them to thousands of people?’
‘Millions, according to the ratings,’ adds Josh. Quietly.
‘Not quite our life stories.’ Lucy gets up to check the pudding. ‘Josh really isn’t Jacob, or Jacob Josh. Josh is far stronger than that. And Katy isn’t Cath. She’s gorgeous, for starters.’ She gives me a quick squeeze as she passes, which is supposed to make me feel better. And does, as it happens. ‘As for Steen’ – she eyes Si up and down – ‘Si’s far sweeter than Steen.’
‘Not to mention far more handsome,’ prompts Si.
‘Of course,’ she laughs. ‘And far more handsome.’
‘You know what it is,’ muses Josh, staring into his glass of wine as if it holds all the answers. ‘This is sort of her revenge, isn’t it? She’s taken the worst aspects of our characters and magnified them until that’s all the character is. But the weird thing is, she’s taken our characters as she knew them then, and I for one think I’ve changed immeasurably. We all have.’
‘Go on,’ I prompt, assured by Josh’s interpretation.
‘I was weak at university. I was insecure, had never been away from home, and so Portia’s decided that at thirty-something I would have to be a wimp. You were selfish at university, at times.’ He looks at me, and, although I don’t want to agree with him, I know it’s true.
‘But not when it came to Portia,’ he continues. ‘She was the weak spot for all of us, but you were often thoughtless, so she’s made you a self-obsessed adult.
‘And Steen.’ He looks at Si.
‘I know,’ says Si. ‘You don’t have to tell me I have a bitchy streak. I have calmed down, though, haven’t I?’ He looks at me, doubt written across his eyes. ‘You think I’m a nicer person now, don’t you, Cath?’
I reach over and hug him. ‘Of course,’ I say, smiling. ‘I think you’re lovely.’
‘Good,’ he says. ‘It’s good of you to be so selfless for a change.’