I hit him, and he squeezes my leg and gives me a long, smoochy kiss on the cheek.
‘Revenge for what?’ asks Dan, intrigued, as a silence falls and we all start to look slightly shifty.
‘It’s a long story,’ Lucy says matter-of-factly, able to do so because she wasn’t involved, she simply heard about it many years later. Josh sat her down and told her, late one night, when they were having a conversation about first loves. Portia was his first love, he told her. She broke his heart and it took him a long time to recover, but it was all in the past now, and anyway, he hadn’t seen her for years.
‘A story for another time,’ Lucy says brightly. The disappointment shows on Dan’s face, but he’s polite enough not to push the point.
‘So what about Portia?’ Si asks finally, when he’s disengaged his lips from my face. ‘Is she the breathtaking Mercedes? Perfect on the outside but unable to find lurrve?’
‘Who knows,’ shrugs Dan. ‘She’s very beautiful, but I only met her the few times she came to my flat with interior designers and stuff.’
‘Interior designers,’ I smile. ‘So Portia.’
‘I can give you my old number if you like,’ Dan says suddenly. ‘I don’t think she changed it, and it seems like you’d all like to get back in touch.’ He smiles. ‘If for nothing else but to shout at her.’
‘No, no,’ says Josh. ‘It was all a long time ago.’ I see him shoot a worried glance at Lucy, but she doesn’t look bothered in the slightest.
‘We were just curious.’ Si’s voice is nonchalant. ‘That’s all.’
‘I’d like her number,’ I find myself saying, even though I hadn’t planned for those words to come out of my mouth. ‘What?’ I turn to Josh and Si, demanding to know why they are so shocked. ‘What?’
‘Bugger!’ shouts Lucy, jumping up and knocking her chair halfway across the kitchen. ‘Bloody bread and butter pudding.’
This evening brings up so many memories for all of us. Si and I walk back to my flat in silence, both immersed in thoughts of Portia, memories of our gang, the strength of our love for one another.
‘I do still miss her, you know,’ Si says softly into my ear, as he’s hugging me goodbye.
I pull back and look at him. ‘Maybe that’s why we met Dan tonight. Everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it, Si? Maybe I was supposed to get her number. Maybe none of us is supposed to miss her any more.’
Chapter five
I lose my nerve. It’s not that I don’t try, I do. For the last two weeks I’ve picked up the phone at least twice a day, Portia’s scribbled number on a scrap of paper, mocking me from the table next to the telephone. I’ve even got as far as dialling all seven digits, but as soon as the phone starts to ring, I slam it down, not knowing what to say, heart pounding and breath coming in short, sharp spasms.
It’s only Portia, I keep telling myself. It’s not like I’m ringing someone up to have a confrontation, which seems to be the only other time my heart pounds and my breath is used up by fear. I’m only ringing her to catch up. There’s nothing scary about Portia.
‘Well?’ Si asks, as he has now asked on a daily basis. ‘Have you done it yet?’
‘Yes,’ I say earnestly, slowly. ‘And I decided not to tell you that in fact I saw her last week, because I didn’t think you’d be interested.’
‘God, you’re being such a wimp,’ Si says. ‘If it were me, I’d just pick up the phone and call her.’
‘Go on, then,’ I push the phone towards him. ‘There’s the number. Do it.’
It’s a Thursday night, the night of Portia’s series, and though Si has been coming over to my place to watch it for months, since our new-found discovery these evenings have taken on a greater significance.
We have still, these last couple of weeks, kicked off our shoes, curled up on the sofa, and pigged out on takeaway Chinese for an hour before the show starts. But now, instead of laughing our way through, we are glued to the screen, desperately searching for clues to our own characters.
Earlier this evening we sat in silence, just the blue flickering screen lighting up the concentration on our faces.
‘I’d never say that,’ Si exclaimed indignantly, after Steen emerged with a particularly bitchy line.
‘No one’s saying you would.’ I rubbed his back gently, eyes still fixed on the show, waiting for Katy to come back in.
‘Jesus,’ I whistled a few minutes later. ‘I know it’s meant to be funny, but she is so selfish. I’m not like that, am I?’
‘Sssh,’ urged Si. ‘Here comes Steen again.’
And now it’s over, and Si grabs the phone and dials the number, giving away nothing, looking as if he’s just phoning Josh, just for a chat.
I watch his face intently, waiting for him to become animated, but he shakes his head after a few seconds and puts down the phone.
‘Answer phone.’
‘What? Didn’t you listen? What does her voice sound like? What does it say?’
I grab the phone from him and press redial, and, although I know what will happen, why I’m phoning, it is nevertheless a shock to hear Portia’s voice, and I would know that voice anywhere.
I’m so sorry neither of us can get to the phone. Leave a message and we’ll get back to you. Thanks for calling.
‘Neither of us?’ I look at Si. ‘Why didn’t you say she said “neither of us”? That means she’s married.’
‘And what decade are you living in?’ Si is horrified. ‘The fifties?’
‘Okay, not necessarily married, but living with someone, then.’
‘Could be her flatmate,’ Si says.
‘Right.’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘Because we do have flatmates when we’re thirty-one and earning packets of money.’
‘We do if we’re lonely,’ Si says seriously, and it shocks me that Portia might be lonely, and I want to step in and stop her loneliness. ‘Actually,’ Si says, looking pensive, ‘it could just be for security. There was an article in Cosmo about looking after yourself, and it said that if you lived on your own you should always refer to “we” or “us” on an answer phone to deter potential burglars.’
‘Cosmo!’ I shriek with laughter. ‘Jesus, Si, aren’t you a bit old for Cosmo?’
‘I didn’t buy it.’ Si looks shifty. ‘I just happened to pick it up at a friend’s house.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I grin. ‘A likely story.’
‘Look,’ Si says, gesturing at the phone, ‘this is the perfect opportunity. You want to talk to her, but you don’t actually want to talk to her, and I know you’re terrified of how she’ll react. I am too. This way you can leave a message, and then it’s up to her. She may not call, but at least if she does you’ll know it’s because she wants to.’
I grab the phone, hit the redial button and listen to her message again, trying to smile so that I sound cheerful, happy, successful, and keeping a hand on my heart to try to calm down.
Beeeeeep.
‘Portia, hi. Umm. This is, umm, quite strange, hearing your voice on the machine.’ Si rolls his eyes at me. ‘I mean, it’s not strange, because it’s your machine, but we haven’t spoken for ages. Years. Your name came up the other night at dinner – we met Dan, umm, the guy who sold you his flat, and it’s just that we were wondering how you were, and it would be really nice to see you, to catch up. Anyway, umm, give me a call, if you want. Oh. It’s Cath, by the way… beeep.’
‘Shit!’
I redial, feeling like an idiot. ‘Sorry. Your machine cut me off, but do call me, it would be lovely to hear from you…’ I put the phone down, feeling incredibly pleased with myself.