On Tuesday, 11th December, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 21:42:
Ted. I’m not quite sure what your motives are here. I’ve said before, we don’t really know each other. And as for “some guy,” my boyfriend will get in touch soon. Can you not see how this in itself is more drama than either of us needs?
On Tuesday, 11th December, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 21:43:
I wouldn’t keep you waiting.
I looked over at Diana, and she’d fallen asleep with the book on her face. I should have realized from the silence. I tried Maggie one more time, but when she didn’t answer, I moved Diana so that she was under the quilt. This woke her, because when I turned the light off and got in next to her, she turned to me.
“Queenie. I need a headscarf,” she whispered. “I won’t be able to sleep properly without one.”
“Oh. Sorry for waking you up,” I said, reaching into my bedside table for my spare headscarf. “Here you go.”
I heard her tie it in the dark, then she was silent. I closed my eyes.
“What happened to your boyfriend?” Diana’s words cut through the darkness. I thought that if I stayed quiet, she’d think I’d fallen asleep. “The white boy,” she pressed on. “The one who wasn’t, like, handsome, but kinda cute in, like, a white bae kind of way.”
“Tom?” I yielded.
“Yeah. Where’s he gone?”
“We’re on a break,” I said firmly.
“So you’ve broken up?”
“Nope. A break, like, some time out,” I corrected her. “It’s what adults do.”
“Well, have some you time, I guess. Anyway, it’s like my mum says. Men will just drain you.” I was worried she’d recite Maggie’s speech from the hospital. “You need to be ready before you let them come into your life. Maybe you weren’t ready.”
Was she old enough to be talking like this?
Queenie
Tom, this is shit. I miss you. It’s been almost three months. Have you had enough time yet?
* * *
He replied the next afternoon.
Tom
I’m sorry
After work, I met Ted in the park.
chapter
TEN
On Thursday, 13th December, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 17:21:
My mind is racing. x
On Thursday, 13th December, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 17:32:
Why? Calm down.
On Thursday, 13th December, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 17:36:
I’m being paranoid about everything. x
On Thursday, 13th December, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 17:40:
Like what? Nobody saw us.
On Thursday, 13th December, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 17:41:
What if they saw my hands up your skirt?? What if I’m put on some sort of register?
On Thursday, 13th December, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 17:43:
Sorry, I’m just being stupid. I just can’t believe it happened, after everything. x
On Thursday, 13th December, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 17:50:
Don’t worry about it. We couldn’t have been more covert.
He was annoying me now. I had loads of stuff to finish.
On Thursday, 13th December, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 17:55:
How are you feeling? x
On Thursday, 13th December, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 18:03:
Busy. Guilty.
Various stranger sex, fine. Catching feelings, not fine.
On the way back from work, I battled my way through Oxford Street and bought a present for Tom. Partly out of guilt, but mainly out of ritual. There were certain things I wouldn’t let slide, break or not. I’m trying to gear myself up to spending the “happy holidays” without him and his family for the first time in three years. At least I don’t have to choose his presents for his parents anymore. Or put up with casual family racism.
? ? ?
It was my second Christmas with Tom’s family. The novelty of a proper Christmas meal had worn off after last year, but I was still surprised by how many trimmings there were and that pork wasn’t just allowed in the house, but was allowed to be wrapped in another form of pork and eaten in one bite-size go.
“Now, here’s what we should do,” Tom’s aunt said. “We’re going to play a game. Found it in the attic.” She blew dust off of a board game and placed it on the coffee table in the middle of the room.
“Oh, I love a Christmas game!” Tom’s mum said. “Let me go and get some pens and paper. You can take score, can’t you, Stephen?” she said to her brother.
“Yes indeed.” He inched forward in his seat and hitched his trousers up at the knees. “We’ll need to get into teams, though,” he said, looking around the room.
I looked over at Tom to signal that we’d be teammates, but he was deep in conversation with his brother.
“How will we split this? I think . . .” Stephen said slowly, “that we should do dark shirts versus light shirts.” My heartbeat started to quicken. “What does everyone think?”
“Great!” Tom’s dad said, looking down at his white shirt. “That’s easy enough!”
I looked down at my white dress. “I’ll be with you, then,” I said, getting up to sit next to him.
“Mmm, not so fast, Queenie!” Stephen said. I felt my cheeks flush with heat. “Maybe you should keep score.” He smirked.
“I’m wearing a white dress,” I said, my voice very small.
“But technically there’s a bit more dark on you.” He laughed, looking around the room in the hope that everyone would join in.
“She’ll be on my team, Stephen,” Tom’s dad said, flashing me a consolatory smile.
? ? ?
chapter
ELEVEN
WHAT WAS IT about Christmastime and couples? It was making me completely miserable. Admittedly I was at a Hanukkah party, but the Christmas sentiment still stood. Everyone in this gigantic Islington townhouse was in a pair but me. And Cassandra. Saying that, they were all over fifty, so they’d had a bit of a head start to find someone, and half of them were on their second marriages.
Cassandra’s dad, the only adult man I’d ever trusted and also probably the actual main reason I endured Cassandra, asked me where Tom was every time he flitted past, tray in hand, and he finally stood still long enough for me to say, “We went on a break, Jacob. In October. But he won’t speak to me. He said he needed three months, but I think he needs more time. In your experience, how long are these things meant to last?” When Jacob looked at me in surprise, I removed the toothpick that I’d been chewing on from my mouth and spiked an olive with it angrily.
“Oh, you poor, poor dear. And how are you feeling?” Jacob abandoned his serving duties and sat down next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. All of the couples in the room turned to look at me.
“I feel lost. And confused,” I said quietly. “I thought that after a week without me, he’d be banging down my door.” I popped the olive into my mouth and turned to Cassandra on the other side of me, waiting for her to weigh in. She may as well not have been in the room because her eyes darted toward the door every three seconds as she waited for this new demigod boyfriend to get here.
“It’ll work itself out if it’s meant to,” Jacob said softly. “Oho! I think something is burning!” He jumped up and left the room, heading toward the kitchen.
“Hello? Cassandra?” I waved my hands in my friend’s face. “Remember me? You invited me here because we’ve been close for many years, and coming to Hanukkah is a tradition? You could actually talk to me!”
“I’m nervous, Queenie,” Cassandra said to me, folding and then unfolding her arms. “This is the first time that I’ve had a boyfriend long enough for him to meet the whole family, and you know what my family are like. All neurotic and flappy.” She stood up and smoothed the back of her dress. “How does it look?”
“Sounds like my family. Your bum?” I asked. “Fine? Nice, even.”