Alexandra, Gone

13

“Everybody’s Drunk”

I’ve been biding my time I ain’t that gone
maybe one or two or three or four or five or six too many
but it eases my mind and loosens my tongue,
so come on, sister, won’t you take my hand,
be my Alice I’ll be Wonderland.
Jack L, Universe

September 2008

The plane was late, which was typical. Jane paced the arrivals area from one end to the other. As the area was about half a mile long, Elle spotted her only every five minutes or so. Elle sat and read a magazine and drank a wheatgrass shot, hoping it would negate the damage she’d been doing to herself recently. Elle was on a binge, and every other night she’d be found in a nightclub dancing on a table, her top optional. She was living on a diet of champagne and morning fry-ups, and when Rose questioned her on her late comings and goings she merely replied that life was too short.
Jane appeared and asked the time and then she was gone. Elle flipped the page, and there was a shot of Vincent and his bride, and he was holding her tummy, and she knew the woman was pregnant before she even read the caption because the bloody pose was so obvious. She wasn’t even showing and had just had her twelve-week scan. I hope she loses it. She turned the page. She started to read an article about being kind to feet, but the interview with Vincent was calling to her.
Read me.
No. Go away.
You want to know what I’m doing and how happy I am.
I do not. I hope you get knocked down by a bus and dragged for a really long time.
You want me to confirm that I’m in a perfect happy relationship and that the reason we didn’t work was you and not me. I’m stable and you’re a lunatic. You need to read it. You need to understand that I’m so much better off without you.
“F*ck you, Vincent!” she screamed to a room full of strangers.
The woman beside her with two toddlers picked up three bags, hung them on a double stroller, and with a child holding on to each side of the pram scurried to a place far away from the vulgar mental case. Elle put her explosion down to excessive tiredness and promised herself that she would have a bath later and then an early night.
Minutes later Jane returned and flopped down beside her sister. “I think I’ve just walked about ten miles. Where the hell are they?”
They were more than an hour late, and after her walk Jane was hungry. She turned to her sister to ask if she’d like to join her for a bit of lunch upstairs, then spied Martha arriving. Martha spotted her immediately and waved wildly and bared that awful sinister Osmonds-on-acid smile.
“Oh no,” Jane said.
“What?” Elle said.
“That woman, Irene’s mother.”
Elle looked around and saw her approaching and rubbed her hands together. “Oh yeah, playtime.”
“Elle,” Jane warned, “play nice.”
“Absolutely,” Elle said, shaking her head to suggest that she was planning on doing absolutely the opposite.
“Jane,” Martha said and air-kissed her, “you look so refreshed after a couple of months without a teenager in the house.”
“Martha,” Jane said, subdued and refusing to respond to her stupid redundant and annoying air-kiss or her barbed compliment. “This is my sister, Elle.”
Elle grinned and remained in her seat. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said.
Martha sat in the seat opposite and removed her gloves. “All good, I hope.”
“Nope, all bad I’m afraid,” Elle said, smiling.
“Well,” Martha said, “aren’t you hilarious.”
“I try.” Elle smiled. “So, Martha, how are things with the kid you were screwing? Back together yet, or has he moved on to Betty White? I hear she’s a real goer.”
Martha got up and walked away without a word.
“You’re welcome!” Elle called after her as a grin spread across Jane’s face.
“Who’s Betty White?” Jane said.
“One of the Golden Girls.”
“I used to love The Golden Girls. Which one was Betty White?”
“Rose.”
“Ah, that’s right, a pleasant Rose. God, I wish she’d been our mother.”
Elle nudged her. “Jane.”
“Yeah?”
“Look.” Elle pointed to the arrivals gate and to her nephew, brown as a berry, his blond locks bleached white. He was waving.
Jane’s heart soared as she jumped to her feet and ran to him, managing to hurdle a suitcase in the process. They met at the barrier, and he dropped his bags, and they hugged and hugged and hugged.
“It’s good to be back, Mum.”
“Oh God, I missed you!” she said, and her eyes were full and of course she was crying because she always cried.
Elle was next to give her nephew a hug. “You look good,” she said. “Better be careful or Irene’s mother will make a move.”
Kurt laughed and looked back at Irene, whose reunion with her mother was slightly tamer and colder. Her mother air-kissed her and made her stand back so that she could look at her, and then she squeezed her for a second or so. Kurt turned to his mother and shook his head.
“Poor Irene,” he said. “I’d hate to be going back to that.”
Irene ran over to Jane and Elle and hugged them both far more warmly than she had her own mother.
“We had a ball—we’d do it again in the morning. Can you believe how well Kurt did in his exams? When we got our results we were sitting at a beach bar. Incredible. Can you believe he’s got Medicine and I’m going to be a nurse? I just scraped by, thank God. Oh Jane, this summer was the best time in our lives!”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Jane said.
“I have to go,” Irene said, and she seemed a little sad.
“I understand,” Jane said. “Come for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Great. I’ll have some photos by then.”
She kissed Kurt and ran off to join her mother, who was waiting by the door.
“Are you hungry?” Jane asked Kurt.
“I’d eat a scabby leg,” he said.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Did I tell you how proud I am?”
“About a million times, Mum.”
She put her arm around her son and together they walked to the airport restaurant, with Elle in tow pushing the cart carrying his bags.
Dominic arrived at Jane’s just after six. He ran up the steps, and Kurt was waiting by the door. They hugged warmly and Dominic messed Kurt’s bleached curls. “Jesus, son, albinos have darker hair!”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Great to have you home.”
“Sorry about Bella,” Kurt said as they walked into the kitchen.
“Never mind.” Dominic smiled at Jane. “Long time no see, stranger.”
She nodded. “Good to see you, Dominic.”
She was hoping her heart wouldn’t flutter. She hadn’t seen him in just over two months. She had not missed him once and had told herself categorically and in no uncertain terms that she was to stop loving him. She did feel a flutter—Damn you, Jane—and her pulse did race a little, and although this disappointed her, she managed to work out in those few seconds that even if she was still attracted to Dominic she didn’t love him. She had been glad of the distance, she had enjoyed it, and so she could live with a flutter now and then because they were only friends and that suited her just fine.
Jane cooked a family dinner to include Rose. Elle had made her excuses because Leslie needed help with something she wasn’t at liberty to divulge.
Rose promised to be on her best behavior around Dominic.
“I’m not a child, Jane. You don’t have to monitor my behavior.”
“Of course I do, Rose. You have the capacity to insult someone with a mere look. I just want this to be nice for Kurt.”
“And don’t you think I want it to be nice for Kurt? He is my grandson.”
“Fine, fine, but I’m warning you—do not bring up Bella.”
“Hmmmmmm,” Rose said.
At dinner Kurt talked about the various Greek islands he’d been to; he talked about Paris, Milan, Rome, Barcelona, and Amsterdam, at which point he shared a little knowing grin with his dad.
“I saw that,” Jane said.
“What?” Kurt said innocently.
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“What are you talking about?” Rose said.
“Nothing,” Jane said.
“Sex and drugs on every corner, Gran,” Kurt said.
“Well, do you hear that, Janey? Maybe you should get yourself to Amsterdam. God knows you could do with something to lift both your mood and your skirt.”
“Rose!” Jane screamed in exasperation, but Kurt and Dominic were holding themselves, they found it so funny.
Rose grinned at her daughter, who mouthed the words “You are dead, old woman.”
During dessert Kurt talked excitedly about doing Medicine at Trinity. He couldn’t believe he had gotten the scores necessary, because study was so boring that mostly he’d just played computer games.
“Your mother was like that,” Rose said. “When Janey was seven she got one of those kids’ encyclopedias that were so popular in the eighties. She read it in a week and I swear you could ask that kid any question and she’d know the answer. Remarkable, really.”
“My God, Rose, that’s the first nice thing I’ve heard you say about Jane ever,” Dominic said.
“I stated a fact, Dominic, and anyway, how’s your wife?”
“Rose!” Jane warned.
“She left me,” he said.
“Good for her,” Rose said. “I’d like to propose a toast to Bella—may she find herself a half-decent husband next time around!”
“That’s it! One more word from you and you’re going back to the basement,” Jane said.
Kurt leaned back on his chair. “I really missed this,” he said. “I love you, Gran.”
“I love you too, darling.”
They clinked glasses, and he drank his beer and she inhaled her wine, and it was just like he’d never been away.
Leslie walked out of the dressing room feeling monumentally self-conscious. She was wearing a red bikini bottom and a matching red flowing top picked out by Elle. Elle had also picked out a wide-brimmed white hat, but Leslie had refused to wear it.
“Well,” she said, gesturing to the bottom and top, “can you see?”
“No, I can’t see,” Elle said. “You look lovely. I told you red is your color.”
Leslie looked at herself in the mirror. The top had enough material to conceal the fact that she had no breasts, and instead she just looked flat-chested.
“Try it on in green,” Elle said.
“It will look the same,” Leslie argued.
“No, it will be a different color and that changes the outfit utterly,” Elle said.
Leslie went back into the dressing room. Elle’s phone buzzed and it was a text from Dominic. ?JUST HAD DINNER AT JANE’S. FEEL LIKE SHIT. WHAT ARE WE DOING?????? She put the phone back in her bag. Leslie appeared in the same outfit in green.
“Looks good,” Elle said. “Buy them both.”
“Really? I feel so exposed.”
“You’re going to be on a beach, not at the opera. Buy the clothes, please.”
“Okay.” Leslie took one last look at herself and secretly she was pleased. Although without clothes her body was broken, with clothes she looked quite good for her age. I can do this.
They spent another hour buying a holiday wardrobe for Leslie, then stopped off for coffee and a toasted sandwich in a coffee shop that Elle hadn’t been to since she was a student.
“It’s a bit grotty, isn’t it?” Leslie said.
“That’s character.”
Leslie sat on a bench and pushed the table toward Elle and fixed herself in the seat. “Since when has filth become character?” She pointed to a large cobweb in the corner.
“It’s a cobweb, Leslie, not a dangling bucket of shit.”
“And there goes my appetite.”
They were finishing their coffee when Elle confided what she was doing with Dominic.
“Two more coffees, please,” Leslie said to the waiter. “You are insane. Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know. I can’t help it. It makes me feel …”
“Feel what?” Leslie asked.
“It makes me feel, full stop.”
“Well, stop feeling because it will end in tears.”
“It was easy when Kurt was away, but now he’s back and that means that Dominic is back in Jane’s life. When Kurt was away we could pretend that it didn’t matter.”
“So stop.”
“So Jim’s all packed and ready for this sun holiday, is he?” Elle asked.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Excited, I bet.”
“Stop what you are doing,” Leslie said.
“I know, I know,” Elle said. “Stop what you’re doing with your nephew’s father, you hillbilly lunatic.”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly where I was going, but close enough.”
Leslie was leaving for her sun holiday with Jim the next day, and she was anxious about what she would wear, how she would look, how she’d feel, whether or not it was too soon, and how they would get on. She had thought many times about pulling out, but it had actually been Deborah who managed to talk her around one day when they met in the lobby.
“Why the face?” Deborah asked.
“I was born with it.”
“Oh ha ha ha. What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m having second thoughts about going on holiday.”
Leslie got into the lift. Deborah followed her and pushed the button for their floor.
“You’re going,” Deborah said.
“I’m scared,” said Leslie, “not to mention sore, tired, and itchy.”
Deborah’s demeanor softened. “You’ve been through a lot. You deserve to have fun.”
“But will it be fun?”
“I have no idea,” Deborah said, “but it will definitely beat sitting in that apartment of yours and staring at four walls.”
Leslie sighed. “I don’t do that so much anymore.”
“Not as much, but you still do it.”
“I’ll go, then.”
“I think you should.”
“So you’ll still mind the cat?”
“Yes, I’ll mind the stupid cat.”
“Will you be nice to her and give her at least one hug a day?”
“I’ll be nice as in I won’t kick her when I see her, but I will not hug her.”
“Will you let her rub against your leg?”
“Fine. I’ll let her rub against my leg.”
“Good,” Leslie said. “I’ll bring you back something special.”
“It better cost more than twenty euros.”
Leslie laughed and entered her apartment.
Jim picked her up in his car and they drove to the long-term car park and got a bus to the terminal. Leslie checked her handbag for her passport and tickets so many times that Jim took them off her. They put their bags through and went straight to their gate, where they had time for a small lunch.
Leslie was extremely nervous and kept tapping her fingers on the table.
Jim placed his hand on hers. “Relax,” he said, “we are going to have a great time.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I’ve just remembered I hate flying.”
Jim laughed at her and promised that if she got too nervous he’d share his stash of Valium.
“Why do you have Valium?”
“Oh, the doctor gave them to me after Imelda died.”
“That was over ten years ago.”
“Yeah but pills don’t go off, do they?”
“I think they do, Jim.”
“Oh.”
“Still, give me one anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, but only one.”
“Fine,” she said.
He opened his bag and tapped a few Valium into his hand, she grabbed two and swallowed them without water, and an hour later she floated onto the plane.
Jane spent the day with the party organizers. The tent had arrived and was being erected in the back garden. Rose had spent much of the morning shouting at the men to watch her various plants. The booze had arrived and the catering team had set up a good-sized bar. The dance floor had lights flashing around it, and the DJ arrived good and early to do a sound check. Dominic kept Kurt entertained for the day because although his belated eighteenth birthday party was no surprise, Jane wanted everything to be perfect when he walked through the door. Irene arrived late in the afternoon to see if there was anything she could help with, but Jane was pretty happy that everything was right on track, and instead they enjoyed coffee on the patio together because thankfully in September it had stopped raining. They talked about the party plans, and Irene was so excited she broke into a clap every now and again. When they were all talked out on the party theme, Jane broached the subject of how Irene was getting on at home.
“It’s good,” she said.
“You can come back here anytime.”
“Thanks, Jane. I know you don’t think much of my mum, but she’s not half as bad as you think.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“She doesn’t make a good first impression.”
Or a second, Jane thought.
“She was painfully shy up to her early twenties, so sometimes when she’s nervous she overcompensates. She was really upset when we got back from the airport.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She thinks everyone is laughing at her. She feels foolish. She was married to my dad for twenty-five years, he meets someone online, and she’s a laughingstock. It’s hard for her.”
“She’s not a laughingstock.”
“I wish she believed that.”
“She’ll recover.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because people do.”
“I hope so,” Irene said. “I hate seeing her so sad. That guy might have been a user, but at least he was a distraction.”
“I really like you, Irene.”
“I really like you too, Jane, but next time you meet my mum, go easy on her.”
“Promise.”
“And Elle?”
“I’ll hold her back.”
Piped music played from eight onward, people started to arrive around nine, the caterers served drinks to anyone with a passable fake ID, and the kids were going through canapés like there was no tomorrow. Jane was dressed and ready to join the guests, but she waited for her son and his dad. They arrived just before ten. The place was full, lights were flashing, and the music was rocking. Kurt jigged down the steps into his back garden, where his friends were sitting around drinking and having a ball. The group of his closest friends all howled when he approached, and they bent over with arms stretched in honor of his excellent party. He played it cool, kissing his girlfriend and slapping his pals’ hands. Jane watched from the kitchen window with Dominic over her shoulder.
“You’ve done a pretty good job there,” he said.
“Despite myself.”
“You’re always so hard on yourself.”
“He’s special, isn’t he?”
“I think so.”
“My heart is full,” she said.
Tom appeared behind Dominic with a large boxed present, and Jane spotted his reflection through the glass.
“Tom!” She turned to him. “Thanks for coming.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it.”
She hugged him. “You didn’t need to bring a present.”
“Yeah, well, I hope he likes it,” Tom said while maintaining eye contact with Dominic.
“I’m Dominic.” Dominic offered his hand.
“Tom.” Tom took Dominic’s hand and shook it.
“I was really sorry to hear about Alexandra,” Dominic said, putting his arm around Jane. “She was a good friend to us.”
“She was a good friend to me—she hated you,” Jane said.
Tom laughed.
“Only toward the end,” Dominic said.
“No,” Jane said, shaking her head, “way before that. She thought you were a vain stuck-up brat.”
“I’m leaving now,” Dominic said. “It was nice to meet you, Tom.”
“You too.”
Tom turned and smiled at Jane, and Dominic noticed a look in her eye that had once been reserved for him. He walked down into the garden and said hello to a few of Kurt’s friends, and once he made sure the caterers were happy and all was well, he snuck down to Elle’s cottage and knocked on her door.
Tom and Jane mingled with Kurt’s friends, and when she asked him to dance he was horrified and she made fun of him until he relented. Two minutes on the floor and she agreed that it had been a bad idea. They sat and watched Kurt and Irene dance wildly around the floor with their hands in the air.
“It seems like a lifetime ago,” he said.
“For me it was a lifetime, Kurt’s lifetime.”
“Alexandra was so desperate for a baby. We tried everything. I wanted to just skip it all and adopt, but she was determined to have her own. She wanted to feel life inside her.”
“Yeah, well, it was a long time ago, but I hated it. The sickness, the constipation—my God, no one tells you about that—the gas, the heartburn, the backache, the pressure on your bladder …oh, the hemorrhoids, and did I mention the heartburn?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “You paint such a beautiful picture.”
“I don’t remember enjoying one bit of my pregnancy and, if I’m honest, the first year or two of Kurt’s life were from hell, but after that something inside me clicked. It took its time to click, but when it did I could never go back to a time without him, you know?”
“No,” he said, “but I’d like to experience that someday.”
Alexandra had been missing sixty-four weeks and three days and it was the first day that Tom had expressed a wish for the future, and it was a future in which he envisaged himself with Jane and not his wife. The thought was momentary but profound.
Jane wasn’t living inside of Tom’s head and so didn’t perceive the juggernaut of emotions that had borne down on him with that statement and the accompanying vision that he hid so well.
“I just don’t know if I could do it again,” she said, staring at her son mooning a friend. “My God, I have no idea how I did it the first time.”
“You’re a great mother, despite forgetting him outside a shop when he was a baby and threatening to beat up his bully.”
“And don’t forget breaking my toe when I was kicking down his door—that was an especially proud moment.”
“How could I? That image will last a lifetime.”
The clock turned to midnight, and the caterer approached Jane and asked her to step outside. Standing there, with a cake the size of a shopping center, was Dominic.
Elle was lighting the eighteen candles. The lighter had run out, and she kept shaking it and cursing. “We should have just got the one and the eight. Eighteen actual candles are so tacky.”
“I want to see him blow out eighteen candles,” Jane said, and she grabbed the lighter from Elle and shook it hard. She got a few more lit, and then she began lighting one off the other.
“My back is breaking,” Dominic said.
When all eighteen candles were lit, Elle signaled to the DJ and he played “Happy Birthday,” and Dominic and Jane walked in holding the cake. Kurt was left standing in the middle of the dance floor alone as all his friends abandoned him. He covered his face and then blew out his candles. Everybody clapped, and Jane and Dominic took the cake over to the side, where the caterer started to cut it.
“This is where we decipher who’s drunk and who’s stoned,” Dominic said. “Cake eaters, stoned; non—cake eaters, pissed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said.
“You’re such a square, Janey,” Elle said, gorging on cake. “Yum,” she said, and she giggled.
After midnight everything got a little crazy. Jane was surrounded by sixty drunk teenagers and was feeling a little worse for wear herself. Tom was on his fifth whiskey, and even though there was plenty of food he wouldn’t touch any of it.
“Do you want to get some air?” she asked when the tent got so hot there was steam coming off the teenagers’ heads.
“Yes, please.”
They walked outside into the cool air.
“That’s better,” he said. “You know, I’d love a cup of coffee.”
“I’d love a cup of tea,” she admitted, “but I haven’t seen Elle in a while, so first I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“You mean you’re checking up on her.”
“Did you see how much wine she was pouring down her throat? It was like looking at Rose.”
“Where is Rose?”
“Her pal’s house. She doesn’t like groups of teenagers—says they bring out the devil in one another.”
“Right.” Tom headed up to the house to put the kettle on.
Elle’s light was on, so Jane walked inside. The kitchen was empty, as was the sitting room. She called out and heard movement coming from the bedroom. To make sure that Elle wasn’t getting sick, she opened the door and saw Dominic attempt to cover his face with the duvet. Elle just sat there as though Dominic wasn’t in the bed beside her, hiding when he’d already been seen.
“Hi, Janey,” Elle said.
“I don’t believe it.”
Dominic took the duvet down from his face. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t mind, do you, Janey?” Elle said. “You’re over him, you’ve moved on.”
“Shut up, Elle.”
“Jane, look …”
“Shut up, Dominic.”
“Janey, relax!” Elle said.
“I’m finished with both of you,” Jane said. “Completely and utterly finished.”
“What does that mean?” Elle said.
“It means that you are on your own.”
She closed the door and walked out of the cottage and through the garden past all the drunken teenagers, two of whom were puking in her mother’s rosebushes and one of whom was taking a pee on the graves of Elle’s dead gerbils, Jeffrey, Jessica, Judy, and Jimmy. She walked into her kitchen, and Tom was waiting with fresh coffee and tea and was surprised when she slammed the door. She covered her face and then her mouth, and then she sniffed and sat down.
“What happened?”
“Dominic and my sister happened.”
“They were together?”
“Yes, Tom, they were together in bed postcoitus.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Everybody is always sorry. Don’t you get pissed off with people being sorry?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Me too. I am so f*cking sick of being sorry, feeling sorry, and having people feel sorry for me.”
“Me too.”
“Dominic is an a*shole, he can’t help it, I’ve always known and I’ve always put up with it. But Elle, it’s not her. Elle may be a lot of things, but she has always been kind, never cruel, and this is cruel—she doesn’t even like him.”
“Drink some tea.”
“I don’t f*cking want any f*cking tea.”
“That’s two ‘f*cking’s in the space of three seconds. I think you need some tea.”
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay, you’re just upset.”
“I don’t love him.”
“I know.”
“I just don’t understand why Elle would do that.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I’m finished with her. I have picked up after her since she was a kid, I’ve put her ahead of me every step of the way. I didn’t ask for much, in fact I don’t remember ever asking for or wanting anything but Dominic. She knew what she was doing. So I’m finished with her.”
Tom handed her the tea. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
She shook her head. “No, I won’t.”
“It’s going to be fine,” he said.
“How could she do that?” she said.
And it was then that she burst into tears and sobbed and rattled in Tom’s arms until she was empty, and when she stopped crying he kissed her and it took her aback, especially as he was in such close proximity and she had puffy eyes, tear-burned cheeks, and, she suspected, a runny nose. It felt really nice and so she kissed him, and then they were both kissing each other for a minute or two or ten, and then he pulled away and under his breath he said he was sorry.
“Yeah,” she said, and she sniffled a little. “Of course you are.”
He walked out of the kitchen and out of her house, leaving Jane alone staring out at her son and his pals having the time of their lives. She walked into her bedroom and locked the door and laid her head on her pillow and cried into it until it caused her actual physical pain to continue. Where the hell did it all go wrong?
Two days after Kurt’s party, Leslie returned home from holiday. She was tanned and relaxed and even happy. Despite being sore, tired, itchy, and sometimes emotional, she’d had the time of her life. They laid on the beach, and while she slept under the sun her body and mind healed themselves. They drank wine in the evenings, ate beautiful food while looking at beautiful scenery, and armed with the clothes carefully chosen by Elle she didn’t feel odd or weird or freakish once.
In fact she felt good, especially when she caught the eye of a few locals, and one particular waiter attempted to chat her up every time Jim left the table.
She enjoyed Jim’s company, they had fun together, it was easy and freeing, they talked when they had something to say and other times they just relaxed in silence. Leslie’s mood had improved one hundred percent, she felt better, she looked better, the hormones were obviously kicking in, and a confidence she hadn’t known she had was coming to the fore. Jim called it “survivor’s confidence.” She liked that. She liked Jim, and he was more than family. Leslie Sheehan was falling in love.