Is that sadness I can see, marring his features? I don’t think the name Reg Bishop has ever been spoken aloud in this house before today.
‘I’m going to talk to him,’ I say. ‘But it’s just about finding Dot, nothing else. I don’t want you to worry.’
I’ve turned away while I speak and when I look back over my shoulder, the sofa’s empty. What did I expect? Olly gets up and sniffs around, and I wonder for a second whether he can sense something, or whether he’s just been disturbed by me talking to myself. He comes to me and I think perhaps he’ll finally let me give him a bit of fuss, but when I reach to scratch him underneath his chin – his favourite spot, according to Arthur – he backs away.
I stare at the page on the notebook where I wrote his name and telephone number. Could he possibly know anything about Dot, about where she went? I doubt it, but I’ve been waiting for something to happen, and perhaps this is it.
20
‘First round’s on me,’ Kirsty says, rushing off to the bar before anyone can protest. She hasn’t even asked us what we want.
The Carpenters is busy and loud. I can almost hear Arthur asking What did you expect? Although I think he’d be so shocked by this turn of events – me out for drinks on a Friday night with three new friends – that I actually can’t predict what he’d say. I almost called it off when they came to collect me, almost told them to go on without me. They all look so glamorous and though I spent a long time choosing my outfit, I know I look frumpy and old beside them. Kirsty must have realised I was wobbling because she asked if I had any lipstick and painted my lips bright red, and it didn’t make me look younger but it gave me the confidence to go, somehow. And it was strange, while she was standing there, inches from my face, concentrating, the minty scent of her breath reaching my nostrils, with Julie and Patricia chatting in the background, I felt so happy to be a part of something. But now we’re here and I can’t see any tables free and I’m wondering again if this was a good idea.
We used to come here, Dot and Bill and Arthur and me. It wasn’t called The Carpenters then. It was The Boot. You wouldn’t know it was the same place. Dot and I would have a gin and tonic and make it last all evening, and the men would have two or three pints. Dot wasn’t a big fan of it, spending the evening like that. She said it felt like we were waiting to go somewhere and do something, rather than the pub being the main event. She loved dancing, that was what it was. Loved moving, chatting, walking. She found standing around in a pub boring. I look around, as if there’s a chance I’ll see her, over there by the slot machine where there used to be a jukebox, choosing something by Elvis or Buddy Holly, grabbing hold of someone’s wrists and starting to dance in the middle of the pub.
Julie marches off and then waves Patricia and me over, and she’s found a little tucked away table and I’m relieved but I just hope we won’t miss Martin altogether. I thought about letting Patricia or Kirsty in on the secret, but I think it will be more authentic if I’m the only one who knows. I’m good at keeping a straight face, at not letting on. I’ve been doing it all my life.
Kirsty arrives carrying a tray with four fancy cocktail glasses. The drinks are clear and decorated with olives. It’s a long time since I’ve had anything other than a sherry but I decide one or two won’t hurt.
‘What is it?’ Patricia asks.
‘Gin martini,’ Kirsty says, sliding the tray onto the table and unloading the glasses. ‘You can’t go wrong with a classic.’
‘Well, cheers,’ Julie says, lifting her glass. ‘To friendship.’
‘To friendship,’ we repeat.
It makes me think about what friendship is. About Dot, about Arthur, about these women around the table with me now. It can be all kinds of things. It can save your life.
‘It smells funny in here,’ I say.
‘Like what?’ Julie asks.
I try to put my finger on it. ‘Sweat and urine, mostly. Pubs just used to smell of smoke, which was bad enough, but I think this is worse.’
‘Oh my god,’ Julie says.
She’s seen him. Her face has paled but she’s looking great. That sharp new haircut and an animal-print dress Kirsty helped her choose that really shows off her curves. A slash of bright lipstick. She’s a new woman. Not that there was anything wrong with the old version, but men can be so visual and stupid.
Kirsty and Patricia have swivelled around on their chairs, but of course they don’t know him, so all they see is a crowd.
‘It’s Martin,’ Julie says.
‘Martin? Your Martin? Is he with her?’ Kirsty asks. She makes the word ‘her’ sound like the worst kind of insult.
‘No, he’s with his mate, Jamie. Oh my god, what are the chances?’
I turn, then, and have a proper look at him. He’s not bad-looking. He’s just very ordinary.
‘I’m going over there,’ Julie says. ‘I can’t spend all night hiding, can I? Better to pre-empt it.’
None of us says anything, and she gets up and goes. I’m impressed with how decisive she is.
We watch them in silence, trying to be discreet. He’s clearly surprised to see her, but he gives her a hug that seems warm.
‘What do you think?’ Kirsty asks. ‘Good news or bad news?’
‘She wants him back,’ I say. ‘She’s always mooning about. And you can’t get back with someone without seeing them, can you?’
Kirsty narrows her eyes at me, as if she thinks I might have had something to do with this but she can’t quite work out what, and I just smile politely and ask if she’s ready for another drink.
By the time we have our second drinks in our hands, Julie’s back. She’s flushed and a bit giddy, as if she’s already had one too many.
‘So?’ Kirsty asks, and we put our heads in close for her to fill us in, as if he would stand a chance of hearing our conversation at the other end of a busy pub.
‘He didn’t mention her,’ Julie says. ‘But then he wouldn’t, I suppose. He offered to buy me a drink. It was all very amicable.’
‘And there’s been no talk of selling the house yet, or anything like that, has there?’ I ask.
Julie looks a bit shocked. ‘No. God, I’d hate to leave that house.’
‘Well, hopefully you won’t have to.’
‘What do you mean? Do you think…?’ She’s unable to say it, this thing she most hopes for.
‘I think you’ll be back together by Christmas,’ I say.
Patricia does a quick shake of her head, but I pretend I don’t see it. And Julie looks a bit unsure, a bit lost. I push her drink towards her and she smiles gratefully.
Time to turn my attention to Kirsty. I’m still not sure what’s happening with her but I think it’s got to be to do with the family she doesn’t see.
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ I ask her.
She looks a bit shifty. ‘A sister,’ she says.
‘Oh, that’s nice, I always wanted a sister,’ I say. It’s not true. I was more than happy with Bill. ‘Do you see her much?’
‘No.’
I think she’ll go on but she doesn’t.