I wrote, ‘It’s not like I can bring him up if I don’t know about him’, and then deleted it.
Caddy Oliver Don’t friends tell each other stuff like this?
Suzanne Watts Don’t make it into a big deal. It’s not a big deal. That’s why I didn’t tell you.
Caddy Oliver So there is a reason?
Suzanne Watts God
Suzanne Watts This isn’t the best way to talk about this.
Caddy Oliver ?
Suzanne Watts This is stressing me out. Can’t we just talk about it when we see each other?
Caddy Oliver Fine
Suzanne Watts Are you pissed off with me?
I wanted to tell her that, yes, I was kind of pissed off with her. That friends told each other everything, even (especially?) things that weren’t a big deal. That thinking that I’d called her while she was with a guy I didn’t even know about to do her a favour made me feel like an idiot. I wrote, ‘No.’
Suzanne Watts Are you sure?
Caddy Oliver Yes.
Suzanne Watts If you are, I’d rather you just told me.
Caddy Oliver OK
Suzanne Watts Wouldn’t you want me to tell you if I was pissed off?
Caddy Oliver I guess
Suzanne Watts I’m pissed off.
Caddy Oliver What? Why? With me?
My stomach, previously knotted, had clenched painfully and my heart was pounding. My palms felt cold and clammy. I was absolutely useless at confrontation of any kind, digital or otherwise. The fact that Suzanne was in a different street made no difference to the effect the conversation was already having on me.
Suzanne Watts Why are you talking to Rosie about me behind my back?
Caddy Oliver We weren’t talking about you.
Suzanne Watts Seriously??
Caddy Oliver That’s not what I mean. Wait.
Suzanne Watts Waiting.
My throat had tightened. I flexed my fingers over the keys, wondering if she’d believe me if I disconnected my Internet and told her it had just gone down.
Caddy Oliver We were talking about last night and I just asked her if she knew where you were when I rang you.
Suzanne Watts Couldn’t you just ask me?
Caddy Oliver Would you have told me?
Suzanne Watts Of course!
Caddy Oliver I didn’t get a chance to ask you anyway Suzanne Watts Phone? Text? Facebook?
Caddy Oliver I’m sorry
Suzanne Watts That’s all you needed to say.
Suzanne Watts And just be honest. I know you’re mad I didnt tell you about Dylan. Just say so.
Caddy Oliver I’m not mad
Suzanne Watts Caddy! Ffs, we’re friends, you can say anything to me. If I know you’re mad I can say sorry and we can get over it. If you don’t say it, I’m just like . . . is Caddy mad at me?
Caddy Oliver I know.
Caddy Oliver Next time can you just tell me when it happens? So I don’t hear it from Roz? And then make you mad?
Suzanne Watts Yes.
Caddy Oliver And don’t be upset that Rosie and I talked about you a bit on the phone. That happens, right? I’m sure you and Roz talk about me when I’m not around.
Suzanne Watts Well, maybe we would if there was anything to say.
It was like she’d reached out a hand through my laptop screen and slapped me around the face. The shock of her words froze my fingers over my keyboard, a hot flush working its way up my neck and across my face. Ridiculous tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked to keep them at bay.
And at the same time I was thinking, You’re overreacting, chill out, why are you crying, people say this stuff all the time. Don’t cry.
Below her name, the ‘. . .’ appeared. I panicked, not wanting to read another insult or even an apology, and closed the browser. For a few seconds I just stared at my desktop screen, the words she’d written on a loop in my head.
There’s something uniquely upsetting about having your deepest insecurities not just laid bare by a friend but thrown in your face. I knew I was not in any way exciting, that there was nothing going on in my life that could be remotely confused with interesting. I’d always worried that this made me boring and that that was what people thought of me: Caddy Oliver – nice, but dull. And now, clearly, that was true.
What’s more, I’d thought we’d reached the conclusion of our mini-fight and were in the conciliatory stage. I’d been even more unprepared than I would have been earlier. And, worst of all, I’d never thought that Suzanne would be so suddenly and unexpectedly mean. Not just bitchy or sarcastic with me, which was completely normal, but outright mean. I’d never say anything like that to her. What did it say about her that she would to me?
My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, hesitated, then clicked on the message.
‘Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. Call me please? Suze x’