Читать книгу The Birthday Girl: The gripping new psychological thriller full of shocking twists and lies - Sue Fortin, Sue Fortin - Страница 7

Friendships are made up of all the little things that matter, the common ground of lives, shared interests, loves, dislikes, the highs and the lows. They matter and they are matter. Like stars in the night sky, friends can light up the darkness. Sometimes we might forget they are there and yet know they will always be there. Others can come in a burst, dazzling us with the excitement of newness, seducing us with promises of adventure. Some will deliver on this promise, others will fizzle away while some will shoot across the night sky in one last hurrah before they dis-appear from our lives.

I think of my best friends, I can count them on one hand with digits to spare. Joanne, Andrea and Zoe are the stars in my night sky. Together, we make a good constellation. We stick by each other. We look out for each other. We forgive each other.

I remind myself of the last fact as I hold the invitation in my hand, knowing that I should accept, with grace and maturity, the olive branch it represents.

Dear Carys, Zoe and Andrea

My Fortieth Birthday Celebrations

Come and join me for an adventure weekend, full of

mysteries and surprises, the like of which you can’t imagine.

With the grand reveal on Sunday evening.

Friday 8 September – Monday 11 September

Meet at Chichester Cathedral 09.00 Friday morning

Love Joanne

P.S. As it’s also Carys’s birthday on the Monday,

I thought we could celebrate that as well.

Two months ago, Joanne had told us to save the date, or rather the weekend, and said she’d let us know nearer the time what was happening. I could have quite happily ignored my thirty-ninth birthday, but Joanne had been insistent the weekend was to be a double celebration. She also insisted that, despite it being her birthday, the whole weekend was to be a surprise for me too. I had hoped we’d find out the details sooner and, I have to admit, leaving it until the night before is cutting it fine but she has steadfastly refused to give us any more details until now.

I flip the card over and see there is a handwritten message, the tall spiky writing unmistakably Joanne’s.

I sit down at the kitchen table and read the invitation again. I’m not sure what it is about the PPS on the reverse, but it sounds … odd. I think that’s the best way I can describe it. I mull over the significance but before I can settle on anything meaningful, my mobile rings.

Andrea Jarvis’s name flashes across the screen.

‘Hiya,’ I say, kicking off my running shoes. Flakes of dried mud from my afternoon cross-country run scatter across the tiled floor like dirty snowflakes. I sigh inwardly at the mess. Sometimes I’m no better than my teenage son. Stepping over the debris, I go to the fridge, hook out a bottle of wine and pour myself a glass, something I would normally reserve for a Friday night, but seeing as we’re off on our jolly tomorrow, I feel a drop of alcohol is justified. ‘Don’t tell me, you’ve seen the invitation.’

‘Too bloody right,’ says Andrea. ‘Did you get the PPS on yours?’

‘Where it says about making amends?’

‘What is that all about?’

I shrug even though Andrea can’t see this action. ‘No idea. Maybe, she just really wants us to go. Maybe she thought we’d change our minds now that it looks like it’s going to be an outdoor adventure type of weekend.’

‘I’m not bothered about that,’ says Andrea. ‘It’s not like we haven’t done this sort of thing before. Last year we all did that charity walk up Snowdon. Before that, the mountain bike trail. You’ll be in your element anyway.’

It’s true, I am an adventure junkie and working at the local outward-bound centre tends to satisfy my addiction for kayaking, rock climbing and the like these days. I also help with the outdoor activities for the Duke of Edinburgh Award, so I’m not particularly fazed by the prospect of what Joanne has in store for us. ‘It’s going to be like a busman’s holiday for me,’ I say. ‘And you’ll be OK yourself.’

‘Yeah, that’s as maybe, but I’m stuck behind the desk most days since I took over the gym. I headed up a high-impact aerobics class the other day and thought my legs were going to seize up afterwards.’

‘You’ll be fine. Have you spoken to Zoe about the invite?’ I ask, taking my seat at the table again. I glance at the official-looking letter which was also waiting on the doormat when I got in this evening and push it to one side to read later.

‘She hasn’t a clue what it means either. But she’s gone into full-on cute Labrador puppy mode. All excited – can’t wait for the weekend and thinks Joanne is utterly wonderful.’

I give a small laugh into my glass as Andrea does a perfect imitation of Zoe, whose voice gets squeakier the more excited and enthusiastic she gets about anything. ‘It’s too late to change your mind,’ I say.

‘It would be awful if I was struck down with a stomach bug, though,’ says Andrea.

‘Don’t even think about it. We made a deal, remember?’

‘I might have been under the influence of alcohol when I did that one-for-all-and-all-for-one shit.’

‘You promised and you can’t break a promise. Not to one of your best friends. Besides, it’s my birthday too.’

‘I think that’s called blackmail.’

I laugh as I imagine the scowling look on Andrea’s face. ‘No, seriously, Andrea. You can’t back out now. Joanne will kill you.’

‘Hmm. When she said it was a surprise, I was hoping it would be more of a spa weekend. You know, fluffy white dressing gowns, manicures. Lots of pampering and relaxation.’

‘Look, like I said before, I think this is her way of making up for being so distant lately.’ In saying this, I silently acknowledge that I’m referring more to the way my own relationship with Joanne has been in recent times. We had once been so close, but things happened and the balance of our friendship shifted, leaving a hiatus in our alliance.

There’s a small silence while we both contemplate the sentiment of the weekend. Andrea speaks first. ‘I suppose I owe it to her. You know, give her a chance to make up for the way she’s been since I took on the gym.’

‘Is all that still going on between you two? I thought the dust had settled.’

‘Sort of. I’ve certainly drawn a line under it all, but not Joanne. I have this sense that she’s still angry at me. I can’t put my finger on it or explain it, but when I speak to her, it’s like an undercurrent of tension. Do you know what I mean?’

‘Mmm … I do.’ Andrea could be describing my own relationship with Joanne.

‘Anyway, as I say, I’ll give her a chance to make amends, but if she starts again, about having to work for me now instead of being a partner, I’m sorry, I won’t be keeping my mouth shut. Fortieth birthday or not.’

‘And when do you ever keep your mouth shut, my darling?’ I say.

‘I think I did once, in 1986 – I might be wrong though,’ says Andrea with a laugh. ‘Anyway, so now you’re not letting me skive off, we’d better sort out what’s happening tomorrow. Is Alfie still coming to mine for the weekend?’

‘He’s not in from college yet – five-a-side football, I think he said. But yes, he’s all good to come to you. He’s going to go home with Bradley. Are you sure Colin is up to this?’

‘Oh, he’ll be in his element. Takeaways and gaming. It’s totally a boy’s weekend.’

‘That’s kind of him. I appreciate it.’

‘Anytime. You know that. Although, I’m surprised Alfie’s not staying at Joanne’s, with Ruby and Oliver.’

I ignore the little drop my stomach gives at the mention of Joanne’s daughter. It’s the sort of weightless feeling you experience when the rollercoaster tips over the edge of the first big dip and it takes a few seconds for your internal organs to catch up with the fall. I’m used to that sensation. As sure as night follows day, I get that every time Ruby comes up in conversation. As always, I make a faultless recovery. ‘Fortunately, Tris is away this weekend too, so Ruby is going to stay with Joanne’s mother.’ I try to keep my tone neutral as my thoughts are thrown off course and on to a different trajectory. If my friends are the constellation by which I navigate life, then Ruby is the black hole whose gravitational pull is so great that nothing, not even light, can escape from being drawn in and swallowed up. I know. I’ve witnessed stars in my night sky pass the point of no return, the absolute horizon of the black hole, and disappear forever, while other stars are teetering around the edges, unwittingly being drawn closer and closer until it will be impossible to turn back.

I force myself to focus on the conversation. Andrea is talking about a film showing at the cinema that Colin might take the boys to see. I let her chatter on for a while, before the conversation comes to a natural halt and Andrea closes with, ‘Right, well, I’d better get on. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

‘Yep. See you then. Don’t let me down.’

‘When have I ever let you down?’

For some time after the call, I remain sitting at the kitchen table, looking at the invitation with Andrea’s words on repeat in my mind.

She’s never let me down. In my darkest hour, when Darren had committed suicide, she was there for me. ‘That’s what friends do,’ she had said once. ‘They look after each other.’

A sigh leaves my lips and I blink away thoughts of Darren to focus on the next four days. Despite my assurances to Andrea that it’s going to be a great weekend, my own doubts are beginning to surface. Perhaps I’m expecting too much by way of reconciliation. Can we honestly put everything behind us? Even if we want to, can we truly repair our fractured friendship or is it another black hole on the not-too-distant horizon?