‘I know! Who’d have thought it of the quiet, unassuming Mr Winkler?’
‘Nooo! The head from Mandy’s school Mr Winkler, you mean?’ Vic was wide-eyed. ‘I thought he was married.’
‘I didn’t ask but he was obviously ready for some kind of action, so he was, as he had a cane in his bag and didn’t spare the horses when he used it on me, I can tell you. He kept shouting, “Give the head some head.” Hilarious! What a night! I need coffee and some soothing antiseptic ointment delicately applied to the welts on my arse.’ Vic screwed up her face. ‘Anyways, what the feckareyou doing in here? What’s going on with you and Nate?’
Vic handed her mate a coffee. ‘Oh, Orla, I really don’t know what to do. And for goodness’ sake don’t say “do nothing”this time. It’s too big for that now.’ She passed Orla a milk sachet.
‘Will you just fecking tell me? I’m dying here.’ Orla took a sip of her drink, screwed up her face and reached for the sugar.
‘Nate slept with some girl from the restaurant.Twice.’
‘Oh. Did you say, “Touché, darling – I bet my Brighton boy was hotter?”’ On realising that Vic wasn’t finding her the remotest bit funny, Orla got up and moved to sit next to her friend on the bed, and placed a hand on her knee. ‘I’m sorry, mate. How are you feeling?’
‘It’s just a mess, isn’t it? How can I possibly be angry, when I’ve done the same? Although him doing it twice means that only the first time it probably wasn’t planned, so you could say he’s the worse of the two of us.’
‘Blimey, that’s a lot to get my head around at this time of the morning. So, did you tell him about Blondie?’
‘No!’
‘Are you going to?’
‘No.’ Vic groaned. ‘Maybe I should, now. I don’t even know what to feel anymore.’
‘OK, so my advice, for what it’s worth, mate, is for you to have a break from Nate. Get your head straight. You can then maybe tell him about Blondie once you’ve had the break if you want to, so you are both on a clear and honest footing. Being honest, if it was me, I wouldn’t say a word. You can act the spurned woman with Nate and dine out on it for years to come. And, whilst you’re apart, work out what it is you really want. See if you do miss him.’
‘It has really pissed me off, him sleeping with someone else.’
‘Is that because it obviously would do, or because you really do care about the bloke?’
‘Hmm. OK. I hear you. Your “time apart” idea is a good one.’
‘Yeah, ’cos even if you don’t realise it, you’re clearly bothunhappy. And I know I’m the queen of the one-night stands, but I do believe that if you genuinely love someone, you don’t cheat on them.’
‘But life isn’t always that clear cut, Orla, is it?’ Vic sighed deeply. ‘I so don’t want to go back to Mum’s – being there alone would depress me, even without having to do the London commute every day as well.’
‘You can stay with me.’ Orla took a sip of coffee.
‘Oh, Orla, I dunno. Your sofa bed is like a rock.’
‘Hark at the princess and the pea here. It’s fine. Aletta has already gone home to Amsterdam for an extended Christmas break. She won’t be in London again until mid-January. You can have her room. She’s cleared most of it out, anyways.’
‘Well… if you’re sure. You’re nearer to work, too, so that’s perfect, and I’d much rather be away from our flat so that I can think properly, on neutral ground.’ Vic kissed Orla’s cheek. ‘Thanks, mate.’ She reached for her phone. ‘I’d better ring a taxi to take me to the train station. Nate wanted me to travel home with him, but I just couldn’t face talking to him, so I lied and said I was coming back with you in the car.’
Orla grimaced. ‘I feel bad. I’m stopping off to stay at my sister’s now, or I really could have driven you back.’
‘Don’t be silly. You have a life too, and it’s not your fault my relationship is in tatters. I will go home, pack a bag, and tell Nate that I’m moving out for a while.’
‘How do you think he’ll take it?’ Orla winced as she shifted on the bed.
‘At this precise moment, I don’t actually care.’ Vic poked her head in the mini-bar and made a gagging noise. ‘Even looking at the wine makes me feel a bit sick. I’ll take a couple of Cokes for the journey, OK?’
‘Go for it.’ Orla waved her hand nonchalantly.
Vic placed the cans into her handbag.
‘So, I’ll see you back in London tomorrow night. Here, takemy key – and no wild parties in the flat without me, OK?’ Orla grinned.
Vic put the key in her bag. ‘I do love an after-wedding breakfast, but I can’t face anyone this morning, and I don’t want Mandy to have to get involved in this so soon after her wedding. So, can you just tell her that I felt so awful I had to head straight home? That’s not even a lie.’
