‘Just down the road from Victoria coach station.’ I look around as if to reassure myself that I haven’t dreamt the whole thing. ‘I’ve left Vince,’ I add.
‘My God, Kate. Really? Look, I’m at this theatre right now but—’
‘Oh, you’re working. I’m sorry—’
‘No, I mean I’ve literally just finished. I’m in this tiny dressing room...’ She rattles off the name of a small, tucked-away north London theatre. ‘Can you get an Uber? Come over right now...’
‘I will. And can I stay the night?’ I’m filled with relief now at the sound of her voice.
‘’Course you can, for as long as you like. You don’t even have to ask.’
*
By the time I’ve arrived Tash has moved from the theatre to a late-night bar around the corner and told me to meet her there. It’s a tiny, cosy little place where, she tells me, the cast often go, and the elderly man behind the bar seems to know everyone. After briefly introducing me to a group of her fellow actors, Tasha leads me over to a corner table where we can be alone.
‘Oh, Kate. My darling.’ She hugs me tightly after I’ve told her everything. ‘I didn’t realise how bad things were and how unhappy you’ve been. Why didn’t you say?’
‘I suppose I didn’t want to admit it. But I had to leave tonight. I just couldn’t be there a second longer...’ I pick up my large glass of white wine. Somehow, within minutes, I’ve downed half of it already. ‘I’ve made such a fuck-up of everything,’ I continue, crying now. More tears keep coming, and no amount of deep breathing or telling myself tostop being a big blubbing babyis making them stop.
‘Hey, it’s okay,’ she says gently.
‘I’m sitting here crying in front of your friends—’ I glance over at the group, all in deep conversation at the bar.
‘No one’s noticed. It doesn’t matter anyway. Christ, Kate, of course you’re upset. All this shit you’ve put up with. And I don’t blame you one bit. Honestly, you did the right thing.’
‘You reckon?’ I wipe away my tears with my hand. ‘And you don’t think I’m a complete sap for moving to Shugbury in the first place?’
‘Of course not,’ she exclaims. ‘You were willing to try it. That’s pretty brave.’ Now my glass is empty. She jumps up and orders two more wines. At this rate I’ll be pissed, but who cares? She sits back down. ‘So, Vince doesn’t know you’re in London?’
‘No.’
I know she’s thinking,Doesn’t he even care where you are?We’ve been friends since we were five years old and I can virtually read her thoughts as they form. After Mum had whisked me and George to London, Tash and I had kept in touch via letters. Then at nineteen she’d arrived in London too, to study drama. (Vince says she’s ‘very thespy’ – whatever that means.) Briefly married and divorced, and long-term single, she’s never wanted children but has been an adoring auntie to Edie. Until the move to Smugbury (as she and I had jokingly christened it), we’d lived just a few streets apart.
‘Hey, Tash. Great to see you!’ Vince would enthuse, arriving home to find us ensconced at our kitchen table. But as his gaze flicked to her wine glass it was obvious he was thinking,Fuck, that’s nearly full. She’s going to be ages drinking that.Tash would ambush him with warmth and good-natured teasing, but to me her true feelings were as clear as day.
‘Stay with me as long as long you like,’ she offers now. ‘Move into my spare room. We can do some nice stuff together—’
‘I was thinking just tonight.’
She looks at me imploringly. ‘Please don’t go rushing back home...’
‘I’m meant to be working at the hotel tomorrow,’ I announce, suddenly remembering. ‘My shift starts at noon.’
‘Just don’t go in! Tell them you’re sick.’
‘And the bathroom door’s locked!’ One of Tash’s friends glances around as I clasp a hand to my mouth.
‘What, at the hotel?’ Tash asks, looking confused.
‘No, at home—’
‘So?’
‘So, all this time and no one’s been able to use the loo,’ I rant. ‘At aparty.’
‘Not your problem...’
‘...But they’ll have had to, I don’t know, pee in the garden, behind the shed—’
