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‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jemma suddenly. ‘Oh God! Have the Asgills got the flat bugged? Have I just got us both fired?’
But Tess wasn’t listening. All her attention was focused on the Hello she had just opened. Right in the centre of the news page was a large picture of Dom and Tamara next to the headline ‘Society Beauty to Wed’. She tried to gulp in air but the oxygen failed to reach her lungs. She felt as if she was drowning.
‘Tess? What’s the matter?’
Tess finally took in a long, ragged breath. ‘So that’s why he’s been trying to get in touch with me,’ she whispered, her throat feeling dry.
Tess’s hands were trembling as she passed the magazine over to Jemma. ‘Look.’
Jemma’s mouth slowly opened in an expression of shock, which swiftly turned to anger.
‘The snake,’ she hissed. ‘This magazine must have gone to the printers over a week ago. He must have proposed to her just after you two had finished.’
Tess nodded numbly. ‘I can do the maths,’ she replied flatly.
She fumbled for her glass and drained it. As Jemma came over and put a reassuring arm around her, Tess’s shoulders began to shake.
‘I’m an idiot,’ she whispered. ‘I’m a bloody idiot.’
‘No you’re not,’ said Jemma softly. ‘He is.’
Taking deep, heavy breaths, Tess rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. She did not cry. She never cried. She wasn’t going to start now.
‘You know what pisses me off the most? We were together for nine years. That’s nearly a third of my life I’ve wasted on him.’
‘It wasn’t a waste, honey,’ said Jemma. ‘It’s just life – you fall in love and things end.’
Tess banged her fist onto the table. ‘But it’s so unfair, Jem! I’ve worked my butt off for ten years and where does it get me? Yet he just strolls along to party – a party I had to beg to get him invited to – and walks off with a millionaire fiancée, while I’m stuck here in someone else’s flat with no one but a twelve year–old boy for company at the weekend.’
‘Oh, thanks!’ said Jemma with mock outrage. ‘Jack gets top billing over me?’
But Tess was in no mood to laugh.
‘I actually don’t know why I’m so angry,’ she went on
. ‘Is it because he’s such a shallow, social–climbing rat and I didn’t realize quite how much? Or because he seemed to fall in love with someone else so quickly? Or … ’
‘What, honey?’
‘ … because he didn’t want to marry me.’
She felt her lip quiver as she said the final word, the anger finally giving way to self–pity. Tess remembered how she had reacted to her father’s death and how she had discovered that grief could be a selfish emotion. The distress for the loss of a loved one was often mixed up with a feeling of universal injustice: Why did it happen to me? How could I have made things different? Why didn’t I say all those things I wanted? In the end, it was all wasted emotion. What was done was done and no one could turn back time. The end of a relationship was no different. She looked at Jemma sadly.
‘You know, through the first year of our relationship I used to have a photo of Dom as my screensaver? Pathetic, isn’t it? I think it was to remind me that he was real. I couldn’t believe that someone like me was going out with someone as good looking as him.’
‘Oh Tess, now you’re just being silly,’ said Jemma. ‘You know you’re gorgeous. And I’ll be honest, Dom’s never done it for me.’
Tess wondered for a moment whether Dom had really been doing it for her. She supposed he hadn’t, not really, not for a long time. For the past year, Tess had found that the slightest thing irritated her about Dom. His endless grooming before leaving the house, his know–it–all pontificating about the world’s ‘best places’, his terrible name–dropping about work: everything about him seemed to set her teeth on edge. Maybe they really had been growing apart, falling out of love. But it wasn’t that truth which hurt, the knowledge that she should really have done something about their relationship sooner. No, what really hurt was that someone she loved had preferred someone else. Seeing him grinning happily from the pages of the magazine had simply compounded every feeling of insecurity and inadequacy she had ever felt. Underneath all the career bravado and ambition were old wounds, and this had just torn them open.
‘If I hadn’t taken this job, we would never have gone to that Asgill Cosmetics launch and he would never have met Tamara … ’ began Tess.
‘Okay, stop that!’ said Jemma sharply. ‘You’re not a victim, Tess. You are a strong, beautiful, kick–ass bitch and you’re not going to sit here wallowing.’
She pulled Tess’s arm, dragging her into the flat.
‘Right, get in that bedroom and doll yourself up,’ she said sternly. ‘There’s a great salsa bar in the East Village. We’re going to go and drink loads of margaritas and find ourselves two chilli–hot men, then dance until they throw us out.’
Despite herself, Tess laughed. ‘Okay,’ she smiled, ‘But, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll give the men a miss and stick with the margaritas.’
