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‘Tough day?’ she asked.
‘I worked the lunch shift at the pub, then had a casting for a toothpaste advert in the afternoon.’
She laughed. ‘Did you have to pretend to clean your teeth in front of a row of brand executives?’
I grimaced. ‘How did you know?’
She looked different tonight. Her hair was down, falling over her shoulder in soft curls. And there was something different about her make-up, although I couldn’t tell you what. She wore quite a lot of make-up, I’d noticed, but in a way that looked natural rather than over the top. I liked the way her lips were always painted a sort of matte plum. In any case, she looked lovely. And I’d been excited to see her, an emotion I hadn’t felt in years (if ever). Luke kept telling me that he thought my life would be fuller if I opened myself up to the idea of a relationship, but I couldn’t make myself like someone, could I? Like Donna’s friend, the one he’d tried to set me up with at the dinner party; she’d been nice enough, but there just wasn’t any chemistry on my part, so what would have been the point in pursuing it? And I was sick of dating actresses, of moving in those same circles all the time. When I’d got tangled up with girls from drama school, it had never worked and had become a terrible sort of competition as to who had the upper hand and whose career was going better. With Rebecca it was easy. I didn’t have to pretend to be something I wasn’t because this was not in any way a relationship, other than a friendly one that friendly neighbours have. It had crossed my mind that Rebecca might think I was asking her out on a date, but then I came to my senses and realised that she wouldn’t think that because I was pretty sure her dates didn’t involve wobbly table legs and studio theatre in Finsbury Park. She was probably used to being wined and dined in the capital’s most exclusive restaurants. I could imagine American boy splashing his cash on a dinner that cost more than my weekly rent.
‘So what does your boyfriend do?’ I asked her. ‘I haven’t seen him around for a while, does he work away?’
She stared into her drink, running her finger around and around the rim of the glass. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend,’ she replied, looking up.
‘Oh,’ I said, frowning. ‘I thought you were with that American guy …’
She shook her head, looking embarrassed. ‘We were seeing each other for a while, but it was nothing serious. He’s gone back to New York now, anyway.’
‘Oh, I see.’
I wasn’t sure why, but I felt a sort of relief. I thought it was probably because I couldn’t imagine her with someone like him now that I’d got to know her better.
‘So are you seeing anyone else?’ I asked.
Oh god, what was wrong with me? I was making it sound as though I was interested in her and that wasn’t it at all.
‘Not really,’ she said, fiddling with the hoop in her right ear.
‘How come?’
She tilted her head to the side, propping it in her hand. ‘This is probably a bit deep, but I don’t really want to put myself out there anymore. I can’t stand the thought of loving someone and then losing them again.’
‘I imagine that’s partly because of your parents, right?’ I said, settling back in my seat.
I thought about what she’d told me a lot. I mean, my feelings towards my own family were complicated, but I couldn’t imagine losing them, let alone when I’d been a child.
She nodded. ‘It must be, I suppose. But then I met my ex-boyfriend, Dan, when I was really young. We were sixteen when we started going out.’
I took a sip of wine, trying not to look shocked. I was barely functioning at sixteen, let alone starting a serious relationship. ‘So you were with him for a while?’
‘Well I’m thirty-two now, so …’
I shook my head, still reeling. ‘Sixteen years …’
She smiled. ‘Half my life, so yeah, I guess it was a long time.’
I felt panicky just thinking about it. Sixteen years with the same person, making sacrifices, having to take their wants and needs into account, only for them to get off and leave you at the drop of a hat. No thanks.
She twisted her wine glass around by the stem. ‘What about you? Seeing anyone?’
I shook my head, a bit too vigorously. ‘Nope. Too busy.’
She gave me a strange look.
‘I’m focusing on my work.’
She nodded, looking at me suspiciously, as though she thought I was hiding something.
‘Oh, I grabbed us a programme,’ I said, changing the subject. I plucked it out of my bag, sliding it across the table.
