Page 78 of Bad Influence
‘He’s nice to talk to, and he’s a calming influence compared to the whirlwind Mandy has become. He always seems to be there when I’m feeling lonely, and recently that has been quite a lot. It’s begun to feel as though so much time away from Rob is putting a distance between us. Oh, and he’s unbelievably sexy and probably the most beautiful man I have ever seen in the flesh.’
‘Oh Christ. This is bad.’
‘Bad? Do you think I’m a really bad person?’
‘Honey, you know me well enough by now to know I wouldneverjudge you. Secrets to the grave, right?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’ I crossed my chest to belabour the point.
‘Let’s analyse this further. You didn’t actually snog him, it was just a kiss. Are you married?’
‘You know I’m not.’
‘Good. But even if you were, you’ve not done anything that bad, you do know that, don’t you?’
‘But I thought about it.’
‘Thoughts don’t count. Do you think you’ll marry Rob?’ Vicky asked.
This was a big question. Just a few weeks ago I would have immediately said yes. But now I needed to pause. I tried to picture it, as if I was looking down on myself from an unknown place, somewhere in the future.
There is me and there’s Rob. We look the same, onlythere are rings on our fingers because we are married. My hairstyle is shorter as all hairstyles seem to become the older you get. We are wearing sensible clothes. We have a house, a terrace on a London street. It’s in Zone Five and at least a fifteen-minute walk from the closest Tube, because that is what we can afford. There’s a buggy parked in the hallway, a baby gurgling on its playmat. Music is playing, a bottle of red is open, and Rob’s lasagna is cooking in the oven. It’s still his signature dish.
‘I guess so.’ I sighed.
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘But I’m notunconvinced.’
‘You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic about it.’
‘I think I am.’
‘Think?Babes. It all sounds very adequate to me.’
‘It’s adequately happy.’
‘Amber, you’re twenty-six years old. These are the days. Don’t you think you deserve a little more thanadequate?’
‘Says the person who ran off to LA with a film director she barely knew, no job, and a hundred quid in the bank. It’s okay for you, Vicky, you’re adventurous. You’re a risk-taker. I’m not the same as you. Maybe it is enough for me.’
We were interrupted by my phone pinging as a succession of WhatsApp messages arrived from Blair. Seeing their name pop up startled me as it was really late in the UK.
Where are you?
Mandy’s just woken me up – she’s looking for you.
She says she wants to try the dress.
Seriously Amber – where are you?
Go back to the house asap!
She’s about to file you as a missing person. And I want to go to sleep.
After Vicky and I hugged goodbye, vowing to meet up again as soon as Vicky could get to London for a proper holiday, because one brunch really was not enough time together, I thought about our conversation a lot. I thought about whatadequatemeant. Specifically, whetheradequatelyhappyis happy enough. Even though it did feel as though that vignette in my mind about life with Rob might have seemed a little dull to her, it was comforting to me. It was calm and I was happy. I mean, I could have been wearing better clothes, but it wasn’t all bad. So, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: Rob.
When I got back to the house I crept inside, hoping not to bump into Jimi. The house was quiet, which made me panic. Surely Mandy wasn’t conducting her own search party for me?
