Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

November arrived before I was ready for it, and this morning I was thirty. Mum left a voicemail saying that she had posted something, but it hadn’t arrived. Louise had sent an e-card with the same design as last year. I rolled over and imagined that he was next to me.

Happy birthday, honey .

I kissed my hand and pretended it was his mouth.

Did you get everything you wanted?

What did I want?

Dad is living on the beach. Ruth and I have a joint birthday on the grassy bank where the seaweed curls to black, bulbous mounds.

Was it strange that Ruth hadn’t pushed me for birthday plans? It was my thirtieth. But she had been busy. She had a second interview. She had just started seeing someone. Besides, I had told her that I didn’t want to do anything. I had no money, three more rejections, and I didn’t want to celebrate with Virinder. I had made a plan to see him on Sunday, which gave me two days to decide what I wanted.

I got out of bed and went to the kitchen. The sky was white like it might snow. I turned on the radio, filled the kettle and waited for it to boil. I looked at my face, pale and warped, in the kettle. Every year it would get worse. My jaw would drip to my neck until my face became a skull like the ones that we saw in museums on school trips. I stood wondering if other people found it this hard to understand themselves, and then made a cup of tea.

A T WORK , S TEFAN WAS training a Canadian girl called Amber. Amber had a tattoo of a wolf on her wrist, and at lunch, a banker howled. Nice ink, he said, handing her money for the coffee that I had made him. Keep the change, Amber.

Thanks, she said, putting the eighteen pence into the tip jar.

It did feel sad that I was here on my birthday again. Shift work was acceptable in my twenties, but I was thirty now and, according to Amy, should have special paint on my walls. And I still hadn’t heard from Ruth. We always planned our birthdays together. For her thirtieth she had wanted to go to Vegas, but we couldn’t afford it, so we went to the casino in Leicester Square.

At last, the shift ended, and I was hanging up my apron when Virinder charged through the doors. Surprise! I’m taking you for dinner! My stomach dropped. He was dressed in a textured blue suit, and his teeth looked newly whitened.

Amber elbowed me. Is he your boyfriend? she said, hitting the “your” unambiguously. I used to love when people commented on Virinder’s appearance, but now it bothered me, his preplanned meals, the time spent in the bathroom, how he always kept his muscles tensed. I indicated my work clothes and said that I wasn’t dressed for dinner, but he said that didn’t matter.

See you later, girl, Stefan said.

V IRINDER TOOK ME TO a restaurant near Bank with dark walls and lobsters in glowing blue tanks. City couples surrounded us. Women in tight dresses with hair extensions. Men with short haircuts and strong aftershave. I took off my coat, and Virinder pointed out a coffee stain like it was adorable. I wondered how adorable he would think it was if I threw coffee on his shirt.

Happy thirtieth, he said. I’ve always wanted to date an older woman. I smiled, but I hated the joke. I thought about the short, dead, crispy strands of gray in my hair. The women in this restaurant didn’t have gray hair.

Virinder ordered us champagne and said that he hoped that it was okay that he hadn’t got me a present. The meal and the flowers will have to be enough, he said with a wink. Then he added that we had only just had a celebration dinner for my book, verbalizing the letters “LOL.”

I’ve told you before that I don’t like champagne, I said.

I’ve seen you drink champagne lots!

You’ve seen me drink prosecco and slowly sip the occasional glass of champagne.

Well, slowly sip this, then. It’s a hundred a bottle.

When the food arrived, Virinder did most of the talking. He spoke about his brother, who had just had another baby, and reminded me that I had promised to give him some dates for us to visit. Then he talked about how much he wanted children and asked how many I wanted. I hated that. A man would be asked whether he wanted them at all.

I’m not sure I want them, I said.

He told me that his friend Kelly used to say that, but now she has four. Four , he repeated, and laughed. He talked about how he couldn’t wait to propose. He said that he understood feminism, but, for him, he liked the tradition. That will be my surprise, he said. And her surprise will be when she tells me that she is pregnant. He was looking at me like he was talking about me, but he was using the third person. I wondered then if he actually loved me or whether he had just decided to. He told me once that he had broken up with a woman because she wasn’t “the one.”

Virinder, why do you like me?

He laughed. Baby, what?

I told him to tell me the truth. Why do you want to be with me? His smile flattened. He said that I was different from the other girls. That I made him laugh. He liked that I was a writer, and he liked taking care of me.

Then he asked me the same question, and I answered honestly: I loved hearing you talk about India and your family on our first date. I loved how positive you were. I loved how dedicated you were to your career.

Why are you speaking about me like I’m dead?

I told him it was unintentional. He said that he was pleased that I had mentioned India because he hoped to take me there. I asked where he considered home, Mumbai or London. He didn’t pause for breath. London, because I was born here, he answered, like a game show contestant thrilled to have been asked a question they knew the answer to. I moved food around my plate. He asked if the gnocchi was okay. I told him that it was just filling. How’s your steak?

Amazeballs!

We chewed again until the waiter (whose name was Rish, because Virinder asked) cleared the plates. Virinder joked about the way that he was holding them. I’d drop them everywhere! The waiter smiled with blank eyes. Virinder told me that he would give him a generous tip. It’s so important, he said. I screwed my hands into fists and told myself that I just had to get through dinner.

Did you speak to your mum today?

Just get through dinner.

No, Virinder, it’s Friday.

Even on your birthday?

I didn’t acknowledge the question, I just continued drinking champagne. He watched and refilled my water glass. In nine months, I had never seen Virinder drunk. I wanted to fly across the table, slam my knee into his chest, and shove the one-hundred-pound champagne bottle into his mouth.

We ordered dessert, and Virinder asked what I was going to do next with my writing. I told him that I couldn’t think about what was next until I knew whether or not this book was dead. He hummed like he understood, then went into an unrelated anecdote about a guy at work who thought he was interested in corporate law but now works in pensions.

JUST GET THROUGH DINNER.

Virinder got an espresso, and I got a peppermint tea, and we talked about the American election. I told him that I was terrified Trump would win on Tuesday. Virinder hummed like he understood, and then his face lit up: Have I shown you this? He waited for me to respond even though there was no way I could know the answer, then played a video of a friend doing a bad impression of Trump talking about grabbing women by the pussy.

Finally, Virinder paid the bill. I picked up the lilies, and when he put my coat over my shoulders, he commented on the stain again. I told him that he should have let me get changed.

Baby girl, that stuff doesn’t matter to me!

And then I realized: Not only did it not matter, but he liked it. I was his scruffy writer girlfriend who couldn’t say “I love you.” He wanted me the way that someone wanted a tattoo or a sports car. I was his fetish. And he was my fetish too. The fetish of being treated well. The kink of a different life. It was a magic eye, and now that I had seen it, I couldn’t unsee it. There was nothing to be conflicted about; it was sad but inevitable: it was over.

O UTSIDE THE RESTAURANT , V IRINDER suggested that we stay at mine, but I couldn’t spend another night with him. I told him that I wanted a night to myself, but knowing that I needed to break up with him in person, added that I’d still like to see him on Sunday. He puffed out his chest and moved like a boxer. I asked if he was all right, and he stuttered: I know that you prefer my flat, but sometimes it would be nice if you invited me over. I know that you have commitment issues but—

I don’t have com—

I’ve made a huge effort this evening, and, well, I just think that… that…

His face was red, and there were beads of sweat on his hairline. I had never seen him panic before. He said he needed the toilet and ran back inside. After two minutes I got a message from Ruth:

FFS. Just come back to yours, Enola…

O PENING THE DOOR , I knew it was coming, but I still felt sick.

SURPRISE!

Because my entrance was small, I could only see Ruth and Amy and Sasha, but as I turned the corner there was Fiona and a girl I didn’t recognize and then, oh god, was that Chris? And Stefan from the café. It was an awkward mix of people. Ruth shouted to Virinder to put the music on and dragged me to the bathroom. She shut the door and put her hands on my cheeks. Firstly, don’t worry , I made the flat look great. And I know you hate surprises but Virinder was certain that it was what you wanted and I couldn’t say no because, well, I didn’t want to imply that he didn’t know you like I know you, you know? And then I thought, well, we haven’t spoken much lately so maybe a surprise party is what you want and—

Ruth, what?

Well, we’ve not seen each other as much recently, she said, looking down.

My pulse slowed, and I took her in. She had a thin layer of green glitter above her eyelashes and was wearing a silver mesh top over a black tube. Her hair was piled atop her head, and she smelled like coconuts. I put my hands on her shoulders and assured her that there would never be a man who knew me better than she did.

Even if there was, like, a weird sex thing?

Especially if there was a weird sex thing.

We laughed, and I said that I was sorry that we hadn’t spent much time together, and she told me not to worry. In my mind, she had been the busy one, but I brushed it off. I also brushed off the fact that I hadn’t heard from her all day. We looked at each other, and then I clamped my hand over my mouth. God, Roo, this is so weird, what am I going to do?

Ruth suggested putting on some makeup and a dress. Then fuck it, let’s have a fun night? Sometimes these weird nights turn out excellent. Also, I brought a date…

Sally?

Ruth nodded.

Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever known you to bring a date before. That’s quick!

Not really. It’s been a month.

There was a knock at the door. Then, saccharine, Virinder said that he had two glasses of prosecco for “the girls.” I opened the door a sliver to take them and thanked him for my surprise. He mimed mopping his brow. Phew! I was so worried because you told me that you hated surprises. But then I thought, well, everyone says they hate surprises but no one actually does. Ruth nudged me and I nudged her back. I told Virinder that we would be out in a minute; then I put on some makeup and changed into my black dress.

R UTH WAS RIGHT . O NCE I got over my lack of control, the party was fun. We sat on the floor around the coffee table, and Ruth fed vodka jelly to people with a teaspoon. I spoke with Amy about the submissions process, and she encouraged me to start something new while I was waiting to hear from publishers. Sally spoke with a soft Huddersfield accent and asked me lots of questions. She was nervous, and Ruth kept putting her arm around me instead of her, which wasn’t helping. Virinder was in the kitchen playing host. He makes everyone his best friend, Ruth said. Then she paused. Is that a bit annoying?

We put on nineties music, and Ruth pulled me up, and we did our favorite thing, but then Virinder grabbed my waist and I stopped dancing, and slinked back down by the coffee table. Oh, I forgot, no PDA! he declared with a compensatory laugh.

Don’t worry, Virinder, said Amy, mispronouncing his name. Enola is like one of those creatures you have to pour water on.

Everyone looked at her.

You know, those squeaky ones that come to life, she clarified.

Gremlins? suggested Sally. Ruth burst out laughing and put her head on Sally’s shoulder, and Sally looked thrilled. Virinder said that I was like a little gremlin. I asked him if he had seen the film, and he said, No, are they like Pokémon? I told Ruth to stop feeding Amy vodka jelly. Sasha whispered to Ruth who whispered to me that they had some coke? Fuck it, I thought. When in Rome. Virinder, who hadn’t properly heard, declared that he loved Rome, and he and Amy began discussing the Vatican.

We went to the bathroom, where Sasha made some lines on the edge of the bath. Sally perched on the toilet. She was a tiny human, and with her knees pulled to her chin, she fit perfectly. Sasha stretched across the length of the floor, their long legs in flared pink denim. Ruth draped herself in the bath as if she were in a music video, and I crouched against the door. Sally asked me if I was having a nice birthday, and Ruth said that I hated surprises. Sally asked why she had planned me a surprise party then. Ruth said that it was what my boyfriend wanted.

Why did she say “boyfriend” like that?

Sally told me that Virinder was nice, and Ruth turned to me. Do you ever worry that when people constantly tell you how nice your boyfriend is, it means that they think you aren’t?

Okay, Sasha said, sitting up. Sal?

She’s Sal already?

Sasha handed Sally a rolled-up five-pound note, and she did the first line and then passed the note to Ruth, who did the fattest one in the middle. Sasha did the long one at the end, then handed me the note. I split the difference and did half of the remaining one. Instantly, I felt that numbing chemical drip. I had only done coke twice. The first time, I panicked that my throat was closing up and made Ruth search the warehouse for something we could use for a tracheotomy. But by the time we found scissors and a straw, the sensation had passed.

The door hit my back. Hello, is this where the party is? We beckoned Chris in. Ruth indicated for me to join her in the bath, so I slotted between her legs while Chris squatted by the door. Sasha handed him the note, and he finished my line. I whispered in Ruth’s ear: Why did you invite Chris? She moved my hair off my cheek and whispered back that he had been surprisingly fun at karaoke. I told her that she thought everyone was surprisingly fun, and she replied in the manner she always did, that everyone was surprisingly fun. I smiled, but then I had a thought. Ruth took everybody as they came. She always found the fun in them. But she had never given him the benefit of the doubt. I shuffled up the bath away from her and rested my elbows where Sasha had presented the lines. Sally smiled over my head at Ruth. She had small, neat white teeth, and rosacea gave her cheeks a blush. Was Ruth smiling back?

Woooweee , Chris said, like an extra doing coke in a film.

P EOPLE LEFT FOR LAST trains, and Sasha turned the lights down. Amy told me that she had a hen in the morning. I would stay longer, but honestly, hon, we were waiting for an hour. She shouted: Floo! Ahmed is one minute away.

Ruth put on Ceremonials and smiled at me from across the room. We’d seen Florence and the Machine at Alexandra Palace four years ago. Before him. Before Brexit and Bowie and Trump. Before the apocalypse. We’d added MDMA to the rum, but it only hit after the gig, and so we ran barefoot across the grass under the full moon.

The album played and one by one people came up to me as in confession to tell me, unwarranted, what they thought of me. Sasha told me that when Ruth introduced us, they hadn’t thought that we would be friends. You seemed a little cold? They kissed me on the lips and asked if I wanted more coke. I shook my head, and they rubbed their gums.

And the arms of the ocean are carrying me.

Something in the lyrics made me think of him.

Birthday girl! Birthday girl! Chris chanted like at a football match. He said that he didn’t realize I was fun. You always seemed uptight. I told him that he always seemed like a cunt. But he didn’t hear me. He jumped us up and down before flopping on the sofa, sniffing a drink in front of him and drinking it.

Ruth had her arms around Sally in the kitchen. The moonlight from the window connected them. Ruth said something and then left. Sally came over, and I pretended that I hadn’t been staring. Sally said that she had been nervous to meet me. Her breath smelled sweet like rum and coke. You mean so much to Ruth, she said, playing with the small silver hoop in her lobe.

I know that, I said.

She laughed nervously and switched to the other ear. She said that Ruth was really excited about the new job. I asked her what new job, and Sally’s face changed. Did you not know? I looked around the room. I hadn’t seen Virinder in a while. I told Sally that I was going to find him.

I hope I haven’t said—

No, not at all.

Ruth was in the bathroom. I could hear singing through the door. She was even a brilliant singer. Why did that annoy me? I checked the bedroom; Virinder wasn’t there, but Amy had left her cashmere scarf on the bed. I knew it was cashmere because she told me. I went back into the living room and found him on the balcony facing the skyscrapers. The wind whipped the building, and the edges of his blue jacket were flapping. Like a movie villain, without turning, he asked if I had taken some.

Some what?

Don’t play dumb, Enola. Cocaine.

Half a line. Why?

He said that he didn’t take me as someone who did drugs. I replied that I took drugs; I didn’t do drugs. He asked if there was a difference. I said that there was enough of one. He told me that my eyes were saucers. I told him that it was only half a line. He told me that it was hypocritical of my left-wing hipster friends to be okay with coke. It’s upholding some of the world’s worst regimes. Not to mention the trafficking. And you do know your doors are glass?

I looked behind me: inside people were dancing and hugging and kissing; it looked warm and safe.

And?

And you’ve barely spoken to me all evening. I’m not an idiot. I know something is wrong, Enola.

I quickly rehearsed what I was going to say but I stopped myself from saying it. It didn’t matter if he was being unreasonable, because he was right, and I couldn’t keep lying to him. I told him that I was sorry and he told me that he was going home. I said that I would call him tomorrow, and his face fell, as if he were hoping I might have said something different. He said that he would call me and then he left.

Ruth came out wearing her gray raincoat. She said that they were going to Bethnal Green. Are you coming? She was avoiding eye contact. I asked if she wanted me to come.

What does that mean?

It is my thirtieth, Roo.

I know it’s your thirtieth. You’re the one that didn’t want us to celebrate together.

What does that mean? I said, borrowing her words. Who else would I want to celebrate with?

She looked at me like the answer was obvious. I told her that I never wanted to celebrate with Virinder and I certainly never wanted a surprise party. She said that Virinder insisted this was what I wanted. I reminded her that she knew me better than he did.

So, this is my fault? she said in a higher-than-normal pitch.

I reached for the creases in her coat. Look, Roo, I don’t know what’s happening with us but it’s fucking freezing. Can we please go inside? But neither of us moved. I asked why she hadn’t told me about the job. She said that she wanted to tell me. I shook my head. Don’t. We don’t play those games. She said it wasn’t a game.

I didn’t tell you, Enola, because you didn’t ask! You were meant to help me for my interview, remember? But you were at Virinder’s. Man. It’s like you’re disappearing again but in a totally different way this time.

Okay, but—

Do you know that you’re the last of my friends to meet Sally? Do you know how weird that is?

Ruth looked like she was about to cry. I wanted to hug her, but Sasha poked their head out and asked if we were coming. I said that I had to work in the morning, and Sasha laughed: Why on earth did you have a party?

The plan formed without my input, until everyone was standing with their shoes on by the front door. Sally told me that it was lovely to meet me. Chris couldn’t stand up straight. Sasha apologized for the mess. Ruth was swaying slightly. I told Sasha to make sure she drank a pint of water before bed. Ruth snapped that I wasn’t a doctor.

I closed the door behind them and leaned against the wood, listening to their voices disappear. My eyes were stinging and my feet were aching. I was so frustrated, so angry . But then someone knocked. I opened the door, hoping to find Ruth laughing at how absurd we had been, but it was Virinder.

I thought you went home! What are you still doing here?

I looked at my wrist like there was a watch there.

He didn’t say anything. I repeated the question. He still didn’t say anything. I wanted to tap my foot. Then he spoke: Why didn’t you follow me? I asked what he was talking about but he just said it louder: Why didn’t you follow me? He looked up to the corner of the ceiling and inhaled like he was fighting for his life.

Look, Virinder. It’s my birthday. I’ve been working all day. I just want to sit down and—

I’ve been working too.

Yes, but you planned this party, I thought.

I asked if we could please talk tomorrow. He told me that if I cared about him, I would have followed him when he left. He shook his head and told me that he deserved better. I wanted to tell him how absurd that was, but then he asked the question that had been burning a hole, the question that I had been too afraid to ask when I had been in his position: Do you love me?

What? I asked, to buy time.

It’s always me trying.

If this is about the champagne and the meals then—

No! It’s about you, Enola. I try and get you to open up—I thought perhaps when you were finished with the book—but you’ve actually become more distant! I keep thinking that you’ll get there but… You know, most people would say that I’m a catch.

And just like that I was furious.

Virinder, where were you?

When?

Well, you left and reappeared twenty minutes later so—

He ran his hands through his hair.

—where were you?

He told me that he had been hiding by the rubbish chute. I took a breath and held it, partly to steady myself and partly to demonstrate that I needed steadying. Virinder, you tell me you’re leaving; I assume you’re leaving. I’m not chasing you down the fucking hall. He told me not to swear. I told him to grow up. We stood for a minute; then he said that he was leaving. I tapped my foot. He said that he had put the lilies in water and added the sachet. He waited for me to thank him. I didn’t and he left.

The living room was strewn with glasses and teaspoons of half-eaten vodka jelly. And I had run out of bin bags. Fuck. I didn’t know who I was angrier at: Virinder, Ruth, or myself. No, it was me. I had snapped at Sally. I had argued with Ruth. I had hurt Virinder in the same way that I had been hurt and I wasn’t even sure I felt bad about it. I was a horrible person and this was a horrible birthday. Worse than my fourteenth, when I had mumps, and my eighteenth, when my mum forgot. I picked up my phone from the coffee table to text Ruth and found a message:

Happy birthday, Gay. Get everything you wanted? x