27
As they passed Preston, their phones pinged simultaneously, which typically meant a Brian Club WhatsApp.
Roisin looked at the notification.
Matt McKenzie left the group: BRIAN CLUB
She involuntarily sucked in air and looked up at Meredith.
Gina said, ‘What? What’s it say?’ glancing at her phone in its holder on the dashboard.
‘Nothing,’ Meredith said. ‘Just Dev saying bye.’
‘Why does Roisin look so worried, then?’ Gina said, observing her in the rear-view mirror. Damn my face, Roisin thought.
‘OK, it’s that Matt’s left. It’s a flounce, he’ll be back,’ Meredith said.
‘Left Brian Club?’ Gina said, in a tone of real surprise.
The VW pulled sharply to the left, threatening to stray from its lane. Meredith winced and said, ‘Yeah,’ in a forced-casual way.
‘Don’t let the door hit you on the arse, Matt,’ Gina said after a pause, in unexpected defiance. Clearly she was doubling down. Neither Roisin nor Meredith said anything, not wanting to antagonise their driver in her delicate state.
‘No doubt firing all his old friends off on orders of that woman. Says a lot about Matt that he’s going along with it.’
Given Gina had forgotten Ruby’s identity reveal, this might be truer than she realised. He might well have been told to put some distance with a bunch of often-pissed, indiscreet and variously hostile friends, for the duration of their liaison.
But leaving the WhatsApp group?
The thought Matt might be going for good was very painful. Until this moment, Roisin hadn’t doubted the fracture could be mended. This falling-out had taken on the feel of something initially mundane that they’d complacently let slip out of control. A runaway golf buggy you thought you could easily catch up with if you broke into a run, which was now going to intersect with a freight train before you reached it.
Roisin felt traitorous to the sisterhood, however, she didn’t think Matt had deserved his ignominy, either. Had Gina been in a nightie, he’d no doubt be her hero for the very same behaviour. And everyone had done a pocket dial in their time. Subtract Gina’s intense self-consciousness, and the poo picture confetti would’ve been hilarious to her.
Yes, the timing of his girlfriend’s arrival was unfortunate. Yet if Matt had asked to bring her, Dev would’ve said sure. So where was the crime, really? Not anticipating the capricious whims of, and limitless chauffeuring available to, prominent creatives? Roisin suspected it felt a bigger gaffe than it was because they’d subconsciously absorbed the expectation Matt should keep his girlfriends out of the Brian Club activities to protect Gina’s feelings, and that wasn’t at all fair.
As she’d realised, he’d tried to tell them about Ruby from Hinge – Joe’s discourtesy, and Matt’s frankly impressive lack of interest in bragging, were why they weren’t forewarned.
She could hear Joe scoffing: tell me, what is it about the good-looking man that’s won you over?
Roisin had come to a conclusion on that, too. Joe’s distaste for Matt as a conceited attention seeker was to cover for the fact he actually hated that attention sought Matt.
Maybe there was a deeper truth, a bigger problem that this series of minor calamities had poked at. Maybe, as Joe had implied, spending a lot of time around someone you are in love with and can’t have will come to grief, eventually.
Roisin still really disapproved of Matt’s timing, though. It didn’t feel like him – she knew he’d not want to offend Dev that Benbarrow had torpedoed relations.
He must be very hurt then, to make it this explicit? She remembered Dev saying it was alright for him to leave with Ruby, and none of them asking him to stay.
As they reached the outskirts of Manchester, Roisin’s phone lit up again. This time, no else’s did.
Hi R. I’ve already spoken to Dev, but I wanted to explain to you individually: I’m going to take some time away from the group. I feel really bad about fucking up this weekend and think this rest for you all is overdue, frankly I’ll stay in touch, obviously. FYI Dev is insisting on meeting up to talk me out of it. While I know it comes from absolutely brilliant intentions, I really don’t want that – my mind’s made up. I’m not angling to be made a fuss of and persuaded back. I’m not trying to create drama, I thought it best to draw a clear line. Take care, Matt x
Roisin wasn’t fooled: if Matt was merely having a rest, he’d simply have muted the group or found the leave silently function, and they’d be none the wiser. He didn’t want to chat to them any more, he didn’t want to be asked to go on evenings out. This was a more profound goodbye, which was trying to take the stinger out of the bee.
‘Hope you don’t mind if I don’t get out,’ Gina said, as they drew up at the smart stone urns flanking the steps up to the Grade Two-listed chapel that housed Joe and Roisin’s apartment. Let’s do the quirky choice before suburbia proper, eh? Joe had said, after the viewing. Given it was mainly his money, Roisin thought it was his call anyway.
Even glancing at it, Roisin felt like a grimy, compromised charlatan. Her home, bought with her boyfriend’s money, which he got for writing about her mum’s sex life. And his …?
‘Are you kidding, you got us home!’ Roisin said, forcing herself into one last push on the fake cheerfulness front. ‘You deserve The George Cross. They should rename it The Georgina Cross.’
‘Thanks, Rosh,’ Gina said, looking at her tiredly from under her headscarf. ‘The hot bath, sheet mask and Uber Eats McDonalds is going to feel good, I can’t lie.’
Meredith got out of her seat, slid the door open and helped Roisin pull herself and her case out of the vehicle.
‘Did you get the Matt explanation, too?’ Meredith said, in a very low voice, deliberately speaking with her back to the van as they walked towards the house.
‘Yes! This has spiralled out of control.’
‘We need to reassure him,’ Meredith said. ‘He’s imagined we’re as raging as …’ She inclined her head towards Gina. ‘Love her as I do, she needs to calm down where McKenzie’s concerned.’
‘Yes,’ Roisin said, in relief. ‘He’s refusing to be talked round, though?’
‘Mmmm.’
Roisin paused, house keys in palm, as she gathered that Meredith was hesitating.
‘Come over,’ Meredith said eventually. ‘Next Friday. For dinner. For a proper chat. Without Joe. When’s he back?’
‘Next week. I will. Thanks …?’ Roisin said. Without Joe had never been uttered in their friendship before. Joe as a permanently welcome addition was always a given.
‘Good. Go easy on yourself.’
She grabbed Roisin in a tight hug. As Roisin absorbed the meaning of their exchange, she tried not to burst into tears on her shoulder then and there. She hadn’t realised how broken she was, until someone acknowledged it.