Never Tell A Lie Read online

  ‘He’s bloody right,’ I say. ‘And that’s without factoring in a bloody Uber to Fourways, if we decide not to drive.’

  We both sigh.

  ‘Still,’ I say. ‘It will be fun to see Steve and Michelle again. And Linda means well.’

  ‘And it’s a bit late to cancel, really?’ says April. ‘But I’m warning you, Leo is not thrilled.’

  I feel a shiver, and have to remind myself that firstly, Leo not being thrilled is nothing like Travis not being thrilled, and secondly, it isn’t my problem. Joshua is finding the whole thing uproariously funny.

  The cherry on top comes on the morning of the braai. Linda messages:

  Guys. Small issue. Just realised we don’t have enough plates for everyone. Please bring a plate each.

  Joshua is with me when this message comes through. We are having breakfast at a café that Joshua wanted to try before collecting Django from a karate lesson. Django hates karate. I suspect this lesson will be the last. Before I can stop him, Joshua has messaged her:

  Linda, should we bring knives and forks?

  I know he’s joking, but Linda takes it at face value:

  Don’t be silly. Totally under control.

  This cracks Joshua up.

  ‘Leo is going to be beside himself,’ I say. I can feel the unease that Travis has left as his mark on me. I am uneasy for April.

  ‘Leo has a sense of humour,’ says Joshua. ‘Surely he can see how hilarious this is?’

  ‘Not from what April says,’ I say.

  ‘I’m sure she’s exaggerating. Making it into a story. You know how one does.’

  I nod, except that I’m not sure that I do know how ‘one does’. When I was married to Travis, I was constantly trying not to make things into stories; to gloss over and to make light. I am not familiar with a marriage where you might make your spouse’s grumpy reaction into a story.

  ‘You never ask me about Travis,’ I say.

  To Joshua, this question must come out of the blue.

  ‘Well,’ he says. ‘You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t want to talk about him. And I trust you to tell me what you need to tell me when you’re ready.’

  ‘So you think there’s something I need to tell you?’ I say.

  ‘Mary,’ says Joshua, reaching for my hand. ‘I work with abused women. I know the signs. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.’

  I pull my hand out of his. ‘You’ve got this wrong,’ I say. ‘Travis never hurt me. I wasn’t abused. It’s nothing like that.’

  Joshua looks at me for what seems like forever, his eyes holding mine.

  ‘Okay,’ he says eventually. ‘Sorry. I guess I read that wrong.’

  We’re both quiet. Then he speaks again.

  ‘But whatever you need to tell me, you’ll tell me when you’re ready. And if you never need to tell me, that’s okay too.’

  For a moment I consider trying to explain. Trying to tell him what happened. Telling him everything. But I can’t do that.

  I glance down at my phone.

  ‘Django will be done soon,’ I say. ‘Let’s go fetch him.’

  Joshua nods and calls for the bill. I don’t know if it’s me, but it feels like there is a slight chill between us in the car on the way to get Django. But when Django gets in, Joshua starts joking with him, and soon we’re all laughing, and I think I must have misread the atmosphere completely.

  We’re all in a good mood when we set off for Linda’s a few hours later. Django is looking forward to seeing Zach; Joshua is looking forward to seeing Leo and Steve Twala; and I am just pleased that everyone is so generally amenable to everything. April and I have touched base and are trying to make it so we all arrive at Linda’s around the same time – which is hard, because they live a bit closer than I do. We’ve both decided not to Uber; it’s so far, and we have so much stuff to bring. About halfway there, I gasp.

  ‘What?’ says Joshua.

  ‘Apart from April, none of them knows that you and I are . . .’ I tail off. I don’t know how to describe what it is we’re doing. Dating? Seeing each other? Bonking?

  Joshua laughs. ‘Do they need to know?’

  ‘It’s going to be weird. Last time we saw them we were virtual strangers and now we’re holding hands and stuff.’

  Django leans forward from the back. ‘Are you embarrassed that Joshua is your boyfriend?’ he asks.

  ‘No!’ I give Django a look. ‘I’m very happy that Joshua is my boyfriend.’

  ‘Mm,’ says Django. ‘Reckon you couldn’t be too picky, eh?’

  ‘Hey,’ says Joshua, ‘I thought we were mates?’

  ‘Course we are,’ says Django. ‘But you have very strange ears. I dunno if I would’ve chosen them myself. When I get a girlfriend or boyfriend, that person will have perfect little ears.’

  I snort, making a mental note to have a good look at Joshua’s ears. ‘So, let me get this straight?’ I say. ‘You haven’t decided if you’re going to have a girlfriend or a boyfriend, but you’ve set parameters for their ears?’

  ‘Priorities, Mom,’ says Django, sitting back. ‘No offence, Joshua.’

  ‘None taken, bud,’ says Joshua. ‘Although I’m just going to say that this is the first complaint I have received about my ears.’

  ‘That cannot be true,’ says Django. ‘That totally and absolutely cannot be true.’

  We’re all laughing as we pull up to the address that Google Maps indicates. Maybe that’s why I notice the weird dynamic between Leo and April.

  April and Leo have arrived before us. When we pull up behind them, they are still sitting in the car. I can see that Zach is leaning against his window, and Reenie is strapped in her car seat. April and Leo are facing each other, and Leo has his arm stretched out – he’s pushing April, or stopping her from doing something, or maybe holding her hand in a really awkward way. We can’t see their faces, so I can’t tell. I wonder if I’m reading the situation wrong, but Joshua and I glance at each other at the same time, and I can tell from his face that he also isn’t sure what he’s seeing.

  ‘Maybe give a little hoot,’ I say. ‘So they see we’re here.’

  Django has already climbed out of the car and is standing on the pavement stretching as if he’s travelled for three hours instead of thirty minutes. He’s doing weird yoga-like movements.

  Joshua gives a hoot, and as all the occupants of the car in front turn to look at us, I wave. Zach immediately ejects himself from the car and joins Django in his stretches, as if this is a perfectly normal way to arrive at someone’s house. April and Leo seem to have a brief exchange – he is talking and she is nodding – before they also get out of the car.

  It’s the middle of winter, and we are all warmly dressed. April’s jersey looks like it is made from a cloud, so soft, and she wears a coat, like a person who lives in London. What use would I have for a coat, even one so beautiful? I wonder. I try not to feel underdressed in my jeans and polo neck. I’d been proud of my new puffer jacket until I saw April. April and I are both loaded down with bags – meat, drinks, I’ve brought dessert and she’s been told to bring snacks for drinks. And, of course, plates.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she says. ‘Have you ever? We literally might as well have packed for a week in Plett.’

  Joshua laughs, and takes my various bags from me. It hadn’t occurred to me that I could ask him. Yet another reminder that Joshua is not Travis.

  Leo walks up to us.

  ‘So, this is unusual,’ he says.

  I imagine that a man like Leo seldom goes to bring-your-own braais, let alone bring-your-own everything events. He seems a man meant for black tie and cocktails.

  ‘It’s hilarious,’ says Joshua. ‘And you know, these are always the things where you have the most fun.’

  Leo shrugs. ‘I guess,’ he says.

  ‘Well, let’s try to make the best of it, shall we?’ says April, with a strained smile. ‘These are old school friends. It’ll be a laugh.’

&n
bsp; ‘And I’ll stick by your side, Leo,’ says Joshua. ‘Though you’ll like Steve. He’s a hoot.’

  ‘Everybody likes Steve Twala,’ April and I say almost at exactly the same time, and even Leo smiles.

  ‘Did I hear my name?’ comes a voice from behind us.

  ‘Steve!’ I’d hug him but, like April and Joshua, he’s carrying various bags of drinks and meat and whatever else.

  I quickly introduce him to Leo. We seem to be starting the party on the pavement.

  ‘Before we go in,’ says Steve, ‘can I just ask? Is this bring-your-own bloody plates some white ritual you guys introduced when I wasn’t looking?’

  We all laugh – even Leo. It’s Steve’s magic.

  ‘Stop whining, you guys,’ says Joshua. ‘Let’s go in.’

  I suppose we could have predicted it. The whole afternoon is the most enormous fun. Firstly, Linda is absolutely oblivious to any resentment. She says things like, ‘How kind of you’, and, ‘You shouldn’t have’, as we hand over our stuff, as if she hadn’t asked us to bring everything in the first place.

  The house is big and beautifully furnished. As I look around, I find it really hard to believe that she couldn’t muster up fourteen plates. They have a huge wooden table outside. Surely at some point in their history she has entertained more than her family of five. I mean, even with a family of five, surely you have a few spare plates. The whole plate thing is a mystery to me.

  She introduces us to her husband, Chris, and waves at the garden where her daughters are running around. She leans down and says to Zach, Django and Reenie, ‘Off you go. My kids are around your ages. Go play.’

  Zach and Django look at each other in horror, and then at April and me. But Leo gives the boys a little push on the shoulder, one hand on each boy.

  ‘Come on, boys,’ he says. ‘I know it’s hard, but try to join in. And take Reenie.’

  I’m not sure what to make of it. On the one hand, after another look at each other, the boys each take one of Reenie’s hands, and go. On the other hand, it’s not the approach I would usually use with Django. Then again, maybe it has worked better than my normal passive solutions.

  At that point, Joshua puts his arm around me. I know it’s because he’s picked up my uncertainty over what has just happened with the kids, but it elicits a shriek from Linda.

  ‘Oh. My. God,’ she says. ‘What’s happened here since last time?’ As she says ‘here’, she indicates us with her hands. I blush. Steve is looking at us with interest too, and even Chris seems curious.

  ‘We got together after the reunion,’ I say.

  ‘Like boyfriend and girlfriend?’ says Linda.

  Joshua and I both laugh. ‘Exactly like that.’

  The doorbell rings, and Linda goes to let in Michelle and her wife, who are the last to arrive. I had expected Laurel, Michelle’s wife, to be edgy, like her. Instead, she is the most conventional-looking woman. She wears jeans and a twinset with pearls. I didn’t even know that I knew what a twinset was until I saw her. She has straight brown hair to her shoulders and wears a small amount of make-up. She looks like someone you’d meet at a church fete – not exotic Michelle’s wife. But she smiles widely at us as she is introduced, and her handshake is firm and warm.

  Chris gets us all drinks – or more like pours us the drinks that we brought. They also seem to have a large supply of wine, beers and gin – so I’m not sure what the bring-your-own drinks was all about; but now I am too shy to help myself to anything except what I brought. Maybe that’s the whole point, I think, sipping my wine and eyeing the expensive gin.

  Michelle comes in similarly loaded, only she’s carrying a huge salad bowl and Laurel has the rest of the stuff.

  ‘So kind,’ says Linda. ‘You shouldn’t have.’

  Michelle is having none of it. ‘What do you mean, I shouldn’t have, Linda?’ she says. ‘You bloody told me to.’

  Leo chokes on his drink, a stream of gin hitting back into the glass, and April gives him a look. He reaches out to shake Michelle’s hand, introducing himself and saying, ‘I like you already.’

  ‘I’d shake your hand,’ says Michelle. ‘Only I’m still carrying this frigging salad for the multitudes.’

  ‘Put it over there,’ waves Linda. ‘There’ is a large empty table.

  Conversation is easy, drinks flow. Chris seems like a pleasant man and he smiles but says very little. Steve, Joshua and Leo, however, all seem to bounce off each other, becoming more and more raucous. The thing happens – the thing that always happens – which is that the men gather around the fire while the women sit with our drinks at the table. Linda is delighted – she can interrogate me about Joshua, and even Michelle admits that at high school she thought he was hot ‘insofar as it is possible for me to find a man hot’. Laurel laughs and asks if she should be worried. In reply, Michelle gives her a big kiss. They’re so easy with each other. I tell them that when I grow up, I want to be like them.

  Even the kids are having fun – we can hear shouts of laughter, and every now and then someone comes running to the patio where the adults are, demanding crisps or a drink.

  When it’s time to eat, there is a surprising amount of food. I guess I had assumed that because we were all bringing things, that would form the bulk of the meal. But there are plenty of salads, and a huge potato bake, and corn and delicious stuffed tomatoes. I don’t know why Linda asked us to bring anything, but don’t know how to ask. Leo and I find ourselves standing across the table from each other, both reaching for the potato bake, and our eyes meet over the well-filled table. Leo somehow manages to sweep his eyes over the food in a way that says ‘WTF?’ and I start to giggle. He does too. We’re standing there, plates in hand, snorting, unable to move, when April comes up.

  ‘What’s up, you two?’ she asks. But we can’t say, because Linda is right behind her.

  ‘There’s such a lovely spread,’ I say.

  ‘It’s just making us so happy,’ adds Leo. And we both snort again.

  April looks between us, and I can see she hasn’t made the connection.

  ‘Maybe I should drive home?’ says April. ‘You seem a bit tipsy, Leo.’ Her voice is sweet, but there is a thread of steel in it.

  At this point, Joshua ambles over too. ‘What’s the delay?’ he says, putting his arm around me. ‘I’m going to be on thirds before you even have firsts. What a great spread! Thanks, Linda.’

  This, of course, makes Leo and me start to giggle again. I can’t seem to get a grip on myself, I’m finding it so funny. I probably shouldn’t have any more to drink.

  ‘I think they’re drunk,’ says April to Joshua. ‘I hope you’re driving.’ She sounds cross, prudish. I try to pull myself together.

  ‘I think they’re not nearly drunk enough,’ says Joshua. ‘I’ll fill up your glasses while you get food.’

  He takes our glasses and heads to the drinks table. April trails behind him and we hear her saying, ‘Not for Leo, please.’ It’s like the teachers have left, and Leo and I burst into proper laughter. Linda smiles, unsure what is happening, but pleased, looking from Leo to me.

  ‘I take it you guys are having a good time?’ she says. She sounds kind of hopeful and wistful and needy, and I spontaneously put down my half-filled plate to hug her.

  ‘Linda,’ I say, ‘I am having the absolute best time. Thank you.’ She hugs me back tightly.

  The mood seems to shift back to normal after that incident. We all sit at the long table, telling stories about our lives. Joshua and I are grilled about how we got together, and that turns the question to the other couples at the table. I am always interested in how people met, so I listen with interest, my thigh against Joshua’s under the table, his hand on it. When Travis touched me under a table at an event, it would always be in warning or anger. Sometimes I would have small bruises on my thigh in the shape of his fingertips. So when Joshua first rests his hand on my thigh, I flinch.

  He looks at me. ‘You okay?’

>   I feel the natural way his hand rests on me, warming my leg; neither threatening nor even sexual. Just there.

  ‘Fine,’ I say, and smile.

  I am particularly interested in how Leo and April met. I’ve often been about to ask April, but then we’ve got sidetracked and I’ve forgotten to return to it.

  ‘April showed me a house,’ says Leo. He seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself, despite all his complaining to April before. He smiles. He has a dimple that makes him look like an endearing little boy, and you can see how he would have charmed a young April.

  ‘I’d accepted that I was never getting married,’ he says, ‘so I was in the market for a small house just for me.’

  ‘Depends very much on your definition of “small”, love,’ says April, but she’s smiling and there’s an openness in her face that I haven’t seen before when Leo is around. This memory is pleasing her.

  Leo gives a shrug. ‘Anyhow,’ he continues, ‘April was new to the agency, and they told me that she was the best. She was all pencil skirts and high heels and bright red lipstick.’ He makes a gesture, showing us the outline of April in a pencil skirt. He’s smiling.

  April laughs. ‘I was trying so hard to make an impression. It was a total lie that I was the best.’

  ‘She was the best,’ says Leo. ‘She actually lined up the houses for me to see, based on exactly what I had asked for, and then drove me around from place to place. Who of you have ever had an estate agent do that? It’s like something from a book or movie. Usually you have to meet them at odd times, and then they’re always late.’

  April is always late, I think. Maybe this was a clever way to avoid that problem. Smart.

  ‘So basically we spent the morning together,’ says April. ‘At the beginning of the day, I wondered if I’d made a mistake. I mean, a whole morning in the car with a strange man. It could’ve gone very wrong. I would kill Reenie if she ever did anything so stupid.’

  ‘But I wasn’t a strange man,’ says Leo, and they have that well-oiled couple-story thing going on. ‘I was me.’

  ‘And at the end of the morning, I knew that he was the man for me,’ says April.