‘So whatcha do last night?’ she asked, moving around the bed and sitting at Emily’s desk chair.

‘Went to the Bilderberg Room with Connie and Debbie.’

‘Sounds great!’

‘Er, yes, it was. Good music’

‘Like what?’

I listed some of the songs and all the time I was wondering, When is the snogging going to start?

‘I went for dinner at Shakers,’ Lara said. ‘Up in Clearwater Canyon. Great food. You should go.’

‘OK.’ The waiting had got too much to bear, so I stood up –I had to because she was quite a way from me – forced her to her feet and pulled her to me. But before I could plant my lips on hers, she’d placed the palm of her hand on my chest and straightened her arm.

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘I’m really sorry, Maggie, but I don’t think we should do this.’

‘’Cos of Emily being outside?’

‘No. I don’t think we should do it, period.’

I mouthed her words, repeating them back to myself until it sank in. ‘You want to break up with me?’

‘Um, yeah, you got it.’

‘But why? What was wrong with me? Why did I keep getting rejected?

She fixed me with her blue laser beams and said candidly, ‘I was sore after Nadia and I was curious about you. It seemed like a good idea at the time, you know…? I’m way sorry’

‘So didn’t you fancy me at all?’

‘Sure!’

‘Since when?’

‘Since… ah, since the night I found out about Nadia and you were real nice to me.’

‘Not since I first came to Los Angeles, then?’ I didn’t know why this was so important, but it was.

‘Not straight off, no. See, you’re a little confused right now, ‘cos of your marriage and Troy, and I’m real sorry but I think I took advantage of you.’

‘Um…’

‘Like, you’re great, you’re really great.’

‘But not great enough.’

‘It’s not that, it’s like… I don’t know how to say this…’

‘I’m not your type?’

‘Don’t be pissed at me,’ she said sadly.

Very hurt, I swallowed. ‘So what is your type? Girls like Nadia, I suppose.’

‘Yeah, I suppose.’

‘And why? She had a great body?’

Uncomfortably, Lara assented.

Now, I wasn’t expecting that. I thought men made choices based purely on physical attraction, but I expected girls to be less shallow. Doesn’t a good personality count for anything any more? I wondered bitterly.

‘You’ve got a great body too,’ Lara said, so nicely it took some of my mortification away. ‘But because she usta be a dancer, you know… And, like, she really took care of herself.’

‘It was my nails, wasn’t it?’

‘It didn’t help,’ she admitted.

‘And… ‘I made myself say it, ‘was my… you know… bum… um, bit… the wrong colour?’

She shrugged. ‘I didn’t really see it. But Maggie, it’s not about that. I’m pretty sure your natural inclination is not to be with girls…’

There, she’d said it.

‘… and I swear to you that if I didn’t break up with you, you’d break up with me real soon.’

I paused, wondering if I should play the pity card or go for pride. Pride won. Actually, I wanted to do it today, but I didn’t know how.’

‘What?’ she said sharply. ‘And here I am feeling totally like the worst person ever!’

‘Yes.’ All at once the silliness of the situation struck home and I began to laugh. ‘Tell me, Lara, tell me honestly, was I terrible?’

She stared at me and a smile creased her face as she filled up with mirth. ‘No, but I’ve gotta say I’ve had better.’

‘Me too.’

And suddenly we exploded into convulsions, huge belly laughs of relief and liberation and the full-on insanity of it all.

When we eventually quieted down I said, ‘But we’ll still be friends, right?’ And that was enough to start us all over again.

‘Keep Wednesday night free,’ she said, before she left. ‘For the première of Doves.’

When the door had shut behind her, I cornered Emily. ‘I’ve good news for you. It’s all off with me and Lara.’

She stopped her frantic typing. ‘What happened?’

‘She broke it off with me. Says I’m not her type.’

‘So what’s the story? You hate her now like you hate Troy and every time she comes over here you’ll stick a fork in her leg?’

Aghast, my heart pounded. ‘No, we’re friends.’

‘That’s a relief.’

‘Emily, I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘Sleeping with all your friends. I won’t do it again.’

‘You can sleep with who you like. It’s the bad atmosphere when it doesn’t work out that I don’t like.’

‘I won’t be sleeping with anyone else. I was off the rails and out of control, but I’m OK now. I’m sorry. It’s back to being clean-living Maggie – I’m just not cut out for anything else. I might even join an enclosed order.’

Emily shook her head. ‘Some sort of middle ground might be nice.’ Then she added, But thank Christ you knocked that lezzer lark on the head before the arrival of Mammy Walsh. Else we’d have all been in the soup.’

I heartily agreed.

35

After the second miscarriage, I cried for four solid days. I know people often say things like ‘I cried for a week,’ when they mean they cried on and off for a few days, but I really did cry non-stop for four days. I even cried in my sleep. I was hazily aware of people coming and going, tiptoeing around my bed and whispering to Garv, ‘How is she now?’

By the time I stopped crying, my eyes were so swollen I looked like I’d been beaten up and the surface of my face was white and crusty like those dried-out salt lakes that you see in the desert.

In the past, when I’d heard about women having miscarriages, I couldn’t imagine their sadness, because I suppose I wondered how you could miss something you’d never had. I could identify with other losses – if one of my friends got dumped by their boyfriend, I felt lonely, rejected and humiliated for them. Or if someone belonging to a friend died, I could go some way to understanding the shock, the grief and the very weirdness of death, even though my grandparents were the only people I’d loved who’d died.