3
Sinead wheeled her bicycle up the path to the dilapidated, three-storey Victorian townhouse. She unlocked and opened the front door, carried her bike over the step into the hall, before leaning it against the wall. She removed her helmet while sifting through a stack of post on a side table. There was nothing interesting: a phone bill, takeaway menus, marketing mail-outs. No handwritten envelopes meant no birthday cards. Stupid fucking tradition anyway. Who sends cards these days?
Sinead cocked her head as she heard her housemates’ voices through the wall. Not the words, but the tone was clear: a joke was being told. She moved along the hallway, approaching the lounge. A roar of laughter exploded on the other side of the door. As she pushed it open, the laughter reached a crescendo. Sinead stepped partially inside, shielding half her body behind the door. The laughter ceased abruptly as her housemates became aware of her presence in the room.
Everyone stared at her, momentarily lost for words. The mood was ambiguous. Her hand gripped the door handle. Had they been talking about her? Sinead couldn’t be sure if she had been the butt of the joke or if she was being paranoid. On the nearest sofa, Sinead’s best friend, Heidi, sat up, flicking the fringe away from her eyes. She put on a welcoming grin.
‘Hey. We were just wondering where you’d got to.’
‘I went to a viewing after work.’
‘Oh. Cool. So how’d it go?’
‘Good. Yeah, I’m gonna take it.’
On the other sofa, Imogen and Joel were sprawled out, all interlocking arms and legs. Imogen – privileged, beautiful and aloof – barely acknowledged her, and Sinead responded in kind. Joel, tanned and honed in loose-fitting, Indian-style garments, resembled a young DiCaprio. And he knew it. Joel’s flirtatious gaze followed Sinead as she inched into the room.
He asked, ‘When are you moving then?’
‘Next Saturday.’ Sinead deliberately avoided his look. Sometimes he made her blush.
‘That’s quick work, Sinead. What’s the hurry?’ He flashed a toothy grin.
Imogen grabbed his arm and draped it across her chest. She said, ‘We really need to advertise her room. Could someone sort that out tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, I’m not getting lumbered with your share of the rent.’ Next to Heidi on the sofa, Magz was busy rolling a joint. Judging by the fresh smell of skunk in the house, it wasn’t the first of the day. Magz had been a girl too cool for any school, and as an adult she was becoming ice-cold.
‘I gave you six weeks’ notice – that’s hardly being lumbered, mate. And I’m paid up here until the end of the month,’ said Sinead.
Magz licked along the Rizla paper and sealed the spliff.
Heidi shifted along the sofa. ‘We’ll find someone. And Joel’s gonna start paying rent. It’s not a problem. Come and sit down.’
Sinead perched on the arm of the sofa. Heidi grabbed a glass from the coffee table and poured the last dregs of wine from the bottle.
‘That’s great news. I mean, it’s sad you’re leaving, obviously, but…’ Heidi awkwardly changed tack. ‘Anyway. Congratulations – oh and Happy Birthday!’ Heidi handed Sinead the glass, raised her own in a toast, and the others casually followed suit.
Heidi, Magz and Joel said, ‘Happy Birthday!’ Imogen reluctantly waved her glass, but said nothing.
Sinead put on a brave face and took a sip of wine. She managed to hide her disgust at the warm, oaky Chardonnay. Magz was trying to light her joint with a cheap plastic lighter. The only sound in the room was the flint sparking repeatedly. Heidi looked at the others, desperately trying to lift the mood.
‘God, I can’t believe you’re actually going, Sinead. What’s it been, like three or four years?’
‘Yeah. Just time for a fresh start, I guess,’ said Sinead. ‘Gonna miss you guys.’ It had been a difficult few months, but she wanted to make things right between them, starting tonight with the birthday celebrations. ‘Anyway, that’s not till next week. Shall we get pizzas in? I’ve got a bottle of voddie, we can preload before heading down the Constitutional. Let’s put some tunes on, get the party started.’
Sinead looked around the room, but there were no takers. This party was winding down. She turned to Heidi. Sinead knew that evasive look on her best friend’s face.
‘Yeah… um… actually…’ said Heidi.
Imogen was checking the time on her phone. ‘We need to get going, guys.’
Sinead’s birthday was being hijacked.
Heidi touched Sinead’s knee. ‘There’s a new club in Shoreditch. Free entry before nine. Are you up for it?’
‘Oh. Okay. Thought we said we’d be having the party here tonight.’
Heidi looked away sheepishly.
Joel said, ‘You should come. We’ll have a laugh.’
Imogen nudged him in the ribs. ‘She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. I mean it’s her choice, right?’ Sinead and Imogen locked eyes: both girls knew Imogen wasn’t trying to be nice. Sinead sipped some more of the cheap, nasty wine.
***
The black plastic tray of Singapore noodles rotated in the microwave oven. Sinead watched her birthday meal warming up. The digital timer showed another twenty-one seconds to go. She waited, reading the cardboard sleeve to see how much of the packaging was recyclable. Heidi entered, her face made up and wearing her best party dress.
‘Are you sure you won’t come?’ She touched Sinead’s upper arm. ‘I feel bad.’
‘I’ve been on my feet all day.’ Sinead kept her eyes on the food tray. ‘Eat, bath, bed – that’s all I’m good for tonight.’ Heidi hovered by her side.
‘Heidi? We’ll miss the train,’ Imogen called from the hallway.
‘Just a minute!’ shouted Heidi. She gave Sinead her puppy-dog eyes. ‘You know I’d stay in with you, but I’ve arranged to meet Tim there and–’
Ping! The oven light turned off. Sinead opened the door and removed the container.
‘It’s fine. Honestly. Anyway, I’m saving money for house-moving expenses.’
‘Are you sure this is what you want? I mean, really sure?’
‘Heidi, just go!’
‘I don’t mean the club – I mean you moving out. It’s not too late if you want to stay. We can have a house-meeting, try and sort things out.’
‘What’s the point? I’ve made up my mind.’ Sinead removed the film on the container and stirred the noodles with a spoon. ‘It’s for the best. I know when I’m not wanted.’
‘That’s not true! I know it’s been hard for you, but it’s been hard for everyone. Imogen and Magz, they’re just not used to dealing with heavy life stuff.’
Sinead paused, mid-stir. Heidi’s implied reference to Sinead’s mother was not something she wanted to hear. Not today, not when she was trying so hard to keep it together. A wave of sadness washed over her, but she refused to cry. Heidi saw it on her face, though, and when Sinead turned away, she hugged her. Sinead’s fingers gripped her friend’s arms above the elbow.
Quickly, Sinead composed herself and faked a laugh. ‘I’m all right. Go on – have fun.’
Heidi broke away and headed for the door. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’ She smiled at Sinead before leaving the kitchen. Sinead opened the fridge. She held the door ajar and looked at the photos secured on the outside by magnets: group shots from their university days, silly poses with drinks in their hands.
Sinead and her mates in happier times.
***
Red liquid swirled in the cascading water. Sinead sat naked on the side of the tub, pouring in bubble bath. Her friends would probably be queuing outside the club by now. And here she was, having a soak and an early night like an old loser. On her ‘special day’! That’s what Elliot had called it. She wondered if he believed that it was her birthday. Probably not, but it had worked a treat, getting her inside the bungalow. That place was special. So quiet and peaceful, and just what she needed to come back to after a hard day at work. It hadn’t been the best birthday, but she’d definitely given herself the best present.