Jane Green - Bookends

PENGUIN BOOKS

BOOKENDS

Praise for Jane Greens Spellbound

If youre new to the genius of Ms Green, we can exclusively reveal that she is amazing. With a capital A Heat Green whips up a sparkling morality tale that points the finger at bad boys and low-rent romance Independent Happy and melancholic this beautifully written novel from the author of Babyville explores the effects of a husbands repeated infidelity She A compulsive read, with women you cant help rooting for New Woman A deftly humorous and insightful take on modern marriage Cosmopolitan An engaging, grown-up read Company An emotional rollercoaster of a read OK! A warm and enjoyable read that brims with energy and a sense of fun Woman & Home A sexy, romantic read Waterstones Books Quarterly Guaranteed to gratify those with even the most voracious of appetites for feel-good fiction Jewish Chronicle

Praise for Jane Greens earlier bestsellers:

Green writes with acerbic wit about the law of the dating jungle, and its obsession with image, and the novels as comforting as a bacon sandwich Sunday Express A brilliantly funny novel about something close to every womans heart her stomach Womans Own Any woman whos suffered a relationship trauma will die for this book wickedly funny it may not improve your life but it will make you squeal with laughter Cosmopolitan Spot on Once you pick up Babyville , its unlikely youll be able to put it down Mirror An emotional and humorous novel Telegraph

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jane Green lives in Connecticut and London with her husband and four children. She is the author of Straight Talking, Jemima J, Mr Maybe, Bookends, Babyville and Spellbound .

Bookends

JANE GREEN

PENGUIN BOOKS

PENGUIN BOOKS

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Penguin Putnam Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

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Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

www.penguin.com

First published 2000

Copyright Jane Green, 2000

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publishers prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

ISBN: 978-0-14-190316-3

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the following people for their support, kindness and help: Dr Patrick French at the Mortimer Market Centre; Adam Wilkinson at Body Positive; Marek, Jessica and all at the Primrose Hill Bookshop; James Phillips and Andrew Benbow at Books Etc. in Whiteleys; Laurent Burel; Yasmin Rahaman; Tricia Anker.

My inner circle: Annie, Giselle, Caroline and Julian, and finally David, for everything.

Chapter one

The first time I met Josh, I thought he was a nice guy but a transient friend. The first time I met Si I fell hopelessly in love and prayed Id somehow be able to convert him.

But the first time I met Portia I thought Id found my soulmate.

She was the sister Id always longed for, the best friend Id always wished I had, and I truly and honestly thought that, no matter what happened with our lives, we would stay friends for ever.

For ever feels a long time when youre eighteen. When youre away from home for the first time in your life, when you forge instant friendships that are so strong they are destined, surely, to be with you until the bitter end.

I met Josh right at the beginning, just a few weeks after the Freshers Ball. Id seen him in the Students Union, propping up the bar after a rugby game, looking for all the world like the archetypal upper-class rugger bugger twit, away from home with too much money and too much arrogance.

He naturally started chatting up Portia, alcohol giving him a confidence he lacked when sober (although I didnt know that at the time), and despite the rebuffs he kept going until his friends dragged him away to find easier prey.

Im sure we would all have left it at that, but I bumped into him the next day, in the library, and he recognized me instantly and apologized for embarrassing us; and gradually we started to see him more and more, until hed firmly established himself as one of the gang.

Id already met Si by then, had already fallen in love with his cheeky smile and extravagant gestures. I was helping out one of the girls on my course who was auditioning for a production of Cabaret . It was my job to collect names and send them into the rehearsal hall for the audition.

Si was the only person who turned up in full costume. As Sally Bowles. In fishnet stockings, bowler hat and full make-up, he didnt bat an eyelid as the others slouched down in their hard, wooden chairs, staring, jealous as hell of his initiative. And his legs.

He went in, bold as brass, and proceeded to give the worst possible rendition of Cabaret that Ive ever heard, but with such brazen confidence you could almost forgive him for being entirely tone-deaf.

Everybody went crazy when hed finished. They went crazy because he so obviously loved, loved , being centre stage. None of us had ever seen such enthusiasm, but even though Si knew every song, word for word, he had to be content with camping it up as the narrator, as Helen, the director, said she never wanted to hear him sing again.

Eddie was a friend of Josh. A sweet gentle boy from Leeds who should probably have been overwhelmed by our combined personalities, but somehow wasnt. He was easy company, and always willing to do anything for anybody he cared about, which was mostly us, at the time.

And then of course there was Portia. So close that our names became intertwined: Catherine and Portia. Two for the price of one.

I met Portia on my very first day at university. We were sitting in the halls of residence common room, waiting for a talk to begin, all sizing each other up, all wondering whom to befriend, who seemed like our type , when this stunningly elegant girl strode in on long, long, legs, crunching an apple and looking like she didnt have a care in the world.

Portia, with her mane of dark auburn hair that reached down between her shoulderblades. Portia, with her cool green eyes and dirty laugh. Portia, who looked like she should have been a class-A bitch, but was, then, the greatest friend Id ever had.

Her confidence took my breath away, and, when she flung her bag down on the floor and sank into the empty chair next to mine, I prayed shed be my friend. She stretched out, showing off buttersoft suede thigh-high boots, exactly the boots Id dreamt of wearing if I ever got thin enough, and, taking a last bite of the apple, tossed it with an expert flick of the wrist into the dustbin on the other side of the room.

Yesss! she hissed triumphantly, her cut-glass accent slicing through the room. I knew all those years as goal shooter would pay off sometime, and then she turned to me. Im Portia. When does this bloody thing start?

Portia had more than enough confidence for both of us. We found, within minutes, that despite our different backgrounds we had the same vicious sense of humour, the same slightly ironic take on life, although it took a few years for the cynicism to set in.

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