Monica Ali - Untold Story

Some stories are never meant to be told. Some can only be told as fairy tales.

Once upon a time three girlfriends threw a little party for a fourth who had yet to arrive by the time the first bottle of Pinot Grigio had been downed. Walk with me now across the backyard of the neat suburban house, in this street of widely spaced heartlands, past the kids bike and baseball bat staged just so on the satin green lawn, up to the sweet glow of the kitchen window, and take a look inside. Three women, one dark, one blonde, the third a redheadall in their prime, those tenuous years when middle age is held carefully at bay. There they are, sitting at the table, innocent of their unreality, oblivious to the story, naively breathing in and out.

Where is Lydia? says Amber, the blonde. She is a neat little package. Delicate features, Peter Pan collar dress, French tip manicure. Where the heck can she be?

We holding off on the sandwiches, right? says Suzie, the dark-haired friend. She didnt have time to get changed before she came out. There is a splash of Bolognese sauce on her T-shirt. She made it in a hurry and left it for the kids and babysitter to eat. These reduced-calorie Ruffles? Forget it, not going there. She pushes the bowl of chips away.

Should I call her again? says Amber. I left three messages already. She closed up her clothing store an hour early to be sure to get everything ready on time.

The redhead, Tevis, takes a small phallus-shaped crystal out of her pocket and sets it on the table. She says, I had a premonition this morning.

You see a doctor about that? Suzie, in her favorite khaki pants and stained T-shirt, sits like a man, right ankle on left knee. She gives Amber a wink.

You guys can mock all you want, says Tevis. She has come straight from work. In her pantsuit, with her hair in a tight bun, pursing her lips, she looks close to primthe opposite of how she would want to be seen.

Were not mocking, says Amber. Was it about Lydia?

Not specifically, says Tevis in a very Tevis way. She cups her hands above the stone.

You carry that around with you? says Suzie. Her hair is aubergine dark, a hint of purple, and has that freshly colored shine. She plucks a carrot out of the refrigerator and peels it directly onto the table that has been laid with the pretty crockery, hand-painted red and pink roses, fine bone china cups and saucers with handles so small they make you crook your little finger, just like a real English high tea. Dont worry, Im clearing this up.

You better, says Amber, but she reaches across and scoops up the peelings herself. If Lydia walks in that second everything has to look right. She feels guilty about packing Serena and Tyler off to friends houses when theyd wanted to stay and say happy birthday to Lydia. Wouldnt Lydia have preferred to see the children rather than have everything arranged just so? Amber tucks her hair behind her ears and pulls a loose thread from her sleeve. Please say it wasnt about her.

Jeez Louise, says Suzie. Shell be working late. You know how she loves those dogs.

Why isnt she answering her phone? says Amber.

I didnt wrap her present. Think shell mind? Suzie snaps off the end of the carrot with her front teeth. The teeth are strong and white but irregular; they strike an attitude.

Im not trying to worry anyone, says Tevis. She puts the crystal back in the pocket of her tailored jacket. She is a Realtor and has to look smart. Its not who she is. Its what she does. As she herself has pointed out many times. But this is a town full of skeptics, people who buy into all that bricks-and-mortar-and-white-goods fandango instead of having their chakras cleansed.

Seriously, says Suzie, youre not. She loves Tevis. Tevis has no kids so you talked about other stuff. Suzie has four kids and once youd talked about those and then talked about the other moms kids, it was time to head home and pack sports gear for the following day. Tevis being childless meant you felt a bit sorry for her, and a bit jealous. Probably the same way she felt about you. She could be dreamy, or she could be intense, or some strange combination of the two. And she was fun to tease.

Remember what happened last time? says Tevis.

Last time what? You had a premonition? Is it about Lydia or not? Amber, she is pretty sure, knows Lydia better than the others do. She got friendly with her first, nearly three years ago now.

I dont know, says Tevis. Its just a bad feeling. I had it this morning, right after I got out of the shower.

I had a bad feeling in the shower this morning, says Suzie. I felt like I was going to eat a whole box of Pop-Tarts for breakfast.

How late is she anyway? God, an hour and a half. Amber looks wistfully at the silver cake forks fanned out near the center of the table. They were nearly black when she found them in the antiques store over on Fairfax, but have cleaned up beautifully.

And guess what, said Suzie. I did. The whole freakin box.

Tevis takes off her jacket. The air always gets like this before a thunderstorm.

What? says Suzie. Its a beautiful evening. Youre not in Chicago anymore.

Im just saying, says Tevis. She fixes Suzie a stare.

Come on, Tevis, dont try to creep us out. The cucumber sandwiches are beginning to curl at the edges. It is kind of dumb, Amber knows it, to have English high tea at seven in the evening. More like eight thirty now.