Putting Alice Back Together. Carol Marinelli

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СКАЧАТЬ all that.’ I shook my head firmly. ‘You’re only thirty-four, Roz. You’re nowhere near past it, though with that attitude…’ My voice trailed off as again Roz shook her head.

      ‘It’s nothing to do with my age.’ She gave a wheezy laugh, which turned into a cough. Then just when she managed to finally get her breath back, when the blue tinge left her lips and the broken veins bulging on her cheeks faded somewhat, she stubbed out her cigarette and lit another. ‘When I say past it, I mean I’m over it.’

      ‘Over what?’

      ‘Trying to please people—I had enough of it with Andrew. No matter how thin I was, no matter how good I looked, it was never enough. Look, I see how long you spend on your hair…’

      ‘It makes me feel nice,’ I smarted. ‘Believe me, Roz, I don’t want to spend all those hours, but better that than walking around like I’ve got my finger in a plug socket. It’s important to take care of yourself.’

      ‘I’m not going there again.’

      ‘Looking good isn’t just about pleasing people, Roz,’ I answered tartly. ‘This is about pleasing yourself, about self-respect.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ Roz mumbled. ‘It just seems like such a lot of work and for what?’

      Okay, so softly, softly wasn’t going to work here. I’m not very good at being firm, but really I know I sound like a bitch, I know I sound superficial and I know I probably am all those things, but I truly wasn’t being bitchy or superficial at that moment. I was actually in a real predicament—one I hadn’t even told Dan about.

      Roz smelt!

      I would never say it to Dan because, well, with Dan it would be bitching, but it wasn’t just me who thought it. Since Roz started on my team I’d had four complaints about her personal hygiene. Yes, she smokes, but it wasn’t just that—I smoke, half the team smokes.

      The fact was Roz smelt.

      I really did think Roz was depressed, I mean properly depressed. I truly didn’t know what to do about it and I had no bloody idea how to approach her questionable hygiene, but I had to, because if I didn’t deal with it, I’d be complained about. One of the managers, like Claire, would then no doubt have a less than sensitive word with Roz—which would kill her.

      I’d bought her smellies as presents, but that was as far as I’d got. How do you tell a good friend, and one who is very sensitive, that, on occasion, she reeks?

      ‘Why don’t I rub in this hair mask for you and then we can both put on face-packs and then you can have a shower…’

      ‘I really can’t be bothered.’

      ‘Come on, Roz—you have to get back out there!’ I paused for effect, gave her a wide-eyed, very direct stare. ‘I mean, I understand you might need a break after your divorce but sooner or later you’re going to want to start dating again, and when you do, well…’

      ‘I’ve got a date.’ Her broken capillaries darkened, and she gave a shy smile.

      ‘When?’

      ‘Tomorrow night?’

      ‘Who?’ My mind raced. When had this happened? The only person Roz went out with was me, and there wasn’t one person at work I could think of…

      Unless.

      ‘Trevor.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘The computer whiz, the one who comes around…’

      ‘Oh, please!’ Roz was coughing again, clearly appalled at the suggestion, and in fairness I’d be appalled at the suggestion too. Trevor had Roz’s split-ends problem only his covered the whole of his face, and deodorant clearly wasn’t at the top of his shopping trolley.

      ‘Then who?’

      She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Alice; I don’t want to jinx myself.’

      I saw an opening.

      ‘But you want to look nice?’ I nudged the pack across the table.

      ‘I guess,’ she said slowly, and I felt her waver, took it as a positive sign and moved quickly to build on it. ‘I know it’s what’s inside that matters, Roz, but you’ve only got a small window of time to make that first impression. I read that it takes less that a second for a person to form an opinion, less than a second,’ I reiterated as Roz started to frown. ‘You can be the nicest person in the world but if you don’t look the part, no one’s going to come over and find out.’ She was frowning deeply now, so I put it in simpler terms: ‘It’s fabulous you’ve got a date, Roz.’ A bloody miracle really, I almost added, but held back. ‘It’s fabulous that you’re getting back into the swing of things. And whoever he is, he clearly likes you for who you are…’ She opened her mouth to speak but I overrode her. ‘Surely you want to show that you’ve made a bit of an effort for him.’

      She didn’t answer, just stared into her empty glass, and for an appalling moment I thought she was going to cry. Actually, it wasn’t even a moment. About ten seconds later she started to howl, not delicately (this is Roz we’re talking about) but great throaty sobs that caught in her throat and made her cough at the same time.

      ‘God, Roz, I’m sorry.’ So much for softly, softly. So much for helping. Here was poor Roz blubbering on my sofa, crying her eyes out and feeling fat and ugly and worthless, and it was all my fault. ‘Don’t listen to me,’ I said, appalled at what I’d done, wrapping my arms as far around her shoulders as I could and squeezing tight. ‘What would I bloody know? You look fabulous,’ I said firmly, so firmly even I thought I sounded as if I meant it. ‘You’re going to knock his socks off…’

      ‘No, Alice.’

      ‘Yes, you are!’ I insisted as Roz took a deep breath and calmed herself, finally looking up as I cracked open a bottle of Baileys. ‘Feel better?’

      She gave a sort of sorry nod, forced a bit of a watery smile and stared at me as I handed her back a very full glass.

      ‘Tell you what,’ I said frantically, terrified she might start crying again or—even worse—leave, ‘why don’t I ring for a pizza?’

      ‘You don’t eat carbs.’

      ‘I’ll pick at the cheese,’ I said quickly, ‘and smoke.’ I held my breath, held it so hard I thought my lungs were going to explode but finally after the longest time she nodded.

      ‘Better?’ I asked again, and this time she gave a firmer nod.

      ‘Much.’

      ‘You’re not just saying that?’

      ‘No.’ She gave a loud sniff and I thought the tears were about to start again, but to my utter relief she started to laugh, really laugh. ‘Oh, Alice!’ She shook her head and then picked up my fifty-dollar cream and started massaging it into her hooves. ‘Oh, Alice,’ she said again, and something in her eyes didn’t add up, because for all the world I felt as if she were placating me, as if she was going СКАЧАТЬ