Stand Up Guy, page 17
‘This is nice.’ I raise my eyebrows at Shep. ‘Tanya must be on good money to be living here.’
I locate and press the buzzer to her apartment, then we wait patiently until someone answers.
‘Hello?’ It sounds like it might be one of Tanya’s teenage kids.
‘Oh, hi. It’s Lea and Shep. Your mum’s expecting us.’
There’s no response other than the click of the door being unlocked, followed by the intercom handset being dumped clumsily back in its cradle.
‘Thank you,’ I call into the intercom, despite knowing I won’t be heard.
Shrugging at Shep, I push the main door open and we enter the building foyer, which is a damned sight more inviting than the claustrophobic musty-smelling stairwell where I live.
‘I am so jealous that they have a lift,’ I practically moan as I hit the button to call it.
‘Lifts are for lazy people,’ says Shep. ‘And people who need them, obviously. Your stairs will keep you fit and healthy.’
‘Yeah, let’s see if you feel the same after several years of climbing mine.’
The moment this comment is out of my mouth, I instantly regret it. It was intended as off the cuff and light-hearted, but it was also carelessly shared, and its insinuations (i.e. that I’m starting to hope for something longer term) are clear. I can tell that Shep is trying to pretend he hasn’t noticed, but his expression and body language leave me in little doubt he’s interpreted it in the way I’m fearing.
We take the lift to the fifth floor in silence, me stewing over my cock-up, and Shep… well, who knows what he’s thinking. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. When the lift doors ping open, we step out into a small corridor with just three doors, one of which is wide open, allowing us to see a long spacious hallway with expensive-looking laminate flooring.
Approaching the open doorway, I double-check the apartment number, then I hesitate and look uncertainly at Shep.
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Hope we’ve got the right place, or someone’s about to get one hell of a surprise.’
Suddenly, the door at the very end of the hallway is yanked open and Tanya bustles through it, wearing a floaty pastel-coloured summer dress.
‘Jacob, I thought I told you to let our guests in,’ she hollers to what seems like no one in particular as she strides along the hallway towards us.
‘I did let them in,’ the same voice we heard through the intercom yells from behind one of the doors.
‘I meant greet them at the door and bring them through to the sitting room,’ she barks back, then turns her attention to us. ‘I’m so sorry, you two. Honestly, you would have thought they were raised by wolves. Come on in. I’ve got the fizz – and the whisky – ready.’ Her gaze lands on Shep. ‘It’s lovely to meet you…’
‘Ciaran,’ he quickly supplies, which is helpful as Tanya clearly doesn’t want to address him by his nickname, and it seems she’s forgotten his real one.
‘Ah, of course. Ciaran.’ Tanya gives him a sparkling smile. ‘Lea’s told me such wonderful things about you.’
‘Has she now?’ He obediently plays up to Tanya’s effusiveness, but doesn’t look at me, which I take as another bad sign.
‘Oh, yes.’ Tanya’s totally oblivious to the unfortunate dynamics at play. ‘And I’m hoping you’ll be telling me equally wonderful things about her tonight.’
I wince at this remark, while Tanya beckons for us to follow her into the living room, which is huge, with the biggest corner sofa I’ve ever seen and the same floor-to-ceiling windows I was admiring from outside. There’s also a set of French doors that open onto a sizeable garden terrace, complete with elegant outdoor furniture and planters bursting with a kaleidoscope of colourful summer flowers.
My jaw drops in astonishment. ‘Wow, Tanya. Your apartment is incredible.’
‘It is a lovely aspect.’ She hands me a glass of fizz and Shep a whisky, and we thank her. ‘Ciaran, my husband, John, suggested you start with a Ballavulin. I’m supposed to give you some story about it being the malt he cut his teeth on, but I suspect it’s his way of testing if you’re a real whisky drinker. As far as I’m concerned, any peaty malt tastes like I’ve landed face down in a bog.’
‘So not a fan, then?’ Shep grins at her and I can tell he’s filing all this away as inspiration for future show material.
Still stuck on how amazing the apartment is, I wander across to the window to get a proper look at the view.
‘Oh gosh, you’re overlooking the Water of Leith. Tanya, this place is stunning. It’s like something out of a luxury lifestyle magazine.’
‘It certainly didn’t come from a paltry university salary, before you get ideas.’ She winks at me. ‘John used to work in academia, like me, before he went through an early midlife crisis and sold his soul to the finance industry. Not that I’m complaining. It means I get to live here, and I hardly see him due to the ridiculous hours he works. That’s what I call win-win. Ah, here he is, the apple of my eye…’
Shep and I share a look roughly translated as ‘did she actually just say that?’, as Tanya’s husband, John, enters the room, and I have to look away to avoid laughing out loud and giving the poor man a complex.
‘Evening.’ He nods politely at us, then Tanya does the introductions, and we respond with the usual pleasantries and chit-chat.
John is exactly what I’d imagined as a partner for Tanya. He’s tall, slim and balding, with glasses and crinkly eyes that put you at ease with one look. And he’s wearing jeans, a plaid shirt and a tweed jacket.
‘Why don’t the two of you head out to the terrace with your drinks while John helps me with the starters,’ suggests Tanya. ‘There are some nibbles on the table, provided those ruddy seagulls haven’t already eaten them or shat on them.’
She all but shoos us through the French doors while dragging her protesting husband, who’d clearly rather be relaxing with a malt, off to the kitchen.
Stepping out onto the terrace and into the warm(ish) evening air, I breathe deeply and give a laboured sigh. ‘Isn’t this the life?’
‘It’s not bad at all,’ says Shep, but rather than joining me where I’m leaning on the balustrade, he makes a beeline for the snacks on the table, which fortunately seem to have escaped the attention of the gulls.
I try to stay in the moment, enjoying my fizz while taking in the view, but of course, my brain won’t let me. Not when there’s a lingering awkwardness between us. Though the last thing I want to do is make things worse, I also can’t bear the idea of this becoming a thing. Turning away from the view, I join him at the table.
‘That comment I made before… about how you’d feel after climbing the stairs in my building for some time. It was just banter, you know? I didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘I know.’ He pops a couple of cashew nuts in his mouth and parks himself on the cream outdoor sofa.
‘You know?’ I frown. ‘Then why did you go all weird when I said it?’
Shep looks like he’s contemplating how to answer this, perhaps trying to decide how to respond in a way that gets him in the least bother. Just as it seems he might be about to say something, Tanya and John appear through the French doors.
‘How are you two getting on?’ She beams at us expectantly.
She obviously isn’t asking this with any deliberate intent, but with my unanswered question still hanging in the air, her words have the effect of reigniting the stiltedness between us. Thankfully, Tanya and John appear oblivious to this, and she seems to read our tight smiles as genuine.
‘It’s not a patch on the Med.’ Tanya waves her arm theatrically. ‘But it’s our little paradise spot, isn’t it, John?’
‘So you keep telling everyone who visits.’ John winks at us, while Tanya pulls a bored face.
‘Don’t mind him. You’ll eventually forget he’s there.’
Stifling a giggle, I steal a glance at Shep, who seems to be doing the same.
‘The starters won’t be long,’ says Tanya. ‘Jacob is going to keep an eye on them. In the meantime, Ciaran, we’re fascinated to hear about your experience at the Fringe. I’ve never met a comedian before.’
From the way she’s watching him, you’d think Tanya had discovered a novel fragment of genetic material – and from the way Shep responds, it seems he’s also picked up on this.
‘We’re a fairly unremarkable species, really,’ he says. ‘We eat, sleep and shit the same as everyone else.’
I blanch at this remark, my panicked eyes darting to Tanya and John, who thankfully seem quite amused by it.
‘No, it’s great being a comedian in many ways, but it’s tough too. Like it is for so many creatives – actors, writers, artists. We’re all chasing the dream, hoping for that big break, but the reality is: for most of us it’s a penniless life in pursuit of the Holy Grail.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Tanya nods. ‘We don’t value our creatives enough in this country.’
‘But you’re doing well with your show, aren’t you?’ I’m keen to throw in some supportive words.
Shep nods, taking my cue. ‘Aye, it’s going OK. It’s a free show, in case Lea hasn’t mentioned it.’
‘Everyone’s got to start somewhere.’ John sips at his whisky reflectively. ‘How’s the Ballavulin?’
‘Rich and peaty. Just how I like it.’
‘Good man.’ John tips his head in approval. ‘So, your show is being received well, it seems.’ He says this as a statement rather than a question, which catches my attention.
‘It is,’ says Shep. ‘I’ve had a full house for several days now. I’m chuffed about that.’
‘And he got a positive write-up in the media,’ I can’t help pitching in.
‘I saw that,’ says John. ‘In one of the broadsheets. Tanya had mentioned your stage name, so it jumped out at me.’
I furrow my brow. ‘No, that was online. On the Main Attraction site.’
Tanya and John scoff in unison and I give them a bewildered look.
‘Apologies.’ Tanya reaches out and touches my forearm. ‘It’s just that there’s no way John has been on the Main Attraction website. He’s a literature snob in the same way that I am an intolerant mother. Darling, why don’t you see if you can find the paper you saw it in?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He playfully salutes her and disappears inside, returning a minute or so later holding a newspaper folded open at the Culture section. ‘Here we are, Ciaran. Your name in lights.’
Shep and I huddle over the short article, which mentions ‘razor-sharp wit’, ‘a refreshing approach to stand-up’ and Shep doubtlessly returning in the future as a paid act.
‘Shep, this is amazing!’ I beam at him. ‘You’ve been endorsed by a broadsheet now too. That’s a big deal.’
I can see he’s trying to play it cool because of the company we’re in, but from the twinkle I can see in Shep’s eye, he’s clearly buzzing.
‘Thanks a million for sharing this, John.’ He passes the paper back and John holds up his hand to stop him.
‘Keep it as a souvenir. It would only end up in the recycling.’
‘Well, I think this calls for a celebratory toast,’ declares Tanya.
She plucks the bottle of fizz from the cooler on the table, quickly tops up her glass as well as mine, then pours some fizz for Shep and John, handing them each a flute.
‘To a bright future in the funny industry.’ Tanya holds out her glass and we obediently follow her lead, clinking and saying ‘cheers’.
Just as we’re leaning back in our seats with contented expressions, a deafening beeping from inside the apartment rips through the pleasant ambience.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, that child of ours can’t be trusted to wipe his own backside.’ Tanya thrusts her flute in John’s free hand and dashes indoors to deal with what are probably now very burnt starters.
Chapter 26
After a slight delay while the living room is aired, and a second batch of starters are whipped up and put in the oven, we sit down to eat at Tanya and John’s huge rustic oak dining table. John pours a ‘Pouilly-Fumé with notes of citrus, exotic fruits and white flowers’ – that’s white wine to the rest of us – which is delicious and evidently not a cheap bottle, so I have to concede that it does deserve the pretentious introduction. Our starters of Stilton, pear and walnut soufflé are equally mouth-watering – not something I’ve had before, and I decide I’d like to have a shot at making them myself at some point.
The conversation at the table is light, humorous and enjoyable, with Tanya and John bickering good-naturedly throughout. It seems clear that, while they publicly rib and goad each other, they’re a solid couple who are still very much in love, despite Tanya’s occasional comments to the contrary. Their childlike behaviour aside, it feels like a very grown-up experience and I really quite like it. It’s different to going to the pub or on a night out – very much a ‘coupley’ experience. I actually feel a bit sad when I realise it’s not something that’s likely to be repeated when Shep moves on, and I’m living the single life again.
We’re just starting on our main course of venison wellington with potato dauphinoise and steamed vegetables – another culinary triumph (who would have guessed Tanya was a chef extraordinaire!) – when the conversation comes back round to Shep and his comedy career. Or rather, how I helped to save his comedy career.
‘So, Ciaran…’ Tanya has a glint in her eye that puts me on edge. ‘It seems, with these gushing write-ups, that the only way is up for you now.’
‘That’s certainly what I’m hoping.’ Shep saws through his venison wellington with his steak knife and pops a piece in his mouth.
‘I think it’s wonderful that things have worked out so well for you. And to think, if you and Lea hadn’t bumped into each other that day, it might have been a different story altogether.’
‘I’ve had that thought many times myself.’ He nods, while I try to catch Tanya’s eye to signal to her not to take this topic of conversation any further.
She either doesn’t notice me or – more likely – she purposefully avoids my stare.
‘It’s almost as if there was a little bit of fate going on there, don’t you think?’ She proceeds to wander into conversational territory I really don’t want her in.
‘I honestly can’t thank Lea enough.’ He reaches across and pats my back affectionately, while I force a smile in return. ‘I’m not sure I believe in that hocus-pocus stuff, though.’
‘Of course.’ Tanya seems to reflect for a moment, while I attempt to burn a hole through her face with my retinas. ‘Being a scientist, I probably don’t either. I guess I’m just a hopeful romantic – love a bit of serendipity. And the two of you make such a lovely couple.’
Oh God. She did not just do that. If Tanya weren’t my senior colleague, she’d be getting a kick under the table right about now. Well, if I could actually reach her under this gigantic oak tree. Unfortunately, all I can do is look on helplessly as this cringeworthy exchange continues to unfold. As this rate, poor Shep will be thinking we cooked this evening up together to try and move things on between him and I – especially after my unfortunate comment earlier on.
Having taken another mouthful of venison at the wrong moment, Shep does that hand gesture thing that indicates he’ll respond as soon as he’s swallowed. I suppose I should consider it a relief that he hasn’t choked on his food. Unable to look at him, I play with my own meal, waiting with bated breath for his reply. I’m desperate to hear something to reassure me that he’s not freaked out by Tanya’s blatant attempts at playing Cupid. Even better would be a glimmer of something positive – any indication that Shep sees a future for us beyond the end of the festival.
In the end, I get neither.
‘I think we all know I’m punching above my weight. Right, Lea?’ He says eventually, giving me a comical nudge while I wither in my seat. ‘She wasn’t even attracted to me to begin with.’
‘At least you know your place in the pecking order. Always best to know who’s boss,’ John quips, earning himself a look from Tanya that ironically confirms his statement.
‘At my ripe age, Ciaran, I have plenty of wisdom stored up that I like to impart on you young ones,’ Tanya proclaims, as if there are several decades between us, when in fact it can’t be any more than twenty years. ‘I also have much more useful advice than my husband, and I guarantee you that a relationship built on a true connection, trust and mutual respect will last longer and be far more fulfilling than one based on animalistic sexual attraction.’
She pauses briefly to sip from her wine glass, and I sneak an anxious look at Shep. He appears somewhat bemused by this ‘speech’, which has seemingly come from nowhere.
‘That’s not to say that great sex isn’t something to aim for,’ she continues, making me wish I could tape over her mouth. ‘John and I made a hobby out of it before our little darlings came along. Now the best I can hope for is some fun with the shower head of a morning.’
This final comment is met with stunned silence – even from John. I shrink down in my seat, mortified that I’ve willingly brought Shep into this situation, knowing full well that Tanya has boundary issues. I’m now thinking this whole dinner-party idea was a very bad one indeed.
* * *
On Sunday morning, I wake up groggy and hungover from too much booze. Our evening with Tanya and John continued to be an equally eye-opening and butt-clenching experience, right through dessert, coffee and liqueurs. Before last night, the closest I’d come to having an after-dinner digestif had been opening a pack of McVitie’s to satisfy my sweet tooth. While I might ordinarily have enjoyed this novel experience, it was difficult to focus on anything other than my excruciating discomfort, as Tanya continued to drop the most unsubtle hints ever at Shep.
