Sophie's Throughway (5 page)

“Paul my darling,” I sang with as much pathetic gushiness as I could muster. I tried not to visibly cringe as he ran his hand down my back. Whilst I thought he was a prick I had to resist from saying so. Firstly I would lose my job and secondly you never knew if there was chance of a Ferrari in the offing. Having said that, I doubted you would get one without shagging him in the back seat of his. We made small talk and enthused about the venue and Paul kept filling my glass as I tried to ask Simms about the bar and his forthcoming ideas. Suddenly a group of promotion girls from the local radio came over dressed in black leather, with smoky eyes and tousled locks. It was like an audition for Cat Woman. Fortuitously, it took Paul's attention away from me and I was able to slip away unnoticed and join my nearly plastered friend. I found her talking to some guys from the nearby vodka bar. Though I'd joined the conversation late I already ascertained that they'd figured out she was a nurse and were telling her tales of their mate getting his bollocks stuck in his flies and ending up at A&E.

I checked my phone and read the following texts:

I replied to both and took the opportunity to text Karl. He'd not called me back yet.

I clicked on my word game whilst the story of one man and his trapped balls continued.

I noticed he'd played a storming word attached to another and scoring 33 points. Bastard.

The rest of the night was fun and easy and we chatted with lots of different people. For the first time in a long while I laughed and drank and felt some freedom from my fractured life. My feet, however, were starting to throb wildly. NB: do not ever listen to teenagers again on what to wear. Irregular Choice heels should only be worn when going out to sit down. i.e.: Dining.

I beckoned my party to a nearby table that had just been vacated and fell into the seat, kicking off my heels and placing my angry feet on the cool tiled floor. Bliss. It was then that I felt the buzz of my phone in my pocket. I
reached into the tight opening and fished it out. Twelve missed calls from Brendon.

“Shit.” I excused myself and forced my swollen feet back into the shoes from hell. I felt like an ugly sister with a glass slipper as I teetered outside like a newly born deer so I'd be able to hear him. He answered immediately. I barely heard it ring.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

“Err, watch how you speak to me please!” I felt the cheer and easiness of the evening drain away like a plug had been pulled.

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

“I'm out working REMEMBER.” I said sternly.

“But it's 10.33”

“So?”

“You said you'd be back at 10 pm. You're 33 minutes late already and I've been looking for you since then.”

“10…10.30…what does it matter. I said around 10 pm”

“You SAID 10! Can you please come home NOW.”

“FINE!” I ended the call and made a mental note to self: Do not be specific in future. Be vague and remember that what you say to Brendon will always be taken literally.

I left Karen at the party with the vodka barons after explaining my dilemma. She totally understood, she was his Godmother and because of me she'd never had kids.

Getting a cab home was easy as it was midweek and I was home at just after 11pm.

Every light in the house was on and Brendon was
peering out from behind the heavy, tapestry curtains awaiting my arrival.

“
EVENTUALLY,”
his eyes were black and I felt his dark mood permeating the air like poisonous sludge.

“Yes, I'm back now, so leave it there. Where's Bryony?”

“She was in bed watching vampire shit. I've been on my own wanting to go to bed for ages. If I'm tired tomorrow it's your fault.” He glared at me, the underlying threat of misbehaving tomorrow hanging there as a punishment for my lateness.

“Then go to bed. Because I am.” I kicked my shoes off at the bottom of the stairs and he violently kicked them out of his way as he stomped up them. He'd managed to assert his control and now he would hopefully sleep.

“Goodnight Brendon, love you,” I sang as I passed by his door after checking on a sleeping Bryony.

“Night,” he mumbled, grudgingly.

 

Chapter 8

I woke up with a ‘
I'm-never-drinking-wine-or-champagne-again
' headache and if you could take the smell of an old, wet dog and put it in my mouth, I'm sure that's what it would taste like. It was relatively early and still dark outside so I made use of the stillness and went downstairs to get a cup of tea and two paracetamol. I sat quietly and wished I could just have one day a week that was like this. Peace. Solitude.

I spent the next ten minutes mulling over the previous night and wondering how the hell Karen must be feeling when I remembered it was the governors meeting later today. I still hadn't heard from Karl. Damn him. I went back to my bedroom and checked my phone. Nothing except for five emails from Living Social and Group on. It was only 6.45 am but I decided to ring anyway. Karl was one of those annoying, chirpy, morning people.

“Good morning!” he boomed, his phone obviously attached to his car audio as I could hear the rumblings of the motorway behind him.

“Why haven't you responded to my call and text about
this school meeting?” I asked holding the phone an inch away from my ear in fear of perforation.

“Ah, I had every intention of doing so but I have meetings all over the place and not sure if I can change them. I was going to call later when I've seen what I can do.”

“But this is important. You know what Mr. Fothergill's like and I don't want to face a whole bunch of governors on my own. He's going to get kicked out if we don't fight his corner.”

“Look, if I can, I'll be there but I'm not promising. I have to work and can't pander to the school every time Brendon has an outburst. They need to get a grip on controlling it or he needs to learn a hard lesson and face the consequences of his actions.”

“Righto, Daddy dearest,” I checked my attitude quickly. I wanted him there so needed to play nice. “Look, I'd really appreciate it and I understand what you're saying. I could do with your people skills and expertise in argumentation and negotiation.” I went straight to the ego. Always works.

“I'll do my best and I'll call you later,” he rounded up, ready to go but I knew he'd now feel more compelled to turn up.

I got Brendon and Bryony up and fed and managed to stop a huge fight where Bryony had nearly worn her Ready Brek on her face for calling Brendon a douche bag. Thankfully it made a turnabout into brother and sister unite when I went mad- bitch- crazy and started yelling at the pair of them.

“You two are so BLOODY SELFISH! I don't need this crap in the morning. I've got to get to work and I've lots to do and your trivialities and arguing can STOP NOW! I
don't
CARE if you think Bryony's friends are a bunch of
hapless skets
with no brain cells,'” I directed at Brendon. “And
you,
Bryony, shouldn't give a flying banana if he thinks that anyway because you KNOW he's a chauvinistic, arrogant and opinionated swine!” I snatched away the breakfast plates and wondered if I was having a brain haemorrhage. My head was pounding so hard and I wanted hurt someone.

“Are you on your period?” said Brendon.

Bryony burst out laughing. “I know right?”

“GET. IN. THE. CAR.” I glared at them.

On the way to school I gave Brendon a lecture. “Listen, it's the meeting after school. Your Dad might be coming too. Maybe. Can you
please,
for just one day
NOT
break into any computers and actually behave yourself. When we're in the meeting, be polite, do NOT get annoyed and let me or Dad do the talking.” I looked at him rolling his eyes at Bryony, “I'm DEADLY serious. This is not a joke and if you don't start towing the line you'll be expelled.”

“Yes Mommy,” he mocked in a brat voice.

They got out and wandered down the street collecting friends. Brendon grabbing one of his in a bear hug since he was one of the biggest in the year and used his physical strength as a way of control. I drove to work playing Classic FM in order to zen myself out.

I arrived before time and got straight into loading and editing photos. By the time everybody else started to appear I was well into my Coco Lounge article.

“Good night?” asked Johnno as he slapped his Adidas sports bag on the desk.

“Good morning,” I replied not looking up and trying not to break my roll.

“Ha ha. OK…
did
you have a good time last night Soph?”

“Splendid. You were sorely missed.”

The day continued in a super productive manner despite the pain in my temples refusing to take leave. I even rewrote my article three times over because Colin wanted to move things about and have more photos, less text. Then more text. Ugh. Then there wasn't room for the book review so all the layout had to be re arranged. By the time the afternoon came I was desperately in need of a nap.

“Johnno, you know you want to go to Starbucks and get me a caramel latte and a muffin,” I pleaded.

“No. That stuff's bad for you. He reached into his drawer and threw a muesli health bar at me. “Have that instead.”

“Ugh. Damn you sporty types. Have you no soul?”

“I'm heading out in a minute,” said Monica, “I'll bring the carbs back for you.”

“Thank you FRIEND.” I blew her a kiss.

“Hey, how's the arsehole?” asked Johnno.

“Which one?” I asked puzzled, notching them up in my mind.

“The one on the game.”

“Well let me see…” I picked up my phone and clicked on Word.

“Yep. Still an arsehole,” I replied. However I was starting to find The Voice somewhat intriguing.

Like I would give him the satisfaction of thinking he'd annoyed me. I had mostly vowels which didn't help with my desperate need for victory. He was twelve points ahead. Not good. As I was playing around with my letters the little green chat bubble delivered a new message. Well, looky, looky ‘The Voice' was awake and live online.

I played my pathetic vowels for 14 points.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was assuming ‘The Voice' was male. Just because they were rude and belligerent that shouldn't make me assume it was a man.

That actually made me smile.

I closed the game and wondered where The Voice lived if he was only just starting his day.

I noticed my latte and muffin had been put on my desk. I reached for the polystyrene beaker and poured the sweet coffee into my mouth, begging that the caffeine would have some magic cure on my sore head.

My phone beeped with a text from Karen:

Brilliant. I rushed in to Colin's office and told him about the piece of gossip. “Send one of Monica's girls in later to find out. I'd go but my head hurts and I've got to leave now for the
big
school meeting. Wish me luck. “

“I expect nothing less than victory for Brendon and if they don't play nice tell ‘em we'll be writing about their discrimination against children with disabilities.”

“Nice!” I gave him a high five and left for the Hillfields
School. As I approached my car, I tried to ring Karl again as he hadn't got back to me as promised.

“On my way. Be there near half four,” he answered.

I let go of the breath I hadn't realised I was holding.

“Thank God. Ok well put your foot down it starts at 4.30 pm.” I knew he would because he had a bright yellow, Volvo T5 and he couldn't help but pretend he was Ayrton Senna. And Bond of course, James Bond.

 

Chapter 9

As I pulled into the car park I saw Karl's shiny, yellow car and breathed a sigh of relief. I parked my filthy, pale blue, mini cooper next to it and wished I'd asked Paul Hymes for a loan of a Ferrari.