Authors: Portia MacIntosh
I
feel bad for not telling Emily about Charles first of all but everything
happened so quickly. I know I’ve been neglecting her a bit recently but now
things are calming down I can make it up to her.
I
fluff up the big pillows behind my head and slouch down further. I am so
comfortable here, I never want to move again. I’ll call Charles and tell him
about my weekend and then I’ll get in bed, that way I can catch up on my sleep
and be up nice and early tomorrow. What a great plan.
Well,
what a terrible plan that turned out to be.
I
must have fallen asleep minutes after getting off the phone with Em. Not only
did I neglect to call Charles, but I must have dropped my phone in my sleep
because there’s a new little chip on the side. Just brilliant.
Despite
my very early night, I have managed to sleep in. Yes, I’m going to be late, but
they expect it of me these days. That said, I don’t want to push my luck so I
quickly grab whatever clothes are scattered across my bedroom floor and hop
into them, pile on some make-up and untangle the plaits I lazily pulled my wet
hair into last night.
I’m
halfway to work and rummaging around in my bag for more lip-gloss when I
realise that I have left my mobile at home. I hate being without my phone –
it’s usually a permanent extension of my hand and I genuinely feel like I am
missing a limb without it. It’s too late to go back for it now, though.
Finally
inside the office, everyone is hard at work - even Vicky - and it takes a few
seconds before anyone notices I have walked in.
‘Good
morning, darlings. I know, I’m late, I’m sorry. Vicky, I’ll get you some money,
go to Starbuck and get whatever you guys want.’
‘Fine.’
She snatches the money from my hand and I take a deep breath to stop myself
from saying something. A nice girl deep down, my arse.
As
soon as her butt is out of the door I walk into my office and plonk myself down
at my desk. Emily follows me inside.
‘Charles
has called for you.’
‘Yeah?
I left my mobile at home. I forgot to call him last night, he’s probably
wondering what’s happened to me.’
‘He’s
called a few times actually, he sounds a bit pissed off.’
‘Really?’
That surprises me. I know we haven’t spoken for forty-eight hours but I didn’t
think he’d be the needy type. ‘I guess I’d better call him back now then.
Cheers, doll.’
‘I’ll
leave you to it. If Vicky gets back with your coffee I’ll keep it out here
until you’re done,’ Emily says, closing the door behind her – she really must
think something is wrong. I search my desk for the little pink post-it with
Charles’ number on and punch in into the phone on my desk.
‘Charles
Pace,’ he answers in his usual serious tone.
‘Hello
boyfriend, how are you?’
‘Fine,
and you?’
‘I’m
great, thanks. I’ve had one hell of a weekend -’
‘Oh,
I know you have,’ he interrupts me.
‘What
do you mean?’
‘I
can’t believe you’ve done this to me, and so soon after agreeing to be my girlfriend.
It’s disgusting.’
‘Charles,
what are you talking about?’ I ask, entirely confused now.
‘Are
you seriously pretending you have no idea what I’m talking about?’
‘I
seriously have no idea what you are talking about,’ I tell him honestly. Why is
he shouting at me?
‘Then
I suggest you have a look on Facebook and call me back.’ He slams the phone
down.
What
the hell is his problem? I’m a little taken aback by his aggressive tone, but I
do as he says and start up my computer. I haven’t been on Facebook for a few
days what with everything that has gone on – what could be so bad? I don’t
immediately see anything that might upset him, but then I click on my
notifications. I have been tagged in an album called “TFTR TOUR”. My heart
sinks. Carla and her bloody camera! I get the feeling that big blank gap from
Saturday night is about to be filled in. Taking a deep breath, I click on the
first photo and flick through. There are a few backstage ones from before the
gig and an awful lot of me at the gig looking a bit drunk, and, despite a few
unflattering angles, I don’t see anything that would immediately put Charles
off. I’m beginning to wonder what the hell his problem is, but as I carry on
clicking I finally learn how the night progressed. There are a few of me
playing the drinking game - I remember that - and then suddenly, there is it, the
moment I took off my skirt, or rather, the moment Luke pulled it off for me. I
carry on flicking through the photos and I feel sick. There’s one of me wearing
nothing but my underwear and my borrowed hoodie, champagne bottle in one hand
and giving the camera the finger with the other. Another of me pouring
champagne into Luke’s mouth. Another of me taking off Luke’s wet t-shirt.
Another of me sitting on his knee. I’m sure I told Carla that I had a
boyfriend, why would she upload these? I know that I’m not really doing
anything wrong, but I can see how they might look from Charles’ point of view.
I have to call him and explain so I relocate the pink post-it and dial his
number.
‘Charles
Pace.’
‘Charles,
the photos are not what they look like.’
‘What
else could they be, Nicole? You tell me.’
‘You
work in music PR, you must have been on a tour or to a wrap party?’
‘Never.
You may be surprised to hear this, but proper jobs don’t involve getting drunk
with bands.’
‘There
were at least thirty people in that room, you can tell from the other photos.’
‘Oh,
very classy,’ he snaps.
‘Please
let me finish.’
He
doesn’t say anything and I take this as my cue to carry on.
‘We
were just having a laugh, nothing happened. My clothes were off because Eddie
spilt champagne on me. I’ll admit I was very drunk, but we were celebrating.’ I
sigh. I don’t know what I can say to make him believe me. ‘This is just what
happens. I wouldn’t cheat on you.’
‘You
think getting drunk, taking off your clothes and sitting on some other guy’s
knee is just what happens?’
On
tour it is.
‘What
kind of world do you live in? Seriously. Normal girls don’t behave like
that
,
you look like a little tart on those photos, all over all those boys.’
‘Woah!
Hang on a sec,’ I say, suddenly relocating the confidence to stand up for
myself. ‘Don’t call me a tart, those guys are my friends and I can sit on them
if I like. I will admit that, in those photos, we do look a bit close, but nothing
happened. Are there any photos of me cheating on you? No. Because I didn’t. So
you can believe me, or-’
‘Nicole,
calm down. I believe you. But you have to stop acting like this with other
guys. It’s just not acceptable.’
And
just like that, he’s calm again. I don’t want to agree with him because I don’t
believe that I did anything wrong but the last thing I want is to fall out with
him.
‘You
didn’t even tell me you were in London. Why didn’t you tell me that?’
‘It
was really last minute, and I knew you had a work thing. I was going to call
you last night, but then I fell asleep.’
‘I
need to know that I can trust you.’
‘You
can trust me.’
‘Promise
me that I can trust you?’
‘I
promise, Charles.’
‘I
like you a lot Nicole, I’d hate for a bit of silly behaviour to get in the way
of what could be something special. I’ve got work to do, but I’ll call you
tonight, ok?’
‘Sure.
I’m sorry, Charles. Speak soon.’
He
puts the phone down.
Bloody
hell, I wasn’t expecting this today. I have another flick through the photos. I
look so happy in them, the happiest I have looked in a long time. I can see why
Charles is upset and I do feel a bit bad now. I guess I would have reacted in
the same way if it had been the other way round. I flick back to the photo of
me sitting on Luke’s knee and notice that there is a comment from him and one
from Carla. Luke’s says “I love this one” and Carla’s says “Me too! You guys
make a great couple” – shit, I really hope Charles didn’t notice that.
Maybe
I do need to sort out my behaviour. I may not remember what it’s like to have a
boyfriend, but Charles is probably in the right. I make enough jokes about my
world vs. the “real world”, but they have never seemed more different. I’m
going to have to do everything I can to fit back into the “real world” or I’m
going to lose Charles. No more touring and no more after-parties, not until I
know how to behave at them without getting overly familiar with the bands. I’ve
been hanging out with these people for the whole of my adult life so I suppose
their behaviour was bound to rub off on me eventually. I guess I’m going to
have to make a big decision, I can carry on having fun and messing around with my
silly band boys or I can change my life entirely and try and be more like the
kind of girl Charles expects me to be. Decisions, decisions.
‘But
they don’t have a drummer, and yet I can hear drums in their music,’ Vicky
protests. Her voice is way louder than she realises because she’s wearing
headphones.
I’m
having a bit of trouble reviewing an album so I’ve got everyone in the office
having a listen to see what they think of it.
‘Yes,
there are drums, but they have a session player record them. It doesn’t matter.
What do you think of -’
‘But
it doesn’t make any sense,’ Vicky cuts me off mid-sentence. ‘How can they have
drums in their music, but not play them?’
‘Who’s
your favourite musician?’ I run my hands through my hair and sigh. We’ve been
having this conversation for way too long already. At first Emily was acting as
the middle-woman but even she has given up now. And Jake, well he’s just sat
behind his computer (on his fence) trying not to laugh.
‘I
like Pink.’ She folds her arms and smiles smugly.
‘Of
course you do, and do you hear drums in Pink’s music?’
‘Yes.’
‘Right,
and is Pink a drummer?’
‘No.
She has someone play them for her.’
‘Exactly.’
I nod my head as she processes the thought, any minute now she’s going to crack
on to what I’m saying.
‘Yeah,
but she’s just a singer. This band play instruments, so why don’t they have a
member play the drums?’
Jake
cracks up, unable to control his laughter a second longer. ‘Give it up Nic,
it’s impossible.’
Vicky
shoots Jake a dirty look and then turns back to me, waiting for an explanation.
She thinks she’s got me beat and I can’t help but laugh too because I don’t
have an answer for her.
‘This
isn’t helping at all.’
‘Play
it out loud, maybe if we all listen together...’ Emily suggests, ever the
diplomat.
I
watch the three of them for a moment. Emily and Vicky messing with the CD
player, Jake sat back watching them and chuckling to himself. It’s good to have
things back to normal. It’s only been a few days since the drama with Charles
and the Facebook photos but we’ve talked a lot and I’ve made him some fairly
big promises. I think we’re going to be ok, and I’m so pleased because I like
him so much. I spent all these years without a boyfriend thinking that I was
happier with casual encounters but the idea of having someone always there for
me and always on my side is one that I could really get used to.
We’re
all rather enjoying the quiet days at work, the ones we always have just after
we put an issue online. Everyone is always in a much better mood and even Vicky
has been known to smile and say nice things on these quiet days.
As
the album plays - for the fifth time - I ignore the music and chat with the
gang.
‘I
am
so
looking forward to tonight!’ I say. ‘A night out that doesn’t
involve bands – I don’t remember the last time that happened. It’s been a
bloody long time though.’
‘About
that,’ Vicky says, spinning around on her desk chair so that she is facing me.
‘I’m thinking maybe we should give it a miss. Do something else.’
‘Do
something else!’ I echo. ‘Like what? I’ve been looking forward to this for
ages!’
Tonight
is Halloween and to celebrate we are going to a foam party. I have my outfit
ready and waiting for me at home. Rather originally, I have opted for a whorey devil
costume which, if I am being honest, is just my own red clothes with a clip on
tail and horns. I love Halloween and I love foam parties so I’m not too
impressed with Vicky’s sudden change of heart. If she doesn’t like it she can
always stay at home.
‘The
foam really irritates my skin!’ she protests, appalled that I had dared to
suggest she go near foam.
‘But
we planned this ages ago, and you knew about the foam – it’s a foam party!’