The Debt & the Doormat (15 page)

A strange sense of recognition goes through me when I look at the back of a man’s head.  It looks so familiar.  Could I actually recognise someone from the back of their head?  But a niggling feeling in my stomach tells me I do.  The ears, his neck, they look so familiar. 

Oh my God. 

I know where I know that neck from.  Images of me kissing it flash though my head.  It’s him.  Stuart.  My ex-boyfriend Stuart.  Just thinking his name gives me a dart to the heart. 

Oh my God.  I quickly look away into the opposite direction and grab a cocktail menu from the bar, hiding my face behind it, my breathing suddenly erratic.  Please let this be a dream.  Please don’t let him be here.  I’m hot, suddenly very hot.  I can feel every sweat gland in my body waking up and going into over-drive. 

I need to get out of here.  I clench my fingers tightly round the plastic cocktail menu, feeling bubbles of panic rising inside me.  I don't want to see him.  I just want to run away like a child and block him from my mind forever.  Where are my nearest exits?  Could I make a run for it and just ditch Ryan? 

‘Poppy?’ his familiar voice calls.

My stomach jumps and begins convulsing.  His voice.  His beautiful voice.  Memories of our relationship flash through my head.  Memories I’ve locked away for a long time.  Us sitting on the sofa laughing over some film.  Him making me pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.  Us talking about baby names. 

My heart starts beating faster and faster.  So fast it feels like it's going to jump out and hit the barman in the face.  Just ignore it.  Don’t look up.  Just pretend you haven’t heard it and you’re someone else.

‘Poppy?’  A hand is on my cocktail menu and it's pushed down to expose me.  ‘It
is
you.’

I carry on looking down, thudding fear growing inside me.  I have to look up at him.  He knows it's me.  There’s no escaping this.  I slowly look up at him.  I look into his deep blue eyes and feel a sharp stab in my chest.  Those eyes that I woke up to every morning.  My stomach drops as it does when you’re on a rollercoaster.  Memories of the day he left come flooding back, suffocating me.

You’re too boring.  I’ve started to resent you.

The scars, which I thought were healed, now feel like they’ve been ripped open with a razor blade.  We were so close to our happy ending. 
So
close.  More memories come flooding into my head, whizzing round like a blender.  Us on Brighton pier in the rain, eating soggy chips.  Us dressed up as Fred and Wilma from The Flintstones for a fancy dress party.  Him touching my belly and saying ‘I’m gonna put a baby in there someday’.  I start gasping for breath, like I’m drowning.  I gave him everything; my heart and soul and he decided to stamp on it.

I open my mouth to speak, but it's so dry I can barely get any words out.  Stuart looks at me strangely, clearly wondering if I’ve lost my mind.  I cough, trying to release the lump in my throat.

‘Oh, hi!  What a coincidence!’ I squeak, my voice unnaturally high pitched. 

The letter.  Dear God, the letter.

‘How’ve you been?’  He smiles; that same pearly smile which used to make me go weak at the knees.  ‘Oh, this is my girlfriend, Claudine.’ 

The same Claudine that I’d heard he’d started dating two weeks after he left.  It's funny because when he said ‘I want to be single, I want to be free’ I didn’t see him settling down with someone else two weeks later.  I suppose she gave him things I couldn’t give him.  Like she took it up the arse.  What a whore.     

Her hair is dark red, almost the colour of purple and is curled, heavily hair sprayed to stay in place, making it look like straw.  Her face is thin, almost gaunt, but she has massive collagen filled lips that are coated with so much red lip gloss I’m sure it’ll drip onto the floor any minute.  Her fake eyelashes frame her tiny blue eyes, making it look like butterflies have landed on them.

‘Hi!  Nice to meet you!’  God, I really can’t stop squealing.  What is wrong with me?

I’ll always love you in some way.  But right now you need to let me go.

His last words read through my head.  I wince my eyes trying to block them out, the room going blurry.  The worst possible words a female can hear from her boyfriend.  I gave him the space so that he could breathe, sure that if I kept my distance for a few weeks he’d realise he’d made a massive mistake and come running back to me.  But he never did.   

In hindsight, I do wish I hadn’t cried, begged and rang him every night for two weeks drunk and demanding to know why he didn’t love me. 

‘Poppy!’ Ryan’s silky voice calls from behind me.

I turn around, glad for the distraction, feeling sick from all of the raw emotion in my head.  I look around desperate to see his dreamy face but I can’t see him.  Did I imagine it? 

I see someone weaving through the crowds, but it’s not Ryan.  He’s quite dishy actually, but where is Ryan?   

Oh.  My.  God. 

That is Ryan.  He’s waving and smiling, apologising to people as he squeezes past them.  Except he’s in a smart black suit with a pale green shirt and tie!  He looks so different.  So...well, sexy.  Sexy isn’t even the word.  How can someone manage to look even more devastatingly handsome just by throwing on a suit?

Every woman in the restaurant is turning to look at him and even I feel myself swooning, forgetting for an instant that Stuart is even here.

He kisses me on the cheek.  ‘Hey, sorry I’m late. 

‘H...Hi,’ I stammer.  I actually feel weak at the knees.

‘So, who’re your friends?’ he asks turning to Stuart and Claudine.  He wrinkles his forehead in confusion from the clearly noticeable atmosphere.

Stuart leans in, puffing his chest out.  He extends his tanned hand to him.

‘I’m Stuart.  I’m Poppy’s ex-boyfriend.’

God he’s a smarmy creep.  But I knew that when we were together, and I still loved him.  He must have got my letter by now.  How mortifying. 

‘Hi,’ Ryan smiles.  He turns to look at me as if he’s trying to read my expression.  He turns back to face Stuart and extends his arm out to shake it.

‘I’m Ryan.  I’m Poppy’s
current
boyfriend.’

What?  My mouth practically drops onto the floor.  As does Stuart’s. 

Ryan turns and winks at me before wrapping his arm tightly round my waist.  His warm hands send tingles up my spine.  I try not to look as shocked as I feel and play along, but it's hard for me to imagine having a boyfriend this stunning.  Surely Stuart won't believe anything so ridiculous.   

Both couples stare at each other, awkward silence filling the air. 

‘So,’ I say turning to Ryan, having remembered his interview.  ‘How did it go?’

His face lights up into a wide smile. 

‘I got it,’ he says coolly.

‘Oh my God!’ I exclaim, throwing my arms around him.  ‘Congratulations!’

He squeezes me tightly and I’m sure it’s for Stuart’s benefit.  God, he smells incredible too. 

‘Excuse me, but your table’s are ready,’ the hostess says.  She signals to both couples, but gestures in separate directions. 

Thank God.  My body starts to release itself.  It's over. 

‘That is unless you’d like to eat together?’ she offers.

I open my mouth to thank her, but tell her there is no way that is happening but Stuart jumps in before me. 

‘Yes,’ Stuart says.  ‘Why don’t you join us?’  He looks at me and Ryan.  He seems very intrigued by my new relationship.

‘Oh, I’m not sure-‘

‘We’d love to,’ Ryan interjects.  He takes my hand and leads me towards their table.  I try to pull back in protest, but he ignores me, striding forward. 

What is he doing?  Why is he making me live out this misery?  I try to catch his eye to show my annoyance but he seems to be deliberately ignoring me.

When we’re seated Stuart starts with all of the questions.

‘So, how did you guys meet?’

‘It was through Jazz actually,’ I say, taking the first easy lie as I munch on a breadstick.  I avoid his gaze, unable to look him in the eye.  Every time I look at him I feel so stupid.  Like a stupid child. 

‘Oh, good old Jasmine!  How is she?  Still causing trouble?’ he grins.

I hate how he talks about her.  He always thought she was a no good tart.

‘She’s great actually.  Just got an amazing new job and is seeing a really nice guy.’  As long as I don’t elaborate then I’m not actually lying.  Don't elaborate and don't look at him.

‘Shall we order champagne?’ Stuart says, looking around for a waiter.  ‘Yes, excuse me, can we have two bottles of champagne please.’

He’s so pompous.  I can't believe I ever loved this man.  I think I’m going to need the alcohol.

It's only taken me a year, but I can finally sit back and see him crystal clear.  See him for the dickhead he always was.  I can't believe that for months I tortured myself, worried that I hadn’t given my all.  That I hadn’t tried my best.  The truth was that I’d given him everything I had and it wasn’t my fault.  We weren’t meant for each other.  But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

‘So, how serious are you guys?’ Stuart asks.  He stares at Ryan who has pulled his chair up close to me.  His arm is round my waist again.   

Ryan begins to finger a pattern into the side of my stomach, making my mouth go numb in response.  Try to play it cool.  He smiles affectionately at me. 

‘Well, we live together so I’d say pretty serious.’

I smile back, feeling myself blush.  I know this is only a lie, but he’s so believable I find myself going along with it happily.  His jaw line is so strong.  I’m so tempted to reach out and touch it.

‘Starters?’ the waiter asks all of a sudden.

‘I’ll have the Calamari and Claudine will have some olives,’ Stuart says.

I used to hate how he’d order for me.  We once had the biggest argument at his Mum’s retirement dinner because of it.  Again, in hindsight I wish I wouldn’t have been so drunk.  And I wish I hadn’t fallen over, taking a dinner cloth and his Grandmother down with me, but hey ho, you can't plan these things can you?  And I hear she's got a perfectly good hip now, since the operation. 

Ryan chuckles and looks sympathetically at Claudine. 

‘I didn’t realise she couldn’t talk for herself.’

Stuart glares back, his face like thunder.

‘I’ll have the Bruschetta.  And Poppy, what would you like?’ Ryan asks, turning and winking at me.

‘I’ll have the garlic bread please.’

‘Oh, bless you Pops!’ Stuart smirks.  ‘Always going with the safe boring option as usual.’ 

I feel so exposed, like I’m still going out with him.  He always had the ability to make me feel stupid.  Why doesn’t he talk to his own girlfriend?  She’s just sitting there knocking back the champagne with a sour expression on her face.  What an airhead.  I down my own glass, dribbling some down my chin.  Very attractive. 

‘Actually I love how Poppy’s never afraid to be honest and ask for what she wants,’ Ryan says, bringing his face closer to mine, smirking cheekily.  ‘Even in bed.’

Oh my God – did he just actually say that?  I choke slightly on my drink. 

Stuart stares at Ryan dumbfounded. 

‘Well, it seems you really have changed Poppy.’

I just nod in response and fill another glass with champagne, downing it immediately.  If I’d have told Stuart what I wanted in bed I’d have mentioned how it freaked me out when he’d shout out ‘Attack!  Attack!  Aliens have landed’ every time he’d come. 

‘So Brian, what do you do?’ Stuart asks leaning back into his chair, clutching his champagne as if he owns the restaurant.

‘It's Ryan,’ I correct him, through gritted teeth.  Fury starts building in my body.  He knows his name is Ryan.  Who does he think he is? 

Luckily Ryan just looks back at him, amused.

‘Oh, of course!  Sorry,’ Stuart says insincerely.  ‘Are you an actor?  Or a model?’

A model?  Is he trying to insinuate that Ryan is some dumb pretty boy?

‘No,’ Ryan laughs.  ‘I’m actually a lawyer.’

Stuart stares back, flummoxed, his mouth actually hanging open.  Well that shut him up.

‘What about you Stuart?’ Ryan asks him, smiling angelically. 

‘I’m in marketing.  Just made Marketing Director.’

‘Oh congratulations,’ Ryan says insincerely.

I pour myself another glass of champagne, but spill most of it on the table cloth. 

‘Whoops.’

‘So...what do you think of Poppy’s accident prone behaviour then?  Does it get on your nerves?’ Stuart laughs as he sips his champagne.

What a bastard.  I feel my temper flare as I glare back at him, my lip already curling up in anger.

‘Actually, I find it really endearing,’ Ryan answers.  He cups my face with his hands and plants a quick kiss on my lips.  Wow – he’s so believable.  His lips are so warm.  It takes all my strength just to breathe. 

He turns back to look at Stuart and for a second their eyes lock.  I wonder if they’ll offer each other an arm wrestle.  The atmosphere is so tense you could cut it with a knife.  I take a large gulp of champagne.  Gradually the alcohol seems to be dulling my nerves, the adrenalin pounding round my body starting to slow.  My legs have actually stopped shaking.