The Debt & the Doormat (23 page)

‘I’m afraid that we’re closing up for the night guys,’ the grey haired bar man says to us.

I look around and notice that we’re the only ones left. 

‘How old are you?’ I blurt out.

‘Poppy!’ Ryan slurs.

‘Sorry, I’m just interested,’ I slur back.

‘I’m sixty-three, but I don't feel a day over twenty-one,’ he says, smiling kindly.

‘Well, you look g-g-great’.

‘Maybe time to take her home, hmm?’ he says to Ryan. 

Why is he talking about me like I’m not here?  Ryan is just as drunk as me, but he nods back, as if I’m some huge liability. 

‘Come on, miss aggressive drunk,’ Ryan says, dragging me off my bar stool.

‘I just want to finish my drink.’ I clutch onto it for dear life.

‘I think you’ve had enough,’ he says, taking it out of my hand and placing it on the bar.

‘Wait!’

‘What?’ he says, stopping in his tracks, seeming alarmed.  Maybe I was a bit loud.

‘I can't walk with these stupid things on.’  I throw off my flip flops and place my bare feet on the warm grass.  ‘Aah, that's better’.

‘You really are a bit of a hippy aren’t you?’ he says, with a wicked grin.

‘Whatever,’ I slur trailing on behind him, not caring that he’s again decided to walk off the main path.  It’s more private this way.   

We walk for another few hundred yards singing Bon Jovi and getting shouted at by people trying to sleep in their tents.  Wimps.   

‘My feet hurt,’ I wail.

‘Don't be such a baby Pops.  We’re nearly there,’ he says playfully.

I hate being called a baby.  It instantly puts my back up.  Unless someone’s saying ‘nobody puts baby in the corner’.  That's
obviously
different.  I’ll show him.  I’ll prove to him that I can walk for miles. 

‘Do you want a lift?’ he asks, humour curving his lips.

‘No!  I’m fine on my own thanks,’ I say defiantly.  ‘I have two feet.’

God – I’m not even making sense.

‘Come here,’ he says, flinging me on his back into a piggy back, before I can protest.  I wrap my hands round his neck and lean my face against his.  It's so warm and soft. 

‘You know, sometimes you’re so moody,’ I say.

‘Ri...ght?’

‘But tonight you were so fun.  I like fun.  I like lollipops too.’  I literally can't stop this shit coming out of my mouth.  It's like my tongue doesn’t belong to me anymore!

‘Yeah, I like lollipops too.  And, I’m not moody, I’m just misunderstood,’ he says, his voice serious.

‘That's something that moody people always say.  You and Grace should get married.  You could have beautiful moody children...and you could get a moody dog...and maybe even a moody parrot.’

He laughs.  ‘You think I’m beautiful, do you?’ he asks, his voice husky.

‘But moody.  Let it be noted that I think you’re moody.’

‘Don't worry, I think I get the hint that I’m moody.  But you’re too nice.’

‘Too nice?’

‘Yep,’ he nods.  ‘It's funny.  You get yourself in loads of trouble from just being too nice.’

‘Well, I’m
sorry
for being too nice,’ I say like a moody child.

‘Well maybe that's why we complement each other.  I’m moody and you’re too nice.  Together we’re probably a normal person.’

‘Yeah, we’d have normal children.  But Grace is very beautiful.  I would love her,’ I slur, wondering why I’m not walking.  That's right, I’m on his back. 

‘Well, then you can marry her.  I’m not interested.’

‘Good.  Beautiful people should not get together.  It's too perfect.’

‘Well I guess there’s no hope for me and you then,’ he chuckles. 

‘Huh?  You think I’m beautiful?’ I slur, surprised.

‘You’re alright I suppose,’ he says, after a pause.

It’s enough for me to start singing.

‘You really love me, you want my babies, you want to marry me and kiss and squeeze me,’ I sing to him.

‘OK,’ he says drily.  ‘We’re back now anyway.’

He puts me down in front of my leopard print tent and I look inside to see Izzy and Grace passed out, still fully clothed. 

‘Well, goodnight,’ he says, punching me on my shoulder.

‘Ouch!’  Night.’

I crawl into the tent, but something stirs in my stomach.  I really don't want the night to end.  I don't want to be away from him.  I crawl out and go up to his tent. 

‘Ryan,’ I whisper through the material.  ‘Ryan, are you awake?’  I unzip the tent and he looks up just as he takes his top off, exposing his beautiful soft skin.

‘Alright trouble.  I thought you went to bed?’ he whispers.

‘Well, I don't want to.  I want to cause more trouble,’ I giggle.  ‘And your wife is snoring too loud.’

‘I’m tired though,’ he says, pushing his hair back with his hands.

‘Me too.  Can I sleep with you?  I mean, you know...just to sleep.’

‘OK, but I’ve only got the one sleeping bag.’

‘That's OK,’ I say already jumping into it.  ‘I can share.’

I snuggle into his pillow and feel him try and squeeze in next to me.  I lay silent and melt when he wraps his arm around me, his hand resting in between my boobs.  His legs go in between my legs.  I breathe deeply as he pulls my hair away from my face and kisses me on the neck.

‘Night Pops.’

‘Mmm,’ is all I can manage before I give up fighting the tiredness and drift off into my dream world. 

When I wake up I search for his hand before I open my eyes.  All I feel is the cold sleeping bag.  I open my eyes and look around the tent for him, but again nothing.  Where the hell is he?  My dream flashes up in my head and I remember vaguely that me and Ryan were lollipops that got married, and Grace was a mars bar that melted in the sun.  How random.    

‘Ryan?’ I call quietly, suddenly feeling vulnerable. 

What time is it anyway?  I glance at my watch and see that it's 9am.  I unzip the tent door and find him sitting on a chair in front of the fire, his forehead wrinkled up in deep thought.

‘You ok?’ I ask quietly as I walk around the silent tents.  It doesn’t look like anyone else in the camp is awake yet. 

‘Yeah,’ he says, looking up and smiling weakly.  ‘Just thinking.’

‘Oh, ok.  Anything...interesting?’ 

I feel so awkward.  Last night all of the walls were down.  Well, almost all of them.  I don't know if we’re being so candid today and it makes me feel tongue-tied.

‘Nah,’ he says, looking at me, his eyes enigmatic.

OK, what the hell do I say to that?  I gaze at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. 

‘I was just thinking that life is complicated,’ he sighs.

‘O...kay.  What brought on this sudden bought of depression?’

‘Nothing.  It’s just...I seem to always make things difficult for myself,’ he says, seeming to be torn by some internal dilemma. 

‘How?’ I ask, removing the sleep from my eyes.

‘I just...I just think me and you are best as friends,’ he blurts out quickly.

‘Oh.’  I’m still too asleep to be as truly upset as I know I will be later.  ‘Yeah, that's fine,’ I shrug, trying not to look bothered and hoping my cheeks aren’t blushing.

‘I just think you’d be better off without me.’  He looks into the fire, his expression blank. 

Did I come on to him last night or something?  I must seriously be giving off majorly desperate vibes for him to have to be clarifying it to me like this. 

‘Anyway, happy birthday.  What do you want for breakfast?’  He smiles, seeming to be pleased to have got that off his chest. 

I’m so mortified.  I shouldn’t have to feel this humiliated on my birthday and it's only 9am.
He Heh

‘There’s a choice?’ I smile.  I look around for this supposed food while I desperately try not to show my disappointment.

‘Yep.  There’s beans or the burger van?’  His dazzling face is friendly, a slight smile on his flawless lips, but his eyes are careful.  Probably scared to lead me on in case I’m still planning our wedding.

‘Shall I wake the others?’ I ask, desperate to get myself out of this situation.

‘Yeah, you better do.  I’d hate to see Grace hungry.  I reckon she’d murder someone,’ he says, with a cheeky grin.

I laugh gratefully, pleased that he’s lightened the mood.  I love it when he laughs with that twinkle in his eye, like we’re both in on some private joke.  But we’re just friends remember.  Yeah, I remember, I think sadly. 

I go into the leopard print tent. 

‘Guys, wake up.  We’re going to get breakfast.’

I hear Grace grunt from the black sleeping bag.  Izzy stretches out, yawning so wide that I can see her tonsils. 

‘Morning Pops.  Happy birthday,’ Izzy claps.  She immediately flinches and touches her temples.  ‘God, I can't believe how much we drank last night.’  

‘Yeah I know.’  I’m only too aware of my own headache.

‘God, if any of my clients could see me now they’d be horrified.’

I laugh because I feel I should, but my hearts not in it.  What Ryan said is starting to sink in.  I’m so pathetic.  I feel just like I’m back at school and the popular boy’s told me I don't stand a chance.  I might as well have my braces back.     

‘So anyway, happy birthday to you,’ she starts singing.  ‘Happy birthday to you.  Happy birthday dear P – o – p – p – y.’

‘Shut the fuck up!’ Grace shouts from underneath her sleeping bag.

‘Happy birthday to you,’ she whispers, ending the song and sticking two fingers up at the sleeping bag.

‘I’m going to wake Jazz’.  I get out before Grace can rear her ugly head.

‘Knock, knock,’ I say outside Jake’s tent.  ‘Jazz – can I come in?’

I
really
don't want to find them having sex.  I slowly unzip the door of the tent, peering in to check the coast is clear.  I’m relieved to see that they’re both asleep.

I crawl in and lay down next to Jazz.  She looks so cosy, even in last night’s smudged eye liner.  So cosy that I’m tempted to just forget breakfast and crash here for a while.  That's exactly what I fancy doing - hiding away from Ryan.  But then I remember the others.

‘Jazz,’ I whisper in her ear.  ‘Wake up.’

She stirs slightly and then slowly opens her eyes like an angel. 

‘Morning babe,’ she croaks, stretching out.

‘How you feeling?’

‘I’m OK actually.’  She clears her throat and grabs a cigarette out of her bag.

‘How was the rest of the concert?’ I ask, knowing that it would have been shit.

‘Yeah it was good,’ she says, unconvinced as she lights it and inhales deeply.  I roll my eyes.  ‘Oh, what am I saying, it was shit and you know it was shit.’

I laugh, but quickly cover my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself as I remember Jake still sleeping.

‘Oh, don't worry about him.  He’d sleep through a hurricane.’

‘Really?’  I examine his face closer.

‘Totally!  I saw a spider one morning and screamed for about ten minutes, and when I ran in to get him he was still asleep!  I had to practically sit on him to wake him up.  It's really weird!  He blames it on living in a house full of noisy men.  He’s apparently learnt to just tune them out.’

‘Weird.  Have you been to his house?’ I enquire, eager to learn how serious this relationship is.

‘Yeah, although, it makes our place look like a palace,’ she snorts.

I grimace.  It must be a bloody squat. 

‘Ok Pops, no need to look
so
horrified.’

I quickly snap my face back to normal, feeling bad. 

‘Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to.  Anyway,’ I lower my voice a whisper again, ‘how bloody old
is
he?’

‘I was waiting for you to ask this.’  She rolls her eyes.  ‘He’s 21, which isn’t actually that much younger than us.’

‘I know, but he looks twelve!’

‘Shut up!’ she giggles.  ‘For now, it's...fun.’

‘And what about Ollie?’

‘What
about
Ollie?’ she asks avoiding my gaze.  ‘Anyway, where the hell did you two sneak off to last night?’

‘What do you mean?’ I ask innocently, trying not to grimace as I think of Ryan and how I must have behaved after the first drink.  Why am I such a drunken lush?  ‘We came back to the tent didn’t we,’ I say vaguely.  Hopefully by the time they got back Grace and Izzy were asleep and would stack up with my story.

‘Yeah,’ she smiles knowingly.  ‘But then you went off, apparently to the toilet, and never came back.’

‘We did come back!’ I retort quickly.  Probably a bit too quickly in hindsight. 

‘Well, eventually!  What time did you make it back?’ she asks sitting up, her eyes wide with interest.

‘Um...it was...about 3am, I think?’

A wide smile spreads across her face. 

‘Well that's a lie straight away.  We went to sleep at 4.30am and there was still no sign of you.’

‘Oh....Ok, it was...a bit later than that then.’

She studies my face for a moment.  ‘You don't know what time you got back, do you?’ she smiles accusingly.  

‘Yes I do!  It was....a bit after 5am...I think.’

‘Ha ha!  I knew it!  You dirty scaly wag!  You have no idea what time you got back.’  She lays back, laughing hard.

‘Oh, whatever.’  I fold my arms over my chest.  ‘Look, do you wanna come for breakfast or not?’

‘Oooh!  Tetchy about your night with Ryan are we?  Why ever could that be?’ she teases.

‘I’m going.  Be ready in five minutes or we’re going without you.’

*
                            *                            *

An hour later, and after trekking the distance to the nearest burger bar and queuing up for what seemed like forever, we all have bacon and sausage rolls with teas, lying on some nearby grass eating them.  It's actually a nice day today, a clear blue sky with blinding sunshine.  I’d appreciate it more if I didn’t have Ringo squashed up against me like an eager little puppy. 

‘So, what did you guys get up to last night?’ Izzy asks smiling towards me and Ryan.

I glance quickly at Ryan, wondering how much he remembers.  Unfortunately for me, I can now remember everything.  All of the little cringe worthy words I said – everything!  No wonder he felt the need to tell me clearly this morning that we were just friends and nothing else.  I behaved like a love sick puppy.  How could I have been that drunk but then still remember it all?  It seems really unfair.

Every time I look at him my mouth goes a bit numb at the memory of being curled up in his arms.  Probably because I know I’ll never be able to do that again.  It's not something friends do often.  Well, unless you’re me and Jazz after a night dancing and a greasy kebab. 

‘Um...we just saw a show and had some drinks,’ I answer as casually as I can.  I just wish my voice wasn’t quavering as much as it is.  I stuff a big bite of my roll in my mouth so that I can't answer any more questions.

‘Really?  What show?’ she asks, seeming genuinely interested.

I point to my mouth and smile.  Ha ha – she can't make me swallow this.

‘It was a...modern art show,’ Ryan adds grinning at me.

‘Yeah, that's right.  And after that we went for some cocktails at a nice bar,’ I add, playing along.

His grin breaks into a laugh and I join in against my better judgement.  I just hope he doesn’t take my un-lady like snorts for another sign that I’m in love with him.  I look back at Izzy and suddenly notice everyone staring at both of us like we’re mad.

‘Sounds like a nice evening,’ Izzy says, her mouth pouting in confusion.

‘Anyway,’ Grace interrupts, placing her untouched food onto the grass beside her.  ‘What time are we leaving?’

‘I thought that maybe we’d catch another band before we go,’ Jake smiles, as eager as ever.

I see Jazz grimace discreetly.

‘Ok, sure.  Whatever you want,’ Jazz smiles un-convincingly.

‘Can I catch a ride with you guys?’ I ask Ryan.  I don't really care anymore about hurting Jake’s feelings.  I just want to get out of here.   

‘Yeah course,’ he smiles. 

I look over to Jazz.  She looks like she wants to kill herself rather than go to another gig. 

‘Ok, I’ll see you later then,’ I say to her.

‘Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.’  She smiles and kisses me on the cheek.

‘Why, what's happening tonight?’ I ask, confused. 

I was looking forward to an early night after the fiasco that was last night. 

She stares wide eyed at Izzy and Grace.  It suddenly dawns on me.  Of course, they’ve planned something for my birthday!  It's obvious.  They’ve gone behind my back and organised a surprise birthday party for me.  I’d actually almost forgotten it was today myself. 

‘Nothing!  Nothing at all.  I meant, you know...I might pop round,’ she says, in her high pitched Oxford voice.  Her face looks unnaturally flustered. 

Well two can play that game. 

‘OK, because, it is my birthday today,’ I say innocently.  ‘You do remember, right?  You haven’t even wished me happy birthday yet.’

‘Your birthday?’ she says, in mock surprise.  ‘Oh, of course!  It's your birthday!  I’d completely forgot!’ 

She really is the worst actress in the world.  They’re definitely planning a party. 

‘Oh.  Well, maybe I’ll see you later then,’ I say, playing my part, smiling on the inside.

‘OK.  I’ll call you or something.’

They really are the worst liars in the world.  I know I said I didn’t want to do anything but it's nice that they’ve gone out of their way to organise something.  I suppose I should be grateful.  And truth be told, I am actually pretty excited.  I need some cheering up.

‘Pops, let me get your number first,’ Ringo says, jumping up.

Damn it.

*                            *                            *

The drive home always seems longer than the drive to get somewhere.  It doesn’t help when you’re crushed between Izzy and Grace’s enormous suitcase.  Happy birthday me.

‘I’m just gonna get a drink.  You guys want anything?’ Ryan asks as we pull into a petrol station.