The Debt & the Doormat (36 page)

‘Is that why he wouldn’t sleep with me?’ she asks, her eyes darting from side to side as if she’s doing a long multiplication in her head. 

‘Yes, that's why!  Very confused, as I said.  He keeps forcing me to watch Singing in the Rain.  One of his favourite films apparently.’

‘Oh my God.  That's what you were watching the other day!’ she says, her eyes still not meeting mine.  ‘He really is gay.  I can’t believe I haven’t seen it until now.’  She stares at me completely dazed.

‘Yeah.  I’m really sorry to break it to you like this.  Please don’t tell anyone.’

‘No, of course.  But thank you.’  She smiles gratefully and backs out of the room, still clearly in shock, banging the door shut.

As soon as it slams shut I cradle my head in my hands.  What the hell have I done?  What is wrong with me?  I walk into my room and look into the mirror.  A scared vulnerable little girl in a posh bikini stares back at me.  Since when did I turn into such a compulsive liar?  My mum raised me better than this.  Well, my Grandma did.  She used to say ‘Never tell a lie.  You’ll never escape from a lie without being made to cry.’  I hope just for once Grandma would be wrong about these few recent ones.   

I wander back into the garden wondering how I came to be such a loser.

‘I still need to tell you what a dickhead your brother was,’ Jazz says, rolling back over to face me.

‘Oh yeah, I completely forgot.  What happened?’

I’m glad for the distraction.

‘Well, he asked me to Leicester didn’t he and I go all the way there with him and he ends up going off and shagging some random girl in the club.’

Typical Oliver.

‘And?  You guys aren’t dating or anything are you?’

‘Well...no, but...’

‘But what?’

Izzy and Jazz exchange glances and I’m aware I’m missing something.

‘What?’ I demand, sighing heavily.  Why do I always feel like a parent?

‘Well...we’ve kind of been sleeping together,’ Jazz announces, avoiding my gaze.

‘WHAT?’ I exclaim, spitting on her in shock.

‘See!  This is why we decided to keep it a secret!  Because you always make a big deal out of things!’

‘Oh really,’ I mock.  ‘What would I have said?  That someone always gets hurt?  That's just happened!’

‘No it hasn’t!  I’m not in love with him or anything.  I just...well, I didn’t know it bothered me until I saw him with someone else,’ she says, a little sadly.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be dating Jake anyway?’

‘We’re not exclusive!’ she shouts rolling her eyes.

‘Jazz!  How many times!?  This exclusive excuse is totally American.  We’re British and once you sleep with a guy more than once it's just an unwritten rule that you’re kind of going out and won't sleep with anyone else.’

‘Sorry Jazz, but I agree with Poppy,’ Izzy says, looking slightly afraid of Jazz’s reaction.

‘But he hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend!’ Jazz protests.

‘Well then it's fine,’ Grace says, stretching out like a cat.  ‘I’m with Jazz.  If it's not exclusive she can sleep with whoever she likes.’

Tramp.

‘Anyway,’ Jazz says, demanding our attention back to the problem.  ‘I’m furious with him.  He made me go all the way to Leicester just so I could watch him go off and fuck some slag.’

‘This is what I was worried would happen!  You two will hate each other and won't be able to be around each other anymore and I’ll be like a child whose parents are divorced and have shared custody.’

‘Don't be silly Pops.  It’ll be fine,’ she smiles reassuringly. 

‘Promise me?’

‘Of course,’ she smiles, before I notice her grimace at Grace when she thinks I’m not looking.  ‘So anyway, how was your day at work?’

I give her a run-down of the nightmare with the visa, but manage to keep out the terror alert I caused.

‘What a nightmare,’ she sympathises.

‘Yeah.  Oh and then I helped Neville, this guy from work, out.  Some bitches were being mean to him so I ended up sort of lying and telling them I’m sleeping with him.’

‘That is so cruel! 
Why
?’ she says, outraged.

‘I know,’ I nod.

‘Why would a parent name their child
Neville
?’  She shakes her head, still seemingly horrified and doesn’t seem to notice the look I give her. 

‘Anyway...now I’m meeting him tomorrow for a bit of a makeover.’

‘Let me come!’ Jazz says, sitting up and clapping her hands together.  ‘I love a makeover!’

I think about quiet little Neville getting bossed around by Jazz and decide I’d probably scare the crap out of him.

‘He says he just wants to go by himself,’ I lie.

‘That's a shame,’ Jazz pouts.

Yeah, real shame, not. 

God, it's just too damn hot!  I’m practically cooked like a chicken. 

‘I’m going to cool down,’ I announce, springing to my feet and rushing to get inside.

‘Wimp!’ Jazz calls after me.

I ignore her and open the fridge.  Oh, it's so nice and cool in here.  Ah!  I pick up a bottle of water and then a packet of cheese.  I put one to my head and the other on my lower back.  Aah!  Finally cool.

‘You alright there?’

I spin around in shock from Ryan’s voice, dropping the cheese and then the bottled water on my foot.

‘Shit.’

Why do I always have to act like such a dick around him?  I bend down to pick them up, desperately trying to ignore his smirk as he watches me.

‘Don't help or anything,’ I snap.

‘Ooh, moody are we?’ he teases.

‘I’m just so bloody hot,’ I moan like a bratty child. 

‘Yeah, I know.  It's unbearable,’ he says, as he starts unloading some shopping into the fridge.

‘Well...I’m going back out there.’  Why do I feel the need to tell him that?

‘Ryan’s back,’ I say to the others as I sit back on my towel.

Grace perks up and starts reapplying her lipstick.

‘I hope he got more ice,’ Izzy says, draining most of her glass.

He appears at the back door, lifting the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe some sweat from his forehead.  His stomach is so brown and toned that I can't help but stare, mesmerised by him.  

‘Margarita party is it ladies?’

‘Woo!’ they all sing, raising their glasses.

I’m guessing this is a regular occurrence. 

‘Apparently it's supposed to be this hot for the next week,’ he says, seeming horrified by the thought of it.

I watch him from the corner of my eye as he discreetly glances at Jazz’s boobs, then Izzy’s, then Grace’s.  What a pig.  Wait a minute.  He just checked out mine!  My boobs are worthy of being checked out!

He catches me watching him and quickly looks away.  He lifts his t-shirt over his head, fully exposing his abs and his low slung jeans.  Wow.  They’re too low slung really.  You can almost see...well, you can almost see.  He picks up the hose and turns it on over his head soaking his brown curls.  Is it me or did he just turn into slow motion?  He turns around and his back muscles flex as he moves the hose around.

He looks up, this time catching me being a pervert and I quickly avert my gaze.  Damn.  Why did he have to catch me?  He smiles to himself and squirts the hose briefly over all of us.

‘Ryan!’ Jazz shouts.  ‘I just covered myself with cream!’

‘Sorry,’ he laughs, jumping down onto the end of my towel and shaking himself like a wet dog.

‘Thanks,’ I say drily, secretly loving the feel of his droplets.

‘The weirdest thing just happened,’ he announces.  

‘Really?’ I say, trying to sound relaxed and uninterested.

‘Yeah, what Ry Ry?’ Grace purrs.

‘I just bumped into Tabitha and she broke up with me.  She just said that she couldn’t go out with me.  I’m not her type anymore apparently.  What the hell is that all about?’

‘How bizarre!’ I shriek, far too suspiciously. 

‘You need some cream on,’ Grace says, crawling suggestively over to him, her boobs spilling out.  ‘Poor baby.’

She goes behind him and starts spreading cream over his back, making sure to press her boobs up against him at any opportunity. 

‘I’m really not going to be out here long enough anyway,’ he tries to protest.

She ignores him and keeps touching him even when there’s no cream left.  She’s practically dry humping him.  I feel myself cringing for her. 

‘Oh, Ryan!’ Jazz says, sitting up.  ‘I forgot!  I had a dream about you last night.’

‘Oh really?’ he enquires.  ‘Doing anything interesting was I?’

‘Yeah, it was a sex dream actually,’ she says, throwing her head back cackling. 

‘Why....why....why would you dream that?’ I ask, sounding slightly more desperate for the information than intended. 

‘More importantly, was I any good?’ Ryan asks raising his eyebrows mischievously.

‘You were pretty damn good,’ Jazz says, fanning herself.  ‘Woke up sweating and stuff, really weird.’

‘Interesting,’ he smiles.  ‘Because in my dreams I’m surprisingly inadequate.’

‘Well, let’s just say last night you definitely knew your way around, if you know what I mean,’ she says, cackling some more.

‘I love it when we share,’ I say under my breath.  ‘I think I’m going to go in.’

No point torturing myself.  Between Jazz’s dreams and Grace’s groping I’m about to explode with jealousy. 

‘No Pops!  We’re going to get a take away later,’ Izzy says, looking surprisingly hurt.

‘It's too hot to eat.  I think I’m just gonna shower and go to bed.’

No point staying here and making myself miserable.

When I wake up the next morning I see it on the kitchen table.  The picture of Ryan with his black eye and the dramatic headline shouting out at me from the front page.

LOCAL HERO SAVES OLD LADY GETTING MUGGED

Oh crap.  I grab it, reading it quickly. 

Ryan Davis, 32, from Shepherds Bush, bravely saved an old lady from getting mugged on Wednesday 19
th
.  Ryan had been enjoying the sunshine, while on his way to a meeting, when he noticed an elderly lady getting harassed by some teenage thugs.  He bravely decided to interject and although he suffered a black eye, he managed to save the elderly lady from any harm and give her handbag back to her.  The lady is thought to have gone home flustered.  Ryan says ‘Anyone would have done the same thing.  It's just instinct’. 

If you saw this incident or know the thugs, thought to be between 15 to 28, of medium build with black hooded cardigans, please contact crime stoppers.

Oh dear.  When I put it down I notice a post-it stuck to it that I hadn’t seen before with Ryan’s handwriting.

This is your fault!

So I think we’re safe to say that he’s slightly pissed off with me.  Then I notice another little story with the headline ‘Crime Duo Targeting Couples’.  I scan over it, praying that it's not about us.

‘Mr and Mrs Clennel were horrified to find them trying to steal their vase, a wedding present given to them by Mrs Cle
nnel’s deceased mother.  ‘They’re just animals!’ she says of the incident.  ‘Anyone that can do that to someone, it's just horrific!’  The police were called to the incident but they were let go with a warning.’ 

Let go with a warning?  Tried to steal the vase?  There’s nothing in there about it being an accident!  About my hands being glued to it.  What a bunch of lying bastards.

‘The first woman is described as tall, thin with blonde curly hair and small grey eyes.  She is thought to be impersonating a rich child.  The second woman is described as quite short, chubby with black hair, green eyes and freckles’

Chubby?  Fucking
chubby
?  When have I ever been described as chubby?  So I may not be as thin as Jazz, but I mean who the hell is?  She makes Kate Moss look like a fat bitch.  I mean,
chubby?  Really?   

I try to push it to the back of my mind as I walk hurriedly along Oxford Street during my lunch hour.  Neville’s waiting for me outside Topshop as agreed, dressed in a dark green pinstriped suit and tartan shirt.

‘Hi Poppy,’ he says awkwardly.

‘Hey Neville.  Right, no time to waste.  I hope you’ve got your credit card.’

I link arms with him and drag him into Topman, picking up clothes as we go through.

‘Go to the changing rooms and strip naked.  I’ll be over in a minute.’

‘Oh.  OK,’ he says, seeming unsure, shuffling from one foot to another.

‘Don't worry Neville.  I’m not going to steal your clothes.  I’ll be there in a minute.’

By the time I get to the changing rooms I’ve got two baskets full of clothes.  I knock gently on the door and he peers around, his face bright red with embarrassment.

‘Can I come in?’

‘Really?’ he asks, going redder. 

‘I promise I won't look.  It’ll just be easier.’

‘Oh...OK.’

He pushes the door back to reveal a pale white body in grey stripy boxer shorts.  Who’d have known it, but Neville actually has quite a nice body.  Yes, it's pale but it's not weird and skinny.  And from the bulge in the boxers I’d say I wasn’t lying too much about how he’s hung.

‘So did anyone ask you about us yesterday?’ I ask as I throw clothes on over his head.

‘Only everyone!’ he chuckles, pushing his glasses up his nose.  ‘But I kept saying a gentleman never tells, like you said.’

‘Brilliant.  And did anything happen?’

‘Yes!  All the girls were swarming around me asking questions and...Well, I think a few of them might have even been flirting with me.’

‘Really?  See!’

‘Poppy, these clothes are great,’ he says, smiling at himself in the mirror.  ‘I think I’m going to take all of them.’

I’ve managed to pull together a great geek-chic look for him.  Anything else would have been going against what he is.  Instead his new wardrobe consists of skinny jeans, layered cardigans, t-shirts, smart blazers, and fitted shirts.  I’ve even included a few bow ties, but instructed him as to what he can wear them with.  He looks amazing. 

Next I drag him to the opticians where I force him to buy new black oversized frames, and then to the barbers.  The barber cuts his curly light brown hair tighter to his head and shows him how to apply wax to it to keep it looking fresh. 

I stand back to survey him and can't believe the transformation.  He’s like a shiny new penny.  If I didn’t know him and saw him on the street I’d do a double take.  He looks gorgeous.    

‘Poppy, I really don't know how to thank you.  I love it.’

‘You’re welcome,’ I say, sneaking another look at him.  I’m so proud.

‘I can't wait to show it off back at work.’

‘I know!  Me too!  Now, if anyone at work asks you out all you can say is “Maybe.  If you play your cards right”.  You need to treat them mean to keep them keen.’

‘That really works?’ he asks, pushing his new glasses up his nose.

‘Definitely.’

‘Great.  Thanks so much,’ he beams, hugging me tightly before bustling up towards our office; a new spring in his step.

*                            *                            *

When I get in that night I’m tired.  The weather’s remained hot and clammy, and all I want to do is jump in the shower and then get an early night.  My phone rings, flashing up ‘Jazz’.

‘Hey hun.’

‘Oh my God babe, have you seen the paper?  Ryan’s on the front page?’ she shouts excitedly.

‘Yeah I know.  It's all my fault,’ I say sighing. 

‘Why?  It's a good thing isn’t it?’

‘Not really,’ I say quietly.

‘Oh babe, what have you done?’

‘It's...a bit of a long story.’  I hope she won't have time to listen to me.

‘Great.  I’m coming to pick you up now.  We’re going to Emily’s birthday.’

‘Emily?’

‘Yeah, you know – from Uni.  She’s hired a bar in Harrow.  It should be a laugh.’

‘Oh...I don't know...I’m really knackered.’

‘Too late, I’m already in a cab.  Be at yours in ten.’  She hangs up immediately before I can protest.

*                            *                            *

‘So Poppy, have you managed to bag yourself a fella yet?’ Chris asks me, his onion breath on the back of my neck.

‘Not yet,’ I smile politely.  ‘I’ve just got to find Jazz to sort out a taxi.  Excuse me.’

Well this night’s been a disaster.  Damn Jazz.  Forcing me here tonight and then leaving me to endure everyone from Uni questioning me about my life.  It's more like a reunion than a birthday party.  And what have I got to say about myself?  Nothing.  Nothing is going well in my life.  Everyone I speak to is either engaged, or married, or with kids.  Hell, even the single people have amazing careers, or they’ve travelled the world.  How do you make staying in watching telly and drinking tea sound fun?

I search around the bar for her, but all I find is more excitable people, trying to engage me in conversation.  Where is she?  Typical.  She always goes off to places without telling me.

‘Has anyone seen Jazz?’ I ask random people as they pass me.

‘Hey Poppy,’ Tom, another guy I vaguely remember from Uni says.  ‘She’s gone on to the after party.’

‘You’re joking!  Do you know where it is?’ I ask, hating being left this vulnerable.  I swear to God, when I find her I’m gonna ring her neck.

‘We’re just going there now.  Come with us.’  He guides me outside and points towards a taxi. 

I glance in the taxi and see a few girls in there.  He holds the door open for me.

‘OK thanks.’

As I step into the taxi the women get out of the other side and I’m left with just Tom and his friend with buck teeth that I haven’t met before.  A sinking feeling in my stomach tells me this doesn’t feel right.  I ring Jazz.

‘Hey, this is Jazz...’

Straight to voicemail for the fiftieth time tonight.

‘Hey Jazz, it's me.  I’ve gone on to the after party with Tom.  See you soon.’

‘So, do you have a boyfriend these days then?’ Tom enquires, grinning widely.

‘No, unfortunately not,’ I smile.  ‘What about you?’

‘No-one special,’ he winks.

I look away quickly, hoping I haven’t led him on.  I should have just told him I was a lesbian or training to be a nun.

‘Here we are,’ Tom says to the taxi driver a few minutes later.

We pull up outside a white semi-detached house in a residential street.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ I ask as I get out, aware that there's no noise or lights on.

‘Yeah course I am,’ he says, putting his hand on my waist and ushering me in.

A sickening feeling creeps into the pit of my stomach as I reluctantly get pushed into the house.  The stench of stale beer and sweat welcoming me once inside makes me gag.  By the time I’ve got into the sitting room I realise there’s no party here tonight.  It's only us three.

‘W...where’s the others?’ I ask, trying to remain calm.

‘What others?’ he asks locking the front door with a key and putting it in his pocket.

‘You know...the others.  For the party,’ I smile, kicking myself for being so stupid.

‘They’re probably on their way.’

I look over to his friend, sat on the sofa lining up some coke and feel myself start to sweat.  This is a disaster.  I’m going to get raped.   

‘I’m just gonna call Jazz,’ I say, my voice breaking as I get out my phone.

‘Hey, this is Jazz...’

Again with the voicemail!  What the fuck!?  OK, don't panic.  I’m sure Izzy will be available.  Izzy goes straight to voicemail too.  I try Jazz one more time in desperation.   

‘Just me again! 
Please
call me as soon as you get this, OK?’

The trick is not to panic.  It's going to be fine.  You’ve just gone back to a friend’s house.  You knew Tom in Uni.  Well, sort of.  Enough to trust him, right?  Enough to be sure he wouldn’t force you to do something you don't want to do. 

‘Sit down darling,’ Tom says, pushing me towards the sofa.  I fall back on it and quickly sit up straight, crossing my legs tightly together.  ‘You want a line?’

‘No, I’m...I’m fine thanks,’ I say, my voice barely audible. 

‘Really?  Might loosen you up a bit.’  He smirks before snorting one himself.

Loosen me up for what?  Oh God.  They’re going to attack me.  I can just feel it.  My hands start shaking and my upper lip starts sweating.  I sit on my hands to stop them from noticing

He moves closer to me on the sofa as he rubs some remaining coke into his gums, his eyes suddenly crazed.  Unease creeps over me.  His shoulders are pretty massive and I suddenly remember he used to play rugby at Uni.  He leans closer again, his huge physical presence threatening.  Would I be able to fight him off?  Would he let me?

‘This is a lovely road.  What's the name of it?’ I ask, standing up and carefully edging closer to the door.

‘Don't worry about that sweetheart.  Come and sit on my knee.’

‘Actually I think I should go.’  I walk slowly towards the door, still facing him.

With one fast move he blocks me.

‘Where you going?’ he asks, his eyes wide, staring at my breasts.

‘I...I told you.  I’ve got to get home,’ I say, a tear escaping from my eye despite trying to remain strong.

‘You can stay here tonight,’ he says, a lewd whisper.

‘Just tell me what area this is and unlock the door,’ I say, trying to sound strong and determined, but it instead coming out as a weak pathetic whisper.

‘Come on sweetheart.  Don't be shy.’  He moves closer and wraps his arm round my waist. 

‘Please.  Just let me go,’ I say, thick tears starting to fall.

I look into his wide unhinged eyes and see that he has no intention of letting me go.  Not until he’s got what he wants.  Oh my God.  This is happening.  I’ll be able to fight him off, right?  But what if he gets a knife and threatens to kill me?  Would I rather get raped and live, or die?  OK, think straight.  There must be a bathroom here someone, it must have a lock.  Just get there and ring someone.

‘I’m...I’m just going to go to the toilet.’  I attempt a natural smile.

I turn and bolt for it, running to the top of the stairs as quickly as my legs will carry me.  I dive into the bathroom, turning round to shut the door.  I’ve almost closed it when something wedges in its way.  His foot.  How did he get up here so fast?  I look at him, pleading with my eyes for him not to touch me.