I carry on scrubbing the cupboards. I won’t feel satisfied until every inch is spotless. ‘No’ I reply. I can’t bring myself to talk to him. Everything with Kylie feels so raw, and also I can’t help but feel like Shaun is the reason we fell out. The truth is, I’m the reason we fell out, but that’s because I lied about Shaun. As a result, I feel guilty about being with him. Everything is a big old mess, so I’m cleaning. Cleaning always makes me feel better.

  She sighs and looks at the phone screen. ‘Shaun has been calling all day!’

  ‘I’ve been really busy, cleaning.’ Which is the truth but I don’t feel like telling her why.

  ‘Have you two fallen out?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So you’re ignoring him because you feel guilty about Kylie?’

  I sigh, and look up at Priya, ‘You know me too well… ‘

  Priya folds her arms and looks like she’s about to chastise me, ‘I do. I know that it’d be just like you to sacrifice your happiness and sabotage something great in the hope that it’ll make someone else feel better. But it won’t make Kylie feel better, will it?’

  I carry on cleaning, this time with a pout. ‘I doubt it. We’re not talking, anyway.’

  ‘Are you likely to make up?’

  The question itself hurts. The truth hurts even more. ‘I don’t know.’

  Priya unfolds her arms and sounds softer this time, ‘So why are you throwing Shaun away for her?’

  ‘I’m not. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.’

  ‘I know what you’re doing; you’re punishing yourself, only you’re not just punishing yourself; you’re punishing Shaun.’

  ‘I don’t know what to tell him.’

  ‘Just tell him the truth.’

  ‘I fell out with my best friend because we’re going out?’

  ‘Tell him an easily digestible version of the truth.’

  ‘None of this is easy to digest. I’ve lost the best friend I ever had. I messed up.’

  ‘Oh, Lex, things have a way of working themselves out.’

  ‘Is that your answer for everything? Love finds a way; friendship finds a way…’

  ‘All I’m saying is… what’s the phrase? If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours. If they don’t, it was never meant to be.’

  I roll my eyes at her, ‘You’re like one of those pull-string dolls. One that just says cheesy, generic phrases.’

  ‘How about this phrase: Call Shaun.’ She picks up my phone and holds it out to me.

  ‘That’s not very generic…’ I say light-heartedly, but Priya doesn’t crack a smile. She stands there, just holding my phone. Priya always gets her own way.

  I roll my eyes and try to look sincere. ‘When I’ve finished cleaning, I will.’

  ‘You better. I’ll see you later. If you feel like stalling any longer, I have some laundry for you to do.’

  I wait for Priya to leave and then take off my rubber gloves. The whole house is spotless, and I don’t feel any better. But I can’t ignore him any longer. When I pick up my phone, there’s another message.

  Are we okay? Did I do something?

  How could I make Shaun feel bad when he’s done nothing wrong? Apparently I won’t be satisfied until I’ve alienated everyone around me. Well that’s changing from now on. No more lies, no more alienating people. I’m going to put everything I have into giving Shaun and me a chance.

  Everything’s fine, you did nothing. Want to come over? I’ll tell you all about it.

  Kylie

  I’m dressed for the first time in five days, as I’ve finally run out of snacks. The plan was to pop out, get food, and come back, but my financial situation is so dire that I need to look for a job. So I’ve done my hair, meaning I’ve brushed it and set it with some spray, and I’m looking pretty presentable. I just need some shoes and I can head out. The shoes I’ve been wearing recently are the black and white pair from Alexa. A present to help me remember my youth, which now serve as a reminder of what I need to leave behind. I put on some grey flats instead and make my way towards the city centre.

  I have little work experience under my belt; the office job from which I was fired, and a Saturday job washing dishes in a restaurant during college. With all this in mind, I have no idea where to even start looking for work. I take a deep breath and walk into what is clearly a high-end boutique, although once inside its décor gives off more of a high-class brothel vibe. Intimidated but desperate, I approach the pouting sales assistant, ‘Excuse me, do you have any vacancies?’ She looks at me with a pained and mildly disgusted expression as though I’m something on the bottom of her shoe.

  ‘No,’ she replies. Shocker.

  As desperate as I am to find a job, I’m pretty relieved and leave as quickly as I can. Not before accidentally knocking over a display item. Mortified and clearly unable to pay for anything broken, I run to the next shop, not looking at what it is. I get inside and catch my breath before looking around and when I do, the whiteness of the walls and furniture almost blind me. Then I see what’s on the racks and rails and wish I was blind: it’s a baby boutique. I make my way to the counter, past the wicker baskets of metal rattles and rows of pink booties. Some of the booties are diamanté encrusted and I nearly choke when I see the price tag. Babies don’t even bloody walk!

  ‘Excuse me, do you have any vacancies?’ I ask the middle-aged woman behind the counter with a poof of auburn hair and large glasses that are hanging from a chain around her neck. She puts them on and peers at me.

  ‘Do you have retail experience?’

  Oh dear. ‘Yes,’ I lie, ‘I also have a degree.’

  ‘Do you like children?’

  ‘Of course. Babies are adorable,’ I lie again.

  ‘Do you know the difference between a muslin cloth and a burp cloth?’

  Crap. ‘No,’ I admit, ‘but I’m a quick learner.’

  ‘Do you know what an iCandy is?’

  ‘Is it the latest trendy gadget?’ What has this got to do with babies?

  ‘Sorry.’

  So apparently you have to be an expert in something to sell it now.

  It’s been hours, and so far, an entirely fruitless venture. I’ve gained nothing, and I’m about to lose everything. On top of it all, I really shouldn’t have worn these shoes. My feet hurt now as well as my brain and my heart. My life is officially buggered. I have five pounds left to my name. I was going to buy as many custard creams as I could, but seeing as my life has turned to shit and I have no other options but to go back to my parents, fuck it; I’m going to buy a stiff drink. A send off, if you will.

  Because the universe hates me, the first bar I come to is the one in which I met Harry. I walk past it as quickly as possible, despite my blistered feet, and take refuge in the next one I see.

  It’s not as stuffy or dark in here as some bars I’ve been in. It’s light and fresh, with art on the walls and rustic wood. In the seven years I’ve lived here, I still haven’t been to half of the places in this city. A pang of regret and sadness hits me as I realise that this won’t be my city for much longer.

  ‘Kylie?’ someone calls my name. I recognise that voice… Alicia.

  ‘Alicia?’

  ‘Kylie! Wow, long time no see. Come sit with me! How are you doing? What are you doing here?’

  I take reluctant steps to Alicia and sit down at the bar. What am I doing here? I can’t exactly tell her the truth, ‘I’m on my lunch break.’

  ‘You are? But this is a bar…’

  Why would I be in a bar on my lunch break? Think, Kylie, think. ‘I’ve had a really hard day.’

  ‘Oh really? Well, I guess being a psychologist can be draining. That was your degree, right? How’s it going?’

  It isn’t. It went nowhere. A bit like me. I’m going nowhere except back to my parents’ spare bedroom. ‘Oh, you know. Fine. Draining.’

  ‘But rewarding?’

  Financially? No. Emotionally? No. My degree is a very expensive piece of paper, ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Brilliant. Aww, I’m so pleased for you. I’m just here for a quick glass of fizz to celebrate picking up an excellent client. It’s the highlight of my career actually! There’s a surprise party for me later organised by my colleagues, not that I’m supposed to know, but I couldn’t resist a quick toast to myself. Grab yourself a drink, on me, and we can have a toast together.’

  ‘Oh, sure.’ I smile and curse the universe. As if I wasn’t already having a terrible day, fate has struck me with Alicia. She looks exactly the same as she did at university; still as thin, damn it, and with salon-fresh hair. This time she has tousled ombre curls that fall on her tanned shoulders. She smiles her pearly-whites and clicks her fingers in the air.

  ‘Barman! A white wine for Kylie.’

  Alicia talks on and on about herself, but I’ve stopped listening and instead I’m watching the barman make my drink. He’s gorgeous. Not your normal type of gorgeous, but Jared-Leto-circa-2012 gorgeous. His hair is better than mine and his eyes are so blue and inviting that I’d love to dive right in. He puts the glass of wine in front of me.

  Suddenly, Alicia’s phone begins to ring, ‘Oh, can you pay for that? I’ve got to take this.’

  ‘That’ll be £5.50.’

  Shit. I look to Alicia to ask for change but she’s already gone. I hand him a crumbled up five pound note and search through my bag and pockets for 50p in a state of panic. I feel myself turning red. This is no send off. I’ll have to admit I haven’t the money to Alicia and die of embarrassment. I would ditch her right now but the barman is standing opposite me, waiting. ‘I don’t have the 50p,’ I tell him, ‘it’s lost, like my will to live.’

  The barman smiles in amusement, with thin lips but a perfect cupid’s bow framing pearly whites. ‘Take the drink.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I ask, feeling like a charity case. Although I suppose I am.

  ‘Yeah. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your… friend.’

  I thank him and he nods. I take a sip of the wine, just as Alicia comes back. ‘I’ve got to go, business calls.’ She knocks back the last of her drink, ‘enjoy your lunch break. We’ve got to catch up soon okay? I’ll message you.’

  ‘Oh, such a shame. Yeah, message me and we’ll get together,’ I say with absolute certainty that we won’t get together. For starters, I’ll be avoiding her at all costs. I never did like Alicia very much. She’s richer now with good hair and tinted eyebrows, but she’s still the same annoying Alicia. I watch her leave and I don’t know if it’s that fact or the alcohol but I feel much more relaxed.

  ‘So, where is it?’ asks the barman.

  ‘What? I don’t know, I don’t really keep change on me I guess.’

  He laughs and I suddenly feel less relaxed.

  ‘No,’ he says, pouring a drink for someone nearby, ‘your will to live.’

  ‘Oh. That went ages ago. Probably around the time I got fired and dumped simultaneously and then lost my best friend.’

  ‘Wow, that’s rough.’

  ‘Yep. And now, I have to finish this drink and go home defeated. I can’t find a job. I am out of money and options. I’m going to have to leave the city, my home, and go back to my parents and live miserably ever after.’

  I can imagine it now; turning up at my childhood home, wheelie suitcase in hand. Mum would invite me in politely, but the throbbing vein in her neck that appears when she’s particularly furious would give away how she really feels. She’d take me to my old bedroom, which was changed into an office the second I left for university, and I would leave my stuff next to the blow-up bed. She would last until dinner where passive-aggressive comments would trickle out somewhere between shepherd’s pie and apple crumble. Eventually a lecture including phrases like ‘not getting any younger’ and ‘why couldn’t you have tried harder?’ would ensue. Before I know it, she’d have found me a job that I’d have no option but to take. Slowly but surely, I’d settle into mediocre village life and start looking forward to church bake sales.

  ‘I wouldn’t give up just yet.’

  He’s now sitting opposite me behind the bar, close enough that I can smell him. It’s enough to distract me from my thoughts.

  ‘Why? It’s hopeless.’

  ‘It’s only after we’ve lost everything, that we’re free to do anything.’

  ‘Well, that’s not entirely true.’

  ‘Okay but you can’t just give up your life here and go back to live with your parents. This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.’

  ‘And I thought I was depressed before I came in here.’

  He stares at me in amazement. He’s really starting to annoy me, regardless of his looks. ‘Have you seriously never seen Fight Club?’

  ‘No,’ I admit. Great. Now I’m uncultured. Unemployed and uncultured.

  ‘Go home and watch it, and then come back here tomorrow 9am, Kylie.’ He gets up to see to a customer.

  What? ‘Are you setting me homework?’

  He smirks and shakes his head. ‘Yes. Come back tomorrow, 9am sharp and tell me how much you loved the film and then your next homework will be learning how to pull a pint.’

  I stand, dumbfounded. He’s offering me a job, unless I’m mistaken. A great sense of relief kicks in, but I suppress it. I shouldn’t be too hasty, considering what happened the last time I was promised a job. ‘Why should I trust you?’

  He looks over from where he is, ‘I’m not saying you should trust me. Be here, tomorrow, 9am and find out for yourself. What do you have to lose?’

  Nothing is the answer, although I don’t reply. Lost for words, I nod and quietly shuffle out of the bar and set off for home. Home! Maybe I can still call the city that after all.

  Alexa

  Shaun strokes my hair, which is something I’ve always loved. It soothes me somewhat but I still feel wretched as I curl up on the sofa, staring at the television but not watching it at all.

  ‘I can’t stand to see you like this.’

  Neither can I. ‘I’ll be okay. It was my own fault anyway.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s as black and white as you lying and her being hurt. You must have lied for a reason; you must have felt you had to lie.’

  He gets it, he gets me, and I feel better for it. I look up at him, ‘I didn’t want to hurt her.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he smoothes the hair around my face, ‘you made an error of judgement, fine. But Kylie blew it out of proportion.’

  ‘I guess…’

  ‘You know what I think? I think she’s lashing out at you because she’s jealous of how well you’re doing. She said some terrible things to you, but has she called you to apologise?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So she hurt you, after you went to sort things out, and she hasn’t called? It doesn’t sound great. Maybe, one day, you’ll look back and realise it was right you two fell out.’

  Could he be right? I don’t know. I hope not. But he’s right about one thing: Kylie hasn’t called. I’ve even looked online to see what she’s been up to. Alicia Combs tagged her saying ‘Good to see you, must meet up soon to have a proper catch up’. When did they become friends? I thought Kylie couldn’t stand Alicia, and yet apparently they’re hanging out. She’s clearly moving on. Maybe I should too.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he says, kissing my forehead, ‘everything will work itself out. You’ve got me.’

  I force a smile, although I am happy Shaun’s here. If only it wasn’t under these circumstances. ‘I do. I’m lucky to have you. It’s just so weird not having Kylie in my life. I mean, the only reason I decided to stay here after university was Kylie. She is, or rather, was, a big part of my life. We used to talk all day and call each other after work.’

  ‘Well, I’ll call you every day after work.’ He runs his fingers through my hair.

  ‘Tomorrow is Friday, and we always meet at the café to catch up. As the days go on I’m finding Kylie-shaped-holes in my life. Maybe I should just move back to my home town…’

  ‘No! You can’t leave! You’ll have to find new people and new traditions to fill those holes.’

  ‘Who? I see enough of Priya already. Besides, we don’t have a lot of shared interests.’

  ‘No friend from your university days?’

  I shrug, ‘None I’ve kept in touch with, or want to reunite with. Except a few mutual friends who will no doubt be Team Kylie.’ In fact, I’m surprised the witch hunt hasn’t already begun.

  ‘What about work colleagues?’

  ‘I don’t really know any of them. There’s Emma in accounting, we share a hello and a smile if we bump into each other in the staff kitchen. But she’s quite a bit older than me.’

  ‘You’re an old soul, it’s worth a try. I bet it’ll be great.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Absolutely! Go in tomorrow, find Emma and strike up a conversation that goes beyond “hi, nice weather we’re having”. Get yourself out there.’

  ‘It’s not a bad idea…’

  ‘Have you cheered up yet? My hand’s getting tired,’ he says referring to the fact he’s been stroking my hair this whole time.

  ‘Nearly, just one more minute?’ I really do love it.

  ‘For you, one more minute.’

  Kylie

  With all this running I do, you’d think my body would be used to it. But as I run to work with breakfast threatening to make a reappearance, it appears that’s not the case. I arrive with minutes to spare, make a mental note to Google what a heart attack feels like, and head in. Oliver, the guy who hired me, and a girl called Zara, are already there.

  ‘Morning, Ky,’ says Zara. She’s taken to calling me Ky and I don’t know how I feel about it.

  ‘Morning, Zara, Oliver… am I late?’

  ‘Nope, you’re right on time. Zara just came in early to pester me into letting her favourite band’s music play in the bar.’

  ‘They’re going to be huge on the indie scene. You’ll be thanking me one day.’

  Oliver frowns, ‘If they’re going to be huge, won’t they go mainstream not indie?’

 

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