The Wrong Side of Twenty-Five, page 16
‘I don’t think so.’
‘What about to wear in bed?’
‘No, I have plenty of night wear. In fact, I bought a pair of short pyjamas last week.’
‘I don’t mean pyjamas. I mean something special for bed.’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Don’t you want to be able to go to bed, in Rome of all places, looking sexy?’
‘I hadn’t thought about it.’ I stop by a selection of nightwear, which are sheer and delicate instead of my usual cotton ones.
‘What about this one?’ Priya picks up a tasteful semi-sheer black nightie, with lace edges.
‘It’s quite nice,’ I say, uncertain. But time isn’t on my side right now. I have to be back in the office in ten minutes. ‘I’ll take it.’
Priya smiles, she loves to win. ‘You won’t regret it’. We walk on to the counter.
At the counter, I go through my list. ‘I think that’s everything. I’ll just need to pop to the chemist after work for travel-sized toiletries.’
‘Use the hotel’s stuff.’
‘I guess I could.’
‘Are you excited?’
‘Yeah, it’ll be nice.’
‘Nice? Are you kidding? You’re being taken to Rome by your boyfriend. It’s more than nice.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’
‘It’s ridiculously good. Hold on to Shaun, he’s one of the good ones. He’s almost too good to be true.’
‘What if he is, too good to be true?’
Priya ponders this for a second, and then shakes her head. ‘No way, he’s totally genuine. I’ve thought about this, actually, and could list at least ten different reasons why I think you two are a perfect match and meant to be. One, you met organically. It wasn’t forced, through an awkward match up or blind date. Two, you went at your own pace, you didn’t go on a date for ages and he didn’t get bored or…’
I smile. Priya enjoys a good argument and loves backing up her opinions with facts. I enjoy countering her arguments, but I think I’ll let her win this one.
Kylie
I’m in leggings, which have a small hole in the crotch but are so comfortable that I have resisted throwing them away, and a cosy long-sleeved top that I’ve dug thumb holes in over the years. And no, the top doesn’t cover my bum nor the hole in my crotch. This isn’t going out attire, but it’s perfect for sitting crossed legged on my bed and listening to music, which is what I’m doing right now. I’m home alone and have nowhere to be. It feels a little lonely, but I’m trying to be at peace with it.
My phone lights up in the corner of my eye. Excited, I pick it up, only to see that it’s Mum calling. Disappointed, I sigh and answer, ‘Hi, Mum.’ I have a feeling I’m not going to be at peace with anything by the end of this conversation.
‘Kylie? I’m on the personal computer, and Robbie has showed me your profile on the Google,’ she says with pride in her voice.
I stifle a laugh. Mum has always been hopeless with computers. She isn’t even that old, not really. She’s just stubborn and resists change, even refusing to get a mobile phone until just about everybody and their dog had one. ‘Oh right that’s cool,’ I reply.
‘I thought you’d want to know that it says you work at a bar. Have you been hacked? I’ve heard about people getting hacks. You can’t click on those Google pages offering free things. Robbie told me that, after last time. Like always in life, if something sounds too good to be true that’s because it probably is.’
‘No, Mum, I haven’t been hacked.’
‘What do you mean?’
I sigh. It’s time. Here I go. ‘I got a new job, in a bar.’
Silence.
‘I don’t understand. You got a second job?’
‘No. I replaced my existing job.’
‘You quit a respectful, stable job to work in a bar?’
‘It wasn’t the job for me. That’s all that needs to be said.’
More silence. Then muffled sounds. Possibly the sounds of Mum having a stroke or a my-daughter-quit-her-respectable-job induced aneurysm.
‘Well, darling, I just don’t know what to say. Did you at least leave your old job on good terms? You didn’t burn any bridges did you?’
No, but I wouldn’t mind setting Janine on fire. ‘No I didn’t, but it’s irrelevant because I’m not going back. I’m happy, Mum.’
‘You can’t pay the bills with happy, Kylie.’
‘I’m paying them just fine so far.’
‘Well sure, while you rent a room in a house, but you can’t rent a room forever and you can’t work your way up in a bar job. This is completely irresponsible. What did Alexa say? She’s a sensible girl, she can’t have agreed to this.’
Alexa was understanding, and compassionate about what really happened with my job. In all my anger I had forgotten how good she was to me during that dark time. ‘I didn’t ask her permission… I can make my own decisions.’
‘Look I’ve got to go, but please talk to Alexa about this: she’s always helped you make good choices in the past. I just worry about you, darling, in a big city on your own.’
‘It’s true that I live in a big city full of strangers, crime happens daily, you don’t know what’s waiting around the corner…’ or on the other side of a phone call, ‘but I’ll be fine. I like my new job, it pays enough, and I’m doing good.’
‘Hmm, yes, well we’ll see. Speak to you soon.’
I hang up. Why does every interaction with her leave me feeling so terrible? I could scream! Instead, I get up and pace around, trying to work off the pent up frustration that I feel. In the past, whenever I felt frustrated by Mum or anyone, I would turn to Alexa. Now I have no one, not even Lucie because she’s out somewhere overnight. I sit down, defeated. I just wish I had someone who would hold me and listen to me. For a crazy moment I yearn for Harry. And then I realise there’s someone better who I can turn to.
Hey, can I come over?
Alexa
‘Hi, er, buona sera… we have reservations? Alexa and Shaun Abbott.’
‘Alexa Chapman, that is,’ I add. He shoots me a puzzled look and I shrug apologetically. I’m being pedantic, but he made it sound like we share a surname and it was instinct to correct him.
We’re given keys and I follow Shaun as he carries our bags up to the hotel room. At long last we’ve made it to Rome. I’m exhausted. So is Shaun, and I can carry my own bag but he insisted. He opens our hotel room and puts the bags down.
I walk in, tired and in need of a shower but neither of those factors are enough to distract from how beautiful this room is. It’s full of character, save for a modern bed with brilliantly white sheets. It looks so clean! Usually, I don’t like the idea of a hotel bed because of how many people sleep in it but this bed looks like it’s brand new.
‘So, what do you think?’ he asks.
‘It’s stunning,’
‘I agree. It’s a beautiful room, looks just like the photos on the website.’ He walks across to the window and looks out, ‘It looks like it’ll be a great view when it’s daylight.’
‘I can’t wait to explore Rome.’ I join him by the window, looking out at the darkened view ‘thank you for bringing me here.’
‘Thank you for coming with me.’ He turns and kisses me against the backdrop of sleepy Rome. It feels magical. I might be tired from travelling but I feel exhilarated.
‘Shall we go to bed?’
‘You read my mind.’ He kisses me again, putting his hands on my waist.
‘Is it okay if I freshen up first?’ I break away from him. I know what he wants, but I really want to wash my face and get into clean pyjamas.
He smiles, ‘Of course it is. Go and freshen up, I’ll be waiting.’
The bathroom looks like it could be in an interior design magazine. I make a mental note to take pictures of it tomorrow, along with the rest of Rome. It’s such a beautiful place to be. However, when I look in the mirror I see travelling has taken its toll. I rid my face of make-up, hoping I won’t scare Shaun. We’re still in that stage where we pretend we look perfect and smell nice every second of the day, but I don’t want to smudge foundation and mascara all over the hotel bedding. It’s a risk I feel I have to take. When I’m changed into pyjamas (the nice ones I picked up when I went shopping with Priya), I head out to find Shaun already in bed.
‘You look beautiful,’ he says. I blush. I’m not used to be being told I’m beautiful at all, let alone bare-faced and showing more flesh than I care to. He pats the bed and I know that’s my cue to get in. I don’t know if it’s because I’m so tired, but it’s the most comfortable bed I’ve ever lain in. He gestures me to lie in the nook of his arm and I do. As I lie there in Shaun’s arms, I feel a rush of happiness and calm. For a moment, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. And then I remember, and feel a flood of guilt. I shuffle uncomfortably as it threatens to consume my body.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I just… I can’t help but feel bad. That I’m so happy, when I made Kylie so sad and—’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Shaun soothes.
‘It’s just weird how things turn out. I don’t feel I deserve all of this.’
‘Of course you do. Now, I don’t want you to worry any more about Kylie or anything else while we’re here. Let me look after you, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I say as I settle back down. Shaun strokes my hair as I succumb to tiredness.
Kylie
I knock on Jason’s door and wait. But I don’t have to wait for long and soon enough he opens the door. ‘Come in,’ he says quietly. I step into his house.
‘It’s dark in here,’ I say as I look around. Although even in the darkness I can tell it’s messy and dirty. I shiver in the open doorway, wondering if I should have come at all.
‘Everyone’s chilling in their bedrooms.’ He gestures me in and shuts the door. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘No thanks.’
‘You seem quiet tonight.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. Come on, we’ll talk in my room.’
I follow him upstairs and into a bedroom. It’s more cluttered than mine by miles, but not half as cosy. I sit on the unmade bed and Jason sits next to me.
‘What’s up then? You don’t seem yourself at all.’
‘My mum rang tonight,’ I pick at the thumb-holes in my top, ‘and I had to tell her that I’ve got a new job in a bar. She was horrified and disappointed. I’m used to disappointing her but… I fell out with my best friend recently. With Alexa by my side, not much bothered me. But now I have no one. I’m a disappointment and I’m a failure and I’m alone.’
I feel an arm drape around me. Jason pulls me closer. He smells slightly of body odour, but he’s warm and I let him hold me.
‘You’re none of those things,’ he says gently.
‘I am. I’m twenty-five and I don’t have a solid career or a boyfriend or even a friend. For once my mum’s disappointment seems valid.’
‘You’ll find your feet. And in the meantime, you have me.’
‘Jason…’
‘Yeah?’
‘Can I stay here tonight?’
‘Of course.’ He squeezes me tighter for reassurance.
I sigh with relief and start to relax. ‘Thanks. I just need to be with someone.’
‘I’ll be here for you. Don’t worry about a thing.’
I lie back against Jason and he holds me tight. It feels nice. We lie in the quiet.
‘Will you stroke my hair?’ I whisper.
‘No. But I will fondle your boobs if that would help.’
‘Goodnight, Jason.’
I close my eyes and try to sleep. Jason puts his hand on my waist, which feels a little too close to my boob region so I gently nudge him away and his hand settles on my arm. He plays with a few stray curls which I enjoy until his arm drops and I hear him begin to snore gently but it’s rhythmic and rather nice. But just as I start to fall asleep, I’m jolted awake as Jason removes his arm from under me and rolls over. And then I lie in the dark, alone.
Alexa
I wake up alone, the space Shaun occupies is empty with the covers pushed away.
‘Good morning, gorgeous,’ I hear. I roll over and see Shaun standing there with a tray.
‘Morning. I didn’t hear you wake up.’
‘I sneaked out quietly to order room service,’ he says as he puts the tray down on the bed. An array of pastries, succulent fruit and aromatic Italian coffee. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. This is the second day Shaun has woken me up with breakfast. I could get used to it, but tomorrow we’re going back home and I’ll be back to making myself muesli before work.
‘I almost don’t want to eat it. I’ll ruin it.’
‘It’s there to be eaten, silly.’ He kisses me on the head. ‘Enjoy it; I’m just going to jump in the shower.’
I watch him go to the bathroom, hear the shower turn on and turn my attention to breakfast. I wasn’t kidding about not wanting to eat it, it’s magnificent looking. I take a photo of it with my phone and post it to social media, to preserve its memory. Some scoff at the notion of photographing good food, but in history people went to the trouble of making extravagant oil paintings of their food. I sip the coffee, which has a smooth taste unlike any coffee you’ll find back home, and check social media. My old friend Clair from school comments that the breakfast looks heavenly. She also commented on a photo of me and Shaun at the Pantheon yesterday, saying what a perfect couple we are. Sarah agreed. I look at us standing together, side by side with Shaun’s arm around me, and smile. We really do look like a perfect couple.
I put the coffee down and pick up a pastry as the shower turns off and Shaun steps into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. Apparently I don’t have to leave my hotel bed for a nice view.
‘So where shall we go today?’
‘I was thinking we could go to the Sistine chapel, and then maybe look around town and buy some souvenirs… if that’s okay?’
‘Of course it’s okay, babe. I’ll take you wherever you like.’ He gets dressed while I finish my pastry and help myself to grapes.
‘Can we get some Gelato?’
‘Definitely.’ He sits down next to me, takes a grape and looks at what I’m looking at, ‘Hey I like that photo.’
‘I like it too.’
‘Can I send it to my mum?’
‘Sure.’
‘She’s going to love it, you look beautiful.’ He smiles at me, just like he’s smiling in the photo. Maybe as well as looking like the perfect couple, we actually are one.
Kylie
I’m standing atop a pile of clothes, unsure of what to wear. Zara has invited me along with her on a night out and I should be setting off soon, only I’m still in my pyjamas. If I’m honest, I’m nervous. I love a good night out, but this won’t be my idea of a night out. Zara will put her own cool, edgy spin on it.
With that in mind, I need to put a cool and edgy spin on my outfit. I wiggle into a black dress and nearly break my arm as I contort it around my back in order to zip it up. I’ll never understand who thought it was a good idea for dresses to zip up at the back. I’ve decided to keep my hair wild and with a sweep or three of eyeliner, and one last look in the mirror, I’m ready.
It feels weird stepping out into the night, stone cold sober, dressed to the nines. Usually Alexa comes round and we have pre-drinks before walking side by side to town together.
When I reach work, where we’re supposed to meet, Zara isn’t there and I wonder if I should go in. It’s a choice between that or standing outside alone. I go in. Oliver sees me and stands looking amused, like always. I hate that I can’t read him.
‘Kylie, damn, you scrub up well,’ he says without a hint of sarcasm.
‘Thanks, so do you,’ I say without thinking and fumble to correct myself. ‘I mean, you probably do. Erm, I’m just waiting for Zara.’
‘She’ll be late. She always is. Have a drink on me. White wine?’
His light-hearted dig isn’t lost on me, ‘Yes please. I can’t afford to turn down a free drink.’
‘So, where is Zara taking you tonight?’
‘I have no idea. Do you?’
‘Oh I’m guessing it will be somewhere unimaginably pretentious with music you’ve never heard before.’ He passes me a glass of wine.
‘Come on, she’s not that bad.’
‘Well, you can tell me all about it tomorrow on your shift.’
‘I will.’
‘You can tell me about all the men you’ve pulled.’
‘I’m not going out to pull men!’ I say, feeling my cheeks flush.
‘Hey, it’s not my business. Maybe you’ll go to some hipster bar and see a guy across the room. You’ll be taken aback by his man-bun. He’ll come over and ask you how you feel about Palestine and you’ll want to rip his plaid shirt off.’
‘Shut up. I’m just going to have a nice night out with Zara. Nothing weird is going to happen. I’m not going to rip anyone’s clothes off.’
‘Rip whose clothes off?’ asks Zara, who suddenly appears next to me.
‘Oliver’s. I can’t get enough,’ I say, smirking at Oliver. He shoots me side eyes and a hint of a smile and makes himself busy. Do I see a touch of embarrassment?
‘Come on, let’s go.’ Zara sets off to leave and I down my drink and get up too. ‘See ya, Ollie. Don’t put any shit music on while we’re away. I know you.’
‘Have a good time, ladies.’
The air now feels cooler than when I was last outside and it contrasts with the warming alcohol inside me. I’m fixated on Zara’s outfit, which is a crop top and short legged dungarees. Oh, and a black choker that I haven’t seen the likes off since the early noughties. I’m not going to lie, the look wouldn’t suit many people but she looks amazing from the tip of her Doc Martens to her hair while usually dyed grey, is an array of pastel colours and tied up in pigtail buns.
‘Right then, shall we?’she asks.
