The Wrong Side of Twenty-Five, page 18
‘It’s forgiven. Forgotten.’
‘That’s real cool of you, Kylie.’
‘I’m sorry about what happened between you and me too.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah. I’m sorry I degraded myself to being one of your bar-victims, and falling for your charm.’
‘Kylie!’ shouts Oliver from the store room, ‘I need you.’
That’s my cue. I leave Harry stunned and speechless and leave the bar, feeling victorious.
‘I did it!’ I tell Oliver.
‘You did. And damn, remind me not to break your heart.’
‘Did I do well?’ I feel elated and giddy, full to bursting with adrenaline.
‘You did. You did yourself proud.’
‘I did, didn’t I? Right I’m going back out.’
‘Stay here for a few minutes. You don’t want to over-do it.’
‘Okay.’
Oliver sits on a crate and pats the space next to him.
‘There’s nothing wrong with working in a bar, you know.’
‘Oh, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I love working here.’
‘That’s okay.’
‘Have you always worked in bars?’
‘Pretty much. My real passion is art but there’s no money in it unless you’re lucky. These days people expect artists to pay the bills with exposure. I started working in a bar during uni but I hated the manager and then I moved to a different bar but I had trouble with the manager again. When I graduated in Fine Art, my family expected me to make a career out of it but I knew all along it would be unlikely. So, when I could I bought my own bar. It meant I could have excellent management, aka myself, and a career.’
‘When did you finally get your own bar?’
‘Three years ago. I was twenty-seven.’
I wonder if in two years I will have done anything half as impressive? Probably, definitely, not. ‘That’s incredible,’ I say, ‘you’re incredible.’
He smiles and looks bashful, ‘Well, you’re not so bad yourself, Kylie. Now get back to work.’
When I enter the bar again, Harry is still there and… I don’t believe it! He’s actually chatting up a woman. Right in front of my eyes. He’s offering her a drink and I go over to serve him, feeling amused.
‘What can I get you and your latest bar-victim?’
‘I’m sorry, who are you?’ asks his victim, with a look of confusion.
‘A survivor. What can I get you two?’
‘Actually, can we be served by somebody else?’ asks Harry, looking uncomfortable. I’m ruining his game plan. My heart bleeds for him.
‘Sure,’ I say with as much nonchalance as I can fake. On the inside, I’m screaming at my own audacity. ‘Zara!’ I call.
Zara comes from the other side of the bar. ‘Yes?’
‘Customers for you.’
I give Harry one last smirk and move to the other side of the bar. I’ve never understood the need for closure before, but that interaction with Harry made me so satisfied. Before long, Zara comes up to me, ‘What was that about?’ she asks, ‘who’s the Suit?’
I glance at him again, drinking a Scotch on the rocks, sitting next to a woman who has no idea what’s about to hit her. I feel sorry for her, and I feel sad for him. This is all he has. It feels like I’m seeing him with fresh eyes, and it’s eye opening. ‘Nobody worth bothering over.’
Alexa
I got in from work an hour ago, and I’m still waiting for Shaun to ring. He usually has by now. Priya is working late tonight, so I’m home alone. Fed up, I pick up the phone and call him.
‘Hello?’
‘Shaun? It’s me, Alexa.’
‘Oh, hey. How’s it going?’
‘It’s going good… I thought you were going to call me.’
‘Sorry. I forgot. What are you up to?’
‘Not much. Priya’s not in until later.’
‘Well come over if you want.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Of course. I’ll see you soon, babe.’
‘Okay, I’ll make my way over.’ I hang up, finish my cup of tea and head over to Shaun’s place.
When I get to his apartment, the door is locked and I have to buzz three times before he answers. He greets me at the door in jogging bottoms and an old top, ‘Hey beautiful, come in.’
I follow him into the apartment and make myself comfortable. Football is on. He gives me a quick kiss and continues watching the game. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to interrupt. I suppose we’re at that point where we’re comfortable enough in each other’s company not to have to make a special effort, and I guess that’s a good thing. Or at least it would be, if it didn’t mean I have to watch digital men run around a digital football pitch. How can he do this over and over?
‘Do you play football?’ I ask. I can’t believe I don’t know the answer to that.
‘What, like for real?’
‘Yeah just as a hobby or something.’
‘Not really, not anymore.’
‘Do you wish you did?’
‘Nah, I’m too busy really.’
‘You’re not busy now.’
‘I beg to differ.’ He looks at me, smiles and pats my thigh. ‘Besides, this way I can do it with you right next to me.’
We’re sitting on his black leather sofa, side by side. He returns his gaze to the television and I’m back to being ignored. I remember the first time I came to his place and sat here, full of butterflies and anticipation. Now I’m full of chicken korma and boredom. I get up and walk around for something to do. Upon inspection, Shaun’s living room isn’t as clean as I had thought. Dust lines photo frames, magazines lay crumpled on the floor beside the sofa and the waste-paper bin’s overflowing with empty crisp packets and chocolate bar wrappers.
‘Where’s your cleaning stuff?’
‘What? Oh, in the kitchen under the sink.’
I head to the kitchen, noticing a photo of us from Italy stuck on his fridge and find the cleaning supplies. I’m going to clean every inch of this house, and maybe then he’ll be done with his game and we can have some quality time together. I’m going to start with something that’s been bugging me the whole time I’ve known Shaun and that’s his hallway mirror. I make my way to the hallway. I wipe down the mirror and arrange letters to sit neatly on the side table by the door. The side table has drawers. I look inside, curiosity getting the better of me, and find nothing. Not one thing. That’s odd. Maybe it’s because I only have one room but I utilise every drawer and every nook and cranny available. Come to think of it, a lot of Shaun’s flat is empty. The cloak cupboard has two coats and an old vacuum cleaner, most of the kitchen cupboards are empty and his bedroom has only basic furniture. I open the bedroom windows to let in some fresh air, smooth down the curtains and dust the tops of his drawers. Suddenly, there’s a tap on my shoulder. I jump out of my skin and make a noise that sounds like a pig being stepped on.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Oh, you didn’t. I was just in a world of my own.’
‘Oh yeah? Are you having fun?’ He looks amused and it’s then I realise how sad I might seem, cleaning for pleasure.
I cringe at him, feeling silly ‘Yes. Is that bad?’
‘No, it’s not bad. I’m sorry I’ve been leaving you out. I’ll switch off the game.’
‘It’s okay, carry on. At least until I finish.’
‘If you’re sure?’ he asks, and I nod, ‘okay then.’
As he heads out of the room I say, ‘You have so much space you know. I wish I had all this room.’
‘Yeah, I know. I chose this flat for the space but I’ve never quite managed to fill it. You should fill it.’
I was hoping he’d say that. My mind starts flooding with all the online browsing I’m going to be doing later. ‘Oh yeah? I’ll gladly help you pick out some bits. Some soft furnishings maybe.’ And some fairy lights for over the bed! No, he’d never agree to that.
‘No,’ he says, putting a stop to my thoughts of shopping. ‘What I mean is, you should fill it. You.’
‘Me?’
‘You said it yourself, you wish you had all this room. So have it, and move in with me.’
‘Oh, I mean that’s such a nice gesture. I don’t know what to say.’
‘Say yes. Oh, and have you eaten?’
‘No…’
‘Neither have I. Do you think you could put something together for us?’
‘Sure.’
‘Cheers, babe.’ He leaves and I stand in his room in a state of disbelief, clutching a spray bottle and a cloth and trying to process what just happened. When I said I wish I had all this room, I didn’t exactly mean I wish I could move in with Shaun. I don’t know what to do. It’s all a little overwhelming for a Wednesday evening. I put the spray bottle down, and head to the kitchen to make dinner.
Kylie
Does anyone else get overwhelmed shopping for food? I go in with good intentions, but come out with ready meals, a multi-pack of crisps and a sense of shame. This results in having nothing substantial in and having to run to the corner shop at the last minute for an essential item.
I used to go with Alexa when possible and she always guided me. If she was here I wouldn’t be halfway through the aisles with just a frozen lasagne, three packs of bacon because they were buy-two-get-one-free and a bag of oranges that I won’t eat anyway because I don’t like oranges. I bought them because I have a cold coming on and I was hoping maybe somehow the vitamin C will permeate the room and be absorbed by myself. Anything is worth a try to keep the sneezing at bay. Which reminds me, I need tissues.
I find the tissues and spot a box saying ‘man-sized’ on them. Man-sized? What the hell does that mean? I pick the tissue box up and place them in my basket with defiance. You don’t get to tell me what to do, tissue box! I’ll enjoy blowing my woman-sized nose on them later. That’ll show them.
‘Kylie!’ someone calls. I look around and spot a green-haired Zara.
‘Oh hey,’ I say, ‘small world.’
‘Yes, of all the eight billion people in the world, here we are bumping into each other.’
I never quite know how to take Zara, so instead I smile and take a moment to appreciate her outfit. It’s a strange choice of attire with high-waisted jean-shorts and a jumper that looks like something my nan would knit, tucked in.
‘I’m just getting some food in,’ I tell her, as if it wasn’t obvious from the fact I’m in a supermarket carrying a basket of food.
‘Oh, that’s cool.’ I see her quickly glance at my basket. Is that horror on her face? Oh right, she’s a vegan. It’ll be the bacon she’s recoiling from. And the lasagne.
‘I don’t usually shop here. With my diet being plant-based and me preferring organic, I try to stick to local grocers. But I’m staying at Oliver’s tonight and I can’t not have cashew milk in my morning coffee. So here I am.’ She gestures to the cashew milk in her basket.
‘Oliver’s?’ I spit out, my heart sinking.
‘Yeah, he’s the guy I met last week at that gig, the one I told you about. Don’t you remember?’
I scan my memory for mention of an Oliver, and then with relief I remember she did tell me about meeting a guy called Oliver. ‘Oh, of course. Cool.’
‘Wait,’ she says, laughing, ‘did you think I meant Oliver at work?’
‘I did for a second…’ and may we never talk about it again.
She laughs some more, ‘Can you imagine?’
I can. That’s the worst part. ‘I’d really rather not,’ I lie.
‘Me either! Fuck, that’s funny. Anyway, I better be going. See you tomorrow.’
We’re on shift tomorrow evening. ‘Seven pm, it’s a date.’
She sets off walking and then stops, ‘You know, processed meat takes years off your life. Not just that, but cows are actually really smart. I don’t want to lecture you, so I’ll message the names of some great documentaries. Okay?’
‘Oh, okay. Sure.’
She leaves and I set off down the chocolate aisle, picking up five chocolate bars and two packets of biscuits along the way as I head for the checkout. I leave with the shame that I once again bought nothing of substance, that I’m apparently taking years off my life, that cows are smart and that for a moment I was worried Zara was seeing Oliver. It was much easier when I went shopping with Alexa.
Alexa
I shuffle my way into the passenger seat of Shaun’s car, holding a gift basket wrapped in clear polystyrene tied with a large pink bow.
‘You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, babies don’t need gifts you know.’
‘It’s expected to bring a gift when visiting a newborn.’ I say, frantically tugging at the seat belt because he’s already started the car.
‘I know but you could have bought it a teddy bear or something.’
‘Well I did buy her a teddy bear, as well as a few other things and something for Amy.’
He drives on without a further response.
‘How long do you think we’ll be here?’ I ask.
‘Not long. Do you want to come back to mine after?’
‘Sure.’
We come to a stop outside his sister’s house and he gets out of the car, making his way to the door whilst I struggle alone with the gift basket.
‘By the way, my parents are inside,’ he says as I catch up with him at the doorstep.
‘What?!’ I’m not appropriately dressed. I completely dressed down today as I thought we were briefly stopping in to congratulate his sister who will almost definitely be in her pyjamas.
The door opens, with his mum on the other side. ‘Shaun!’ she embraces him and kisses him on the cheek. ‘Come in, come in, the baby is beautiful! Oh hi, Alexa, lovely to see you again.’
‘Lovely to see you again too, Mrs Abbott.’
‘Oh please, call me Gillian.’
I trail behind Shaun and Gillian with the gift basket to the room where Amy sits, not in pyjamas as I thought, but looking as polished as the first time I saw her. She cradles the baby in her arms.
‘Hey, sis, congratulations. Let’s have a look at her then.’ Shaun peers over the baby. ‘She looks just like Dad.’
Amy shoots him daggers, ‘Shut up, you. She’s beautiful.’
‘I’m only kidding. Anyway, what did you call her?’
‘Amelia,’ says Amy. She looks down at the baby and sighs blissfully. ‘Little Amelia Rose.’
‘It’s beautiful name. I’ve brought a few gifts for you and Amelia.’ I gently place the basket beside Amy, scared to startle the baby.
‘That’s so kind of you, thank you.’
‘Yeah, just a few things from us,’ lies Shaun, who smiles at me without shame.
‘Thanks, Shaun. It all looks so nice.’
We sit, with tea, and cake with pink icing and watch baby Amelia. Amy tells us all about what it’s really like giving birth, which was something that up until now I was blissfully unaware of. I had it down as a beautiful moment like it’s portrayed on television; an inconvenient passing of water followed by a few huffs and puffs before a baby appears. As it turns out, that’s not the case. A beautiful moment, it is not.
‘But it’s remarkable all the same,’ says Amy, ‘I wouldn’t take any of it back. Not the pain nor the stitches. It brought me Amelia.’
‘You’re a trooper, sis.’
‘Yeah, Amy, you’ve done so well. She’s lovely.’
She gets up and puts Amelia down in her Moses basket. ‘She’s asleep. Shall we go and talk in the kitchen? I don’t want her disturbed.’
Once we’re all in the kitchen, Shaun shuts the door and clears his throat. ‘Now that the baby talk is over, everyone, we have an announcement.’ He walks over to me, putting his arm around me.
‘Oh my God, you’re pregnant!’ says Gillian.
‘No, I’m not!’ I want to say, but instead the words won’t come. Paralysed with fear, I stare up at Shaun wide-eyed, looking for help. What is he doing?
‘No, it’s not that. Alexa’s moving in with me.’
Suddenly, Amy and Gillian are hugging me and congratulating me and ‘welcoming’ me to the family. I think I’m nodding and smiling, but I’m not certain. I’m also not certain I agreed to move in with him.
‘Well, that’s quite the surprise, Shaun. But a good one, you two are great together. I think this calls for another cup of tea.’ Gillian collects everyone’s cups. Just then, Amelia starts to cry.
‘Brilliant,’ sighs Amy, ‘excuse me.’ She makes her way to the other room.
‘Babies are so needy,’ jokes Shaun.
‘You have it all to come one day.’ Amy turns to me, ‘do you want kids, Alexa?’
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. ‘Yes…’ I begin, ‘maybe, I don’t know!’ What a question to ask. ‘One day, I suppose.’
She smiles, looking relieved. ‘Shaun has always wanted kids, haven’t you, Shaun?’
‘What? I guess so.’
‘He has,’ says Amy, coming back into the room. ‘He even told me I couldn’t use the name Lily.’
‘That was a long time ago.’ Shaun glares at his sister.
‘What about you, Alexa?’ she asks, ‘what names do you like?’
‘Oh I don’t know. Nothing too common I don’t think. No obvious celebrity names either. Kylie would never forgive me.’
‘Kylie?’
‘My friend. Well…’ No, better not get into that. Why did I even mention Kylie? It just came out. ‘She hates being named after a celebrity, that’s all.’
‘So, nothing too common and no obvious celebrity names. That’s a tough one. As long as it’s not too weird, like Apple or something.’
Everyone laughs.
‘It’s good enough for Chris and Gwyneth.’
‘Who?’ Gillian asks and then scoffs. ‘Oh, the Coldplay guy. Terrible band. I don’t know which is worse, the band or the name Apple.’
Everyone laughs again. I smile, aware that everyone’s attention is still on me. Help.
‘Don’t worry, Alexa, we’re getting ahead of ourselves anyway. Shaun has got to pop the question yet.’
