The Wrong Side of Twenty-Five, page 19
‘And on that overbearing note, we really have to go.’ Shaun gives me an apologetic look before saying his goodbyes. ‘It was nice seeing you, sis, and little Amelia.’ He hugs his sister and kisses the baby before leaving. I follow him, relieved. It was getting a bit claustrophobic.
The door shuts and Shaun lets out a sigh. ‘Jesus, I’m so sorry. My family can be a nightmare at times.’
‘That’s okay, they were fine.’
‘They weren’t, they were unbearable.’
‘It was a bit much,’ I admit. ‘The baby naming stuff made me a bit uncomfortable.’
‘Did it?’ he asks, but walks ahead of me to the car without waiting for my response. I follow him and we set off for his.
It’s been a good while and we still haven’t spoken to each other. I glance at him and find him watching the road, which is good, but there’s a look on his face that’s not so good. He looks tense, annoyed. I wonder if it’s something I’ve done or the encounter with his family.
As he opens the door of his apartment, I dare to break the silence, ‘What shall we order then for dinner?’
‘Oh anything,’ he says as he kicks off his shoes and goes into the living room, ‘just not pizza’.
‘Chinese?’
‘Yeah, whatever.’ He walks to switch the telly on, turning it over to the football and sitting down on the sofa.
This isn’t really how I imagined spending my Saturday night.
‘Or I could just go home?’ I offer.
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘Well, you just don’t really seem like you’re in the mood for company. I don’t mind going home.’
He looks at me properly, for the first time today. ‘No, stay. I’m sorry. Don’t go home. Besides, I want you to start thinking of this as your home.’ He takes my hands in his and looks at me again with his puppy dog eyes. I’m a sucker for that look.
I sit down next to him, ‘Only if we don’t have to watch football all night.’
He smiles, ‘Okay. Order a take-away, anything you want, and we’ll choose a film.’
‘Shaun…’
‘Yes?’
‘I like the name Lily.’
‘Oh yeah?’ He pulls me in, wrapping his arms around me.
‘Or maybe something a little less commonly used like Lola.’
‘Just not Apple.’
‘Nothing fruit-based.’
‘Agreed.’
Kylie
It’s 2am and I’m sneaking in my front door so as not to wake up Lucie. It’s something I’m not very good at, my late great grandma once described me as having ‘all the grace of an elephant’. But it’s so late that I have to try, not just for courtesy but she’ll kill me if I wake her. She might be seven stone wet through but Lucie has a wrath unrivalled when her solid eight-hour sleep is interrupted. I tip-toe in on tired feet, but as I pull my boots off and wriggle my freshly liberated toes, they feel a little better. The last hurdle is climbing the stairs to the finish line that is my bedroom door. Each step feels laborious but I make it and fall into bed. Finally, I can relax.
I need to get undressed and changed for bed, at least pull my jeans off. After a few minutes willing myself to move, I do, promising myself that the moment I’m done I can get back into bed. Finishing so late means I’m hungry but it’s not really an appropriate time to eat, or cook. Once again my stash of snacks comes in handy.
I munch a biscuit in the glow of my lamp and can hear every chew. It’s like everyone in the city is asleep except me. It’s that curious time of night, what’s it called? The witching hour? That mysterious time separating night and day. Actually for me, it’s when I feel most alert and I’ve always been a night owl, however, there’s nothing to do at 2am. I used to get home after working at the office in the evening and my night would consist of talking to Alexa on the phone, making dinner and winding down with some Netflix. But now my life is made up of different things. My job dominates my life, which is fine because I actually enjoy working now. But it’s times like these, when I’m not distracted with work, that I realise I wish I had someone to hear how my day went and to put their arm around me when I need support.
But there’s no way of meeting men. Harry has put me off picking men up in clubs and the dating app was a terrible waste of time. In fact, I lost more than time, I lost a little faith in humanity. Other than that, I don’t know how anyone would even come across potential dates. I can’t exactly date customers at work and I can’t date Oliver, partly because he’s out of my league and partly because he’s so annoying with his wry smile and his bizarre sense of humour and the fact he’s always right. He drives me crazy. Although right now, crazy would be better than utter boredom and loneliness. But no, I can’t message Oliver. But maybe…
Inspiration hits me. I finish my biscuit, pick up my phone and type out Are you awake?
Only just. What’s up? replies Jason.
Nothing. I’ve just got in from work. Feeling a little lonely. Over-thinking things.
What kind of things?
It feels embarrassing to admit. How I come home from work, to be alone.
It’s not so bad being alone. There’s less drama, and you don’t have to share your food. But if you want someone, I’ll be that someone, babe.
Goodnight, Jason.
But I don’t just want someone, anyone. I wish I did; life would be easier if he could fill this void. I put my phone on the bedside table and pull the duvet tight over me. He’s right that being alone means less drama and not having to share your food, but drama is passion and passion means you care, and sharing food is a great diet aid. Some things are just better done with someone by your side to do them with.
Alexa
The door knocks and I can tell from the knock itself that it’s Shaun.
‘Come in.’
The door opens and there he is, looking excited to see me. He walks slowly, clutching my laptop bag and carefully places it on my desk. I try not to laugh, but his level of respect for my laptop is as funny as it is endearing. ‘Is everything okay with it?’
‘This is one of the tidiest laptops I’ve seen,’ says Shaun sounding impressed. He sits down on the other side of my desk.
‘I thought so; I generally keep on top of it but I just wanted your expert opinion.’
‘Well, in my expert opinion, it’s perfect; like you.’
‘Can I get you a coffee?’
‘I have to be with a client in ten minutes.’
‘Okay, well that’s good actually because I’m really busy. I’ve been waiting on getting this laptop back.’ I take the laptop out of its bag and switch it on.
Shaun stands and leans over to kiss me, but as he does I let out a gasp of horror.
‘What’s up?!’
‘You’ve… changed everything.’ I try to push down the panic in my voice.
Shaun looks puzzled and reaches to see the screen, ‘I’ve just rearranged your desktop files so they look better. What’s the problem?’
‘You’ve changed the background.’
‘Well it was just an old one of you and that girl.’
‘Kylie.’
‘Yeah, Kylie. And I thought a photo of us would be better, no? But nothing’s really changed.’
‘Right, I suppose not.’ But everything has changed. A knot gathers in my stomach as Shaun’s face stares back at me, where Kylie’s once was.
‘Anyway, I’ve got to go, babe.’ He leans in again and kisses my cheek. I watch him leave and try to avoid looking at my laptop. I need a coffee.
‘Alexandra! Glad I’ve caught you,’ says Emma as I walk into the staff kitchen.
‘Oh?’ I ask, grabbing my mug from the cupboard and selecting cappuccino from the coffee machine. The machine moans and groans and I urge it to hurry up.
‘This is Louise, the one I was telling you about.’
Any mention of Louise is drawing a blank in my memory. When I turn and see Louise, I still have no idea who she is. ‘Oh, of course, hi, Louise.’
‘Hi, Alexandra. You’re John’s assistant, right?’
‘I am.’ I smile and will the coffee machine to work faster. I can smell the dreaded small-talk coming. When my coffee is good to go, I make a run for it. ‘Anyway, I was only here to—’
But Emma stops me in my tracks by standing in front of me. ‘So, like I told you before, Louise runs beauty parties and they’re amazing.’
‘That’s right,’ says Louise, ‘it’s just a little side job mostly because the freebies are excellent and also to get out of the house away from Richard and the baby and have a bit of “me” time. I come to your house, do demonstrations, give out samples, that kind of thing.’
‘It sounds brilliant, doesn’t it, Alexandra?’ gushes Emma.
‘It really does,’ although I’m very particular about my make-up, ‘but actually I was—’
‘So, I was saying to Louise you’d probably be up for a party at your place. Louise has spaces next month if you’re interested?’
‘Oh, well, it sounds really nice...’ I pause while I try to think of an acceptable way to turn them down.
‘Brilliant! Louise, when are you free?’
‘What I mean is, is it sounds really nice, but I don’t know where I’ll be next month.’
Emma frowns, ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well it’s just, I might be moving in with Shaun.’ Even after a week to digest the idea, I still feel uneasy about it, especially saying it out loud. The words feel reluctant to come out and I kind of resent Emma for making me have to say them.
She clutches my arm excitedly, ‘Oh my God! That’s amazing! Did he ask you? Is his place nice?’
‘Er yeah he did ask me and his place isn’t bad at all.’ I wriggle free from her grasp.
‘Oh, but you can make it better. You’ll be able to decorate. Is it a house? Does he own it?’
‘An apartment, but yes he does own it.’
‘Brilliant! The world’s your oyster! You’ll be able to totally transform it!’
‘I guess…’ I say, rubbing my shoulder and thinking about the possibilities. I never considered I’d be able to decorate an entire apartment.
‘Well, when you’re settled in we’ll organise a beauty party. You can send Shaun out for the night and tell him you’re having the girls over.’
‘I don’t really have any girl friends…’ I say, thinking out loud. ‘Oh! Except you, of course. And Priya,’ I carry on, worried I’ve offended Emma, ‘and possibly a few old university friends…’
‘Well, now you have Louise and, oh look, here comes Alice and Victoria. Ladies! Come and meet Alexandra she’s new on this floor. She’s having a beauty party next month, if you’re interested.’
I watch the door longingly as Emma tells Louise, Alice, Victoria and two other women I don’t recognise all about my weekend in Rome with Shaun.
‘Oh, Ryan hasn’t taken me on a long weekend in forever. It’s just not a priority when you’ve been married for this long.’
‘Yes well, it’s always on the cards, isn’t it? But then the car breaks down or the boiler packs in.’
‘How old are you, Alexandra?’
‘She’s twenty-five.’
‘How young! To be twenty-five again…’
‘Don’t be fooled, Michelle; Alexandra’s an old soul.’
‘Most twenty-five-year olds still act like teenagers these days!’
‘Not Alexandra.’
‘I always see girls in their mid-twenties coming home from nights out together, stumbling down the street in a state of undress. It’s appalling.’
‘Well, I hope they enjoy their fun while it lasts. They won’t be able to get away with crop tops and take-away forever. One day they’ll wake up and they’ll be thirty and overweight and all the good men will have been taken.’
‘At least you don’t have to worry about that, Alexandra,’ Emma says to me. I’m surprised I’m even a part of this conversation with how they’re all talking like I’m not here. Although I do wish I wasn’t. I continue to watch the doorway longingly.
‘Oh yeah,’ agrees Victoria, ‘you’ve already found your man. How lucky. You don’t need to dress up like that and go out on the town hoping some man will rub up against you.’
‘Nope. Now you can spend time with your man or just come out with us.’
The women talk around me, planning my future. I drink my coffee and admit defeat. This is my life now, and it’s fine, it’s fun even. But going out, getting drunk, dancing and stumbling home with a tray of cheesy chips was also fun. Will I never do that again? So much is changing. And another thing that’s changing is where I get my coffee from in future.
Kylie
‘But what about the proletariat?’
‘Exactly, anyone who has read The Communist Manifesto wouldn’t have any hesitation in agreeing.’
I’m at Zara’s place. She invited me to come to her ‘thing’ which at the time I thought was code for ‘I’m too cool to use the word party’ but now I realise she called it a thing because there’s not really a word for what this is. It’s not that I don’t like Zara, but we aren’t the same kind of people. Her kind of people like to stand around and have long discussions, which I do and I’ve lost many hours talking to Alexa about all kinds of things but none of those things were communism or gentrification. I suppose I could open my mind and try and join in, but whenever I have in the past it’s resulted in awkward silences or worse, laughter.
Then again, maybe an awkward silence would be worse than actual silence, which is what I’m getting from Jason as he sits next to me. I brought him along for company and support, but it turns out he’s good for neither so I’m counting the fairy lights tacked to the ceiling while I wait for time to pass. Fifty-two lights and thirty-minutes until I can leave. Fifty-three lights, twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds until I can leave…
‘I should have brought a guitar,’ says Jason.
Oh God, I don’t need to add strangled-cat music to this disaster of a night. ‘Maybe you should have.’
‘Do you want another drink?’
‘No, it’s between gin or craft beer and I don’t know which is worse but neither are good.’
‘Okay. I’m going to grab a drink. You okay here on your own?’
‘Sure.’ Rather, okay as I can be. It’d help if I was drunk, but gin tastes like detergent. Then again, I’d rather drink bleach than sit here much longer.
Jason comes back in the room. ‘Kylie,’ he says, ‘I’ve just met this amazing bunch and they’re off to another place. Are you coming?’
‘Where is it?’
‘No idea. Some place about twenty-minutes away. We’re all going to share a taxi.’
I groan, ‘I’m not going in a taxi to a strange place with people I’ve never met. Can’t we just stay here? We can go soon, and grab a pizza.’
‘Come on, it’ll be fun,’ he pleads. He looks so pitiful but I’m not going. It’s irresponsible. Besides, all I want to do is go home and get in some warm pyjamas. I’ll just have to hold out here on my own.
‘You go, have a good time.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. Go.’
‘Okay. See you around, babe,’ he says, dashing off without looking back. I watch him leave with indifference. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll be even better when I can finally leave, but until then… fifty-four lights, fifty-five lights, fifty – someone hovers by the door, looking at me. It’s Oliver. He beckons me over.
‘I didn’t know you’d be here.’ I try not to sound too pleased but I’m thrilled to see a familiar face.
‘Zara told me to pop over if I had the chance. So I did.’
‘When did you arrive?’
‘Just as your boyfriend was leaving.’
I feel confused, and then realise with horror he’s talking about Jason, ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
‘Did you break up? You don’t look happy.’
‘No, he never was my boyfriend. And I don’t look happy because I’m not.’
‘Is that because you wish he was your boyfriend?’
‘No. Can we stop talking about him now?’
‘Okay,’ he says as he walks to the kitchen. I follow him, annoyed by the interrogation but still grateful that he’s here. He begins to go through Zara’s cupboards and I stand and watch and try not to check out how great he looks in those jeans.
‘Are you sure you should be doing that?’
‘I’m just looking for something, she won’t mind. Also, she won’t know.’
‘What are you looking for?’
‘Something to drink.’
‘There’s gin and craft beer over there.’
‘I know that. I’m looking for something to drink that isn’t foul.’
‘Hallelujah!’
‘What’s your poison?’
‘I’d kill for a Cheeky Vimto.’
‘Jesus, Kylie, really?’
‘Yes. It’s delicious and makes me feel eighteen again.’
‘Who would want to be eighteen again? Well, I’ve found some port but I can’t see there being any Blue Wkd in the fridge.’
‘You can’t go in her fridge!’ I tell him as he does exactly that.
‘Well, how can we have a Bourbon and Coke without the Coke?’ he asks, pulling a bottle out of the fridge with a grin. I watch him pour Bourbon into two glasses and top them up with Coke. He pushes one glass my way. ‘It’s not a Cheeky Vimto, but it’ll sort all of your problems.’
‘Why? Is it a time machine?’ I knock it back, expecting the worst but discover it’s not so bad, and has a sweet aftertaste that lingers. He pours another round and sits down next to me. He smells of men’s fragrance, musky but clean and the air around us smells of alcohol. Every time I’m alone with Oliver, I become very aware of my senses. Something about him being in close proximity makes me feel uncomfortable, but I can’t put my finger on why and I don’t want him to leave. I focus on my glass, circling its rim with my finger.
‘So, what’s up?’ he asks.
