Stand Up Guy, page 3
‘And now we’re at the part where you tell me why you were so down earlier.’ I raise my eyebrows at him expectantly. ‘You’ve explained why you bit my head off, but there’s clearly a considerable chunk of this story still missing.’
‘Because that’s the bit that’s harder to share.’
The lighter mood we’ve enjoyed is chased away by a heavy sigh and a hardening of Shep’s expression. He goes quiet and stares down into his pint like before, which I’m now realising must be his way of trying to escape his current reality. Rather than giving him another prod, I wait patiently for him to continue – not for fear that he’ll turn on me again, but out of respect for him, and the fact that whatever this is, it’s difficult for him to face.
‘I’m broke,’ he says eventually.
‘Ah.’ My mouth pinches sympathetically. ‘How bad is it?’
‘Bad enough that my dream is over. I’m having to cancel my shows and go home. Didn’t even get close to a full week of performances, which is such a kick in the teeth, because the ones I did were actually really well received. I wasn’t getting many people through the door – there are just so many shows to choose from – but word of mouth could have changed that.’
He produces a flyer from his pocket and hands it to me. Unfolding it, I see that it has his name on it and the show itself is called Caught In The Act.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, what changed? I mean, you obviously came here thinking you could do the full month.’
Shep furrows his brow, his expression pained. ‘That’s a matter of interpretation. I certainly came here hoping I could do it. I managed to get accommodation for next to nothing. However, my hosts – through no fault of their own – have had to end my arrangement with them. They’ve had a real harrowing family tragedy.’
‘Oh, that’s awful.’ I put my hand to my mouth with great sadness for these people whom I don’t even know.
‘It is.’ He nods. ‘I could tell they felt terrible about asking me to leave, but it was the right thing to do. They need their space.’
‘Of course. But it obviously means you have nowhere to stay, and if you’re broke, you’re not going to be able to pay for accommodation. I assume you don’t get much by way of donations through your free shows.’
‘Even if I could afford something cheap, I’d be lucky to find a cheap room anywhere in the city at this time of year.’
‘And you have no one you can ask for some financial help?’
‘That’s the best bit.’ Shep looks up from his pint grimly. ‘My family could help me, but they won’t. I come from a family of medics. My brother and sister followed the path to righteousness and got their MDs, whereas I apparently lost my way. They’d happily shell out if I suddenly announced I wanted to do a medical degree, but for this, not a chance. They take every opportunity they can find to ridicule my choice of career and make digs at my lack of success. I’m meant to be the funny guy, but I’m the family joke.’
‘Shep, I’m so sorry.’ I reach out and touch him gently on the arm. ‘That’s really rough. I don’t understand why some people have to be so cruel, especially to their own flesh and blood.’
‘Thanks, I appreciate it. That’s why I came after you. With everything that’s happened, I couldn’t allow my last memory of this experience to be upsetting someone who was just trying to be nice. That’s not the person I am. I’m not like my family. It’s gonna be a right bundle of laughs going home with my tail between my legs.’ Shep drinks the last mouthful of his beer glumly.
‘I can imagine.’ I grimace, wishing there was something I could do to help. ‘Can I get you another pint? I know it’s not the answer in these situations, but I’d like to reciprocate, especially as you’ve been so kind as to buy me a drink when you’re skint. I also feel guilty that I made you buy me the most expensive one here.’
‘Not quite. Last girl I offered to buy a drink for asked for a bottle of prosecco and a straw.’
‘What?’ My mouth falls open in astonishment.
‘I’m kidding.’ He gives a weak smile and I chuckle at having been caught out. ‘You don’t owe me anything, Lea. I’m not destitute. I just can’t afford to stay in the city, and having your company right now means it’s a tenner well spent.’
‘That makes me feel a little better, but unless you think having another pint will do you more harm than good, I’d still like to buy you one. Please?’
‘Go for it.’ Shep gives an easy wave of his hand. ‘It’s not like I’m in a rush to get to the airport.’
‘You’re leaving tonight?’ I feel an unexpected rush of disappointment. ‘Where’s all your stuff?’
‘In a luggage locker at Waverley Station. I’m on a late flight, so I thought I’d come up here to drown my sorrows—’
‘And the beer fog would make leaving less painful.’
‘Got it in one.’ Shep gives a sheepish grin. ‘Clever one, you are. Makes sense you’re an academic.’
‘It was hardly a Mensa puzzle.’ I rummage in my bag for my purse then head for the bar.
Relaying my order to the guy who’s serving, my mind ticks over what Shep’s just told me. What a crappy situation to be in. And what rubbish parents he has, unwilling to support him with his dreams. They might not like the path he’s chosen, but to ridicule him for it, that’s another thing altogether. Glancing across at him, I can see how he’s already regressed to the same stance and expression from when I first spotted him, rubbing his face in that ‘stressy’ way that’s reserved for only the biggest and most painful of life’s dilemmas. I’m well aware that it won’t just be returning home that Shep’s dreading; he’ll probably face interrogations about what’s next for him and be pushed even harder towards getting a ‘real job’.
Turning back to pay the barman for the drinks, I’m more grateful than ever for the parents I have. They can be a bit overprotective and stifling at times, but I know they would support me with anything I wanted to do in life. Even after they divorced – reasonably amicably, thankfully – they remained fully aligned on one thing: my safety, wellbeing and career dreams came first. Shep deserves that same support. His parents could bail him out and help him achieve his dream, but they won’t – and probably purely because they want to be right.
Well, if they won’t help him, I will, a voice in my head unexpectedly pipes up.
‘What?’ I accidently vocalise my response to this.
‘Were you speaking to me?’ The barman, who had gone to chat to a colleague, makes his way back across to me. ‘Is everything OK with your drinks?’
‘Eh, yeah, sorry.’ I bite my lip in embarrassment and pick up the two plastic glasses he’s served me. ‘I was… talking to myself.’
‘Right.’ He gives me an odd look. ‘Well, enjoy your drinks.’
Glancing back across at Shep, who’s still lost in his thoughts, I set the drinks down on the bar for a moment to give myself space to think.
It’s not the worst idea in the world, is it? Helping Shep out. He seems like a decent guy, and I’ve got a spare room. I’ve also seen the flyer for his show, so unless he’s made all this up and used some random comedian’s leaflet, he must be genuine. Plus, he didn’t seek me out initially – I approached him and he palmed me off. Would a conman do that? OK, possibly. How would I know? But Shep seems like the real deal. If he’s not, then he’s a bloody good actor and he should consider the big screen as an alternative career path.
Anyway, the point is, I can do some good here. I can give this guy a chance at his big break, and in the process, it would mean I’d have some company for a few weeks. It would certainly be a welcome change not to spend every waking hour outside of work on my own. Not that that’s why I’m doing it. Obviously. I’ve tried having flatmates to fill that gap in my life and it’s never ended well, but this is just temporary. It’s for Shep. And it’s the right thing to do.
My mind made up, I pick up our drinks and head back across to our table.
Chapter 5
Handing a grateful Shep his pint, I plonk my own G&T on the table and look at him earnestly.
‘I have an idea.’
‘An idea about what?’ He tips his glass in my direction, which I interpret as a combined ‘cheers and thanks’.
‘I have an idea that could solve your problem.’
‘Of being broke?’ He looks immediately sceptical. ‘Don’t tell me… you’re a psychic and you’ve had a vision about tonight’s lottery numbers.’
I frown. ‘No.’
‘You’re secretly a gangster and you’re gonna hold my folks at gunpoint until they cough up?’
‘That’s ridiculously unrealistic and over the top.’
‘But the lottery one was perfectly believable?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Interesting where you draw the line.’
‘Ha ha, funny man.’ I stick my tongue out at him. ‘Good to see your sense of humour isn’t completely shot by all this, but how about you shut up and listen?’
‘Sorry. I won’t say another word.’
‘Thank you. I have a proposition for you.’
‘Now it’s getting interesting.’ His eyes widen and he snickers. ‘Yes, I will sleep with you for money. I’m that desperate.’
‘Seriously?’ I eyeball him. ‘This isn’t some Indecent Proposal moment, and what happened to not saying another word? You’re making me question my judgement here.’
‘Again, sorry. Keeping quiet at key moments has never been my strong point.’
‘Well, you must be a delight in bed.’
‘Ha! Good one. Maybe I should have you write some material for me.’ He clocks the look I’m giving him. ‘But for now, I’ll just shut up.’
‘Wise choice. OK, so my proposition is this: I have a flat with a spare room just a five minute walk from here. Why don’t you come and stay with me, so you can do your festival shows and have your shot at that big break you’re seeking?’
Shep looks stunned. ‘Are you for real?’
‘Why not?’ I shrug. ‘I have the space and you need a temporary home. I can be your new festival host.’
‘But… you don’t know me… and you don’t know you’re safe with me. I could be some crazed lunatic who made up this sob story to prey on a vulnerable woman.’
‘Don’t you be getting all sexist now.’ I tut at him.
‘Ah, shit, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘No, I mean I could be some crazed lunatic who preys on vulnerable guys. Is that not what you basically accused me of before? For all you know, you might not be safe with me.’ I waggle my eyebrows, casting him a mischievous grin.
He blanches, and at first, I can’t tell whether this is a genuine reaction to my bolshiness, or him playing along with my jokey insinuation that I might be the serial killer out of the two of us.
‘Holy shit, I’ve met my match,’ he pretty much announces to the whole bar, then lowers his voice when he notices people in the vicinity looking at us curiously. ‘You did say you work in a lab. You could easily chop me up and liquify me, and no one would be any the wiser.’
‘Exactly.’ My eyes glint wickedly. ‘So, shall we discuss whether you want to take your chances at mine for the next three or so weeks?’
‘Listen, there’s nothing to talk about. If you’re absolutely sure about this offer, I’m gonna bite your bloody hand off.’
‘Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.’ I sip at my G&T casually. ‘Anyway, you’ll be kind of doing me a favour, so it’s win-win.’
‘How’s that?’ Shep’s expression turns to one of interest as it dawns on me what I’ve let slip. I’ve clearly had too many drinks.
‘How’s what?’ I go for ignorance to try and gloss over my faux pas.
‘How will I be helping you out?’
‘Did I say that?’ I’m suddenly very interested in my surroundings.
‘You did, and now you’re acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t you gaslight me, Lea. That’s no way to treat a roomie.’
I snort. ‘You’ve been my roomie for all of ninety seconds. I’ve had a longer relationship with a packet of crisps. Plus, that special status will not be awarded until your luggage is in my spare room.’
‘Is that right? Well, in that case, I expect a ceremony, flag raising, drinks reception… the full shebang.’
Shep attempts to make eye contact with me, but I avoid him, knowing full well that he’s trying to wear me down.
‘Lea, Lea, Lea,’ he coaxes me, turning serious. ‘You’ve done an incredibly generous thing for me, and you have no idea how grateful I am. There’s obviously something going on with you as well, so why not let me help you.’
I chew my lip apprehensively. Shep is such a character. He’s probably someone with scores of mates, who’s never short of someone to enjoy a night out with, and he likely wouldn’t understand my predicament. Having made this positive connection with him after our rocky start, I don’t want to risk putting him off again, because I’m now really looking forward to having him as a temporary roommate. He might be desperate for somewhere to stay, but that could quickly change – especially if he comes to the conclusion that he was right about me in the first place.
‘Come on.’ He gives me a friendly nudge. ‘Whatever it is, you can tell me and I’ll never breathe a word of it. You’ve basically saved my arse, so I’m forever indebted to you now. What’s going on with you?’
‘OK…’ I take a deep breath, hesitating before I start to share. ‘My day was shit because I found out through Instagram that the guy I’ve been seeing is moving to Australia.’
‘That’s harsh. What a dick.’
‘That’s what I thought. Told him as much, as well. We’d been seeing each other for about six weeks, which I know isn’t long, but I honestly thought it was going somewhere – he even said stuff to make me think that way, I didn’t just dream it up in my head. Turns out he was using me the whole time.’
‘I’m sorry, Lea.’ With our roles having reversed, it’s now Shep’s turn to offer the sympathy. ‘Some people can be right arseholes when it comes to sex and relationships. So, is that how I’m helping you out? By taking your mind off him?’
‘Eh… yeah, that’s it.’ I jump on the out he’s handed me. ‘We were meant to have a date tonight. I couldn’t bear sitting in by myself, knowing he’d be out celebrating with his rugby mates, so—’
‘That’s total crap,’ Shep interrupts me. ‘You think I didn’t spot that junction to easy street you just veered off at?’
‘What are you talking about?’ I do my best to look innocent, but I can feel my face flush.
‘One thing you clearly don’t realise, Lea, is that to be a comedian, you need to pay close attention to people. You have to master the art of reading them, so you can rib them at the right moments and spot when to back the hell off.’
‘Nothing gets past you, does it?’ I grumble.
‘No, it doesn’t. So, you may as well tell me what’s really going on. Warts and all.’
With his appraising eyes on me, I feel way too exposed. I don’t want to have to watch as he goes through the reactions of disbelief, then pity, then becoming freaked out as he inevitably lands on the assumption that he’s been recruited to be my ‘friend’. He’ll be landing back on ‘weird loner chick’ before we’ve even finished our drinks.
‘Do you not need to go and get your stuff from the station?’ I make one last desperate attempt at a diversion. ‘And what about your show? Do you not need to let the Fringe organisers know it’s back on?’
‘Nice try.’ Shep shoots me a look and sinks the last of his pint. ‘I haven’t cancelled it yet – couldn’t bring myself to do it – and this is the one night of the week it doesn’t run. I was gonna ring the Fringe office tomorrow morning to let them know.’
‘Denial was in full swing, then.’
‘Something like that. Anyway, I can tell that whatever this is, it’s too difficult for you to share, so I’m gonna back the hell off. How about you give me your address and I’ll go get my stuff, then meet you back at yours? If I walk there and grab a taxi back, I should be with you in about an hour, say around nine p.m.?’
Relief washes over me as it becomes clear I’m off the hook – at least for now. ‘Sounds like a plan. I’ll go get your room ready.’
* * *
By nine p.m., I’ve made up my spare room and I’m lounging on the sofa watching Friends while waiting for Shep to appear. Thanks to my earlier cleaning spree, the flat is immaculate, so I haven’t had to do much in preparation for his arrival – and thanks to Paul being a total wanker, I can even offer Shep a decent breakfast in the morning.
Although it feels a little sad to think it ‘out loud’, I’m really looking forward to having Shep here. He seems like great fun and we appear to have hit it off right away. Not in a romantic sense, obviously. He’s definitely not my type, which is a good thing, because that kind of ‘hitting it off’ could get messy quickly with a temporary live-in arrangement in the mix. It will just be so nice to have someone around to chat to – and even better that it’s someone I think I’ll get on well with.
My previous failed attempts at having flatmates haunt me to this day. One turned out to be a creep who regularly wandered around in a towel, flexing his abs and making suggestive remarks. Another would have the noisiest sex I’ve ever heard. I swear she sounded like a piglet having its tail cut off very slowly with a pair of scissors. Then the last one – before I finally admitted to myself it was not a good idea to live with strangers – would bring random drunk folk he met at the pub back for late-night parties. Each time it was a complete mare trying to get rid of them, and somehow, I was left feeling like the bad one. All because it’s my flat and I had to ask them to leave – it’s not like I had the option to go myself.
It’s taking longer than I would have expected for Shep to walk down to Waverley and get a taxi back to mine, as per his plan. So much so that I start to wonder if he’s even going to turn up. As it gets close to two hours since we parted ways, I become immune to the jokes of New York’s funniest friendship group and find myself increasingly fidgety. Getting up from the sofa, I go to the window and look down to the street, but apart from an elderly man walking a dog and a group of boisterous teenagers noisily making their way along the road, there’s no one around.
