Journey to the Centre of Myself (10 page)

BOOK: Journey to the Centre of Myself
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But do you want that?

God, no. I run back to the sofa and stick the knife in it. It doesn’t slice through the leather as easy as I expected, but I hack and hack until the blade breaks off in the sofa. Then I push it through to the dining room where I don’t have to face it and turn my sofa around so it now faces the television.

Now what?

I decide I’m going to work. I can’t miss going, they might get rid of me after the other day and the last thing I can afford right now is to not have any wages. The tea-towel has soothed my eyes somewhat and I only have today to suffer through and then it’s the weekend.

I put on a thick layer of concealer, lots of eye makeup and let my hair fall over my face at one side. It makes me think of Will as he’s always pushing it behind my ears. Now it’ll serve as a mask to hide behind.

I wonder if Will will return while I’m out. He might come to collect his belongings. I hope when I return there is no trace he ever existed.

It strikes me as ironic that almost a week to the day I flirted with another man, I find out mine was shagging another woman.

 

‘Don’t ask.’

Jo looks at me with a horrified expression. She remains quiet.

Mirelle is another story. ‘What the hell happened to you?’

‘She doesn’t want to talk about it,’ says Jo.

‘Bugger off, you can’t come in here in this state and not tell us what’s going on.’ She turns to Jo. ‘What if someone’s tried to mug her or something and she’s in shock?’

‘I’ve not been mugged. That I could deal with. I need to focus on work right now. ’

Mirelle goes quiet for what must be the first time in her entire life.

It’s lunchtime before I manage to tell them. ‘Will’s been having an affair.’

Jo splutters some of her lunch onto the table. ‘Excuse me?’

‘He’s got his best friend’s wife pregnant.’

‘No way,’ adds Mirelle. She pushes her seat next to mine and puts her arm around me. ‘How the hell did you find that out?’

‘They told me last night, over dinner.’

‘Bear with me a moment,’ says Mirelle and she leaves the office. I hear her ask Andi if she can pop out to fetch a box of tea bags.

I go back to typing.

She returns ten minutes later.

‘Why’d you fetch tea bags when we already have tea?’

‘I didn’t you muppet.’ She pulls three miniature vodkas out of her handbag.

‘What?’

‘Shhh, it’s needed.’ She passes us one each. ‘Straight down your necks and follow with a sip of coffee.’

We drink up. We chat further about my predicament. I feel a better for their support.

At five to five I put on my coat.

‘Hey,’ says Mirelle. ‘I know you probably don’t feel up to it, but I’m free tomorrow night if you want to go somewhere?’

‘Don’t you have other plans?’

‘Saturdays are family night.’ She shrugs. ‘I see my friends. Thought you might want to tag along.’

‘I dunno. I need time to think.’ Then I imagine a long weekend at home.

‘No, I will flipping well come. I’m not sitting in like a sad loser.’

‘Yeah, that’s my girl,’ says Mirelle.

‘In fact, do you know what?’ I say as an idea blooms in my mind.

‘Yeah?’

‘I
am
going to do your challenge. Sod it. Why should I bother if someone else is faithful or not?’

Mirelle frowns. ‘I don’t know, Amber. Are you sure about this?’

I suck on my bottom lip. Am I? Screw it. ‘I need something to keep me occupied.’

She leans against the desk. ‘Was he married then, Mr Friday night?’

‘He wore a band on the relevant finger, I’m sure.’ I make a note to ask him by text. I’m only interested if he’s married. ‘So what are the categories?’

‘Oooh, you can do as many of them as you like now,’ she says. ‘That’ll serve Will right. Let him see you don’t need him.’

‘Dead right.’

‘Okay then,’ she counts them out on her fingers.

She points to the phone in my hand.

‘One - Message.

Two - Flirt.

Three - Kiss.

Four -First Base.

Hmmm, I’ll name the others if you get there cos you know what begins with F like five.’

I laugh. ‘You’re on,’ I say.

The challenge is set.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Amber

 

The beat of the base booms through my body. I run my hands through my hair and down my dress and sway to Nicki Minaj
Va Va Voom
. Every song seems to carry lyrics about giving people one last chance; it’s just been Maroon 5’s
One More Night
. We’re in the middle of the bar; I’ve been drunk since lunchtime, after I woke up at home and figured who was going to stop me having vodka for breakfast?

Mirelle is giving doe eyes to any bloke within bar distance. I don’t think we’ve even bought a drink yet. She’s dressed in a colour pop, fuchsia pink, bandage dress and silver peep-toe sandals. I couldn’t hope to compete. I’ve accentuated my best features, my bosoms, in a black jersey wrap dress. I’m only a couple of inches shorter than Mirelle, but I’m curvier; Jessica Rabbit to her Carnival Queen.

Mirelle comes up and bumps and grinds against me, she’s a hoot. The poor men of this bar, they are in so much trouble. Women glare at us in undisguised fury, downing their drinks and taking their men out of harm’s way.

I grab a nearby guy by his tie and draw him in. He dances in between us, his face triumphant as his friends watch on in envy. I push his tie under my nose, inhaling the scent of aftershave like it’s the hottest pheromones. Then I push him back to them and they laugh. He tries to come back, but we turn away, freeze him out.

I pass Mirelle my phone. ‘Here, take my picture.’ She acquiesces and passes it back. I am lucky. The photo makes me appear hot and in my element. ‘I’m off to the loo,’ I shout, pointing in the direction of the toilets.

She waves me off, smiling at another of the guys in the nearby group and beckoning him with her finger, ‘Come here.’

I turn around and she’s dancing with him.

In the loos, I upload the photo to my Facebook page and hope Will sees it. I hope he realises what he’s missing out on while knee deep in vomiting lovers.

Someone hammers on the door, ‘Hurry up in there.’

I put my feet up against the wall, they can do one.

I scroll through my messages and find Adrian’s. I type ‘Green for go’ and send it.

I wait for what must be five minutes but seems like an hour. No response.

I head back to the bar.

 

‘This is Kevin and his mate Shaun,’ says Mirelle. Shaun is about five feet three, pot-bellied and balding. Of course, his mate Kevin is a walking sex God. Typical. Mirelle’s eyes fasten on mine and I know the next part of my night is sealed. She’s not giving up Adonis.

Luckily Shaun can dance.

Sometime later Mirelle comes up and tells me she’s leaving with the Adonis.

‘What am I supposed to do?’ I whine.

‘Him?’ she points at Shaun.

I make a retching sound. ‘You must be joking.’

‘Well you need to do something with him or Kev won’t come home with me.’

‘You’re a slut, you know?’

‘You’re so complimentary when you’re drunk, do you have lots of friends?’

‘Just fuck off and abandon me like everyone else.’

‘Oh grow up, Amber.’ Mirelle flicks her hair, grabs Kevin’s arm and stalks off.

Shaun asks me if I want another drink.

I say yes and then run back into the toilets.

I check my phone, still nothing, but I note it’s now eleven thirty-eight pm. I get a pen out of my bag and write on the back of the door, ‘Mirelle sucks dick,’ then slump to the floor laughing. After a couple of minutes, I burst into tears. The room spins and I start to throw up.

Perhaps life with Sam isn’t as different for Will after all.

 

I wash my face in the sink. My mascara isn’t waterproof and drags down my face. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is wet at the side and I have a streak of vomit down my dress. I sway and have to clutch the counter top, jeez everything is spinning. I make my way out of the bathroom and sit on the floor next to the toilets.

I see Shaun standing alone, drinking. As he looks around the bar, he spots me and comes rushing over.

‘God, are you okay? I thought you’d gone home.’

‘Nah, just felt like sitting on the floor.’

‘Oh dear, let’s get you home.’

‘I don’t want to go.’ I fling my arms around him. ‘Take me to yours.’ He grimaces as the smell of vomit hits his nose.

‘Nope, definitely your home,’ he says, ‘and I know I’m God’s gift to women, but you’re going to have to keep your hands off me.’

I manage to tell the taxi driver where I live. As we pull up outside my home, Shaun asks him to wait while he helps me into the house.

‘No, don’t leave me,’ I say.

‘I’m not staying, but I’ll just make sure you’re okay,’ he says. However, he pays the driver and sends the taxi away.

It takes me a few minutes to get in the house as I keep missing the key in the lock, stabbing around the doorframe like a woodpecker. Shaun takes the key and lets us in. Thankfully I didn’t bother setting the house alarm or the siren would have woken the entire street by the time I’d located the right code. I kick my shoes off in the doorway and head in the direction of my sofa. Shaun steadies me, stacks the cushions up and helps me sit down.

‘S’all Will’s fault,’ I say. ‘Bastard.’

Shaun catches sight of the mutilated sofa and looks at me with wide eyes.

‘Err, why is there a murdered sofa in there?’

I don’t remember whether I answered him.

 

I wake up to bright winter sunshine streaming through the front window.

I clutch my head. ‘Oh my good God above, what is that smell?’

I realise it’s me.

I drag myself up the stairs, turn on the shower and climb in fully dressed. I sit under the stream of the shower for a long, long time.

Then I crawl into bed.

Curtains drawn, I sleep the day away.

It's four p.m. before I come downstairs. The living room smells fusty. I open the windows and turn the heating up high. I’m in a nightshirt and a dressing gown and I’ve put on some thick sports socks to keep my feet warm. I pad into the kitchen, put a pizza in the oven and head back into the living room. There’s a note on the fireplace. I wander over and pick it up.

‘Hope you feel better when you wake up. Shaun.’

Who the hell is Shaun?

I panic and phone Mirelle.

‘Hmm, have you phoned to apologise?’

The phone in one hand, I place the other over my eyes.

‘What did I do?’

‘You called me a slut.’

‘I’m so sorry. I don’t remember the last part of the evening. I just remember dancing.’

‘Oh well, I was acting like one anyway, though very enjoyable it was too.’

‘You’re a slut? I came home with someone, he left me a note and I don’t even remember,’ I groan.

‘Oh, don’t worry. Shaun just made sure you got home in one piece. He rang Kev when he left.’

‘You know him?’

‘Oh my God, Amber. Seriously… you don’t remember? You spent half the night talking to him. I went home with his mate.’

I shake my head. Oblivious to the fact Mirelle can’t see me.

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Short, troll like?’

‘Nope.’

‘Dear God, how much did you drink?’

‘I’ve no idea, just that I started about eleven a.m. yesterday and I’m never drinking again.’

‘Yeah, I’ll bet.’

But she’s wrong. I’ve really scared myself being so out of control.

‘Well, anyway, I’ve gotta roll. Things to do and all that. Ambs, I’ll see you at work tomorrow and we can start on your challenge.’

‘I’m not sure about that now, to be honest.’

‘Oh, you’re just hungover. Get plenty of coffee and lots to eat and I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘All right,’ I reply and hang up.

 

I’m sitting at the dining table eating pizza when the doorbell rings.

I lumber over to open it. In front of me is a short guy, maybe two inches or so smaller than I am, with dark receding hair and brown eyes.

‘Yeah?’

‘Oh dear, I wondered if popping round was a good idea. Oh well, I can see you’re alive.’

It twigs. ‘Shaun, right?’

‘Err, yes.’

‘Come in. Sorry, a lot of last night’s hazy. I think I owe you a thank you.’

He points through the doorway. ‘Are you sure? I can go now I know you’re okay.’

BOOK: Journey to the Centre of Myself
8.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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