Read The Debt & the Doormat Online

Authors: Laura Barnard

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #Romance

The Debt & the Doormat (28 page)

BOOK: The Debt & the Doormat
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‘Um...yeah.  It's a bit sore.’  I pull my hand closer to me.  It does actually look pretty rough, tiny scratches all over it from climbing the tree.

‘Hurt from climbing trees is it?’ he asks, smiling warmly as he locks his eyes with mine.

‘Y...yeah,’ I slur, drunk from his eyes.

I’m going to kill Izzy.  How many embarrassing details did she tell him?

‘Well, here we are.’ 

He pulls up outside a small, but perfect bungalow painted a welcoming yellow.  It’s got hanging baskets full of bright flowers everywhere and has such a perfect front lawn that I wonder if she cuts it herself with nail scissors.  This is clearly a woman that likes perfection.  Not someone to welcome a gremlin in pink fluffy slippers. 

He rushes around to open my door for me and I step out, my stomach contracting with nerves.  Suddenly my ankle is not the only thing I’m worried about. 

‘Don't worry, you’ll be fine,’ he says, smiling at me, his eyes warm.

He puts Toffee onto the ground and offers me his hand.  ‘Come on.’

I give in and take it, trying desperately not to react this time.  I let him drag me, limping, towards the house, the warmth from his hand making me feel woozy.  I’m already dreading when he’s going to let go. 

We walk to the old fashioned front door, with frosted glass and an old knocker with a lion’s head.  He knocks just as I notice some balloons tied to a hanging basket.

‘Is it somebody’s birthday?’ I enquire.

At his comical expression I feel the blood draining from my face.

‘Yep – she’s eighty today.’

‘What?’

But it's too late.  The door swings open and an old man smiles at us. 

‘Hey Teddy,’ Ryan smiles.

‘Hello Ryan, I haven’t seen you in a while!  Come through, the party’s still going.  Oh and is this your girlfriend?’ he asks smiling warmly at me.

‘No, just a friend,’ he says, smiling arrogantly. 

I smile politely but remove it when I see Teddy notice my erect nipples.  Why couldn’t I at least have a bra on?  Ryan turns to laugh silently at me the minute Teddy’s back is turned, enjoying my misery.

We follow him into the back of the house where there is an open plan kitchen leading onto a conservatory.  It's filled with old people drinking sherry as Billy Holiday plays on the stereo. 

I don't need to be introduced to Ryan’s Grandma to know which one she is.  I can tell straight away.  Through the crowds I notice a chubby round faced lady with the same brown curly hair and big brown eyes that he has.  She’s quite beautiful for eighty, with only a few laughter lines on her face.  She also looks like the kind of person who doesn’t suffer fools gladly.  And today I am a fool.  Ryan has clearly brought me for the entertainment.

‘Ryan, sweetheart!’  She rushes over, embracing him in a tight hung.

‘Ok Grams, I only saw you this morning,’ he laughs pulling himself away like a moody teenager.

‘Oh, I know, but I’m always happy to see my favourite Grandson.  And is this Poppy?’ she asks, smiling warmly at me.

Has he talked about me before now?

‘Hi.’  I lift my hand and awkwardly wave to her.  It feels too formal to shake her hand, but now I just feel foolish.

She grabs both my hands, her palms like silk, and steps back to have a good look at me.  Paranoia sweeps over me as I notice her perfectly set hair and gold bracelets.  I turn to stare at Ryan, a little discomfited at being on display and he looks away, his cheeks seeming a bit flushed too.  I don't think I’ve ever seen him embarrassed. 

‘Happy birthday,’ I blurt out.  ‘And sorry for the way I look.  I didn’t know I was coming here,’ I add, disgraced by my outfit.

‘You look lovely dear.  Nothing worse than when a girl slaps too much paint on her face.  You have natural beauty.’

I blush and instantly warm to her. 

‘And I hear you saved my dog today?  Come on, I’ll get you a sherry.  Oh and I love your slippers.’

*                            *                            *

 

 

Two hours later and I’ve been introduced to all of her friends, each asking if I’m Ryan’s girlfriend.  We’ve talked old films, music, everything!  Plus she’s made me a cup of tea in a perfect china tea cup with roses down the side of it.  I honestly feel closer to this woman in the last two hours than I do to my own mother.  She’s the down to earth mum I always wanted, not the judgemental, trophy mother that I got.  She’s even insisted on wrapping my swollen foot up in a bandage and making me several cups of tea, worried I’ll get a cold from being out in the rain.

‘Oh Ryan, I love this song.  Dance with Poppy, will you?’ she says, swaying along to the tune.

‘Grams, she might not want to dance,’ he grimaces. 

‘Well, you’ll never know until you ask her,’ she smiles encouragingly.

He sighs and rolls his eyes.  He turns to me, raising his eyebrows.

‘May I have the pleasure of this dance?’ he asks, bowing in front of me playfully.

I smile at him, then at his Grandma (who insists I also call her Grams).  I take his hand to be led onto the dance floor, where a few other old couples have started dancing too.

He takes my right hand into a formal dance pose and puts his other hand round my waist.  He’s even taller when we’re this close and my palms tingle from his touch. 

‘You know I can't dance properly to music like this.  Especially with my foot.’

‘Don't worry, we can just sway,’ he says reassuringly. 

He takes my hands and wraps them round his neck, my shaking hands trying to stay still.  He starts swaying, his hands generating heat on my waist.  It sends tingles of pleasure down my spine and I just want to kidnap him, tie him up and force him to marry me. 

‘Your Grandma’s lovely,’ I say smiling over at her as she stares at us.

‘Yeah, and she loves you.’  He looks down at me from under his lashes, his face close.  The desperate urge for me to close the little distance between us is overpowering.  To grab him and burrow my head deep in his chest.

‘I’m sure she’s like that with everyone you bring here.’  I have to remind myself that I’m not special.  That we’re just friends.

‘Yeah,’ he sighs.  ‘She probably likes you a bit more than the elephant trainer but a bit less than the brain surgeon.  She
really
thought she was special.’

‘That's good to know,’ I joke back.

The song finishes and he stops dancing, pulling back from me.  The loneliness from the distance over shadows me immediately.  As if he knows, he continues to hold my hand, leading me back to sit with his Grandma.  Once we’re seated, it eventually breaks off. 

‘Well, we’d better be going Grams.’

She grabs him and pulls him into a tight embrace.  ‘Love you sweetheart.’

‘Love you too.’

He goes off to say goodbye to everyone else and his Grandma turns back to me.

‘Thanks so much for having me,’ I say politely. 

‘Thank you for coming dear.  It’s so nice to see Ryan with someone whose company he enjoys.’

‘Well, yeah...he’s a good friend.’

That's all he’ll ever be.

‘Yes, for now.’  She grins mischievously at me.

‘Sorry, but do you know something I don't?’ I ask, praying desperately that I don't snort with laughter.

‘All I know is that I know my Grandson.  Better than he knows himself and he’s happy.  You’re the first girl he’s brought back here since...her.  Don't go breaking his heart, mmm?’

She grabs me into a tight hug, almost choking the air out of me, before I can respond.  Her?  Who is ‘her’?   

‘Aah, there you are,’ says Teddy, walking towards me.  ‘I want to get your phone number.  My Grandson would love you.’

‘Oh...well...I’m really not looking to get into anything right now,’ I stall.

‘Nonsense.  You never know when you’re going to be swept of your feet my dear.’

‘Leave the poor girl alone Teddy,’ Grams complains to him.

‘I will, when I get her number,’ he says, insistent.

I begrudgingly type my number into his phone hoping that I’ll never get a call.

 

 

When we finally get out of the door it's 10.30pm, but it feels more like midnight, the cold dark sky above us.

‘Here,’ he says, taking off his hooded cardigan and handing it to me.  ‘You look like you could do with this.’

I think about what a romantic gesture this is, until he smiles and I realise he’s staring at my erect nipples.

‘Cheeky bastard!’  I shove him before throwing it on and zipping it up.  ‘If you were a real gentlemen you would have offered this to me when we were arriving.’

‘Yeah, but where would the fun in that be?’ he smiles.

I hit him on the arm in response, lingering to feel the dark thick hair on them.  When I get in the car I snuggle up against the chair and let the hum of the engine drift me off to sleep.

*
                            *                            *

 

 

‘Poppy.’

I wake up in the car to see Ryan in my face, rubbing my cheek softly with the back of his fingers. 

‘We’re home,’ he says, his soft voice overwhelming. 

I stretch my arms out in front of me and let him help me out of the car and up to the door.  I’m so sleepy that I almost fall asleep against the wall as he fumbles with the key in the door.  Once it's open I head straight for my bedroom.

‘Poppy?’ he whispers in the dark so as not to wake anyone.

‘Yeah,’ I whisper back, my eyelids heavy.

‘Thanks for coming today.  She loved you.’  His voice is alluring, whether he’s aiming for that or not.

‘I didn’t have much choice,’ I whisper, smiling coyly even though he probably can't see me.

The darkness just seems to add to the electric atmosphere.  Only the glare of the streetlight shining through the top window of the door highlights his eyes. 

He edges closer and my heart stalls, any chance of breathing gone.  He stretches out his hand and places it on my cheek looking deep into my eyes.

‘Well, goodnight,’ he says. 

He pecks a kiss on my lips before pulling them away from mine.  For two agonising heart beats he doesn’t move.  I stare at him, trying to not let him see me shiver from the electric current that just passed through us.

‘Goodnight,’ I whisper, looking into those amazing brown eyes glittering in the darkness, as need, desire and flat out frustration push me over the edge.

Before I have time to reason with myself I close the tiny space between us and peck another quick kiss on his warm, delicious lips.

As I step back and look at his confused expression I wonder whether I’ve done the wrong thing kissing him back.  I’ve done it.  I’ve completely misread the signals.  He’s just being a nice guy.  I’m mortified. 

‘Well, I’ll see you in the morning,’ he says.

He strokes my cheek and leans in for another kiss, this time lingering his lips on mine for a second too long.  He pulls back leaving me cold and alone from his withdrawal and backs away.  He continues to stare as he walks up the stairs, both confusion and amusement showing on his face.

I lean against the wall, struggling to take in breaths, more confused than ever.

Chapter 21 

 

Why would he kiss me?  I thought he was still going out with Tabitha?  Plus, I really don't know if I can trust that he has no feelings for Grace.  I’m so confused.  Maybe it was just a friendship kiss and I’m just reading too much into it.  That bitch would probably be very upset if she knew.  I know it's wrong but whenever I picture her crying about it, a smile creeps over my face.  Someone needs to bring that bitch down a peg or two anyway.  She’s probably still horrified how any man can reject her. 

I know her sort; always getting what she wants, whether it be a man or a new car from Daddy.  The popular girl from school who always dated the cool guy that everyone wanted and made sure everyone knew about how happy they were, flaunting it in everyone’s faces. 

She makes me feel like the same gangly teenager that I was then, all braces and frizzy hair.  Where she would have big hair and boobs, I’d have a big spot and bruise from where I’d fallen down the stairs.  Again.  God I hated school.

I’m still not so delusional to think that Ryan would choose me over her or Tabitha.  I mean really, he did just kiss me goodnight.  A normal reaction for a friend.  I kiss Jazz goodbye all the time and don't bat an eyelid over it.  Why was he any different?  But I know why.  Because he’s a Greek God of a man.  All jawline and cheek bones, his scruffy hair falling round his eyes.  Oh God, just thinking about him gets me aroused. 

It was a bit awkward this morning at breakfast but luckily Grace and Izzy were there too so I was able to just stare at him awkwardly over my Weetabix. 

‘Hey Pops, how are you?’ Lilly asks as soon as I get to my desk.

‘OK,’ I say feeling exhausted.

‘God, that really is going to be a big scar,’ she says, grabbing my face for a closer look.

‘Thanks for the support,’ I say sarcastically.

‘You know I love you Pops,’ she smiles.

‘Poppy!’ Victor shouts at the top of his lungs.

Lilly looks horrified and runs off as I scramble for a pen and paper.

‘Poppy!’ he shouts again, frustrated.  Shit, he sounds pissed.  My stomach starts churning. 

‘Hi, sorry I just had to get a pen,’ I say flustered at her door.

‘Why did you book these?’ he asks, hitting a piece of paper in his hand.

‘Your flights?  I...thought you told me to?’  I’m trying desperately to un-jumble my thoughts.

‘No I never!  Why would I say that!?’  His face is reddening and his stare is turning dangerous.

‘Sorry.  I thought you told me to book them,’ I whisper pathetically.

I bloody know he told me to book them, but there's no point in arguing with him.  It won't get me anywhere.

‘Well I didn’t!’ he shouts furiously.  He puts the paper down and places his hands on his temples.  ‘Poppy shut the door,’ he whispers.

Shit.  Whispering is never a good sign.  I turn round to shut the door and feel the nerves taking over my body.

‘Poppy,’ he says, his voice a malicious whisper. 

I hate this voice.  It's actually more intimidating than his shouting.

‘When I tell you to book something, I’d like you to book it.  But in this occasion, I did not tell you to book it.  Do you understand?’  He looks at me as if I’m mentally retarded.

‘Yes, sorry,’ I say swallowing my pride.  ‘I just thought you had.  My mistake.’

‘Are you calling me a liar?’ he asks aggressively, the vein in his forehead throbbing. 

‘No!’ I shout back, too startled to be diplomatic.

‘Good,’ although it sounds anything but OK.  ‘You’ll have to just get it sorted.’  He throws the piece of paper in the bin and turns to the window.

‘Sorry...get it sorted?’ I ask, barely looking up.

‘Yes!  Ring the airline and get it sorted.  This is the last thing I want to hear about it.’  He waves his hands at me.  I suppose that means I’m dismissed.

I turn to walk out, feeling completely deflated.

‘Oh, Poppy?’

‘Yes?’

‘Terrible injury on your face there.’

‘Oh yes.’  I pull my hand up to my face instinctively.  ‘Just had a small fall.’

‘Well perhaps you should drink less.  It looks very bad on the company, me employing someone who could be an extra on Shameless.’

Dick.

‘Goodbye.’ 

*
                            *                            *

 

 

Two hours later and I’ve rung everyone trying to get it sorted.  The travel agent, the airline, even my friend that works for the airline, in a desperate last bid attempt that she could somehow hijack the system.  But nothing can be done.  The only thing left is to just burst into tears and threaten to kill myself. 

‘Damn it!  I fucking hate this place,’ I say to myself, a little too loudly.

‘Mind your language please, Poppy,’ Cheryl says, over her computer.

‘Oh fuck off,’ I snap, shaking from the sudden adrenalin running through my veins.

‘Well!  There's no need for that!’ She huffs loudly, turning round offended.

‘Sorry!  I didn’t mean it.  I’m just...having a breakdown.’

‘Oh...right,’ she says, perplexed, but not caring enough to ask.  ‘Well your phone went off with a text.’

I reach for my phone and find a text from Jazz.

‘Hey sex pot, Mission for today is to say yes to everything.  EVERYTHING!  See what new doors it opens for you.  Have fun chicken xxx’

For goodness sakes!  Why couldn’t her life be a little more stressful?  Just a little bit more – I’m sure it would make me feel better about myself.  Even when she’s five grand in debt she doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.

‘Hi Poppy,’ Neville says, making me jump.  ‘Having a bad day?’

Bless Neville.  He’s hardly the best looking or funniest guy in the world but he’s probably the nicest. 

‘Yeah, a bit of an understatement actually,’ I cringe.

‘Well...I was kind of wondering...if you’re not too busy.’  His face starts turning a shade of purple and sweat has suddenly appeared on his upper lip. 

Oh my God.  He’s going to ask me out.  Damn it.  Why the fuck didn’t I listen to Lilly?  She always says you can't be nice to boys without them assuming you fancy them.

‘What?’ I ask quietly, hoping I’m wrong.

He takes a deep breath, seemingly for courage. 

‘Would you like to accompany me to lunch today?’

Oh.  Lunch.  That's not so bad.  I have lunch with Lilly every day, no big deal.  And I’ve got to say yes to everything anyway.

‘Yes.’

His face lights up as if he’s won the lottery. 

‘Great, see you then.’

*
                            *                            *

 

 

‘No, no!  I insist on picking this up,’ Neville says, as the waitress places the bill on the table.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask, hoping he won't argue.

‘Of course,’ he smiles.  ‘I’ve had a great time.’

‘Me too,’ I smile back.

And the truth is that I have had a great time.  So what if Neville isn’t Brad Pitt?  So what if I don't fancy him one little bit?  I still had a great time.  He’s really funny when he’s relaxed.  We spent half the lunch taking the piss out of everyone else in the restaurant.  To be honest, I feel like I needed someone to adore me for an hour.  It seems so long since anyone really gave a shit.  I just hope he realises we’re better off as friends.

The waitress walks over to get the cheque and fiddles around with the card machine when he asks the question I’ve been dreading.

‘So...do you fancy doing this again?’

Oh dear.  How do I tackle this one?  Carefully I think.  Very carefully. 

The waitress says something under her breath in a foreign language and laughs to herself.  God knows what it was, but Neville’s back immediately goes up.

‘How dare you!’ Neville shouts.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ the waitress says, taken aback.  ‘I didn’t realise you spoke Portuguese.’

‘Yes, well that's very clear,’ Neville says, still furious.  ‘Perhaps next time you should think before you speak.’

‘I’m...I’m really sorry,’ she stammers.  ‘It's just that...well, I just don't see it with you two.’

She looks at me and then at Neville and laughs again to herself.  How dare this woman judge us!?  And poor Neville looks so embarrassed, his cheeks practically puce.

‘Well, maybe you should look a bit closer,’ I say getting up abruptly.  I drag Nevile up and tuck his arm into mine.  ‘Come on Neville.’

He smiles at me in wonder and amazement, before smiling triumphantly at the waitress.

‘Well, good day to you,’ he says.

He leads me towards the door but stops midway.  I look at him confused.

‘I forgot to leave a tip,’ he says apologetically.

‘Tip?  Are you crazy?  Come on, you’re ruining our great walk out.’  I drag him towards the door before he can change his mind. 

The minute we’re on the pavement we both collapse in helpless laughter. 

‘That was the best lunch I’ve had in ages,’ he says, smiling warmly.  

‘Um...thanks.’

*                            *                            *

 

 

That night as I walk towards Mum and Dad’s house I pull out my phone and take another deep breath.  This is no big deal.  I’m sure it's not proper fraud and you’re doing this for a friend.  She’ll thank you eventually.

I dial the number and wait for someone to pick it up.

‘Hello, Grenada Estate Agents, how can I help you?’

‘Hi,’ I say in the most official PA voice I can muster.  ‘This is Miss Windsor here, PA to Miss Jasmine Green.  I’d like to make an appointment to see a flat.’

‘Oh marvellous,’ the woman says, clearly smelling a sale.  ‘Can I ask the flat in question?’

‘Yes, it's property number 652, a flat on Brenville Road.’

‘OK, let me have a look.’  I listen to her tapping on her computer and brace myself for her answer, my stomach a bag of nerves.  ‘Oh dear.  I’m afraid that we’ve had an accepted offer on that flat and it's been taken off the market.’

‘Well, Miss Green is willing to pay over the odds.’

‘I’m afraid there's nothing I can do,’ she says apologetically.

‘You do realise that I’m talking about Miss Jasmine Green?  Daughter to the porn tycoon Reginald Green?’

‘Oh....wow.  No, I didn’t’.  I can hear her thinking.  ‘When you say willing to pay over the odds....how...how much more are we talking?’

‘Let’s just say that Miss Green knows what she wants and money is no object to her.’

‘Crumbs!’  She laughs nervously.

‘Look, it's up to you.  If you’d rather miss out on the commission...’

‘Oh no!  No, no, we’d love to help!  Let me speak to the seller and get back to you.  If I could just take a number.’

I smile to myself and give her my number.  Thank God, for once things are going my way.

I let myself in and stop for a minute to breathe in the overly perfumed house.  It normally over powers me, but today I find it soothing.  This afternoon with Victor was torturous.  I had to explain that we couldn’t change the flights and if we booked something else we’d have to lose the money.  To say he wasn’t pleased is an understatement.  He actually threw a stapler.   

‘Hi, Mum, are you in?’

‘Hey Po Po,’ Ollie says, walking out of the kitchen eating toast.  His eye is completely black now from Jake’s punch.  Far worse than I thought it would be.

‘Hey bro.  Where’s Mum?’

‘She’s in the sitting room arguing with Dad in front of Abbey.’  He rolls his eyes. 

‘Oh great,’ I sigh.  ‘How did she react to the black eye?’

‘I don't want to talk about it,’ he says dismissively.  ‘Let’s just say not well.  It's this fucking wedding stressing her out.  It’s all she’s been talking about for the last year.  It's driving me crazy.’

Thank God I have one normal brother. 

‘Tell me about it.  Apparently I’m here for a fitting for a dress she’s picked out for me.’

‘Ha ha!  Good luck.  Oh and wait till you see the new sitting room,’ he smirks.  He turns and stomps upstairs like a moody teenager.

I take a deep breath to brace myself and enter the room.

‘All I’m saying is that Abbey might not want you wearing a white dress,’ Dad says, as diplomatically as he can.

‘And why the hell shouldn’t I?  Your mother took over my wedding and completely ruined it, and by the looks of it I’m not going to have the pleasure of giving Poppy away, so this may be the only wedding I get.’

‘Only wedding you get?  My God, Richard only got married last year and you nearly drove Annabel mad with your ridiculous planning.  And you’re doing the same again.’

‘Oh, hi darling,’ Mum says, when she sees me.  ‘Come and give Mummy a hug.’  She puts down her glass of wine and opens her arms wide.

BOOK: The Debt & the Doormat
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