The Debt & the Doormat (16 page)

Stuart smiles cockily. 

‘Maybe you’re like that now.  But I’m sure it’ll eventually grate on you.  Poppy, do you remember when you fell over at Ethan’s wedding?  God, I still laugh about it.’  He starts chuckling.

‘Yes, thanks for the reminder,’ I say slowly, trying to control my anger.

‘Do you remember my little nickname for you?’

I glare back at him, all previous feelings of love a distant memory. 

‘Of course I do.’

Ryan looks between us both confused.  Stuart seems pleased with himself, as if having this over Ryan makes him the winner.

‘I used to call her Humpty Dumpty,’ he declares proudly.

‘Humpty Dumpty?’ Ryan repeats, horrified.

‘Because I always had great big falls,’ I clarify, wanting the ground to swallow me up.

Ryan gives me a look which I think means ‘what an arsehole.’

Our starters arrive and I’m pleased for the distraction.  The waiter places down my garlic bread and I start tucking in.  I shove a big bit of garlic bread in my mouth, wanting this evening to be over as soon as possible.  Its garlic butter melts on my tongue.  God, it's delicious.  I swallow it quickly, eager to eat more, but it gets caught in my throat.  I cough to get it out. 

I try to cough discreetly, but no noise comes out.  That’s strange.  I try to breathe through my nose, but I can’t do that either.  I try to cough again, louder now, desperate to dislodge it.  But it's moulded together to completely lodge my throat.  I try to speak, to say help, but nothing comes out.  It dawns on me – I’m choking.

I grab a glass of champagne and neck it back, but the liquid just sits on top of the garlic bread, not having any impact.

Ok, now I’m starting to panic.  I turn to Ryan and start pointing to my throat with my mouth open.  All I get back is a confused face, obviously wondering why I’m being so weird.

I stand up, suddenly so hot I feel I might burst.  I’m going to die.  I’m going to die. 

‘Is she choking?’ Claudine asks calmly, still sipping on her champagne.

I nod my head like a lunatic, trying to plead with my eyes for help.

‘Shit, she’s choking,’ Ryan says, jumping to his feet. 

He throws the chairs out of the way and starts tapping me on the back of my neck.  But it’s no use; he’s patting me instead of hitting me and it’s making no impact.  Pressure starts to build in my chest and I start to panic, my body going into full on spasm.  My throat burns as I slowly suffocate. 

Ryan begins hitting me hard on the back, now seeming desperate, but it’s not working.  Nothing is working.  The ache’s getting worse.  Ryan’s still hitting me harder and harder.  A small crowd begins to form around us.  I can hear people shouting for an ambulance.  Things are starting to go a bit hazy around the edges. 

I want Ryan to stop hitting me now.  It’s so hard and if I’m going to die I want to die in peace.  My eyes are getting heavy.  I just want to give up and die.  It's really not worth it.  He’s saying something like ‘come on’ over and over again.  I close my eyes trying to think of happy thoughts. 

I think of Jazz.  Us going to a Garage night at Uni.  Us stealing her boyfriend’s car so that we can drive to Sheffield to pick up a trumpet she bought on e-bay.  Us dancing to the Spice Girls and me falling off stage while doing my zig a zig ah. 

Ryan grabs my floppy body, now seeming desperate and puts one arm around my stomach.  He bends me over slightly and starts whacking me harder on the back.  But it's useless.  I’m running out of time.

I keep my eyes closed and try again to think of happy thoughts.  I try to ignore the intense pain I’m feeling against my chest.  I think about the garlic bread and how I could be the only person in the world so ridiculous as to choke to death on a lousy piece of garlic bread.  How amazing to think that you can live for twenty five years and then within two minutes your life can be over forever. 

I think I imagine it slowly begin to dislodge, a tiny air hole formed.  I pray that it isn’t my imagination playing tricks on me.  It seems to move slowly, too slowly.  I think this is actually worse than choking, just waiting and hoping for it to move.  Hoping I’m not dead by then.  This is slower, more painful.  Bit by bit it starts to move.  Eventually it slips down my throat. 

One giant gasp of air escapes from my mouth, burning my throat.  I feel my body completely give way.  Ryan clutches hold of me as I fall floppy to the floor. 

I open my eyes to see that I’m still on the floor and my wish of having passed out hasn’t been granted.  Ryan’s touching my face and calling my name, but I can’t hear him properly.  It’s like the volume has been turned down.  I close my eyes, trying to hear through the ringing in my ears.   

Suddenly I can hear.  EVERYTHING.  It’s mega loud, like the volume had been turned up full blast.  I turn my face away from the noise.  I can hear everyone in the restaurant talking about me, asking if I’m OK.  Loudest of all I can hear Ryan shouting my name as he slaps my cheeks hard. 

‘Alright,’ I croak in a weak voice, my throat still burning.  ‘There’s no need to shout.  I can hear you.’

He smiles and looks extremely relieved, but still cautious.  

‘Can you walk?’ he asks, his brown eyes narrowing on me. 

‘Yeah.’  I try to get up, but the room is still spinning slightly.

‘Right.’  He tucks his arms underneath my neck and knees, scooping me up in one swift movement.  I open my mouth to protest, but reconsider. 

He walks towards the door.  The rocking movement of his walk isn’t helping my nausea.  I close my eyes and pull my head into his chest, trying to shield myself from all of the staring faces.  God, why did this have to happen to me?  Mortification floods over me.  I wish I had died. 

‘We’re leaving,’ Ryan shouts back to Stuart and Claudine.

‘Yeah of course, but do you want any help?’

But Ryan’s already half way out of the restaurant.  The door slams and I feel the cold fresh air on my skin.  I struggle to get free and stand on my own.

‘I’m fine now,’ I protest, completely humiliated.

‘Are you sure?’ he asks, a hand still around my waist.

‘Yeah, honestly I’m fine.’ 

I steady myself against a shop window.  I take another deep breath, fighting the nausea with all of my strength.  I can't believe I choked in front of him.  He’s never going to find me remotely attractive if I keep behaving like such a retard around him. 

‘Well, I’ve known some excuses for getting out of dinner, but that was crazy.’

I laugh weakly, just wanting to get home and hide under my duvet.

‘You scared me for a minute there,’ he admits after a pause.  His tone makes it sound like he’s confessing to a humiliating weakness.

‘Thanks,’ I smile gratefully.  Maybe I should just get a red nose and enrol in the circus. 

He puts his hand out into the street for a black cab and one pulls up immediately.

‘A cab?  I thought we’d just get the tube?’

‘After that drama, I think you deserve a taxi.’  He opens the door for me.  ‘After you, princess.’

He
has
to stop calling me princess.

‘Thanks,’ I say once we’re in.  ‘Thanks for everything. 
Obviously
saving my life, but also lying to him about being my boyfriend.  I couldn’t believe it when you said it.’  I smile at the memory of his shocked face.

‘Yeah, well I guessed it was your ex from the way you were acting.  You looked all flustered and panicky.’

‘Oh, I didn’t hide it that well then,’ I laugh.

‘Not really.  But shush, just rest yourself for a little while.’  He pulls my head into his chest.  ‘You did nearly just choke to death.’

His body is so warm and strong.  I feel myself relaxing as I listen to his heartbeat.  I could happily stay here forever.  I’m already afraid of when I’ll have to leave him.  It's actually like a slow form of torture.  I’m just beginning to drift off when I hear him speak to the cab driver.

‘If you could just pull over here for a minute.  I’ll be back in a sec.’

He gently removes me from his chest and leans me against the seat, disappearing.  I look out of the window to see where he’s going.  I nearly cry with relief when I see him go into an Indian take away.  He’s a mind reader.  I’m sure that stress makes me hungry and at the moment I am positively starving. 

I watch him order, charming the girl behind the desk, who’s completely taken by him; twirling her hair and sticking her chest out.  He seems completely unaware of the effect he has on people.  He leans against the wall reading a paper while the girl flutters her eyelashes nearby and tries to engage him in conversation.  He eventually walks back towards the cab holding a brown paper bag. 

God, he’s so sexy.  Just watching him walk makes me want to rip his clothes off.  I really can’t believe how a suit can change someone so much.  I thought he was gorgeous before, but now he’s like an Adonis. 

He climbs into the cab, holding up the brown bag. 

‘Dinner.’  He pulls some naan bread out and tears it, handing some over to me.

‘You read my mind.’  I stuff it into my mouth.

‘Chew slowly now, remember,’ he teases.

*
                            *                            *

When the cab pulls up outside the house he insists on paying.  I flick the lights on, glad to find the house in darkness.  This must mean that Izzy and Grace are out.  We have the place to ourselves.  I grab some plates and cutlery while he grabs a bottle of wine and some glasses.

We settle down on the floor in front of the TV and begin un-wrapping the contents of the bag.

‘I didn’t know what you liked, so I got you a chicken korma.  Is that ok?’

‘Am I that predictable?’ I laugh, remembering Stuart’s cruel words.

‘No, trust me, you’re
anything
but predictable.’  He stares at me, serious for a second.

I blush heavily.  What does he mean by that?  Does he mean I’m a nightmare?

‘So anyway,’ I must change the subject.  ‘You got the job!  Tell me about it.’  I start picking peas out of my rice.

‘Well, it's with a firm called Swift and Taylor.  I actually had a job offer from them before I went travelling.’

‘Really?  And you still went travelling?’ I ask, wanting him to tell me his entire life story.  From the day he was born, until now, not leaving out a single detail.  ‘Did you just get bored of work or something?’ 

I spoon a bit of my korma onto my plate and manage to spill a bit on the carpet.  I quickly cover it with my hand hoping he hasn’t noticed.

‘Yeah pretty much.’  He hands me a tea towel to clean up my mess.

Damn it.

‘Did you go with anyone?’ I ask wondering if he ever had a proper relationship.  He seems to know everything about me and my past, but I know nothing about him.

‘Nope.  Just me,’ he says, his voice shockingly vulnerable.

‘Really?  And you liked it?’

‘It was unbelievable.  Obviously, I wouldn’t recommend it for you; you’d probably end up being eaten by a shark or something, but I loved it.’

‘Ha ha!’  I slap him hard on his strong chest.

‘So then I came back here and I heard they were looking again.’

It’s funny how he’s not the complete layabout I first thought he was. 

‘That's great.  Do you get to say ‘I object’ and all that?’

‘No, it's a different kind of lawyer to that,’ he says amused.  ‘I’m a family lawyer, so it's mainly divorces, child custody battles, the occasional domestic violence, that kind of thing.’

‘Oh,’ I say, disappointed.  ‘That doesn’t sound too good.’

‘It's not as boring as you’d think.  The firm is actually a really good one to get in with.  They’re well known for being very good at promoting people internally.’

It always makes me want to laugh when people say ‘promoting people internally’.  It just makes me think of the insides of people’s bodies.

‘No, I didn’t think it was boring.  I just think it's a bit sad, that's all.’

‘Sad?  Why?’  He frowns, seeming genuinely confused.

‘Well, seeing relationships break up every day.  That must get you down, no?’

Note to self: don't talk with a mouth full of naan bread.

‘Not really,’ he shrugs.  ‘It's just part of life isn’t it?  You know, they say now that one in two couples will divorce.’

‘What?  That's rubbish!’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes!’ I protest, waving my hands in the air.  ‘How can you think that?  Look at all the couples out there in love!’

‘I’m not saying they’re not in love.  I’m just saying relationships never last.’

‘That's bullshit,’ I say, losing my temper slightly.

He looks taken back. 

‘Really?  Because you and Stuart ended so well?’

‘Don't talk about him!’ I say, my voice scored with hurt.  ‘We obviously weren’t meant to be.  I’m sure there’s someone out there for me.’