The Debt & the Doormat (25 page)

Mum holds onto the table, her face as white as a ghost. 

‘You’ve....’ she swallows, as if she is holding back the vomit.  ‘You’ve got a girl....pregnant?’ she asks in disbelief.

‘Yes,’ he nods, meeting my eye for long enough to let me know this is a rouse.  With him I wouldn’t be shocked if it was true.  Which is why this is such a brilliant excuse; it's so believable. 

Dad steadies himself against the wall, his face red and blotchy. 

‘How could you have done this?’ Dad asks him.  ‘I thought I always taught you boys to use a condom.’  His voice is low and beaten. 

‘Don't say condom,’ Mum cries, tears streaming down her face. 

‘Well maybe if we’d said condom a little more often when they were growing up he’d have learnt how to put one on!’ Dad shouts. 

‘Maybe now isn’t the best time,’ Annabel says, getting up and backing out of the room. 

‘I can't believe this,’ Mum cries, sinking dramatically to the floor.  ‘You’ve ruined your life!  Got some little slut pregnant.’

‘Whoops,’ Ollie shrugs.          

*                            *                            *

By the time I’ve made it to the front door, full fatigue has set in.  Two hours of arguing really does take it out of you.  Luckily Ollie remained vague and refused to tell the family who the girl that he’d got pregnant was. 

I put the key in the door and am about to let myself in, when I remember my surprise party.  I’ve been thinking about it on the train and I reckon Jazz is double bluffing me.  Of course there’s going to be a party.  She and Izzy would have planned something for sure.  Jazz must have just taken some acting classes.  They might still be making arrangements now. 

I knock on the door, just to let them know I’m coming in.  There’s no answer so I slowly walk into the hallway.  I walk in the kitchen sure to find them frantically putting away banners and balloons, but everyone seems to be acting so ordinary.  Izzy’s doing squats, Grace is lying on the sofa in her knickers and a crop top watching A Place in the Sun and Ryan’s making tea.  Surely they wouldn’t genuinely be ignoring the fact it's my birthday unless they’re getting ready to take me out?

So I perk myself up, have a shower and steal some of Grace’s expensive body wash.  I blow dry and straighten my hair and moisturise my skin with some of Jazz’s coconut oil.  By 8pm I’m getting a bit concerned that no-one’s tried to get me out of the house.  I mean, surely the guests should be starting to arrive by now?

I walk into the sitting room and find the three of them squashed on the sofa watching TV.  Grace is still in her knickers and crop top, Izzy’s in her stripy pink pyjamas and Ryan’s in tracksuit bottoms and a tomato ketchup stained t-shirt.  These really don't look like the kind of people that are about to host a surprise party for me.

‘Hey Pops, you want some cheese on toast?’ Izzy asks holding out a piece to me.

‘No, I’m fine thanks,’ I say pushing it out of my face.  ‘Actually I was wondering if anyone wanted to go out.  You know, to celebrate my birthday?’ I ask hopefully.

‘Oh, sorry hun,’ Izzy says, grimacing.  ‘I thought you said you didn’t want me to do anything?  The truth is I’m pretty knackered from last night and could do with just chilling.’

‘Yeah me too,’ Grace and Ryan chime in. 

It seems that they’re more in tune than I thought.  Images of them together flash through my mind and I force them out again.  I doubt they’d eat lasagne off of each other’s naked bodies anyway.

‘Oh, OK,’ I say, deflated.  ‘Maybe I’ll just watch some TV with you then.’  I settle down on the floor and wrap my arms around my legs. 

This is some good quality acting these guys are doing.  I mean, any minute now they’re going to tell me we have to go out.  Any minute now.  Yet the clock keeps ticking and they only seem to be getting sleepier and sleepier. 

When the clock strikes 9pm it dawns on me that there was no acting today.  There really is no party.  And I shouldn’t be upset, I mean, I told them not to organise anything.  But now I’m desperate to do something.  I mean, you only turn twenty-six once, don't you?

‘Izzy, are you sure you don't wanna pop out for a few drinks?  We could go somewhere quiet?’ I plead pathetically.

‘Well...oh, OK,’ she smiles sympathetically.  ‘Go get ready and I’ll throw on some clothes.’

‘Great.’

I run into my room and throw on one of Jazz’s tight dresses.  I don't care if it's a pity outing.  I just want to get out of this house.  A hum of conversation vibrates quietly through the wall and I press my ear to it to eavesdrop.

‘Yeah, but I feel bad.  I mean, no-one’s bothered to celebrate her birthday with her.’

‘But she said she didn’t want anything,’ I hear Ryan protest.

‘But still.  I can't be horrible,’ I hear Izzy say before she runs up stairs.

Well this birthday is awful.  It's like the universe is setting out to let me know that nobody cares about me.  I mean, am I that awful that people just either find me totally hilarious or a giant pain in the arse?  I fight back my pride and the tears pricking at my eyes and leave with Izzy, plastering on a fake smile.

‘The local pub OK?’ she asks.

‘Um...yeah, of course.’

I’m a tad over dressed for The Old Swan, but right now I just want to go out for a few drinks and then crawl back into bed where I can cry myself to sleep. 

Izzy makes the best of it, chatting pointlessly about fitness, or running, or something like that.  But I’m not interested.  I can't help but think about Grace and Ryan at home alone together.  I mean, what if they’re having sex right now?  Going ‘how ridiculous was Poppy earlier’ and throwing their heads back laughing before continuing to lick each other. 

‘Poppy, I know I’m awful, but I’m really kind of exhausted.  Do you mind if we call it a night?’ Izzy asks apologetically. 

I glance at the clock on the wall.  10pm.  I’ve stayed out on my birthday until 10pm?

‘Yeah, of course.’

We walk down the couple of streets back to the house as I feel the emotion brewing in my body.  Nobody wants to spend my birthday with me.  Not my best friend, barely my family and now not even Izzy.  What is wrong with me? 

I take my shoes off, giving in to the crushing, and walk barefoot in the street for what seems like forever until we reach the shiny red door.  I’m going to just run in and sob heavily into my pillow.  I’m going to wallow in my own self-pity and never resurface.  I honestly can’t wait. 

Izzy unlocks the door and we stumble into the dark house.  Ryan and Grace must be in bed.  Maybe even together in bed.  God, the thought of it makes my heart ache.  Them lying in bed laughing about me.

‘Night,’ I whimper.  I run into my bedroom closing the door firmly behind me. 

Sleep.  That’ll make it better, it always does.  Whenever life gets hard, have a nap.  I lie flat on the bed and let the full embarrassment flood over my body.  What a loser.  I brace myself, clutching my pillow, ready to release my body into full on sobs.

‘Poppy!  Did you leave the oven on?  Something’s burnt in here!’

Oh for fucks sake!  Is it not enough that everyone hates me, now I’m going to get blamed for burning something?  You burn one piece of garlic bread and nearly set the house on fire once and they hold it against you forever.  I stomp out of the room and head for the kitchen.

‘No!  It must be Grace and Ryan!’ I shout moodily into the dark.

The lights flick on, blinding me momentarily. 

‘SURPRISE!’

I open my eyes to see a room crammed with people.  Everyone’s wearing stupid birthday hats and letting off party poppers and there are happy birthday banners hung on the walls. 

It's too much.

Without any self-control I burst into tears, and not just tears, heavy sobs.  I turn and run out of the room, throwing myself face down on the bed.  I hear some muffled voices next door and then music is turned on loud.

‘Poppy!  Are you ok?’ Jazz asks, hovering over me.

‘No!’ I cry into my pillow.  ‘How the fuck could you do this to me?’

I look up, furious, to see Jazz looking back puzzled. 

‘Wait, I’m confused.  We’ve had this party planned for well over a week and we’re worried you’ll go mad and say that you don't want a party.  Then today you ring me up and say you do want a party and we think, great – she won't be cross.  But now you’re crying.  What the fuck?’

‘It's just...it’s just....Well, I honestly thought that no-one gave a shit about me.’

‘Oh babe!’  She throws herself on top of me, crushing me into the mattress.  ‘You’re such an idiot.’

‘Oh thanks.’  I push her off me.  ‘But....you were all such good actors.  I just...didn’t think you had it in you.’

‘I know, right!’ she beams proudly.  ‘I was so good when you rang me earlier.  I was at home ringing round making sure everyone was still coming, and Jake was just playing rock music on the CD player.  Apparently he said that normally when I’m acting I put on some weird posh voice, so I tried really hard to sound normal.’

‘Really?  A weird posh voice?  I’ve never noticed.’  I desperately try not to smile.

‘I know!  I said he was a weirdo.  So anyway, have you gotten over your little melodrama, nobody loves me saga?  You coming back out?’

‘I suppose.  I’m just...God, I’m just so embarrassed in front of everyone now.’

God, they’re all gonna think I’m a nutcase running away like that. 

‘Don't worry, we’ll just tell them you’re on the blob,’ she shrugs.

‘Jazz!  Don't tell anyone that!’

‘Ok chill out,’ she laughs, flicking her curls back and already re-applying red lipstick.

‘Ok, how do I look?’

She studies me for a while, seeming to be wondering whether to tell me the truth or not.

‘A bit like my Mum after her face lift; red and puffy.’  She pulls a face.  ‘But you’ll do, come on.’  She drags me out into the kitchen before I have time to fix it.

*                            *                            *

Two hours later and the party is in full swing.  Everyone I love is here and they’re all in the party spirit.  Jazz seems to be going between snogging Jake on the sofa and smoking with Ollie in the garden.  I’m not sure I like this new relationship they’ve developed. 

Lilly’s here with her long suffering boyfriend Alex who she’s spent the entire night either arguing with or slagging him off to me in the toilets.  Cheryl from work is here, engrossed in what looks like a deep conversation with some girls from work, who Lilly must have talked into coming.  Craig is dancing to Vogue with Bakery Girl.  My brothers Henry and Richard are here too.  Henry’s brought Abbey, who keeps looking round at the place as if she might catch a disease, while Richard stands by awkwardly.  Thankfully no Annabel tonight. 

After that, I don't really recognise the rest of them.  Jazz must have just invited everyone she knows.  But who am I to complain.  If it were just my friends we could have held the party in the bathroom.

‘So, we really fooled you?’ Ryan asks in my ear, his silky irresistible voice making my pulse jump.

I swivel round to face him, suddenly feeling flustered.   

‘Oh...yeah.  You were all so horrible, I totally believed it.’

‘Good,’ he says, with a smile.  ‘So it seems you’ve had your first birthday without bad luck.’

I force myself to look away from the intensity of his stare, his gaze making me lose my breath.  Grace’s words still flash through my mind, stabbing me like a dagger.

‘Yeah, don't jinx me yet,’ I snort, trying to keep it light.  Very attractive.

‘I say we make our own luck,’ he says, his voice smouldering and his eyes gloriously intense. 

‘Yeah, well...anyway,’ I say flushing.  ‘I should probably...you know...’  I slowly back away.

I glance over at Ollie shamelessly flirting with Jazz.  Ryan and my brother are actually more alike than I thought.  To think, I used to pity those ridiculous girls who fell for Ollie’s charms and followed him around like a lost puppy.  Now I’m one of those pathetic morons. 

‘Happy birthday Poppy!’ a recognisable high pitched voice comes from behind me.

I turn round to face Annabel.  What the hell is she doing here?

She grabs me, kissing me on both cheeks. 

‘Sorry I’m late, but I had to get some work stuff finished.’

A stone drops through my stomach as I look into Annabel’s excited eyes and then over my shoulder at poor Cheryl. 

Oh my God.  Cheryl is only a couple of metres behind me.  If she sees Annabel she’s going to kill her.

‘Annabel!  You shouldn’t be here!’ I whisper quickly, my voice wobbly.

‘What are you talking about?’ she asks, as if I’m mad.  ‘I see Richard!  See you later.’

She runs off towards him and I watch as she kisses him on the cheek.  God, they make such a convincingly happy couple.  It scares me to think how many other couples might be like that.

Cheryl is so close to her.  She could easily recognise her any minute.  I dread to think what she might do.  But then, would she really recognise her?  I mean, we were far away and she might not have got a good enough look of her. 

I go to the fridge to get myself another glass of wine to steady my nerves. 

‘Pops?’

I turn to face Jazz whose usual relaxed pretty face is re-arranged into a serious, concerned expression.  Serious and smashed.

‘Ollie just told me you’re pregnant?’ she slurs.

‘WHAT?’ I shout, dribbling out my wine.

‘Thank God it's not true!’  She throws her arms around me and squeezes while I try to remember how to breathe.  ‘I just reacted totally the same.  He told me your Mum had told them all, but said you were in denial and not to mention it to you.’

‘For fuck’s sake!  I told her she had it wrong.’

‘Yeah, but you know your mum.’  She pulls a face.  ‘But listen Pops, I just want you to be happy,’ she slurs, wrapping her arm around me.  ‘I may have a few drinks inside me, but...I love you babe.’  She hiccups.

‘Well, I’m still quite sober.  I just think you’re nice,’ I joke, squeezing her affectionally on the shoulder.

She stares at me blankly for a second and then giggles huskily when she eventually gets it. 

‘I’ll go tell...you know, what's his name, that you’re not preggers.’

‘You mean Ollie?’ I ask, surprised how incredibly drunk she is.

‘Yes!’ she says, throwing her hands in the air.  ‘Ollie!’

I watch her stumble off in Ollie’s direction, Jake watching her closely.  He must be wondering what she's doing talking to him all night.  In fact, I’m starting to think the same thing.

Henry starts walking towards me, a stern expression on his face.  What's his problem?

‘Poppy, I need to speak to you,’ he says seriously. 

‘Ok?’

He looks back at Jazz who’s still talking to Ollie and laughing animatedly.  Jake’s no longer there, probably sick of watching them.  

‘Is Jazz the girl Ollie got in trouble?’

I stare at him trying to comprehend what's happening.  In trouble?  Uh-oh.

‘In trouble?  Do you mean...’

‘Yes,’ he interrupts.  ‘I mean pregnant.  Is Jazz the girl Ollie has got pregnant?’

‘What?’ a man’s voice says from behind me. 

I turn round to see Jake staring at me horrified. 

‘Jazz is what?’ he asks, his face filling with fury. 

‘No!  Jake – ‘ I try, but he’s already flying off towards Jazz and Ollie.

I watch on, desperately thinking what to do.  I want to run over and protect her, but my feet seem to be glued to the spot.  I’ve never seen anyone so angry before.  He’s really scary.   

‘You fucking bastard!’ Jake screams before powering a punch in Ollie’s face. 

Ollie stumbles back in confusion and drops his Becks bottle.  Jazz jumps in front of him protectively. 

‘Whas?  Whas your problem?’ she slurs. 

‘You’re sleeping with him!  You two are welcome to each other,’ he screams before fleeing from the room, slamming the front door behind him. 

For a second I copy everyone else; just staring at them, complete shock and confusion on my face.  I eventually get my feet to move and rush over.  Jazz and I help him up while everyone looks on. 

‘Sorry Pops,’ he says, grabbing a tea towel and holding it to his nose.  ‘I’m out of here.’

‘No, don't go,’ Jazz pleads, tugging on his arm like a toddler. 

‘I am,’ he says to her.  He takes hold of her cheek.  ‘I’ll see you soon, OK?’  He smiles and leaves, with Jazz still seeming to be hanging on his every word.

‘Whatever,’ Jazz says, before stomping off to dance.

Jesus, the drama!  Are they sleeping together?  I didn’t hear either of them denying it, and touching her cheek;  surely that's not normal friendly behaviour? 

I’m suddenly aware of Grace behind me from the strong vixen perfume she insists on wearing.

‘So, wish me luck tonight,’ she whispers seductively in my ear.

‘Sorry, are you talking to me?’ I ask, swivelling round to face her.  She’s wearing a short red dress with huge gold hoop earrings.  She actually looks a bit like J-Lo tonight. 

‘Yes, of course I’m talking to you,’ she hisses, jutting her jaw out in temper.

‘Oh, well...yeah, good luck,’ I say as evenly as I can, willing my voice not to break.

‘I know you like him, you know,’ she says, her voice accusing. 

I turn away from her, burnt by her words, trying to think of a reply; some kind of put-down, a witty remark.  But my thoughts are too jumbled.  Instead I spot Cheryl dangerously close to Annabel.  Cheryl is talking to some girls from work, seeming to be telling a story, probably about her child.  Annabel is laughing at a joke Richard’s told.  Cheryl looks up at the crowd as they laugh at her story.  She looks straight at Annabel. 

I hold my breath.

A quick flash of recollection goes through her face.  Every muscle in my body tightens.  Now she’s looking down at her glass of wine, as if to think of where she knows her from.  Please don't remember.  Please don't remember. 

I make a silent prayer in my head.  Dear God, please don't let this happen.  I’ll go back to church, I promise.  And I’ll volunteer somewhere.  Anything, please! 

‘Are you listening to me?’ Grace says scathingly. 

‘Oh...yes,’ I mumble, remembering she’s there.  

I turn quickly back to Cheryl’s reaction.  She knows, I just know she knows.  She’s glaring towards Annabel and I think her hands are shaking.  Please Cheryl, don't cause a scene.

‘I wasn’t born yesterday,’ Grace snarls to my left.  ‘I just want to warn you – you don't stand a chance.’

‘Oh,’ I say, not really listening.  ‘Well, you’ve got it all wrong anyway.’

Cheryl walks over to Annabel, her hands now definitely shaking, and taps her on the shoulder.

I stare at them helplessly, feeling sick with fright, not daring to move a muscle.  Cheryl, if you can hear me and have become telepathic, please understand there is no need to cause a scene. 

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ she slurs at her.  I didn’t realise she was drunk too.

‘Excuse me?’ Annabel asks, leaning back from her.  ‘Do I know you?’

Richard looks at Cheryl bemused, sure she must be a lunatic.  Probably just assuming if she’s my friend she must be insane.   

‘Just watch your back,’ Grace whispers in my ear, sending a chill down my spine.

‘You don't know me.  But you know my husband,’ Cheryl slurs. 

‘Really?’ Annabel laughs, seeming completely oblivious.

‘You should do.  You’ve been screwing him!’ Cheryl explodes. 

‘Are you fucking listening?’ Grace snarls, shoving me on the shoulder.

‘Grace, I’ve got to go.’ 

I don’t have time for her shit right now.  I turn and start to walk across the room, my stomach flipping from nerves, towards the unfolding drama that everyone’s turned to watch.

As I put my right leg in front of the other I feel something in its way.  I try to miss it, but can’t and the tightness of my dress means I can't steady myself.  There’s nothing I can do.  I’m going down.  I’m going down and it's going to hurt.

Slam!  I hit the floor, face down.  An overpowering black, heavy pain takes over my forehead, spreading across my entire head.  I press myself up slightly and open my eyes, but the rooms spinning as if I’ve drunk tequila.  A sharp hot sting starts on my face, just above my eyebrow.  Why won't the room stop spinning?

‘Shit, Poppy!  Are you ok?’ I hear Izzy shout. 

‘I...I...’

I try to look up at her, but moving my head even an inch starts a throbbing so strong I clench my eyes shut.  Someone grabs me under the shoulders, swooping me up to standing in one swift movement.  My head almost explodes from the fastness.  I open my eyes and realise that I’m on Ryan’s lap and he’s inspecting my face.

‘I don't know what you’re talking about,’ I hear Annabel shout.  ‘Who
is
this crazy woman?’

‘Che....Cheryl,’ I stammer, trying to point towards them but instead only managing to point at a wall.

‘My name is Cheryl.  Cheryl Foster!’

I look up again and this time I manage to focus in on Annabel’s face, through the purple spots.  Sudden recognition is written all over it and Richard seems to notice.

‘Let me see your head,’ Ryan demands.

I look up to him, my head still blurry.  He looks kind of worried.  A fresh sharp sting takes my attention back to my eyebrow.  I put my hand up to it and feel something warm.  I look at my hand to see dark red blood in between my fingers.  I swallow convulsively, my stomach heaving.   

‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,’ I say over and over to myself, suddenly shaking hysterically.

‘Is she bleeding?’ Jazz asks from the other side, struggling to stand still.

I swing my head round to her but only manage to let the vice tighten around my skull.  I close my eyes, trying to hear through the ringing in my ears.

‘It's pretty deep,’ Ryan clarifies.  ‘Plus I think there's still a bit of glass in there.’

‘I honestly don't know who this woman is!’ Annabel shouts.  I open my eyes to see the entire party now watching closely to see how this plays out. 

‘I know it's you!  Me and Poppy saw you with our own eyes!’ Cheryl screams.

Annabel freezes rigid and Richard reacts as if he’s been slapped in the face.  He looks over to me, devastation in his eyes.

‘Poppy,’ Ryan says, clicking his fingers in front of me.  ‘Do you think you could stay still while I try and pick it out?’

‘Can't you see a drama is unfolding?’ I attempt to shout, but instead my voice is weak and shaky. 

‘Poppy?’ Richard walks towards me, his face furious.  ‘Is this right?  Did you see Annabel and her husband?’

I slowly raise my head, afraid to see his face. 

‘Um...I...I may have,’ I admit.  I’m still so dizzy. 

‘WHAT?’  He stares at me, completely horrified and disgusted.  ‘You knew she was having an affair?  And you never fucking told me!?’

‘I’m...I’m sorry.’  I can feel my lip trembling.

‘I can't fucking believe this!’ he shouts, the vein in his forehead bulging out. 

I close my eyes again and try to fight the nausea with all of my strength, clamping my lips together.

‘Mate, I think you need to get out of her face.  Can't you see she’s got a head injury?’ Ryan says, putting his hands up and trying to push Richard away.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ Richard asks, his face hostile.

‘I’m Poppy’s housemate and right now you just need to get out of her face so we can take her to hospital.’

‘Richard, let’s go,’ Annabel pleads reaching for his arm with tears in her eyes.

‘Get off me, you fucking whore!’ he snaps, throwing her off.

This is really not going well. 

Richard storms out, Annabel running after him, while the whole party watches in shock.

‘Jesus,’ Ryan sighs once they’re gone.  ‘Drama follows you around, doesn’t it?  Anyway, do you think you could stay still while I try and pick it out?’

I nod and swallow, my stomach heaving from the thought of the blood.  Izzy holds my head still and Jazz holds my hand while he pokes around in my wound.

‘Aaaah!’ I cry, trying to wrench my head away from him.

‘I’m just trying to get the glass out of it!’ he shouts back frustrated.

‘Why is there glass in it anyway?’ I ask, still disorientated.

‘You fell on some broken glass,’ Izzy explains, squeezing my hand.  ‘I think it was your brother’s Becks bottle.’ 

‘Only you could get these bizarre injuries,’ Jazz snorts, still hiccupping.  

‘She needs to go to hospital and get it sorted out,’ Ryan tells Izzy.

‘Ok.  Jazz, will you come with us?’ Izzy asks her.

‘I’m coming too,’ Ryan says, lifting me off him and standing up.

‘No.  It's fine,’ I protest, tears pricking at my eyes as the sting turns into an itch.

‘I want to come,’ he says, still supporting me with his arm around my waist.

‘Well I don't want you to,’ I snap, getting up and walking towards the door before I burst into angry violent tears.

*                            *                            *