Unsuitable Men (29 page)

So I did.

When I woke up in the morning, he was gone. I wasn’t sure if I should have been grateful or sorry not to see him next to me in bed. I felt a momentary sense of outrage
that he should have left without saying goodbye, but that was replaced almost immediately with a fear that he had sneaked out as quickly as possible out of horror at finding himself in bed with me.
And then there was, above both of those, a sense of relief that at least I would be spared the possibility of a morning shag because honestly, last night had been just appalling.

I had thought my sex life with Martin was fairly pedestrian – after eleven years together it was never going to be swinging from the chandeliers every night; I could have predicted his
every move on the rare occasions we didn’t go to bed wearing pyjamas and reading our books side by side until we turned out the lights. Right hand on my right breast, crush and squeeze a
little (actually quite painful, but it was far too late to tell him so), move to left breast, then a hand on each breast, squeeze together as if trying to create one large 34F breast instead of two
34Cs, move right hand down below, fiddle for thirty seconds, cursory lick of left nipple, entry, thrust, thrust, ‘Are you nearly there?’ and then that was it. But compared to Malky,
Martin was a master of foreplay; a bedroom Baryshnikov.

I hadn’t realized it, but Malky’s lying prone on top of me fully clothed was merely the precursor to phase one of his seduction method: lying on top of me naked. Which he seemed to
believe was sufficiently erotic to drive me into a frenzy. After five minutes I had become embarrassed just lying there doing nothing – but there was nothing to respond to except the sound of
his heavy breath in my ear and all that did was make me tense myself for another loud snore. So I’d started to try to move and make encouraging noises, but Malky had tensed and hissed,
‘Stop distracting me,’ and the next thing I knew, he had moved on to phase two, the pressing his groin against mine. Although it was having no effect on me, it was evident that this
technique was working perfectly well on him.

Phase three lasted a merciful matter of seconds, and then Malky rolled off me.

‘Amazing,’ he sighed. I didn’t know how to answer, certain he couldn’t have imagined it was amazing for me. I’d hardly had time to compose my face in an expression
of interest, let alone ecstasy.

‘Amazing,’ he said again, nestling his head in the pillows and pulling the covers right up to his chin. ‘Thanks, Rory.’

Thanks? Thanks?! Before I could answer, Malky had let loose another snore, fast asleep already.

I lay staring at the ceiling as he rumbled noisily beside me. I wondered if he had used up all of his sexual energy in texting and flirtation and cider-drinking. When it came to, well, coming,
Malky had nothing left at all.

So it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to wake up and find myself alone. I rolled over to reach for the bedside table where I kept my phone – what time was it anyway? I felt
around without raising my head; my fingers negotiated a glass of water, a paperback book lying opened with the spine up, an old tissue and a magazine. But no phone. Sitting up made my head swim
horribly but I managed to quickly look on the table, and on the floor. Still no phone. I lay back on the pillows, trying not to feel sick. From downstairs I could hear the sound of the new power
shower as someone used the bathroom. If that was Percy then it must be around six. Further downstairs I could hear a door open and close, and the gently bubbling voice of Eleanor floated up to my
bedroom. With great effort I turned my head towards the window, where a faint light filtered through the thin curtains. It must still be early. Not time to get up yet. My phone was probably in my
coat pocket or something. I pulled the duvet up over my head and went back to sleep.

The house was quiet when I woke up again, and sharp blocks of bright sunlight patterned my bed, breaking through between the curtains. There were sounds from Elgin Square
outside – children playing on the swings, cars revving as they negotiated the speed bumps. I pushed the duvet away and opened one eye experimentally. The light made me wince, but my head no
longer hurt; perhaps I’d managed to sleep through the worst of the hangover. I swung my legs down to the floor and sat up, rubbing my eyes. Pulling open the curtains allowed light to flood
the room. As I stood at the window, looking down into the square, I caught sight of the tiny faraway figures of Percy and Eleanor on the corner, turning towards Clapham Old Town. I wondered where
they were off to, and together too. At least their new-found
entente
meant I would be spared their arguing over the kitchen table this morning.

I pulled on my pyjamas and dressing gown and stumbled downstairs. The door to the first-floor bathroom was closed as I descended the stairs – I could hear the sound of
The Archers
from inside, which meant Auntie Lyd was taking one of her long baths. Now that the bathrooms were finished at last, she had taken to staying in hers for hours – perhaps because it was the
only place she could escape the demands of her paying guests.

In the kitchen, Jim had dismantled the sink and stood straddling it, his front spattered with dirty water.

‘Hi,’ I grunted. It surely couldn’t be long before Jim moved on to sponge off some other family. The bathrooms were finished, the downstairs loo had been replaced, and he
seemed to have been working on the kitchen for weeks. Although I hadn’t caught him rooting around in Auntie Lyd’s belongings again, I suspected he was just making up jobs now to get
more money out of her.

‘Rory,’ said Jim, putting down his toolbox and wiping his hands on the front of his tight T-shirt. ‘I need to talk to you. Sit down.’

I was so surprised that he’d called me by my real name that I forgot to object to his peremptory command, and sat obediently on one of the kitchen chairs. I pulled my dressing gown tighter
around me and held it protectively at my neck.

‘Rory, do you know anything about the man I found leaving your house this morning carrying half the contents of your aunt’s fridge?’

‘What?’ I asked, entirely confused.

‘He seemed to know you. He said you’d told him to help himself.’ Jim stood over me with his arms folded. His eyes had narrowed into dark slits and I felt as if it had been me
who was caught sneaking out with a load of food.

‘I – I didn’t,’ I began.

‘But you did invite that man into your aunt’s house?’ demanded Jim, towering above me intimidatingly.

‘It’s my house too, you know. I can invite anyone I want back here,’ I protested. ‘Anyway, he was probably just hungry. He’s allowed to have a bit of toast; stop
overreacting.’

‘Rory,’ said Jim, sighing and running his hand through his highlighted hair. ‘Helping yourself to a bit of toast is not the same thing as loading up a carrier bag with a loaf
of bread and two pints of milk. What sort of man does that? He even had a tin of cat food in there.’

‘He’s got a dog,’ I said feebly. Malky probably thought it was the least I owed him after Mr Bits had attacked Gordon. It wasn’t as if he’d been caught taking money
out of Auntie Lyd’s purse. It wasn’t as if Malky was going to overcharge my aunt for unnecessary plumbing work. It wasn’t like he’d been found going through my aunt’s
private belongings, actually. I crossed my own arms defensively. ‘And anyway, it’s not really any of your business, Jim.’

‘I’m just looking out for you, Rory. For you and your aunt.’

‘It’s really not necessary,’ I said stiffly.

‘No. It’s not. But I can’t help worrying about you, Rory. I know you’ve got this stupid thing about unsuitable men, I get what you’re trying to do, but you need to
be careful. Don’t get yourself into dodgy situations just because you’re trying to prove something.’

‘I’m not trying to prove anything,’ I snapped.

‘Really? Seems like it to me.’

‘Why would you— No.’ I held up a hand. ‘I’m not interested in what you think, Jim. You may have my aunt fooled with your sucking up, but I know what you’re up
to. You’ve got a nerve telling me to look out for dodgy situations when you’re – you’re—’

Jim’s eyes glittered dangerously. ‘When I’m what?’

‘I don’t know exactly,’ I warned. ‘But I don’t trust you. What sort of man spends so much time hanging out with a bunch of pensioners – evenings, weekends
– without an ulterior motive? I want you to know I’m watching you. You won’t rip off Auntie Lyd on my watch.’

‘Rip her off?’ said Jim, taking a menacing step towards me. ‘You think I’m spending all this time here to rip her off?’

‘Well, why else would you have dragged this job out for months? You might have Auntie Lyd fooled, but you haven’t fooled me.’

‘And what exactly is your evidence for my great rip-off scheme?’ demanded Jim. ‘What proof do you have that I’ve done anything other than help your aunt out?’

‘For money,’ I pointed out. ‘You aren’t helping her out, you’re working here for money, actually.’

‘Of course for money, I don’t work for nothing – do you? Come on. Prove it. If you’re going to make serious allegations like that you need to be able to back them
up.’

‘I caught you looking through the kitchen drawers!’ I stood up to face him.

‘That’s it? One time I was looking for biscuits and suddenly I’m a thief? That’s all you’ve got?’

‘It’s all I need, Jim,’ I said, feeling myself beginning to shake. I didn’t need an incriminating sheaf of bank statements to know that his behaviour didn’t add up.
‘I’ve got my eye on you. Don’t think you’ll get away with it.’

Jim’s face was thunderous. He strode towards me as if he was going to take hold of my shoulders and shake me; I ducked away from him and ran up the stairs. I could hear him shouting behind
me, so I grabbed my coat from the rack in the hall, shoving my feet into a pair of Auntie Lyd’s shoes that had been left by the front door. I buttoned the coat as I ran into the square, but
when I turned back to check, there was no sign of Jim. Most likely he was panicking now he knew I was on to him. He was probably already trying to get Auntie Lyd on his side, whispering lies to her
through the bathroom door. It was like he was trying to protect his investment by driving me away.

Now that I’d flounced dramatically out of the house, I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t have any money and, feeling in my pockets, there was still no sign of my phone, so I
couldn’t have called anyone even if I’d had anyone to call. Once I would have rung Auntie Lyd if I found myself in an upsetting situation, but Jim had wormed his way into her trust, and
I honestly wasn’t sure if she would take my side against him. Although I was annoyed with Malky myself – for an unsatisfactory night and for running off without saying goodbye – I
couldn’t believe that he would have stolen food from us. Jim was so quick to judge, I bet he’d just found Malky leaving the house with a sandwich and had turned it into some great big
drama to try to alienate me from Auntie Lyd. All part of his plan, whatever his plan was.

As I stomped towards the Common I fumed with anger. Auntie Lyd’s house, once my only refuge, had turned into a place where I felt barely welcome. I’d hardly had a moment to see
Auntie Lyd alone for weeks. Jim was always there, in the way, cosying up to her, excluding me. If he was going to be a permanent fixture at Elgin Square, it was time I moved on.

Tears of self-pity sprang up in my eyes as I contemplated the alternative: moving into a shared house with strangers. Fine in your twenties, but at my age? At nearly thirty? I should have been
making a home with someone, settling down. Who had I been kidding with this unsuitable-men thing? All it had done was unsettle me. Everyone had said it would be a learning experience, but all I had
learned was that I yearned for a suitable man. One who would be kind and reliable. Within ten years of my age. And who wouldn’t steal the food from my aunt’s house. I knew there would
have to be compromises, but it was time to acknowledge that I was not a girl who craved exciting adventure. I could leave that to other girls. It was time to give up the unsuitable men and get on
with finding one who was suitable.

Scowling at the ground while pacing my angry strides meant I hadn’t taken note of how far I’d walked. When I looked up I saw that my steps had taken me to one of the quiet ponds at
the top of the Common, ringed by trees that hushed the sound of the constant traffic. On an island in the middle of the pond primroses and crocuses spread under the trees, protected from walkers
and dogs. A sign ambitiously referred to ‘the lake’ and advised of the wildlife that might be seen. I caught sight of a heron, folded up like a newspaper, sitting motionless on a branch
while a family of ducklings swam under it. Looking past the birds, I stared into the murky water as if I might scry a more positive future for myself in its depths.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my arm and I flinched. I was so certain it would be Jim, having followed me out of Auntie Lyd’s house, that for a moment I just stared blankly at the couple who
stood smiling expectantly next to me.

‘Rory?’ said the woman. ‘Rory, it’s Anna. How are you?’ She tilted her head to one side with concern and I had a horrible realization of how insane I must look to
her, unmade up, hair all over the place, wearing a coat over my pyjamas and dressing gown in public in the middle of the day.

She beamed next to her husband, her cheeks shining. I had been at their wedding six months ago, hand in hand with Martin, wondering if we would be next. It felt like a lifetime ago.

‘Ah, hi, Rory,’ said Max, clearing his throat. ‘Good to see you. Sorry we’ve been out of touch.’ He shuffled his feet and looked to Anna for reassurance.

‘We’ve been a bit preoccupied,’ she confided, wrapping her arm around Max’s waist. ‘Rory, we’re having a baby.’

The tears that I had only just suppressed came dangerously close to the surface again. In truth I was happy for them both, but I was terrified they would report my deranged appearance and my
tears at their news to Martin, who would no doubt read something far worse into them. I should have been looking amazing, gorgeous, pulled together. Why hadn’t they bumped into me when I was
flirting in the pub garden with Malky last night, confident and laughing?