by Naomi Joy
Perhaps he’d wanted me to find out.
Perhaps they’d both been fucking with me this entire time.
29
Ava
The red wine kept spreading, its pool of damage continuing to gain new ground, ensuring the maximum possible impact.
I wondered how long she’d been stood there, watching us, before she’d dropped the bottle and fled.
‘I guess our secret is out,’ Josh said as he kissed my neck and laughed nervously.
I felt ill.
No one was supposed to find out about us. Not yet.
30
Jade
I ran out of the store room, the lights only detecting my motion when it was too late, illuminating the path I’d already trodden through the empty blackness of the corridor. I kept running, up the stairs and out through the double entrance doors of the building, not bothering to pick up my bag from upstairs, just one thing on my mind: home.
Densely packed bodies filled each carriage and the noise and warmth was stifling. It wasn’t a particularly hot day today, but it felt humid and the air was close and sticky. Any other day and I would have waited for the next train but today there was no choice. A man in a pinstripe navy suit bore the brunt of my urgency and I practically knocked him off his feet as I forced my way on board. ‘Easy love!’ He gave me a horrible look. I didn’t meet his eyes, I didn’t apologise, I just turned round and pressed my head against the tube door praying the journey would be over soon.
I kept my head down as I hurried along the platform at Denmark Hill, my short-sleeve dress exposing my pasty limbs, entirely out of place among the glowing tans of everyone surrounding me. I started to cry: just as I thought we’d settled our differences, just as I thought we’d levelled the playing field, she was at it again and now we were back to square one. She’d taken David first, and now Josh. My Josh. A low growl erupted from within me as I thought about how disgusting she was. She’d do anything to get ahead. A man edged away from me as a noise that started deep in my gut gained in volume. People were staring now, they thought I was a freak, and I broke out into a run when we reached my stop. I jogged like a woman possessed, barely stopping for a break and, eventually, closed in on my front door. It was then that I realised: I didn’t have my bag. Or my keys. I cried as I threw myself against the wood that separated me from inside and my shoulder crippled under the pressure, causing me to sink down. I beat my fists against the door, crying for someone to open up.
But no one was there.
I couldn’t go back to the office, obviously, and I quickly played through a scenario where I returned, battered and freezing as the double doors opened in front of me. The entire bar area would fall silent, eyes firing from all angles. They already knew. I’d grab my things, the only noise my sniffling and scuffling, like a rat on the tube tracks at night, the office doors barely closing behind me before a raucous cackle broke out and people started talking about me in shrieking staccato.
The thought knocked the wind out of me.
Instead, I formed a rash plan. I raced to the bin, picked up the black sack I’d stuffed full of the week’s decaying meals and emptied it out onto the pavement. The smell was horrific: fishy, mouldy, cheesy. It smelt like death, honestly, but I didn’t care, I breathed it in, focused only on my plan. I wrapped my left arm in the bin liner, round and round, the sticky, slimy bin juices rubbing against my skin, and stood in front of the ground floor windows. I thought of Ava’s puppet-doll grin when I’d discovered her and, at that moment, lifted my arm above my head, then brought it down with monstrous force, crashing it against the window in one fell swoop. The glass smashed, giving way too easily, and I peeled my arm back, now covered in jagged shards, blood oozing from various points. I picked out the wedges one by one, enjoying the pain, then ripped the bin bag from my arm. I’d made a big enough hole that I was able to climb in through the window, but my dress snagged on the glass as I ambled through the gap, cutting me again as it did so, my legs not faring much better as I pushed my way inside: the world’s worst cat burglar.
The streets of SE5 didn’t blink an eye, it was one of the few places in London where a crazy woman breaking noisily into a ground-floor flat would pass without comment.
‘What on earth?’
My housemate appeared in the lounge. Shock, horror, outrage!
‘I thought you were a burglar! Why did you break the bloody window down?’
I didn’t say anything to her. I had nothing to say. My whole world had come crashing down and nothing mattered any more. Everything I’d wished for, everything I was so excited about had vanished – in an instant – and if I hadn’t caught them, I would still be living the lie he’d had me believe. I’d seen them together, heard them together, the smell of the heady Merlot filling the scene as it had smashed to the floor. What was it with me and red wine? Like a spectre of bad luck that accompanied my worst memories. I’d tasted the dryness of the air as some other-worldly presence had grabbed at my voice box and silenced me. I’d touched the cool metal of the door handle as I’d fled. This memory would never leave me, not now it was stained across each of my senses. I lay down amongst the broken glass underneath the window without curtains, cut from head to toe, stinking and disgusting, pain coursing through my veins.
31
Ava
I first realised I liked Josh one freezing February night earlier this year. I’d been working late just to avoid going home, drinking coffee to keep me alert, watching the snow fall outside, the tap-tap-tap of my fingernails on the keyboard the only sound. My head had still been full of grief and guilt following Olivia’s untimely death and Charlie had been bombarding me with texts all day. At first he’d wanted to apologise for throwing the dinner I’d made last night in the bin just as I’d been about to serve, then, when being soft didn’t work, his tone had changed.
Don’t bother coming home tonight. None of your things will be here in the morning.
He’d been sending more and more threats like that and I was growing sick of them, and him. Josh had been working late that night too, he’d recently returned to the agency following Olivia’s overdose, and had decamped from his desk to my office when everyone else had gone home for the night. We’d grown closer during his time off, comforting each other over text, sharing stories about Olivia, and, as soon as he’d returned, it was like we were magnets. He’d stretched out across the black sofa in my office that night, his frame taking up most of it, even the stark overhead spotlights unable to expose a flaw in his beautiful face. He’d summoned me over to watch something on his laptop, some stupid video, and we’d sat side-by-side, our bodies touching gently together. ‘You have the cutest laugh.’ That’s what he’d said to me before I’d bitten my thumb between my teeth and feigned some protestations to the contrary. It hadn’t been difficult, or awkward, he’d just slowly, but purposefully, leaned in, bringing his hand underneath my chin, pulling us closer together as if he had me on a string and kissed me softly on the cheek. Then he’d walked me to the tube, pulling our hoods right over our faces so we wouldn’t be recognised, walking through the snowy streets hand in hand, glove in glove, like we had nothing to hide. He knew from the outset that things weren’t going to be straightforward between us and, sure enough, it hadn’t been easy even before David had burst in and complicated things.
My intention had been to keep things simple. I didn’t tell Josh everything I was going through so that with him I could just be me, the me I was before Charlie had twisted and tortured me out of shape. And doing that brought feelings out of me I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again: freedom, confidence, levity and love. When I was with him it was as though he’d taken all the bitterness that had built inside me and replaced it with candy floss. Even today, at my lowest ebb, just being near him made me feel better. I was a kid at a fairground and I’d won the biggest, brightest, cuddliest teddy bear. He’d agreed it was a good idea to keep our relationship low-key, at least until things settled down with Charl
ie, until the Team Head had been announced, until I’d got my own place, and until we’d told David. He didn’t mind, he was happy to take things at my pace. So, I hadn’t told Josh all the gory details about Charlie’s abuse. I hadn’t told Josh about Charlie’s ‘proposal’. I hadn’t told Josh about the night of the summer party. I hadn’t told Josh that I suspected David thought of me as more than just a friend. I hadn’t told Josh that David had offered me the Team Head role as though I were being inducted into the top level of his mafia club. Maybe I was. And I hadn’t told Josh how desperate things were, nor how much I needed David’s financial help. Instead, I’d made my living arrangements seem very casual – ‘David’s offered me Olivia’s place while I sort myself out, it’s just for a few weeks, isn’t that kind of him?’
I’d made our relationship appear platonic, paternal and mutual – ‘David’s been a rock for me, really, he’s helped a lot.’
After waking up with David following the summer party, I hadn’t known what to do. I’d almost convinced myself that I must have done something wrong and therefore had no right to throw around accusations I couldn’t definitively prove. David was Josh’s only living relative: saying anything against him would be devastating. That’s why I’d kept quiet.
But now Jade knew about us and the rumours would start soon afterwards. I had to talk to her again, explain myself… if that was even possible. She’d be devastated. And then I’d have to talk to David.
I felt physically sick about the prospect of coming clean.
This was all such a mess.
The vague plan I’d had in my head had been so different and I wondered if there was any chance of us getting there now. Would we ever just be Josh and Ava?
Part of me wasn’t willing to give up on the dream, I wasn’t ready: he was such a brilliantly happy, hilarious, hunky human and I loved him. And he loved me.
32
Jade
My dry eyes fluttered a few times, the world a blur before me. Glass crunched under my weight as I rolled over onto my side. I stank, but I didn’t care. I was frozen, my hands blue from sleeping next to an open window, yet I felt nothing. All I wanted was wine. My wrists braced as glass cut into the palms of my hands and I pushed myself upright. I crawled on my hands and knees like a sick family cat to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge. The clock on the oven ticked four minutes past six.
I heard the clip-clop of heels striking wood. My housemate flew into the kitchen.
‘Really?’
I didn’t look at her, just took the wine, a handful of pills, and made my way back to the lounge. I took the blanket I’d never washed from the sofa, lay down on the floor and closed my eyes to shut her out.
‘You can’t do this to yourself, Jade. You need to face the music. So you found out the guy you like is an asshole? Well then, welcome to the real world.’
Shut up.
‘He was technically single.’
Shut up.
I brought the blanket up over my face, the odour of dust surrounding me, sick of this, sick of her, sick of Josh. Sick of everything and everyone. Bubbles burbled deep in my stomach.
‘Whatever happened, wine at six in the morning is not the answer, not going to work is not the answer. Get up, get in the shower, clean up this mess and get out!’
I lost it. I screamed using all the firepower left in my body. Screaming over everything she said, screaming over her judgmental stare, screaming over my pain, through the cold. When I had nothing left and my body gave in, I sank back onto the floor, wiping the spittle away that had lashed out with my roar. She stood in the corner of the room, snarling. Why wouldn’t she just leave? I picked up the bottle, unscrewed the cap and stared at her as I downed a third of it in one go. That’s what I think of your fucking advice.
My phone chimed.
Where did you go last night?
33
Ava
We’re still in the early days of our relationship, the early, early days. The kind you should look back on when you’re tired and old and grumpy and fantasise about returning to. Josh, at least, was living in the rose-tinted world of young love and, if it weren’t for the obvious, I’d be right there with him, living the kind of happiness only families in cereal commercials seem to achieve. Sometimes, for one soaring, blissful minute, I’d be able to hit the mute button on our relationship remote control and eliminate all the unnecessary noise and, in that moment, my only focus would be on him, our love, our future. I lived for those quiet moments.
We lay together now, flushed flesh on crisp cotton, and I stared at him as he dozed beside me. After David’s threats about honesty and integrity I’d felt apprehensive about returning to Olivia’s place tonight and, when Josh had asked me to stay over at his, I’d accepted. I wished I could stay here every night. I wished I could make this bubble last.
I decided I’d tell David I’d gone back to be with my parents for the evening – that I’d completely forgotten it was my mum’s birthday and that I’d had to head home at the last minute. I knew lying to him wasn’t the smartest idea but it was temporary, just until I could figure out my next move.
I delicately traced a line with my finger from the base of Josh’s neck, following the ripple of each vertebrae along his strong, smooth spine. He wriggled a little then grabbed my hand, like a snake that had snapped its jaws over a mouse, and held me down.
‘What have I told you about tickling me while I’m sleeping?’ He hated it when I stroked him, but I couldn’t help it! He was so perfect!
‘What does today have in store for you, beautiful?’ His face was sleepy but his husky-blue eyes sparkled with life.
‘Hmm, let’s see: Jade is doing everything possible to derail the AthLuxe launch, Kai’s one mistake away from firing us all, and David currently has no idea how close we are to losing his biggest new client.’
I nuzzled my face into Josh’s neck and let the warmth from his body seep into mine. I didn’t want to go to work, I just wanted to forget about everything and lie here with him all day long.
‘Pretty bad, isn’t it? Jade’s turned into a nightmare, it’s like she’s a different person.’ He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms round me. ‘We’ll be OK, Ava, as long as we have each other.’
I shut out the noise and bathed in his words.
‘I should talk to her today,’ he said reluctantly.
I groaned. ‘Do you want me to come?’
‘I think it’s better if I speak to her alone, then she won’t feel so ganged up on, you know?’
‘Do you think she’ll tell Georgette? If she does, half the office will know by lunchtime.’
He interlocked my fingers with his and laughed as if our mistake was nothing more than a blip, a blunder, a boo-boo.
‘I’m sorry. This is all my fault for not being able to control myself at work. I just can’t resist—’ He brought me on top of him, manipulating my body with little effort, my legs either side of his hips. Then he pushed the chunk of my hair that had fallen in front of my face behind my ear. I shivered. It reminded me of David. It reminded me how little Josh knew.
‘We should tell David sooner rather than later,’ he said, reading my mind, sending the light and love and laughter from his bedroom, replacing it with unwelcomed reality.
‘Maybe we should do it tomorrow? I know you have that meeting in Croydon today.’
‘Perfect,’ he answered.
And, just like that, another secret wedged itself between us. Another lie, another riddle I’d spun to survive but wasn’t sure how to resolve. I had to get to David before Josh, but I momentarily lost myself in the thought of simply running away, putting millions of miles between myself and London and W&SP’s poisonous hive.
34
Jade
The dregs of beer, flat and foamy, made their way down my dehydrated throat. Malty and warm, the taste of desperation, reminding me of my first experience using alcohol for escapism. In the school holidays, wh
en I was back at home and the house was sleeping, I would sneak downstairs late at night and steal a couple of cans from my parents’ entertaining stash. I’d bring them upstairs to my room and drink alone, the alcohol helping me get through those six long, lonely weeks. I’d never been very good at making friends. My parents chalked the drinking up to a ‘teenage phase’ and never considered there was anything wrong with me: they didn’t have any friends, either.
I went to take another sip of my breakfast as I lay on the sofa – more often my bed than the dingy double upstairs – hopeful, but there wasn’t a drop left. Saved from myself, just as well, this was no time for drunken escapism: I needed to plan, I needed to plot. I dropped the empty shell on the floor and its aluminium exterior clanged against its peers before settling in place on the floor amongst the myriad of cans and cigarette packets.
My rage was incandescent. Not only had Josh lied to me, played me all along, but he’d reduced me to a horrific sexy-photo-taking idiot like so many other clueless, brainless people who go too far and do things they don’t want to do to win men over and even though I’d done all of that for him, Ava was still on top. He’d still chosen her. She could have him. That cheating, low-life, scumbag, chinless, prick.