The Spare Bedroom: A totally heartwarming, funny and feel good romantic comedy

by Elizabeth Neep

  I reached down into the shopping bags crumpled in the far corner and pulled out a silk dress, light blue and almost invisible against the colour of the box room’s walls. Ignoring the itch of guilt shifting around my body, I proceeded to hang up a new skirt to match my blouse. Technically, my wages should be buying my ticket out of here, stockpiling that rent money until my place in this city was secure. But with Tim and Olivia as colleagues who seemed to be cut from the pages of Vogue, I knew I had to up the ante – especially for tonight.

  ‘Sam, can you please concentrate?’ Raised voices drifted into the room. ‘This is important.’

  Jamie’s insistence that pre-work wedding planning trumped Sam’s wake-up surf had no doubt hit him where it hurt. It turned out Jamie didn’t spend her days lounging around in Lycra after all; her recent rotation was piling pressure higher than the cushions in my room.

  ‘I thought we sorted this yesterday?’ My ears picked up at Sam’s reply, as my eyes stayed fixed on the outfit displayed in front of me. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look nice in front of Sam either. That was, if he was coming this evening. I had mentioned the exhibition plenty of times in passing; after all, Jamie had kindly got me my job at CreateSpace, and as far as she was concerned, it was the reason I was still in their hair. One of the reasons. But Tim had left inviting them to me and I hadn’t technically done that yet, buying time while I decided if I should. I had tried hard to make the exhibition a success, but I needed to corner Sommers to get a job they already thought I had and I didn’t want anything else to distract me; either Sam and Jamie being there, or Sam and Jamie’s refusal to be.

  ‘We did.’ Jamie’s voice reverberated against the thin box room walls, louder with each word. ‘But now two people have dropped out, which actually changes the seating plan, because we planned for them to be seated…’ Her words drifted off as she reclaimed her inside voice.

  Maybe they wouldn’t even notice the exhibition come and go. But then again, they’d probably hear about it from Tim and wonder why I hadn’t invited them along – that was, if they hadn’t heard from him already. I looked at my watch. It was still early, hours before I had to be at the gallery, but I was up now; I needed coffee.

  Stepping out of the bedroom, I prayed Tim hadn’t told them about anything else. No mysterious lunches with mysterious men. Jamie and Sam would know for a fact that I wasn’t spending time with any men other than…

  ‘Joshua?’ I walked into the kitchen-living room to see his familiar face grinning up at me from the end of the kitchen table, a mug of hot coffee clutched in his hand, his hoodie pulled over his messed-up morning hair.

  ‘Coffee?’

  He looked cute – a hint of sleep around his eyes, like the coffee hadn’t quite kicked in. I nodded and pulled out a chair beside him, accepting the mug with more appreciation than was necessary.

  ‘Sam, you were supposed to check the shared diary first. You can’t just keep booking things without asking me.’

  Joshua and I both turned our heads in the direction of Jamie’s voice as she walked in to join us in the kitchen, Sam trailing behind. Somewhere during the last month filters had fallen by the wayside. Jamie grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with coffee, passing one to Sam.

  ‘I was trying to use my initiative,’ Sam said and took a sip, raising his eyebrows at me and Joshua as Jamie reached into another cupboard for the cereals. It was a nod to yesterday’s disagreement, the one about Sam’s inability to pre-empt anything. Joshua and I exchanged a wink. He resumed his serious face before Jamie turned back around.

  ‘I know, baby, but we keep double-booking ourselves and I don’t know if I’m coming or going,’ Jamie replied, free hand on her hip. Unlike me, she didn’t have a scrap of make-up on and yet she still looked better than me, a little more tired than when we’d first met, perhaps, but still better than me. Maybe now wasn’t a good time to remind them about tonight.

  ‘It’s okay.’ Jamie sighed, softening upon seeing Sam’s sorry expression. I had been a sucker for it too. ‘Let’s have a look at the diary now,’ she continued, walking across to the sofa. Obediently, he followed suit. Joshua rolled his eyes and leaned in closer to me.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he said, taking in my silk dress and made-up face. I looked up at him, glimpsing a genuine look of admiration on his face. I savoured it as best I could while still trying to catch clipped ends of conversation from the other side of the room. ‘But a bit too… erm…’ He searched for the word, as I cast a nervous glance towards my cleavage. Too much? Not enough? ‘Bit too polished for surfing. Thought we were going to squeeze in a session before work?’

  ‘Oh shit.’ Between the exhibition, my chat with Zoe and tracking Sam and Jamie’s straining relationship, I had completely forgotten. That, and the fact that the only pre-work activity that had been on offer in recent years was breakfast.

  ‘That’s okay, we don’t have to.’ Joshua took another sip of coffee, failing to mask his disappointment. ‘You’ve got a big day after all.’ At least one person had remembered.

  ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I objected. He’d biked all the way over; I couldn’t just blow him off. ‘Let me just get changed.’

  Joshua’s bearded face broke into a smile, warm and familiar.

  ‘You guys going surfing?’ Sam lifted his head from the wedding planner to enquire across the room; all three of us could detect the disappointment in his voice.

  ‘Yeah, well, I get a slightly later start today and…’ I trailed off, noting Jamie’s intensifying stare and tightening grip around Sam’s shoulder. I was distracting him. Again.

  ‘Just a quick one, mate.’ Joshua saved me from a look that could kill. ‘Jamie said we could borrow your car for the boards, head up to Bondi.’

  ‘Oh, did she?’ Sam narrowed his eyes from us to her, pretending to be pissed off even though we all knew the only thing annoying him was that he wouldn’t be hitching a ride to the water with us.

  ‘Got a spare half hour?’ Joshua asked cheekily; he already knew the answer. Sam glanced at Jamie, sleepy-eyed but every bit as gorgeous as when she was made up.

  ‘Sorry, mate.’ Sam shook away his disappointment. ‘Wedding stuff before work.’

  I nodded in acknowledgement before bowing out of the room to get dressed, silently enjoying knowing that this time he would rather be with me.

  Joshua was heading out of the car and into the water before he’d even put the car in park, carrying both boards balanced on his head. I laughed, following suit. I folded Joshua’s rash vest over my arm, my own wetsuit tucked underneath; nobody needed to know that I’d replaced Jamie’s with one two sizes bigger.

  Without thinking, my legs walked our now well-trodden route down to Bondi Beach, my eyes scanning across the horizon to check the swell. It looked good, and I congratulated myself on not feeling scared shitless to get in, even as we pressed our feet into the damp orange sand.

  ‘Feeling good?’ Joshua flung the boards onto the shore, his svelte arm muscles straining from the weight of them. He still wouldn’t let me carry mine all that way. Standing tall, he turned his gaze towards the waves and breathed deeply, used to giving me more than a moment to reply.

  ‘Yeah, actually,’ I responded. He turned back to me in surprise. I usually took a bit of psyching up before we got started. ‘It’s just good to get out of the house.’ The words spilled out before I had time to stop them. If I really wanted to get out of the house, I could just go. It was what Jamie would want, but Sam – I could tell Sam wanted me to stay.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve noticed the tension,’ Joshua said, pulling his trademark band shirt up over his head to reveal his tanned chest. I tried to keep my eyes on his face but his bearded grin told me he’d caught me looking. Damn it. He began to pull his half-folded wetsuit up over his arms. ‘Jamie can get a bit stressed at the best of times but I guess planning a wedding and hosting and…’

  I busied myself by pulling my own wetsuit up leg by leg, avoiding
eye or ab contact. I had seen Jamie getting more on edge, but I didn’t want to think it had anything to do with my being there. Sam had said it made him more chilled; I guessed that counted for something.

  ‘Stay at a mine for a bit,’ Joshua said, making quite a big offer sound like no big deal. ‘I mean, my place is tiny, but I don’t mind you bunking up with me.’ Surely he didn’t mean with him, with him. ‘You know, get a bit of space? While your apartment gets the longest renovation known to man.’ His eyes scanned my face as if waiting for me to admit the truth. I finally turned to face him, not quite sure what he had just asked me but knowing for sure that space was not what I needed. Space had never been what I had needed.

  ‘It’s fine,’ I replied, flashing him a feigned grin of my own. ‘I’m comfortable there, and it won’t be for long now. After the exhibition opening I’ll have the head space to work out what the hell the landlord is doing!’ I laughed away the absurdity, knowing no laugh would be loud enough. Joshua lifted a strong arm to run his hand through his hair, something he did when I knew he was holding something back. He sighed deeply.

  ‘Okay then, but you have to let me help you move into your new apartment.’ He started to wade into the water until he was pushing his floating board at waist height.

  ‘Promise.’ I looked at him, knowing I had nothing tangible to back it up. Thank God I’d managed to keep the specifics of my fantasy apartment so vague, despite Joshua trying and failing to place me on the map, keen to get his hands dirty and help speed up the renovations. Sam, on the other hand, hadn’t tried, more content with having me stay.

  ‘It’ll be nice to spend a bit more time together, you know? Get out of Jamie’s hair?’

  I nodded, half listening, distracted by the water. I might be in her hair but Sam still wanted me in his and until he’d made it absolutely clear he was absolutely sure that he wanted to marry into this new life, then I was never going to be too far out of it.

  ‘And if you ever need a change of scenery,’ Joshua continued, walking towards the waves, ‘you know where I am.’

  I followed him into the water, gazing out across the pinks and blues of the morning dawn, stretching as far as the eye could see. I flung my body onto the board, starting to paddle. I was surfing in Sydney, on the morning of opening night, with Sam waiting back home, knowing he’d rather be here with us, with me – for the first time in a long time, this kind of scenery was exactly what I wanted to see.

  Chapter 24

  ‘It looks fabulous.’ Tim elongated the last word as I walked into CreateSpace. ‘Tonight’s the night!’

  The PAs had rallied and finally we had an opening night guest list to rival an old-school Taylor Swift sleepover. ‘So, the plan…’ Tim puffed out his shoulders authoritatively, giving me one of the first glimpses of the fifty-something-year-old his ID claimed him to be. ‘Olivia, you arrive at six p.m., sharp.’ Olivia nodded, though she may as well have saluted. She rocked on her heels and held onto the clipboard a little tighter. Somewhere over the last month or so I had been promoted out of the clipboard-holding role – I still wasn’t entirely sure I deserved it.

  ‘Welcome the guests, steer them into this room,’ Tim continued, throwing his arms wide against a backdrop of morning sunrises and bright blue skies. ‘Offer them champagne.’ He gestured to a long wooden table, now placed in the centre of the space. ‘Jess, you are to arrive at eight p.m.’ Olivia’s wrinkle-free face looked like it was trying to frown. The temp-help shouldn’t get a later call time than her. ‘I want you to make an entrance. Fashionably late – emphasis on the fashionable.’ I knew he was being nice, but it sounded like a threat. I reached for my phone and pulled up a photo of the outfit I was planning to wear, seeking managerial approval. He gazed at the image, his expression noncommittal. ‘You’ll handle the interviews as we agreed.’ The thought of handling the publicity still sent waves through my stomach, nervousness setting in. It was a long way from my usual position, behind the scenes. But I needed Tim worlds away from Sommers. His commitment to mystery, his Banksy-esque, Leo Todd-inspired anonymity was the only thing that would keep him out of the journalists’ paths for sure. My pulse started to race faster, heart caught in my throat as imposter syndrome hung heavy on my shoulders. Could you still blame imposter syndrome when you had knowingly created the imposter in question? ‘Unless you don’t want to?’ Tim must have noticed my hesitation. Showing the press around, being left alone with Hannah Sommers – it was petrifying and perfect at the same time.

  ‘I can do that,’ I assured Tim whilst also assuring myself.

  ‘Good.’ He nodded, as if I didn’t really have a choice. ‘I want those journalists to flock to you, for there to be a real buzz.’

  My phone vibrated in my hand, just on cue. We both looked at the screen. It was a text from Sam.

  lunch?

  I swiped the message away. After a few boozy brainstorming sessions, Tim knew drunken scraps of what was going on; that there was an ex-boyfriend on the scene and that he was no longer available. I was pretty sure his artistic imagination had filled in the elaborate affair-fuelled blanks. All bar one: that he actually knew the man and was friends with the reason he couldn’t currently be mine.

  ‘Sam?’ he asked, although I knew he had just seen it. ‘Is he coming tonight?’ Tim looked somewhat hopeful. I had figured from the way he gushed about Jamie’s fiancé that he may have a soft spot for him too. I shrugged in response; I really didn’t know.

  ‘And how about your… man?’ Tim lowered his voice so Olivia wouldn’t hear. Even though she was next to us she was already miles away. I knew he had spied the mysterious stranger standing against the wall outside on several occasions and suspected he’d also developed a fantasy crush on my fantasy man. Thank God he was too short-sighted to realise he and Sam were one and the same. ‘Invite him,’ Tim commanded, stealing the guest list clutched in Olivia’s hand.

  ‘But what if he… doesn’t come alone?’ I asked, eyes flitting to Olivia, who was still too busy to be bothered. ‘This is important to me. My… boss will be there,’ I stuttered. ‘I… don’t want to lose my focus…’

  Tim looked at me earnestly, his glasses perching on the end of his nose. He sighed and then smiled. ‘Honey, trust me, if you’re wearing what you’ve just shown me’ – he nodded to my once outfit-displaying phone – ‘the only one losing focus will be him.’

  11 September 2019 – London, England

  ‘Focus, Jessica, please.’ Devon stopped her pacing to stare me dead in the eye; thankfully I had just looked up from my phone. I’d have felt half bad if she wasn’t regurgitating yesterday’s notes verbatim and passing them off as new. I had every intention of emailing over yesterday’s and changing the date.

  ‘Are you even listening?’ she asked, walking her bright white pant suit over to sit on the other side of her grandiose desk. I could just glimpse her green Jimmy Choos below and willed myself not to become the same colour.

  ‘I am.’ I nodded. And I was. And I’d listened the first time she’d told me, yesterday.

  She cocked her head with a non-frown, which in her case equated to a smile, and began to pour herself a glass of wine. I watched her hand quiver as she filled the glass.

  ‘Oh.’ She started laughing to herself. ‘This isn’t what it looks like.’ It looked like Art Today’s editor-in-chief was drinking red wine at ten in the morning, like she had stayed out so late rubbing shoulders with whatever influencer was now in vogue that she needed a bit of hair of the dog to bluff her way through the day. ‘You know I have a Skype meeting with Sydney now, don’t you? It’s nine p.m. there and Hannah suggested wine. International networking, you know,’ Devon carried on in a way that made clear that I didn’t know, that I couldn’t possibly be privy to something as highbrow as international networking. ‘In fact, Hannah will be ready now. So, focus, Jessica.’ She pointed a manicured finger at my notepad before opening her laptop screen so that its back faced towards me, making my notetaking invi
sible to Hannah Sommers. I knew the drill. Devon was to match Hannah wine for wine, whine for whine, as I – sober as a judge fresh out of rehab – was to discreetly record Hannah’s boasts of exclusives and trends to enable Devon to play a grown-up game of ‘anything you can do, I can do better’.

  Before I could even entertain the thought of objecting, the iconic Skype bloop filled the room and Devon’s face disappeared behind the monitor. Now safely under my powers of invisibility, I pulled my phone back out to sit on the table, hidden from Devon by the screen. I flicked back to Austin’s Instagram. I hadn’t seen him since the break-up. We’d all moved on from uni anyway – I got Zoe, Sam got him – and I’d promised her I wouldn’t look back but what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. He looked to be doing well though – back in his Texan namesake, drinking, working and, by the looks of things, dating. My fingers hovered over a picture of him in a suit, arm slung around a pretty blonde, her face turned slightly to look up at him, proud of her man. I looked up from his feed to scribble Hannah’s last sentence, sung out from the screen before returning to Austin. He looked exactly where he’d always wanted to be. My fingers almost went to check his friends list, seeing if he and Sam had stayed in touch – but I wouldn’t, I couldn’t.

  I flicked away from Instagram and pulled up WhatsApp to contact Zoe:

  Hey, want to do something tonight? Bored at work x

  I watched as my message went from one tick, to two ticks, to blue ticks. Typing…