The Plus One Pact

by MacIntosh, Portia

  I nod.

  ‘So, what, does he not feel the same?’ he asks.

  I shrug.

  ‘I’m not sure he feels as strongly as I do,’ I say. It feels so weird, to be confiding in my ex about other men – especially an ex like Lloyd, who had jealousy issues.

  ‘Well, more fool him then, because look at you. You’re an amazing lady, Cara Brooks, and you look even better now than you used to. If he doesn’t realise that, forget about him, OK?’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say with a smile. ‘It’s nice to be able to talk to you about these things.’

  ‘It’s nice to be here for you,’ he says. ‘I’ve done a lot of growing up since we broke up, and I’m sorry that I drove you to end things. I take full responsibility.’

  ‘It’s just nice to be on nice terms,’ I reply.

  Lloyd and I both reach for the scissors at the same time, our hands bumping clumsily over the table.

  ‘Oh, you go first,’ I say.

  ‘No, after you,’ he insists.

  ‘Thanks.’

  It really is nice to be civil with one another; it’s going to make tomorrow go much easier, that’s for sure. I still haven’t heard from Millsy so I’m pretty sure he isn’t coming. Thankfully I have an excuse in place now.

  At least it isn't going to be like being trapped in a nightmare with my crazy ex and my angry relatives any more. It’s almost as if things have completely reset. Shame really, I was starting to like the new me.

  31

  You know that bit during a wedding ceremony where the person marrying the happy couple asks if anyone knows any reason why this man and woman shouldn’t be married? And you know how no one else says anything, unless it’s in the movies, and it’s usually some grand gesture so that true love can take its course, or it’s some naff relative making a joke – something absolutely no one would do in real life?

  Everything was going perfectly fine with Flora and Tommy’s ceremony. I was just sitting in my seat, in my gorgeous purple dress – not standing at the front of the room in a dress I couldn’t fit my boobs in – when the official asked that question, and we all heard the door at the back of the room being flung open.

  Naturally everyone gasped and turned around to see who was turning up to object, storming in just in time.

  ‘Oh, shi…’ Millsy blurted as he barged in. He stopped himself just in time to not fully commit to swearing, but somehow it felt as if the damage was done.

  I couldn’t help but snigger to myself. If I were Tommy, I’d be shitting myself if someone as gorgeous as Millsy burst through the doors, looking dapper in a suit, at my wedding, right at the moment when it was time for people to speak now or forever hold their peace.

  ‘Sorry I'm late,’ he told the room. ‘Please, go on.’

  He sat down on the first available chair, sinking low into his seat.

  He looked so amazing in a black suit with a pinky-purple tie. He also looked really bloody embarrassed.

  ‘Who is that?’ Flora asked Tommy. He shrugged.

  When the ceremony was over I turned around to see that Millsy had disappeared. I wondered if perhaps he might have changed his mind about coming, but as soon as we were all manoeuvred into the room where the reception is taking place, we bumped into each other.

  Millsy and I haven’t actually spoken since Ruby’s wedding, so I can’t say he didn’t take my request for space seriously, but with that in mind I definitely didn’t think he would turn up today. I hoped he would. I’ve been hoping all week. But the more time passed, the bigger the space between us felt. Suddenly he seemed too far away for me to reach out to.

  And now here we are, face to face, both of us waiting for the other person to say something.

  ‘Hi,’ Millsy eventually says with a smile.

  ‘Hi,’ I reply, feeling my own cheeks pull into a smile. I’m not only pleased he turned up to the wedding, I’m just genuinely pleased to see him.

  'How are—?’

  ‘Are you—?’

  We both speak at the same time, talking over each other, both stopping at the same time to let the other speak.

  ‘You OK?’ he asks me.

  I nod.

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yeah, you know,’ he replies. And I absolutely do. I’ve really missed him this past week.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if everyone could take their seats,’ my auntie's voice splutters out through the speakers, complete with feedback. ‘The seating plan is on the wall by the entrance.’

  ‘That woman shouldn’t have access to a microphone,’ I say to Millsy, right as Lloyd rocks up alongside us.

  In today’s episode of You Could Not Make This Shit Up, I have found myself standing in between Lloyd and Millsy, the two of them looking each other up and down. Not only that, but the seating plan says I’ll be sitting between them at the table too.

  That’s where I am now, waiting for my main course, after nearly an hour of polite conversation between everyone on the table.

  In an interesting twist of events, my mum, who is usually Lloyd’s biggest fan, is mostly chatting with Millsy. My dad is too, chatting about rugby league with him. With Lloyd clearly feeling a bit pushed out I’ve done my best to keep chatting with him. Millsy and I are yet to chat one-on-one.

  Our main-course plates are placed down in front of us. I haven’t really eaten much today so I’m absolutely starving. I’ve been so looking forward to this steak but, when it arrives, I’m disappointed to see it covered in mushrooms.

  ‘Ergh, mushrooms,’ I blurt. ‘Why do people ruin food with mushrooms?’

  ‘They barely taste of anything,’ Millsy points out.

  ‘You can’t say anything,’ I tell him. ‘I know you’re not going to eat those parsnips.’

  ‘They’re just so…’ Millsy pulls a face and chews the air. He doesn’t look happy. ‘You know what I mean?’

  ‘You want my mushrooms?’ I ask. ‘And I’ll eat your parsnips?’

  ‘You’ve got yourself a deal,’ he replies. ‘That’s the best thing about you, Cara. I get so many bonus mushrooms when we eat together.’

  ‘She has far greater qualities than that,’ Lloyd insists.

  I frown at him, puzzled. Why is he butting in?

  ‘I was just joking, buddy, stand down,’ Millsy says.

  ‘Would you like my parsnips too, Cara?’ Lloyd asks.

  ‘Oh, it’s OK, you like them, don’t you?’ I say. ‘I’ve got plenty with these ones, thanks.’

  ‘He’ll be offering you his jacket to walk on next,’ Millsy says under his breath.

  ‘Anyway, how was LA?’ I ask him, changing the subject.

  ‘It was really good,’ he replies. ‘I wish you could have come with me. The audition went well – in fact, it sounds like a sure thing.’

  ‘Aw, that’s great,’ I tell him. ‘You really deserve it.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘I had one of the casting people completely charmed. You probably helped me in a way. She was talking about how she was going to a gender-reveal party later that day and, I hope you don’t mind, I told her about our drama.’

  ‘What drama?’ my mum asks curiously.

  ‘Oh, God, don’t tell my mum.’ I laugh. ‘She’ll ban me from all family parties.’

  ‘Oh, go on, tell me,’ she insists. ‘You’ll tell me, won’t you, Joe?’

  ‘Come on, let me tell your mum,’ he says. ‘She’ll find it hilarious.’

  ‘She doesn’t want you to,’ Lloyd says angrily.

  Everyone just stares at him.

  ‘Erm, it’s OK,’ I tell him, before turning back to Millsy. ‘Go on, tell them.’

  ‘OK, so, we were at my sister Fran’s gender-reveal party, and it was our job to bring the cake. So we get this awesome cake and we set it down on the table and leave it there to join the party. Later, when we went back to get it, I guess Cara was a bit distracted and she just opened the first box she saw. It was the gender-reveal box and before we knew what was happening,
with no time to stop it, we saw the blue balloon fly off towards the sky.’

  ‘Oh my God, no,’ my mum says, absolutely captivated. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Well, we managed to find a balloon in Millsy’s parents’ kitchen drawer,' I reply.

  'My stepmum keeps them for emergencies,’ Millsy adds. ‘I’d always wondered what kind of emergency required a balloon.’

  ‘Except the only balloons she had were… white,’ I continue, pausing for dramatic effect.

  ‘What did you do?’ Oliver asks, suddenly interested in what we’re talking about.

  ‘I blew one up, I grabbed a blue pen, I wrote “It’s a boy” on it, and I put it back in the box.’

  ‘Did people find out?’ my mum asks.

  ‘No one knows it was us,’ he says. ‘I think my sister wrote a letter of complaint to the company she got it from.’

  ‘That’s terribly unethical,’ Lloyd says.

  ‘Well, what would you have done?’ Millsy asks him. ‘I didn’t want Cara getting in trouble or feeling bad. We’ve always got each other’s backs. When I nearly killed my grandma’s dog it was Cara who was there to help me. Did you know she can pick padlocks?’

  ‘I did,’ my mum says, unamused. ‘And yet she still can’t fold hospital corners when she’s making a bed.’

  ‘I don’t even know what they are,’ I confess with a laugh.

  ‘Go on, then, lad, tell us how you nearly killed this dog,’ my dad insists.

  Now that we’re talking about us, Millsy and I are getting on just fine. Just as things were before the sex-cident. It’s nice. I’m just not sure I can keep this up forever.

  Millsy tells him the story in that charming, animated way he talks. He’s always been amazing at commanding an audience. For a while I just watch him. It’s crazy, how much I’ve missed him. But do I miss him so much that I would be willing to settle for being just friends? I don’t know if I could handle that.

  We get through dinner, we survive sitting through the speeches, and then it’s time for the bride and groom to enjoy their first dance. Flora and Tommy take to the floor and slow-dance to Elton John’s ‘Your Song’. I thought Flora might have been the type to take dance classes, to do something fancy, but they’re just happily dancing together in the most normal way. I like that. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how things look, it only matters how they feel.

  By the time everyone else is joining them on the dance floor I get this heavy feeling in my heart.

  ‘Fancy a dance?’ Millsy asks. He asks so casually, as if it’s no skin off his nose if I say yes or I say no.

  ‘Erm,’ Lloyd starts, but I don’t let him finish.

  ‘I’d love to,’ I reply.

  Millsy takes me by the hand and leads me to the dance floor. He finds us a space and wraps his arms around my waist. I hook my arms around his neck, exhaling deeply, relaxing into his embrace.

  ‘Another fantastic dress,’ he tells me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I reply. ‘It’s one of the ones you talked me into buying.’

  ‘I know,’ he says. ‘I have excellent taste.’

  Millsy steers me in a particular direction, so I can look back at our table.

  ‘Your ex is glaring daggers into me,’ he says.

  ‘He doesn’t look happy at all, does he?’ I reply. ‘I think that might be my fault. I told him some stuff about us. We’ve been talking, it’s been nice. He seems really mature now.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of getting back with him, are you?’ Millsy asks, moving away from me just a little so that he can look into my eyes.

  ‘Come on, Millsy. You don’t care,’ I remind him.

  ‘Of course, I care,’ he replies. ‘Why would you think I don’t care?’

  ‘I really don’t want to get into this here,’ I say.

  ‘I know, but we need to talk about this at some point. If not now, then when? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much stuff you took to your mum and dad’s while I was away.’

  ‘I’m not doing this here, on the dance floor, at my cousin’s wedding,’ I tell him. ‘Come on, let’s step out.’

  I grab Millsy by the hand and lead him out of the reception room, to the quiet sitting area outside where the toilets are.

  ‘Erm, what’s going on?’ I hear Lloyd call after us.

  ‘It’s fine, Lloyd, just give us a minute,’ I say.

  ‘Are the two of you sneaking off together? You tell me that he doesn’t feel the same way about you as you feel about him and then, what, because he dances with you, you’re sneaking off to the toilets with him?’ Lloyd asks accusingly, as though he has any right.

  ‘Holy shit,’ Millsy says. ‘He’s even more intense than you said he was.’

  ‘Wow,’ is about all I can say. ‘I just… wow.’

  ‘Well, what else are you going to be doing?’ Lloyd asks.

  ‘Talking,’ I say to him very clearly and very slowly. ‘You haven’t changed at all, have you? Practically negging me the day you got here, swooping in to help me yesterday, being really terrifyingly intense right now.’

  ‘Why do you always push me away?’ Lloyd asks. ‘I’m the perfect person for you. We didn’t have a problem with us, it was the distance that was a problem – but I'm here now, and I still love you. And I think you might still love me. This guy is just your rebound. I know you.’

  ‘You don’t know me at all,’ I say. ‘If you knew me you’d know how uncomfortable you’re making me.’

  ‘I know that The Shining is your favourite book. I know that you love any cocktail with rum in it. I know that gerbera daisies make you smile – remember how I always used to bring you bunches? You loved them,’ Lloyd says.

  Millsy sniggers.

  ‘What?’ Lloyd asks him.

  ‘Mate, you don’t know her at all,’ he tells him.

  ‘And you do, huh?’

  ‘I do,’ Millsy says confidently. ‘The Shining isn’t her favourite book, it’s her favourite movie – she likes the ambiguity of the movie and the way it taps into her own fears. I know that she hates rum. She got too drunk on it one time in, frankly, the most boring story about a person getting drunk I have ever heard in my life. And she doesn’t like flowers, she hates flowers. It makes her sad when they die. And when she gets married she’s going to have a plant in her pocket, and I don’t know if I’ll be lucky enough to be there, but it would be a huge mistake if you’re there because you clearly don’t know her at all.’

  I feel my lips part as my jaw literally drops, just a little. We’ve only known each other for a summer but I feel as if Millsy knows me inside and out. And what he said about when I get married, well, at least I know that, after everything, he still wants to be in my life. I don’t think I could live without him in it either. And he’s definitely right about Lloyd. He doesn’t know me at all, if he thinks I’m in love with him. He really hasn’t changed a bit on the inside.

  Lloyd, clearly bested by Millsy in a way he can’t possibly argue with, lashes out at Millsy, hitting him in the face.

  ‘Lloyd, what the hell?’ I shriek. I’ve never seen him hit anyone before. I glance around to look for witnesses but it’s just the three of us. I am horrified.

  ‘Not the fucking face,’ Millsy says. ‘Why do people always go for the face? I’m on the verge of landing my first movie job and this clown hits me in the fucking face.’

  He places his hand over his cheek to check the damage.

  ‘Lucky you hit like a child,’ Millsy points out.

  ‘OK, Lloyd, you need to leave.’

  ‘Gladly,’ he says. ‘You’re not even worth it.’

  Lloyd storms off in the direction of the exit, not the reception. I don’t know where he's going; all of his stuff is still at my parents’ place. I suppose he’ll have to collect it at some point. I think I’ll keep the hell away.

  ‘That’s fair,’ I tell Millsy once we’re alone. ‘I’m probably not worth travelling all the way from Somerset for, infiltrating my family, st
arting on a man who could clearly beat the shit out of anyone if he wasn’t so scared about damaging his face… Is it OK?’

  ‘I’m lucky he slapped me instead of punching me,’ Millsy says. ‘Pathetic.’

  ‘At least the part you’re up for is mocap,’ I remind him. ‘But I am really sorry that he hit you. And do let me remind you that I absolutely didn’t invite him here.’

  Standing just outside the reception room, we’re all alone, away from the excitement of the wedding, without Lloyd breathing down our necks. It’s just us now. Just like it used to be. Except things can never really go back to how they used to be, can they?

  Millsy runs his tongue across the front of his teeth, checking for damage.

  ‘Does this mean you owe your cousin a slap?’ he jokes.

  ‘Oh, I would, but I’m back in her good books because I helped out with wedding stuff. Why don’t I just give you my horrible portrait of her and we’ll call it even?’

  ‘Fair enough,’ he says with a smile.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ I tell him. ‘I didn’t think you would.’

  Millsy shrugs it off.

  ‘And I think you might have proposed to me, somewhere in the middle of what you said to Lloyd,’ I tease jokily.

  ‘That wasn’t what that was,’ he says with a laugh. ‘But I did hear the part where he said that you don’t feel the same way about me as I do about you and, honestly, that’s fine. I miss you. I don’t care if you want to be just friends, I just care that you’re in my life.’

  ‘That’s all well and good but – wait, what?’

  I’m caught off guard by his words. I can’t help but cock my head like a dog confused by a high-pitched noise.

  ‘If you just want to be friends that’s fine by me,’ he says. ‘So long as you’re in my life.’

  ‘You want to be just friends,’ I tell him.

  ‘No, you do,’ he replies.

  ‘Wait, what? Let’s just rewind a second. You’re Joe “Millsy” Mills. Ladies’ man. Doesn’t settle down. Sleeps with anything with a pulse, as the story goes.’

  ‘Do you really believe all that?’ he asks me.

  ‘Are you telling me that’s not true?’