The One Who's Not the One: A feel-good, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

by Keris Stainton

  Cat noticed the muscles moving under his white T-shirt and looked down at the ground instead; she really didn’t want to trip over any of the health and safety hazards that seemed to be round every corner.

  ‘I’ve only been here just under six months,’ Harvey continued. ‘I worked in the Richmond Theatre before. You’ve been there, right?’

  Cat nodded. She and Sam had gone with his parents after dinner by the side of the river. It had been one of Cat’s all-time favourite nights.

  ‘So I started there as a trainee lighting tech,’ Harvey said. ‘And then I saw this job advertised and… I was happy there, but it was always my dream to work in the West End.’

  ‘I never knew that,’ Cat said. Although there wasn’t really any reason why she would have done. While she and Sam were together, she and Harvey had always got on well, but they never exactly had deep and meaningful conversations. Except that one night in the garden that Cat wasn’t going to think about right now.

  They followed Harvey up a couple of flights of narrow stairs and onto a catwalk above the small auditorium.

  ‘Woah!’ Arnold said, his eyes wide. He backed up towards the wall, but Harvey said, ‘Do you want to go out there?’

  The lights were arranged above a mesh net over the auditorium.

  ‘You can go out on it?’ Cat asked. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘We have to,’ Harvey said. ‘To work the lights.’

  He explained to them how they could move the lighting around depending on the requirements of different shows, and as he talked, he stepped out onto the net. Cat gasped as it dipped under his weight, but watched in awe as he ducked under lights, moving them along the metal construction, the muscles shifting in his back.

  ‘Want to come out here?’ he asked Arnold, holding out his hand.

  Arnold shook his head.

  ‘You sure?’ Cat asked him.

  ‘You go first,’ Arnold told her.

  Shit. She really didn’t want to.

  ‘I don’t think you can have two grown-ups out there at the same time,’ she told Arnold.

  ‘You can.’ Harvey shrugged. ‘I think the limit’s meant to be four, but we’ve had six out before now. Two is fine.’ He held his hand out to Cat. ‘You up for it?’

  Cat glanced down at Arnold and the expression on his face confirmed that he actually did want to do it; he just didn’t quite trust Harvey enough yet. But he trusted Cat. Damn.

  Stepping up to the edge of the metal frame, she reached out for Harvey with one hand, while keeping her other on the frame. Harvey’s warm hand engulfed hers and for a second she had a vision of herself plummeting through the mesh, with Harvey’s hold on her hand the only thing preventing her from certain death. She felt Harvey squeeze her fingers and he said, ‘You want to come out further? Let go of the…’

  Cat peeled her other hand away and gasped as she felt the net dip again. She knew she was holding Harvey’s hand extremely tight, but there was no way she was going to let go.

  She turned to look at Arnold, plastering a bright smile on her face. ‘Want to come out here? It’s really cool.’

  Arnold took a tentative step towards Cat. She reached for his hand and steered him out onto the mesh.

  ‘You can jump,’ Harvey said, bending his knees.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ Cat said through gritted teeth.

  Harvey laughed and bumped her with his shoulder. And they were still holding hands. She should probably let go. She didn’t want to. Harvey showed Arnold some lighting effects and Cat was still holding his hand. He told Arnold how the lights could be detached completely and moved to different parts of the theatre and Cat was still holding his hand. He took a photo of Arnold on his phone and Cat was still holding his hand. When they finally stepped off the mesh and back onto solid ground, Cat’s knees felt wobbly. Harvey squeezed her fingers and then let go.

  ‘Want to go on the stage?’ Harvey asked Arnold.

  Arnold nodded, his eyes bright with anticipation.

  They followed Harvey back down the stairs, him describing everything they were seeing and telling them little anecdotes the entire way and then they were in the auditorium and following him out into the middle of the stage. Cat looked out at the seats stretching up towards the roof.

  ‘You see the mesh?’ Harvey asked Arnold, pointing. ‘We were just standing up there.’

  ‘I can see my hat,’ Arnold said.

  ‘What?’ Cat hadn’t even noticed he’d taken it off. But there it was, bright yellow against the red mesh.

  Harvey laughed and ruffled Arnold’s hair. ‘You OK to stay here while I go and get it?’

  Arnold nodded.

  Harvey smiled at Cat, said, ‘Two minutes,’ and disappeared through a door at the side of the stage.

  ‘There’s no one here!’ Arnold said and Cat laughed.

  ‘Did you think you were coming out to be in the show?’ Cat asked him.

  When Arnold nodded, Cat pulled him closer and gave him a quick squeeze. ‘Wow, you’re brave,’ she told him. ‘I feel a bit nervous even though it’s empty.’ She took a deep breath, turning slowly to take everything in.

  ‘Did you know I used to go onstage?’ she asked Arnold.

  ‘On X Factor?’ Arnold asked.

  Cat laughed. ‘No, I was a comedian. I told jokes.’

  ‘I know a joke!’ Arnold said, his eyes shining.

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘Why did the chicken cross the road?’

  ‘I don’t know. Why did the chicken cross the road?’

  ‘Cos it wanted to see the other chicken that got run over.’

  ‘Dark,’ Cat said. ‘I like it.’

  Arnold stretched his arms out and turned in a slow circle, like Cat had just done. ‘Did you do jokes here?’

  ‘No,’ Cat said. ‘Never anywhere as big as this.’

  She stared out at the stalls. No, she’d never played a theatre. Not even close. But it still felt familiar. Just being on a stage. The smell of the auditorium. The idea of looking out and seeing so many faces looking back at you. Expecting you to be funny.

  She hadn’t realised how much she missed it.

  Twelve

  Cat was thinking she should probably get out of bed and cross the room and turn off the birdsong alarm on her phone, which she’d left on the window ledge to prevent her ignoring her alarm, when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘I’m awake!’ she croaked.

  The door opened and Kelly crept in, holding a mug of tea.

  After bringing Arnold back the previous day, Cat had ended up staying for dinner and then the night. It was always hard to leave Kelly’s house – it was so warm and cosy and fun and no one ever stole her beers and cracked any necks or had really loud sex in the living room.

  ‘I’m up,’ Cat repeated, shuffling up the bed to lean back against the pillows. ‘You’re too nice.’

  Kelly put the tea down on the bedside table and sat down heavily at the bottom of the bed. ‘I’ve been up since four, puking.’

  Cat’s eyes hadn’t focused properly and the room was mostly still dark, but she blinked and then squinted and she could see that Kelly did look pale. And tired.

  ‘Get in with me,’ Cat said, folding back the other side of the duvet.

  ‘You’ll be late.’ Kelly shook her head.

  ‘I don’t care. You’re more important. Come on.’

  Kelly clambered into bed next to Cat and dropped her head down on her shoulder.

  ‘I feel like shit.’

  Cat stroked her hair. ‘I’m not surprised.’

  ‘I’m so sick of feeling sick all the time. I wasn’t like this with Arnold.’

  ‘You weren’t sick at all with Arnold, were you?’

  ‘Only once. When we were watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I threw up in—’

  ‘A Quality Street tin. Yeah, it’s all coming back to me now.’

  ‘I can’t decide if it’s better being sick or just feeling sick all the
time.’

  ‘Worst “Would You Rather?” ever,’ Cat said.

  ‘Would you rather get back with Sam or go out with Harvey?’ Kelly said.

  Cat jerked her head back so fast, she banged it against the headboard.

  ‘Sorry,’ Kelly said. ‘I was thinking about it when I was lying on the bathroom floor.’

  ‘God,’ Cat said. ‘I don’t… God. There’s nothing going on with Harvey.’

  ‘But there could be.’

  ‘No,’ Cat said. ‘No way. He’s Sam’s brother. He’s off limits.’

  ‘Bollocks.’

  ‘He is. There’s just no way.’

  ‘Does he know that?’

  ‘He doesn’t need to. He’s not interested in me.’

  ‘Are you sure? He was flirty at the show, you said.’

  ‘He’s always flirty, it doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘And then he invited you to the theatre where you had, according to Arnold, the best day ever.’

  ‘That was because of Arnold. He invited me cos of Arnold.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because he’s nice. He’s nice and good with kids and charming and funny and hot.’

  ‘Wow, you’re really not interested,’ Kelly said. ‘I stand corrected.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Cat said and slurped her tea because she knew it would annoy her friend.

  ‘You’re allowed to just have fun,’ Kelly said. ‘It doesn’t need to be a big relationship thing.’

  ‘I mean, it literally couldn’t be a big relationship thing,’ Cat said. ‘That’s not even—’

  ‘So just a shag then. I bet he’s good.’

  ‘I haven’t thought about it,’ Cat lied. She absolutely had not fallen asleep last night thinking of shagging Harvey on that stupid terrifying net. Or in the dressing room, in front of one of the mirrors surrounded by lights. Or actually on the stage in front of a full theatre (that one had been a bit weird).

  ‘I know you’re lying,’ Kelly said. ‘You forget that I know you better than you know—’ The colour suddenly drained out of her face and she lurched up and over the side of the bed to throw up on the floor.

  ‘Yourself,’ she said, weakly, a few seconds later.

  * * *

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t come in today,’ Cat said. She was lying on her back on the bed, her head dangling over the side to make her voice sound suitably strained. ‘Yeah, I think it was something I ate.’

  Colin sounded distracted and pissed off, but Cat didn’t even feel guilty. Her work was up to date; they could definitely manage without her for a day and Kelly was more important. After Kelly had been sick, Cat had cleaned it up (gagging and with her eyes mostly closed) and then put Kelly to bed. Then she’d got Arnold up and made him breakfast – a marmalade sandwich so he could pretend to be Paddington – and then she’d phoned Colin.

  ‘Do you know the way to school?’ she asked Arnold now. ‘We’ll have to walk.’

  ‘Why do we?’

  ‘Because your mum’s not feeling very well and I can’t drive her car. Or anyone’s car.’

  ‘Why can’t Daddy drive me?’

  ‘Because he’s away with work. Which is why I’m here. Now can you go and wipe your face, you’ve given yourself a Glasgow smile with marmalade.’

  ‘What’s a Glasgow smile?’

  ‘Never mind that. Have you got a bag or something?’

  ‘I think Mummy leaves it by the door.’

  While Arnold went to wash his face, Cat looked for the bag. He was right – next to the door was a small pile of oblong wooden boxes that Cat had noticed and admired in passing, but never realised had any practical purpose. One was yellow with the Coca-Cola logo in red and held Arnold’s shoes. Another – brown and printed with Covent Garden Flower Market – contained a flat blue bag which, when Cat looked, had a reading book and some paperwork inside. Kelly was so bloody organised, it was ridiculous.

  ‘Right,’ Cat said to Arnold, as he stepped out of the downstairs loo. ‘Get your shoes and coat on and we’ll get going.’

  Outside, it was bright and cold – Cat’s favourite weather.

  ‘It’s not far, is it?’ Cat said. She’d been in the car plenty of times, but found it hard to translate driving distance to walking distance.

  She took Arnold’s hand as they stepped out onto the street. Cat looked around, hoping she’d see some other parents heading the same way that she could just follow, but no such luck. They crossed the main road and Cat felt fairly confident Kelly usually turned left, so that’s what they did.

  ‘Why is Mummy sick?’ Arnold asked, as they passed a newsagent’s and Cat made a mental note to stop off there on the way back and get a magazine and some chocolate for Kelly. And maybe ginger ale? That was meant to be good for morning sickness, she was sure.

  ‘Because of the baby in her tummy,’ Cat said. There was still no sign of any other kids, but she decided to plough on.

  ‘Why does it make her sick?’ Arnold asked.

  Cat stopped walking and looked down at him. ‘You know what? I don’t know. It’s probably hormones. It’s usually hormones.’

  ‘What’s hormones?’

  Cat started walking again. ‘I don’t think I know that either. I’ll google it and tell you when you get home. Or you could ask your teacher, I’d bet they’d like that.’

  They crossed another road – Cat was almost certain it was the right way.

  ‘I don’t want a baby brother,’ Arnold said.

  When Cat looked down at him, he looked furious, his forehead furrowed, cheeks pink, lower lip pouched out.

  ‘Well, first of all,’ Cat said, ‘that’s just tough. The baby’s coming whether you like it or not. But, you know what? You might love it so much you can’t believe it.’

  ‘I don’t love it,’ Arnold said.

  ‘I know you don’t love it now. But I bet you will when you meet it. And it will annoy you and sometimes you’ll wish you were an only child, but then other times you’ll be so happy to have them.’

  ‘What’s yours called?’ Arnold asked. And then skipped a little on the spot and shouted, ‘JACOB!’

  ‘Who on earth is Jacob?’ Cat asked.

  ‘My friend! Over there! He’s got a Nintendo Switch in his bedroom.’

  ‘Wow. Lucky Jacob. At least that means we’re definitely going the right way.’

  Jacob was waving from the other side of the road and Arnold was almost vibrating with excitement.

  ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ Arnold asked.

  ‘Jacob? You’d know better than me, but I was assuming boy.’

  ‘No! Your sister.’ He looked up at her as if he couldn’t believe how thick she was being.

  ‘I haven’t got a sister,’ Cat said.

  She could see more children in the distance now. They seemed to be appearing out of every side road to form a river of children pouring towards the school. Like Avengers Assembling. Or maybe zombies.

  ‘What’s your brother called?’

  ‘I haven’t got a brother either.’

  ‘What have you got then?’ Arnold said.

  ‘Just me.’

  ‘And your mummy.’

  ‘Nope, no mummy either. Just me and my dad.’ Who she still hadn’t called. Even though he’d texted again, more than once.

  ‘My dad’s in Birmingham,’ Arnold said.

  ‘I know. I told you that.’

  At the school gates, Cat kissed Arnold on the crown of his head and said, ‘Marmalade, coffee and bear breath,’ which caused him to breathe in her face and reminded her that she’d forgotten to get him to clean his teeth, which was one of the things Kelly had said they had to do before leaving for school. Oh well.

  * * *

  Of course ‘Did you clean his teeth?’ was the first thing Kelly asked when she woke up. It was coming up to eleven and Cat had been lying on the sofa half-watching This Morning while scrolling through the internet on her phone.

  ‘Course,’ she s
aid. ‘And I spat on a tissue and cleaned his face. No. I forgot. But it’ll be fine. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Rough. But I need to eat something.’ She opened the door to the secret larder. ‘Have you eaten?’ Her voice echoed from the small room.

  ‘I had some toast, yeah.’

  ‘Do you want some custard?’

  ‘Custard?’ Cat rolled off the sofa and followed Kelly into the larder. ‘Just custard?’

  ‘Yeah. I keep thinking about it.’

  ‘Are you only craving yellow things? First the macaroni cheese, and the banana, now custard?’

  ‘I had a mustard sandwich yesterday. It burned my tongue, but it was so good.’

  ‘Weird.’

  ‘Do you want some?’

  ‘Yeah, go on then. I’ll do it.’

  Kelly sat on the sofa while Cat heated up a carton of custard and then they both sat at the kitchen island to eat it.

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I had custard,’ Cat said. And then as she lifted the spoon to her mouth she realised why. She was back in the kitchen at her nan’s. Ken Bruce’s voice was coming out of the radio on the window ledge. The back door was open, wind rippling the multicoloured plastic fly curtain. Someone was standing in the archway between the kitchen and dining room. She couldn’t remember who it was, but she knew she didn’t want to talk to them.

  ‘My nan used to make egg mashed up in a cup,’ she told Kelly, pushing the bowl of custard away. ‘That’s mostly yellow. You should try that.’

  ‘What is it?’ Kelly had almost finished her bowl of custard already.

  ‘Well, I feel like the clue is in the name,’ Cat said. ‘But basically it’s a soft boiled egg. Mashed up. In a cup. With loads of butter and salt and pepper.’

  Kelly nodded. ‘That sounds amazing. Do you know how to make it?’

  ‘It’s an egg in a cup, Kel, I’m not completely incapable! I made this lovely custard, didn’t I?’

  ‘You heated it in the microwave, yeah.’

  ‘Well, boiling an egg is basically the same. I can never really get the yolk to be soft, to be honest, but I’ll give it a go.’

  ‘Are you not going to eat that?’

  Cat pushed her custard over for Kelly.