‘Where do you go when he comes back?’
‘Either I sleep on the sofa or I stay with Mum and Dad.’ He held out his hand. ‘Do you want to give me your coat?’
Cat wriggled out of her coat and handed it over. The back of her neck and the top of her back were wet from the snow and she shivered a little.
‘Do you want a shower or something?’ Harvey asked, stepping past her to hang the coats up in the tiny entryway.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Cat said, the thought of being naked in Harvey’s apartment giving her butterflies. ‘Thanks.’
‘A drink then?’
While Harvey was getting wine in the kitchenette, Cat wandered over to look at the photograph on the wall. It was taken from high in the sky, presumably from a helicopter, looking down at the beach. The top half of the photo was bright-blue sea, the bottom half almost-white sand, dotted with multi-coloured sunbathing figures.
‘I love this,’ Cat said, glancing over at Harvey.
He was heading towards her, holding out a glass, a huge one with just a little wine in the bottom. The first time she’d been given wine like that had been at Kelly’s parents’ house and she’d been horrified – she’d always previously filled her own wine glasses almost to the top, but she’d got used to it now. Harvey gently tapped his glass against hers and said, ‘To snow.’
‘To snow,’ she said. ‘And signal failures.’
She sipped her wine and watched Harvey drink some of his. Then she watched him lick his bottom lip. She wanted to be the one to lick it. What should she say? How did you ask someone to sleep with you once but never again? That thing we were talking about earlier. You know, when I said nothing could happen? Well, I’ve changed my mind. Cos you’re hot and I’m horny and it probably won’t be excruciating.
She couldn’t do it.
* * *
Cat woke during the night, desperate for a pee. She sat up and swung her legs off the side of the bed and padded through to the bathroom. The living room door was open – actually she wasn’t even sure there was a door – and Harvey hadn’t closed the curtains and the snow was still falling, now in great clumps that looked like feathers. The light from a street lamp illuminated half the room and Cat could see Harvey on the sofa bed. He was lying on his back, one arm thrown across his face. One of his long legs was sticking out from under the duvet, bent at the knee. She wanted to bite his inner thigh. Maybe she could’ve done, if she’d been brave enough to tell him what she wanted. Maybe she could do it now, just go and get in bed with him, whisper it until he woke up.
Instead she tiptoed to the bathroom and peed as quietly as possible, which actually took a fair bit of pelvic floor control, and then scurried back into the bedroom. She pulled the blinds back a little and looked out onto the street. There was a thick carpet of snow now – it was piled on the metal tables outside the cafes and restaurants, gathered on the awnings, topped the streetlights. It didn’t look real. There was no one in the street, no traffic, and Cat wasn’t sure she’d ever seen London looking so beautiful before.
Twenty-Two
‘I can’t believe I’m doing this again,’ Cat said, staring at herself in the mirror in the bathroom of the members’ club where Nick’s leaving do was taking place.
Her stomach was churning and her palms were sweating. Kelly had had to do her make-up for her earlier because her hands were shaking so much Kelly was scared she’d stab herself in the eye.
‘I’m proud of you,’ Kelly said.
She was sitting on the chair in the corner now, her swollen legs up on another chair. Cat had told her not to come, since she was still throwing up well past the point of pregnancy that the vomiting was supposed to stop and she wasn’t sleeping well either, thanks to heartburn and cramp, but she’d insisted. And since Cat needed the moral support, she’d agreed.
Cat had been nervous that Nick’s party would be huge, hundreds of glamorous people she’d feel completely intimidated by, but it wasn’t like that at all. She’d walked through the room earlier and it had been warm and friendly. She should have known really. It was very Nick. Even so, the thought of doing stand-up again – and doing it in front of work colleagues who hadn’t even known she’d ever done it – was daunting.
‘Do you remember the first time we did this?’ she asked Kelly.
‘I do,’ Kelly said. ‘I didn’t have ankles like an elephant or a feel like I was sitting on a bag of grapes.’
‘Lovely,’ Cat said. ‘I was thinking more about how exciting it was.’
‘It was,’ Kelly said. ‘I couldn’t believe you were really going to go through with it.’
Cat laughed. She hadn’t either. She’d kept telling herself she could back out; she could cancel at any time up until she was actually standing behind the mic. But then she’d been surprised at how comfortable she’d felt there. Her first set hadn’t been great, but she’d loved doing it and she’d got a few laughs. Enough to want to try again anyway. Three months later, she’d won a newcomer competition and another three months after that she decided she never wanted to do anything else.
* * *
‘Have you heard of a meet-cute?’ Cat asked, from the small makeshift stage in the corner of the room. ‘It’s like a funny, story-worthy way to meet someone. Like a “can’t wait to tell the grandkids” type of story. A friend of mine met her boyfriend when he was struggling to park his car and she guided him in.’ She raised one eyebrow, as a few people laughed. ‘Another met a guy on the Tube. She was reading a book, he said he’d read it and it was good; she was excited to meet a man who’d read a book and now they’re married.’
There was a light just to her left shining directly in her eye-line and she had to resist the urge to shield her eyes with her hand. She’d get used to it, she knew.
‘That was literally the only book he’d ever read, but better than nothing, eh?’
She paused to pick out a couple of faces in the crowd to focus on: Phil from work, who looked significantly more relaxed and about ten years younger than he did in the office, and a woman Cat didn’t know with lavender hair and black-rimmed glasses. They were both smiling. Cat smiled back.
‘I met my ex when he hit me with his bike,’ she said.
She told the story of how she and Sam had met and then told them that he’d worked it into his stand-up routine. Someone actually shouted, ‘No!’
‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘But it was OK. I did some stuff about him in mine too. We were pretty good at sharing stories. Sometimes if we both wanted the same one, we’d flip for it. He wanted the one about how I accidentally told his mum I was veggie at a barbecue, but I wanted that one cos I thought he’d make me sound like a twat.’
Cat scanned the small crowd until she spotted Kelly. Cat had told her to stay close to the bathroom in case she needed to puke. She should’ve known she wouldn’t listen.
‘Anyway,’ Cat said, ‘we broke up.’
‘Good!’ someone said in the audience. Cat thought it was probably the same person who’d shouted ‘no’ but she wasn’t sure.
‘We broke up five years ago. And then a few months ago, I was on the Tube and the guy opposite was reading the paper – not a book! – and there was my ex. In the paper. The miserable bastard on the Tube wouldn’t let me look at his paper. Meet-cute fail. But I got hold of one anyway and it turned out my ex was doing a stand-up routine about me. And our relationship.’
There was actually a gasp of shock at that and Cat laughed. ‘I know! I mean, part of me was flattered. Like… why are you so obsessed with me?’
Out of the corner of her eye – the one not currently having the retina burned away by the light – she saw Kelly lurch to her feet.
‘Um, that’s my best friend Kelly there. Could someone look after her? She’s probably about to puke, but she’s a pro at it now. You could just hand her a bucket or a bag and she’ll be right as rain in a minute.’
She watched as a woman in a very slinky red dress reached for K
elly’s arm, guiding her towards the bathroom.
Cat ended with a few words about Nick and how much they’d miss him, how lucky New York was to be getting him, and everyone toasted him.
Nick stepped up on the stage to thank everyone, first hugging Cat and saying ‘You are wonderful’ in her ear.
‘I knew Cat was funny when she asked me out,’ Nick told the assembled crowd and got a bigger laugh than Cat had.
* * *
Once Nick had given his short speech, he went to the bar to get Cat a drink. Cat popped into the loo to check on Kelly. She was sitting in a chair in the corner, looking pale and wan while the woman in the red dress told her about her business making embroidered sunhats.
‘Get back to the party,’ Kelly told Cat. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You don’t look fine.’
‘I am, promise. Louise is looking after me.’ She pointed at the woman in the red dress.
‘I’m a big fan,’ Louise said. ‘Of Kelly’s blog, I mean, not of you. Not that I’m not a fan of you. You were good!’
Cat laughed. ‘Thank you.’
‘Go,’ Kelly said.
‘Text me if you need me.’
Kelly gave her a thumbs-up, so Cat left.
Nick was just outside the door talking to someone Cat didn’t know and she was about to skirt past him when he reached for her arm and handed her a cocktail. His friend drifted away and Nick said, ‘Everything sorted for your visit?’
Cat flinched and glanced back at the bathroom door, worried in case Kelly had followed her out, but there was no one else around.
‘It’s all booked,’ Cat said. ‘Looking forward to it. How about you? Sorted? Ready?’
Nick nodded. ‘I’m just excited to go now. I hate the in-between times, you know? Waiting for something to happen. I just want to get on with it.’
Cat nodded. ‘I’m going to miss you around the office though.’
He pulled her into another hug. ‘Me too. But not for long, I hope.’
Twenty-Three
Cat tiptoed into Arnold’s bedroom. It was bigger than her room in her flat and tidier too. She was still sorting out, ready for packing, and she couldn’t quite believe she had so much stuff. She told herself she was at the point of organising where things got worse before they got better, but her room was such a disgrace she’d seriously considered just setting fire to the lot.
Kelly had been feeling much better in the days since Nick’s leaving party and Sean had convinced her to have a night out – cinema, a meal – so Cat had offered to babysit.
Arnold had shuffled down in his bed so his head was no longer on his pillow and had curled himself around some of his teddies; the soft brown one with the red bow Cat had bought him was closest to his cheek. She gazed at him in the warm glow of a white night light shaped like a bunny, his eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks, his lips pouting out, his chest rising and falling softly with his breath.
Cat loved him so much. She’d loved him from the minute she met him when he was only a few minutes old. She’d been at the hospital with Kelly the entire time, but hadn’t stayed for the actual birth, thinking it was a moment for Kelly and Sean alone. Kelly had shouted at her after, said she’d wanted her there, that Sean had been useless (about which Sean had cheerfully agreed, arms wrapped around his wife, beaming with pride).
She didn’t know if she could move to New York and leave him. She’d miss him so much. But she’d come back for visits and Kelly and Sean could bring him (and the new baby) over. It would be fun to show Arnold New York: take him to the zoo, on the ferry, up the Empire State Building.
Arnold snuffled in his sleep and Cat leaned down to kiss his forehead. As her lips brushed over his skin, he made an incomprehensible sound and lurched up to sitting, headbutting Cat in the mouth.
‘Ow,’ Arnold said, sleepily, before falling back down to his pillow again, clutching the teddy to his neck.
Cat had her hand clamped over her mouth, where one of her front teeth was aching and her lip was burning with pain. She waited until she was outside Arnold’s door before taking her hand away and muttering, ‘MotherFUCKER!’ Tasting blood, she tested her lip with her tongue and, yes, it was actually split. She grabbed her front tooth between her thumb and forefinger, expecting it to be loose, but it wasn’t, thank god.
In the family bathroom at the end of the landing, she looked at her lip in the mirror, turning it down to better see the injury. There was a clear split, but only a little blood; her lip was already fattening up. Great. She rinsed her mouth with water and headed downstairs. Bloody kids.
* * *
When she picked up her phone, she found she had yet another missed call from her dad and she hit the call button before she could change her mind. At least if she spoke to him he’d stop calling for a while and she’d have one less thing to worry about. She really wanted one less thing to worry about.
‘Cat!’ her dad said. He sounded pleased to hear from her, which surprised her – if she’d been waiting to hear from someone for so long, she’d at least be a little frosty when they finally got in touch, but her dad simply sounded delighted.
‘Sorry I haven’t got back to you before now,’ Cat said.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ her dad said. ‘I know how busy you are.’
The thing was, Cat thought, he didn’t know how busy she was. Or how anything was in her life. Because she’d never really let him know. She didn’t even really know why he wanted to see her. Couldn’t they just let the relationship drift away? Wouldn’t that make sense? It would surely be easier than whatever they’d been doing all these years.
Guilt curled in Cat’s stomach. He was her dad. She couldn’t just ghost him. She could hear traffic noise in the background and wondered where he was. Maybe he was back home already and they wouldn’t have to meet at all.
‘So you’re in London?’ Cat asked.
‘Not for much longer actually,’ her dad said. ‘Off to New York next week. Would be great to see you before I go though.’
Cat’s stomach dropped and for a second she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
‘I’m going to be in New York next week,’ she said before she could change her mind.
‘No way!’ He sounded Australian again. ‘Do you think we could get together there instead? Could be fun.’
Strange idea of fun, Cat thought, meeting up with his sullen daughter who’d been avoiding him for months, years. But maybe it was a good idea. Seeing him somewhere neither of them lived. Neutral territory. Less pressure.
‘That sounds good,’ Cat said. ‘I’ll text you the dates and where I’m staying and we can sort something out.’
‘It’s great,’ her dad said. ‘I’m really glad you called.’
‘Yeah,’ Cat said. ‘Me too.’
* * *
When Kelly and Sean came home they were dopey and giggly and affectionate in a way Cat instantly recognised as desperate to go and have sex. Kelly’s aversion to Sean must have worn off. She’d have to ask her about it in the morning.
‘How was Arnold?’ Kelly asked, pulling her coat off and hanging it over the back of a chair.
‘Adorable until he headbutted me,’ Cat said.
Kelly’s face dropped immediately. ‘He didn’t! What happened?’
She stepped out of her shoes and Cat smiled at how much shorter she was.
‘It was my own fault,’ Cat said. ‘I went in to check on him and he just looked so adorable that I tried to give him a little kiss.’
‘Oh no,’ Sean said from the kitchen.
‘I should have warned you about that,’ Kelly said. ‘It’s a recent thing.’
Cat pointed at her lip. ‘I’m lucky to still have all my teeth.’
‘I just look at him from the door now,’ Kelly said. ‘Maybe blow him a kiss.’
‘I can understand it,’ Cat said. ‘I wouldn’t like someone sneaking up on me while I sleep either.’
‘Right?’ Kelly said. ‘Although it’s
kind of nice sometimes.’
Sean reappeared with two glasses of water and simply said, ‘Yeah?’ to his wife.
Kelly’s face changed immediately, her cheeks turning pink.
‘Too much information,’ Cat said.
‘We’re going to go up, OK?’ she told Cat.
‘That’s fine,’ Cat said. ‘Leave me here alone. Go and have sex.’
Sean’s face flamed, but he was smiling as he turned to leave.
‘I know what the glasses are for though,’ Cat said, already snuggling back down into the sofa cushions. ‘I read that penis beaker thread on Mumsnet.’
‘Oh my god,’ Sean said as Kelly snorted.
‘Please don’t remind me of that,’ Kelly said. ‘You’ll ruin the mood.’
‘But me getting headbutted in the face didn’t,’ Cat said. ‘Charming.’
‘Shut up.’ Kelly followed Sean towards the door, calling back ‘Love you!’ to Cat.
‘Love you too,’ Cat said, but they’d already gone.
Cat pressed play on the TV to finish watching The Good Place. There was no way she was going upstairs until she was confident they were done. She really didn’t need to listen to their sex noises; she got enough of that at home. Except it wasn’t really home any more. Or it wouldn’t be soon.
She ran her finger over her lip as she remembered running her thumbs over Sam’s eyebrows back when they were together. Why was she even thinking about Sam? She shouldn’t be thinking about Sam. No good ever came of it. But she’d always liked those moments. Sometimes more than the actual sex. The soft moments before or after when they just looked at each other, explored each other’s faces with gentle touches. She used to like cupping his jaw in her hand and brushing his chin with her thumb, running her fingers along his cheekbone and the shell of his ear. She missed that a little. Not Sam. Just… that kind of intimacy. Pressing her face into the curve of his neck and knowing exactly what he smelled like right there.
The One Who's Not the One: A feel-good, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy Page 13