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

by Keris Stainton

  She rolled onto her side and grabbed one of the cushions to pull against her stomach, curling her knees up.

  She didn’t miss him. Not really. It hadn’t been worth it. The pain had been too much. There was no way she was going to put herself through that again. Not with anyone. But sometimes maybe it would be nice just to have someone kiss you gently on the forehead before you fell asleep.

  It was just a shame it would always be followed by pain.

  Twenty-Four

  ‘This was a terrible idea,’ Cat muttered, looking around the foyer of the boutique hotel she and Harvey were reviewing for Kelly. She’d been picturing something huge and over-the-top – she’d actually been picturing the hotel from Pretty Woman – but this place was small and modern, all white walls and blond wood and teal and pink accents.

  ‘I dunno, it seems nice,’ Harvey said, directly in her ear.

  How did he keep sneaking up on her? She turned to smile at him. He’d had his hair cut since she’d last seen him and it was shorter than she’d seen it on him before. It suited him. She wanted to run her fingers along the back of his neck. She bit her thumbnail instead.

  ‘How’ve you been?’ he asked her.

  ‘I’m good,’ she said, approaching the reception desk and assuming he’d follow. ‘You?’

  ‘Not bad. Thanks.’

  They stood smiling at each other and Cat tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach.

  * * *

  ‘Does everyone always flirt with you or is it just hotel receptionists?’ Cat asked as they walked around the corner to the lift.

  Harvey laughed. ‘She was just being nice. I don’t think you know what flirting is.’

  ‘Oh, I do.’ She pressed the down button – their room was a garden room in the basement. ‘I’ve been flirted with. Even done some flirting myself.’ She was terrible at it, but she didn’t tell him that. ‘I know it when I see it.’

  ‘Like porn?’ Harvey said, as the lift doors opened and they were faced with an elderly and startled-looking couple.

  ‘What about porn?’ Cat asked, against her better judgement, once they were alone in the lift.

  ‘That was a definition in court, wasn’t it? The judge said he couldn’t define it, but he knew it when he saw it.’

  ‘Oh.’ Cat was annoyed to find she was a little disappointed. She hadn’t really known what she’d expected and really it was much better for them to stay clear away from any sex-adjacent subjects, but still.

  The lift doors opened and Harvey followed Cat to the end of the corridor and their room. Their huge room with doors opening out onto a small, bright, private terrace. Their room with an enormous bathroom containing a giant shower and free-standing bath that was bigger than Cat’s entire bathroom. Their room with a flatscreen TV and a squashy sofa and a turntable and collection of vinyl and only one bed.

  ‘There’s only one bed,’ Cat said. ‘I phoned and asked for twin beds. And I sent a follow-up email, and they said—’

  ‘We can change rooms,’ Harvey said. ‘Want me to ring?’

  He’d thrown his weekend bag on the bed and was shrugging his way out of his black coat. Underneath he was wearing a grey hoodie over black jeans.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Cat said, pulling her eyes away. ‘I can do it.’

  ‘Just going for a wee,’ Harvey said, unzipping his bag and taking a washbag with him into the bathroom.

  Cat rang down to reception and when they told her there were no other rooms free and that there was no way they could swap the beds in the room she had, she texted Kelly a row of the siren emoji. She replied straight away: What’s up?

  THERE’S ONLY ONE BED, Cat sent back.

  Jesus, I thought something actually bad had happened. So?

  Did you not hear me? I said THERE’S ONLY ONE BED.

  So make a pillow wall down the middle if you’re that much of a prude or just, you know, don’t shag him if you don’t want to.

  Cat stared at her phone and started typing a couple of times before deleting and trying again. She hadn’t yet come up with a reply she was happy with when another one came through from Kelly.

  Or is the problem that you DO want to?

  ‘Fucking hell,’ Cat said aloud.

  Maybe, she typed. But I can’t. So.

  Why can’t you?

  HE’S SAM’S BROTHER.

  So? You and Sam aren’t together any more, I’m pretty sure. I remember it happening. I bought you a cake.

  Siblings are off limits, everyone knows that.

  You literally got that from Friends. You can’t let a nineties sitcom run your life.

  Sacrilege tbh. But it’s def not just Friends. It’s a thing. You wouldn’t want me shagging your brother, would you?

  I haven’t got one. But if I did, you’d be welcome to him, I’m sure.

  No. It can’t happen. And so now I have to share a bed with the sexiest man I’ve ever met and not lay a finger on him. And I haven’t had sex for two years. This is your fault.

  This isn’t my fault. It’s your fault. There’s literally nothing to stop you climbing him like a tree.

  Cat heard the bathroom door unlock and carried her phone out to the terrace. Harvey always seemed to be sneaking up on her and there was no way she was chancing him reading this conversation over her shoulder.

  She hadn’t had a chance to reply when another text came through from Kelly.

  I’ve already told you. You should just shag him.

  HOW IS THAT HELPFUL? Cat replied.

  No-strings sex. How is that not helpful? He might be up for it. And that way you’re not really doing the sibling thing. You’re just doing the sibling. She followed up with a bunch of laugh/cry emojis and Cat replied, You’re not funny.

  I am. But also I’m serious. Get some. Get some with ‘the sexiest man you’ve ever met’. Get some for me cos I can’t stand the way Sean smells so I might never have sex again.

  Oh god, Cat replied. Poor Sean. You seemed into it the other night. When I babysat.

  Thought I was. Turned out I wasn’t, Kelly replied. He’s taking it like a champ. As you could be.

  Stop now, Cat typed, laughing as she looked down at her phone. I need to go and tell Harvey we’re top and tailing tonight.

  Kinky, Kelly replied.

  * * *

  ‘So what are we doing for dinner?’ Harvey asked.

  He’d taken the news about the bed surprisingly – or perhaps unsurprisingly – well. He’d just shrugged and said it was a big bed and it’d be fine. Then he’d pulled off his hoodie to reveal a plain white T-shirt that rose up as he lifted the hoodie over his head. Cat tried not to stare at the strip of stomach between the waistband of his jeans and the hem of his T-shirt, but she couldn’t help spotting the line of dark hair below his navel. And also above. She bit her thumbnail and looked around for the mini bar.

  ‘Want a drink before we go?’ she asked.

  He dropped his hoodie on the bed and was smoothing his hair back down. It looked soft. Cat wanted to feel it. Drink!

  ‘Do I need to get changed, do you think?’ he asked. ‘Or will I be OK like this?’

  ‘It’s only the hotel restaurant,’ Cat said. ‘I think you’ll be fine.’ She pulled open the door of the mini bar. ‘Drink?’ she repeated.

  ‘I’ll have a beer,’ Harvey said.

  Cat got one for herself too and then flicked the heater on outside, sitting down at the table. The terrace was sheltered with bamboo and some sort of climbing greenery and lit with fairy lights and the glow from the patio heater. It was nice. Cat wished she could relax.

  ‘I know I’ve said this already,’ Harvey said. ‘But thanks for inviting me along. Work’s been pretty full-on and I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to get a proper holiday, so these little breaks are good.’

  ‘It’s all Kelly,’ Cat said. ‘Not me.’

  ‘Still.’ Harvey smiled at her and then lifted his beer bottle to his lips. Cat looked up at the patio heater. Silver.
Red. Hot.

  ‘I appreciate it,’ Harvey said and she looked back. Too soon. He was wiping his bottom lip with his thumb and then he licked it, presumably catching a drip of beer.

  Cat pinched her own thigh under the table.

  ‘So what’s happening with the job?’

  While Harvey told her about it – lighting intensities, intelligent fixtures, moving lights, focus position, colour and effects, none of which she really understood – she nodded and smiled and thought about what Kelly had said. Could she just sleep with him? Could she ask him? Just tell him it had been a while and she’d really like to have some sex and if he would too maybe he’d like to have it with her? They had this amazing room and massive bed, it’d be a shame to waste it. And then if it didn’t work out, she never had to see him again. They weren’t really friends – he was great, but it couldn’t go any further, so it was kind of perfect. Wasn’t it?

  * * *

  The restaurant was on the top floor of the hotel and entirely glass, overlooking a small outdoor pool with views over London beyond. The sky was almost lavender and streaked with pink clouds.

  They ordered wine and then both sat looking out at the view – the sunset reflected in the office building opposite, the Walkie-Talkie building in the distance just beyond.

  ‘How’s Arnold?’ Harvey asked.

  Cat grinned. ‘He’s great. Not happy about the idea of a new baby, but delightful in every other way.’

  ‘He was cute,’ Harvey said. ‘When I met him.’

  ‘He liked you,’ Cat said. ‘Still asks about you.’

  They were interrupted by the waitress with the wine. Cat watched in disbelief as she stood too close to Harvey, brushing his arm with her fingers, laughing too loudly, flicking her hair, and ignoring Cat completely.

  ‘Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t notice that,’ Cat asked Harvey once she’d gone.

  ‘What?’ he said, his eyes wide, as he picked up his glass and drank some wine, looking at her over the rim.

  Cat shook her head. ‘It’s unbelievable.’

  ‘You just can’t tell the difference between politeness and flirting.’

  ‘I really can,’ Cat said.

  Harvey drank some wine, slowly, still staring at her over his glass, his eyes serious. Cat’s breath caught in her chest and she thought again about Kelly’s suggestion. What did she actually have to lose? Why couldn’t she just have one night? With Harvey. One night of just sex. In a fabulous hotel. With Harvey. No one ever even needed to know. Except Kelly, obviously, she’d tell her everything, but other than her—

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Harvey asked, his voice lower than it had been earlier.

  Cat felt her ears heat up. She hoped they weren’t actually glowing red against the sunset backdrop.

  ‘What?’ she said, brilliantly.

  ‘You had an… interesting expression on your face. I just wondered what you were thinking about.’

  ‘Sam!’ Cat blurted out.

  Harvey looked briefly startled, jolting back a little in his seat, but he recovered quickly. ‘What about him?’

  ‘Just, you know…’ Cat looked out through the window at the pool. ‘How he’s getting on. How the stand-up’s going. All that.’

  ‘He’s fine,’ Harvey said, his voice back at its normal pitch. ‘Saw him at Mum’s last week for Sunday lunch.’

  ‘And the stand-up?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s going well, I think. He’d booked some more shows. He was asking me what you thought of it actually.’

  Cat’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? Why doesn’t he just ask me?’

  ‘He didn’t know if you’d want him to get in touch again. Actually he asked me to ask you if he’s OK to friend you on Facebook.’

  ‘Fucking hell,’ Cat said. She picked up her wine and drank half the glass. ‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ she said, eventually. ‘I can give him some notes.’ She picked up her wine again as an excuse not to look at Harvey.

  * * *

  By the time the starters arrived, they’d mostly been talking about Harvey’s job again – it seemed a safer subject – but then Harvey asked Cat about hers, and she groaned.

  ‘It’s fine. Boring, but fine.’

  Cat wondered if she should tell him about the New York offer. Tell him that she was seriously considering it. That it would solve pretty much all of her problems.

  ‘Are you looking for something else?’ he asked, lifting a shell off his plate. ‘Got any more stand-up planned?’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Cat asked him, squinting at his plate. ‘What did you order?’

  ‘Oysters,’ Harvey said, smirking a little. ‘Do you want one?’

  ‘No,’ Cat said. ‘Thank you.’

  She looked down at her own plate. She’d ordered crab with avocado and mango. Distracted by the view and her own spiralling thoughts, she hadn’t even heard what Harvey had ordered. Why had he ordered oysters? Was he maybe thinking the same thing Cat had been thinking? Or maybe he just liked oysters.

  ‘I thought since we’re not paying…’ Harvey said, dipping his head and looking at her from under his eyebrows. He looked like he was up to no good and Cat laughed.

  ‘You make a good point.’

  ‘You really don’t want one?’ he asked.

  Cat looked at his plate and then at his face – he was smiling at her, dimple popping in his cheek – and she said, ‘OK then.’

  ‘Have you had one before?’ Harvey asked.

  ‘Course,’ Cat lied. She watched as Harvey held the shell up to his mouth and tipped the oyster in, swallowed, and then picked up his wine.

  As Cat lifted the shell, she remembered an article she’d read about how something like ninety per cent of oysters had norovirus. Which, she remembered now, was why she’d never actually tried one before. Also a news story about a woman who discovered she was allergic to oysters when her very first oyster killed her. Was she really going to eat something that could kill her? Or make her vomit at best? The shell was now resting on her bottom lip, so apparently she actually was. If Harvey hadn’t been staring at her – his eyes on her mouth, which was pretty fucking distracting anyway – she’d have thrown it over her shoulder or dropped it down her cleavage. But he was. So she tipped it into her mouth and flicked her head back a little as she tried to swallow it. It was a weird texture. And salty. And it wasn’t going down. For a second, Cat panicked that she was actually going to choke on it, but instead her gag reflex kicked in and the oyster launched itself back into her mouth. She grabbed her napkin and managed to get it to her mouth in time to spit it out, her eyes watering.

  ‘Shit!’ Harvey said, reaching for the bottle of water on the table and pouring her a glass. ‘Are you OK?’

  Cat’s throat was burning and she didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead she nodded and reached for the glass. By the time she’d drunk half of it, her throat felt better and she thought maybe her face had gone back to its normal colour.

  ‘I’m OK,’ Cat croaked. ‘Shit. Sorry about that.’

  ‘They’re not for everyone,’ Harvey said. The corner of his mouth quirked.

  ‘Are you laughing at me?’ Cat said. ‘Cos you know I could’ve died.’

  Harvey did laugh then. ‘Died how?’

  ‘I read about a woman who died from an oyster. She was allergic and she just dropped dead.’

  ‘You’re not allergic though, right?’

  ‘No.’ Cat drank some more wine. ‘But I could’ve choked.’

  ‘But you didn’t.’ He was still smirking.

  ‘Shut up,’ Cat said. She’d finished her wine. Harvey poured more.

  ‘So first it was smoking and now it’s oysters. What else are you going to pretend you’ve done when you haven’t?’

  That was her chance to say something sexy, Cat thought. Like ‘You.’ Would that work? Maybe not. But something sexy. Why couldn’t she think of anything sexy? Something like… ‘Oh there’s nothing else I haven’t done’ with a
suggestive eyebrow. Or would that be creepy? Or a bit too Carry On? Harvey was still staring at her, waiting for her answer.

  ‘Oh nothing,’ she said. ‘Not that I can think of.’

  So that was an opportunity missed.

  * * *

  They’d both ordered steak for the main and Cat was just cutting into hers when Harvey laughed and said, ‘Remember that barbecue? At Mum and Dad’s? When you said you were vegetarian?’

  ‘Oh god,’ Cat said. ‘In my defence, I don’t think I actually said I was vegetarian. I think your mum misunderstood and was so bloody lovely she rushed straight out to buy me food.’

  ‘And then wasn’t there something else as well?’ Harvey said, pausing in cutting his steak to put his head on one side and think.

  ‘No,’ Cat lied.

  ‘There was. I’ll get it in a minute.’ He cut his steak, put it in his mouth, and Cat recognised the exact moment he remembered, because he was smirking again and sped up his chewing in his eagerness to speak.

  ‘You didn’t know Pimm’s was alcohol!’ He grinned.

  ‘Again. A misunderstanding.’ Cat stabbed a chip with her fork and looked out past the pool. It was properly dark now – the sky a deep navy – and the pool was lit up turquoise with pink spotlights around the outside and shining up from under the water.

  ‘Doesn’t feel like London,’ she said, trying to change the subject. ‘Feel like I’m on holiday.’

  ‘Where would you go?’ Harvey asked. ‘If you could go anywhere in the world?’

  ‘I’d like to go to Japan.’ Cat picked up her wine glass before realising it was empty again. Harvey topped it up and she drank some before continuing. ‘Mostly cos of Lost in Translation, you know?’

  ‘I haven’t seen it,’ Harvey said.

  Cat ate a bit of steak, a chip, drank some wine, and said, ‘I loved it. You know what it’s about, right? Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson. And they’re both alone in this hotel. Well, she’s not alone. But she ends up alone. And they hang out and even though I usually hate anything where the man is years older than the woman, they’re both so… It’s just gorgeous.’ She drank some more wine. ‘So I’ve always sort of had this fantasy about being in a hotel and meeting someone randomly and just…’ She realised too late what she was saying, where they were.