‘Only for me?’ He smiles coquettishly. ‘I feel so exclusive.’
Before I can draw breath, his hand swings out and I feel the cold wet swill of a paintbrush across my face. I draw my hand across my upper lip and look at the blue stain left of my hand.
I cough and splutter as the odour hits me between the eyes and burns up my nostrils. ‘That is so pungent.’
‘Just be thankful it’s not something worse.’ He grabs my chin to stop me from moving as he rubs at the colour. Judging by how hard he’s rubbing, it’s not moving. ‘You look like a post-orgasmic Smurf.’
Laughter springs forth. ‘Never have I thought of a Smurf in that context.’
‘Here I am, bringing the weird and the wonderful experiences to you. Free of charge.’
‘Katharine, are you ready?’
I just about jump out of my skin, turning to find my best friend, dressed up to the nines, standing in the doorway with her hand poised to knock.
‘Lainey?’ I look at her, surprised.
She frowns. ‘What, don’t tell me you forgot?’
Oh, shit. Her hen do.
Chapter 27
‘Help me,’ I mouth to Christopher.
‘What?’ he says with a laugh. ‘No.’
‘No?’ I can hear Lainey approaching from behind. ‘You have to come out with me. Please.’
I’m barely changed and looking only slightly less shagged when Lainey drags me outside to the waiting car and sighs heavily as she opens the back door of Frank’s car. ‘Katharine, this is Hunter. We thought you’d like to meet him.’
Not again.
The last thing I need is to be set up with somebody, anybody. Hunter’s in the back seat, drawing his fingers through curly dark hair and waving nervously, and everybody is hoping I’ll just slip right in beside him and cruise off into the night.
I glance at Frank in the driver’s seat. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s pretending he can’t see me.
‘You’ve, er, got a—’ Hunter gestures to his own face ‘—got a bit of a Violet Beauregarde thing going on there.’
Frank can barely contain his laughter. ‘It’s very becoming. Not sure it’ll catch on though.’
‘What?’ Oh shit, the paint.
‘I’ll be just a second.’ I dodge a delivery van that zings past and is almost launched from a pothole and scuttle back inside. I reach for the rag and bottle of thinners again.
‘Give me five minutes.’ Christopher stills me with a finger. It’s then I realise he’s washing his brush and he’s not picking new colours; he’s preparing to leave. ‘I’ll pack up and be out of your hair.’
‘What?’ I ask. ‘No. Come with us. Leave that here and come with us.’
‘Katharine, I don’t think they mean for me to come with you.’
We both look outside to the car, to Hunter in the back seat, and to Lainey gesticulating wildly about something I feel might involve me. There no two ways about it; they don’t want Christopher there; I do. I’m twisted like a pretzel trying to work out which obligation to fulfil.
I turn back to Christopher. ‘Too bad. I’m asking you to come with me.’
He drops his head and lifts his eyes to mine as if to say, Are you serious?
‘Christopher, please?’ I try, rubbing at my face. ‘Gah, look at me with all this paint. Am I just spreading it around?’
‘To be fair, you were more beautiful five minutes ago covered in paint.’
My shoulders slip. Trust him to throw that word out at a moment like this.
‘Are you coming with us?’ I ask. ‘Or at least give me an excuse to stay? Tell me I can’t go because you’re not done.’
‘Katharine, it’s your friend’s hen do.’
‘Combined stag,’ I point out.
He shakes his head with an irritated laugh. ‘How about if I just stay here and finish my painting and you go out and party?’
‘Are you even listening to me? I want you there,’ I say.
He shrugs, but something in the way he won’t make eye contact tells me he’s not as nonchalant about this as he makes out.
‘What?’ he says. ‘Your friends have obviously got plans for you. Heaven forfend I get in the way. Anyway, it’ll do you good to get out of here for the night.’
‘Oh, come on!’ I laugh incredulously. ‘Are you seriously upset with me? I forgot about tonight. And what if their plans aren’t what I want anymore?’
‘Yes, but you clearly did agree to this at some point.’ He swings an arm towards the diorama outside. ‘So a) you should go and b) I don’t want to get in the way.’
There’s no need for this. He’s gone from spirited to solemn in five minutes flat and I cannot work out why. I feel like I could shout his name from a mountain top and he still wouldn’t hear anything other than what he wants to. I’m so confused right now. More than that, I’m frustrated. I’m locked in a shopfront and banging on the windows to be let out.
‘I have asked you to come with us because I want to spend time with you. But if that’s not good enough, then just lock the front door on the way out.’ I drop the spare keys on the seat beside him and walk out with nothing more than my phone, bank card and my own keys in my hand.
As I slip into the back seat, Hunter does a Dracula turn-out and does his best to hide the fact he’s smothering his lips with Chapstick.
Good Lord.
‘We thought it would be great for you to meet Hunter.’ Frank hands me a Heineken. I don’t love beer, but I’m not paying so don’t complain.
Behind us, there’s electronic music pinging and ponging about the bowling lanes, the clattering of pins scuttling into ball pits as another group of their friends cheer, and the smell of deep-fried food wafting through from the kitchen. My hired shoes pinch the bridges of my feet.
‘He’ll be on your table at the wedding and, since neither of you has a plus one, we thought you might like to get to know each other.’ Lainey’s voice trails off as she looks at us both hopefully.
While her plan is admirable, I’ve been trying to work out how to ask Christopher to be my plus one all day. Though, I’m not sure what his response will be after those last few moments in the gallery. Do I say something now and risk embarrassing poor Hunter, whose only role in this whole scenario is sitting there harbouring all the excitement of a cat with a laser pointer?
It’s not his fault, and I doubt he knew any better, so I keep my discomfort to myself. The least I can do is have a few drinks and head home. There’s no rule saying something must come of tonight.
‘In that case, it’ll be good to know another face there,’ I concede, tapping my bottle against Hunter’s and taking a long slug.
I hate myself for excusing this behaviour right now.
Hunter’s not the worst person I’ve ever met. It’s just that he’s not the best, either. He keeps us entertained with stories about his work as court clerk while the four of us split a share plate of hot dogs and fries. When Hunter officers me a behind the scenes tour of the court house, I look at Frank like I might choke him.
‘You look like you have a lot on your mind.’ Hunter angles to get a better look at my phone screen as I check it. Not a peep from Christopher, not even a message to say he’s left. Or stayed. God, I hope he’s decided to stay.
I pull back and close the cover. ‘Just really busy with work stuff.’
‘Lainey said you were thinking about opening an art gallery, is that true?’
‘That’s where you picked me up from today.’ I glare at Lainey. Has she not told him anything? Don’t you at least give people the Wikipedia quick facts before setting them up? ‘So, I’m not really thinking about doing it, it’s happening. I open next week.’
‘The day after our wedding, of course.’ Lainey clucks her tongue.
‘Wow, that’s quick.’ He rests his elbow on the table.
And that’s the thing with people, isn’t it? Nobody ever sees the work that happens under the surface; the late night and gna
shing teeth, the bills that are piling up on the sideboard or the tears when you’re just so stressed you have no other outlet. All they see is the glittering lights and free drinks that, voila, obviously appeared overnight.
‘So, ah, do I get an invite to opening night? I mean, I don’t know a thing about art, but it’ll be a good party at least,’ Hunter asks.
‘It’ll be open to the public, so I’m sure you’ll be welcome.’
He smiles proudly, as if I’ve just given him the keys to the city.
‘Anyway, how’s all that going?’ Frank looks at me. ‘Under control? Do you need any help with anything? We didn’t interrupt anything important today, did we?’
‘It’s going brilliantly, actually. And Christopher has been nothing short of amazing, from helping me into the local scene to making introductions, I’m not sure I’d be where I am without him pointing me in the right direction.’ I don’t answer the rest of the question because today was already planned, so it might be a little rude to answer in the affirmative.
‘Really?’ Lainey asks. ‘That’s an about-face.’
‘Really,’ I say. ‘I tried to talk to you about it the other day, but you hung up the phone.’
Frank frowns at Lainey.
‘Who’s Christopher?’ Hunter leans into the conversation again. ‘That tall guy today? I saw him through the window, he looks like a barrel of laughs.’
I feel myself wriggle further away from him as I draw back in horror. ‘He owes you a smile, does he?’
‘Katie.’ Lainey lays her hand atop of mine. ‘I think what he means is that he just looks quite serious.’
‘He can be, yes. I like that about him. But he has a wicked sense of humour once you get to scratch the surface.’
‘So, what is he? A business partner or friend?’
‘Yes.’ I look at Hunter.
Frank covers his eyes and winces.
‘He’s just someone she knows,’ Lainey excuses. I glare at her.
What happened to my friend who was ready to dismantle the patriarchy only weeks ago? The woman who sat in a pub and raged about the sausage factory has been replaced by someone who’s trying to shove my square head into a round hole for the sake of what? Setting me up with someone who’s so wildly inappropriate for me?
I feel so outrageously agitated that it’s like the walls are closing in on me and the chequered floor is stretching out further with each step. Everything’s Alice in Wonderland, and I’m suddenly too tall to squeeze through the door to freedom.
The longer I stay, the more desperately I want to go home, or to wherever Christopher is right now. Hell, if I had the money, I’d take an Uber out to Loxley and finish what we started in my bed this afternoon. But I have a table full of people staring at me, waiting for another answer. I excuse myself and head for the bar.
Standing on my own at the bar feels like a weight off my shoulders, like slacking off at work and hiding in the toilet from your boss when they’re on the warpath. My fingers hover over a ‘Please come and pick me up’ message, but I’m not sure I want to be that person tonight. It’s not that I’ll be doing anything wrong, but I worry it’ll be all too much trouble with Lainey and Frank. Then again, I don’t love that I’m making excuses for that, because why should I? Once again, I slip my phone away and turn back to the table.
Hunter is on his way over and desperately trying to stuff his Chapstick back in his pocket again.
‘I’ll get this, you go back to the table.’ He slips a fifty-pound note across the bar while I rattle around my pocket for the last of my change.
‘No, thank you. I’ll buy my own.’
‘Really, it’s fine. I don’t mind,’ he says. ‘I need to break this note anyway.’
It’s a moment in stark contrast to breakfast this morning and the two of us standing around emptying pockets to make up the last ninety-five pence of our bill. Twenty pence here, fifty there, and a final five pence that came tumbling out of my handbag at the last minute. I make eye contact with the bartender and roll my eyes.
Our bowling lane is ready when I return, Hunter hot on my heels and talking about a promotion at work, one that’s going to skyrocket him up the ladder, or so he says. Lainey interjects that she has everything under control tonight, talking about breaking off into teams; her and Frank against Hunter and me, naturally.
I think I could also retract my statement about never feeling like a third wheel, because tonight I feel like the third, fourth and transmission box all at once. A week away from getting married and they’re understandably handsy with each other. And it’s not even that that bothers me. It’s that it gives Hunter more than one idea and, while I manage to dodge him before his hand makes contact with my arse, he does manage a hip grab more than once.
‘Aren’t they amazing?’ Hunter leans in as we watch our friends dance at the top of the lane. I shout at them that we aren’t at the wedding reception yet and that they should calm down. ‘I’ll have what they’re having, right?’
‘Huh?’ I offer him a cursory glance.
‘I’m just saying, it would be nice to have what they have.’
I take a sip of water.
‘You know, I’m not far from here. My apartment, I mean. It’s in Kelham Island.’
I listen as he prattles on about the view from his balcony window. In fairness, it does sound like a lovely flat, an open plan red-brick converted warehouse. Thank the developers for triple-glazed windows, he says with a wink. When he asks where I live, I tell him it’s a short tram ride away and leave it at that. I don’t need him to know I live at the gallery. And then, I hear a sniff. Right. In. My. Ear.
‘What do you say we skip off on these two and I can show you the butler’s pantry? Maybe get to know each other a bit better?’ he asks. ‘It’s been a bit loud around here tonight.’
I look at him. ‘I’m quite happy here, thanks.’
‘Oh, come on, I have it on good authority you’re up for a good time.’
That cheerful façade I’ve done my best to maintain all night slides off the side of a cliff and sinks to the bottom of the ocean. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean I’m keen to keep things casual, too.’
‘What did you say?’ I glare at him.
‘Just a one-night thing if you like?’ He looks nervously to Frank, who’s now watching all this play out. ‘You know, if that’s still what you do?’
‘Now, you listen to me, you jumped up little shit.’ My nose flares and twitches. ‘Don’t you ever, ever touch me again, do you understand?’
He peers up at me, wide-eyed and nodding as I stand and grab my coat. My heart almost physically up and throws itself on the floor as I look at Frank and Lainey, these two people who I thought were my dear friends. But best friends wouldn’t have said something like that about me to another man. I’m certain I haven’t done anything tonight to give Hunter such an impression. Lainey steps down from the lane as I grab my coat, mutter a few choice words, and disappear to the loos.
I hold my phone above my head but there’s no service in the cubicle. I allow myself a pity cry, just enough to let the pressure off but not enough to make a complete tit of myself. Lainey shuffles in behind a few sets of feet.
‘Katie?’ She walks along peering under each door. I’m surprised nobody’s telling her to sod off. She stops when she sees my shoes. ‘Katharine, are you okay?’
‘No,’ I blub.
‘Do you want to talk about it? Did he do something inappropriate?’
I scoff and peer up at the fluorescent lights. All they do is make my eyes water again. ‘Are you kidding me right now?’
‘No, I’m not kidding at all,’ she says. ‘Please tell me if he did something.’
‘Have you been blind to all the unwanted touching, have you?’ I yank the toilet door open and unwind a mound of paper around my hand. ‘Or were you too busy telling him I was an easy lay?’
‘What?’ she shrieks, a dozen notches less snarky than she
was hours earlier. ‘No. Why on earth would I do that to you?’
‘Well, somebody told him that.’ I snivel, dabbing wet paper under my eyes. ‘“I have it on good authority that you’re up for a good time.” Who says that?’
‘It certainly wasn’t me.’
‘Did Frank?’ I grab at the basin and turn to face her. ‘Because someone must have.’
‘He wouldn’t do that.’ Her face is awash with sorrow, lips and the corners of her eyes turned down. ‘Frank adores you, you know that.’
‘You know, I love you like a sister, but I’m saddened to think that’s how one or both of you speak of me when I’m not around.’
Two of the other toilets empty. There’s a distinct, conspiratorial silence as the two women watch us nervously and we wait for them to clear out. I tear at the paper towel again.
‘I’m so sorry he’s made you feel like that, Katie,’ she says. ‘I just wanted to spend some time with you. It’s not the same since you started this gallery thing. We don’t see each other, it’s just text messages, and it kind of sucks.’
‘It kind of sucks because you kind of suck right now,’ I bite. ‘Every single time I’ve seen you lately, it’s been you-centric. Your menu cards. Needing paper right now. Paper which you didn’t even pay for, so thanks for doing that to my dad. You beg and plead that I have to be at your dress fitting, so I rush through a meeting to be there. Why? So your mother can insult me and I can listen to you talk about yourself all day.’
Her mouth gapes.
‘Where were you when I desperately wanted to talk to you the other day? I wanted to tell you how things were going with the gallery, and about how I’d met somebody and that, despite a rocky start, I really, really like him. That I can see things with him I only ever imagined with other men. But, again, it was all about what you needed from me. The minute you had what you wanted, you hung up on me mid-sentence.’
‘Look at you.’ She’s almost spitting as she speaks. ‘What, you think you’re amazing because you’re opening some tiny gallery? And Kit? Well, Frank wasn’t wrong in his assessment, was he? You’ve jumped straight on the first guy who looks at you.’
Accidentally in Love: An utterly uplifting laugh out loud romantic comedy Page 27