The Wrong Move

by Jennifer Savin

  And so when Matthew returned home, on what would be the final night she slept in their shared home, even after everything that he’d put her through, he was the one to end it. Although he often shouted about breaking up when he was drunk, something about this particular time, about his callousness and lack of effort to lie about all the other women she’d suspected he’d been sleeping with since the start of their relationship, served as the final blow. She’d sobbed, snot running down her chin and he looked over in repulsion.

  ‘I’m going to bed.’

  When she didn’t immediately follow, he began calling for her.

  ‘I said, we’re going to bed.’

  Taking a deep inhale, Jessie swore that this would be the last time she’d let him use her body like this. No matter how much Matthew apologised in the morning, as was their usual routine, this time there’d be no second chances. She’d wait until he was at work, then slip quietly out his life and begin breathing again.

  Jessie still hadn’t responded to Nicole’s worried questions.

  ‘Really, I’m so much better now we’ve split up. You should come and stay with me in Brighton sometime, meet my new flatmates.’

  Nicole squinted and she shook her head.

  ‘Jessie, we all heard that he showed up at your mum and dad’s house in the middle of the night and the police had to be called.’

  Jessie looked around the cramped room of the pub. Did everybody in here know what had happened? Could they all tell that she was still half-numb with fear, replaying the sound of his laugh over and over like a scratched CD stuck on loop in her mind? That she jumped whenever a man with messy brown hair, a khaki jacket or a gold chain necklace walked past her in the street. She was sure they were staring. Demi-Leigh was certainly peering over her glasses in Jessie’s direction.

  ‘I know you’re coming from a good place, but I’d rather not talk about Matthew tonight,’ she said, trying to sound firm. ‘I’m here to have a good time.’

  Nicole raised her hands apologetically.

  ‘Totally fair. I just want you to know that I’m here, should you need me.’

  The subject was swiftly changed and, as the night wore on, Jessie found herself partially able to forget about Matthew and really focus on spending time with her friends. She hadn’t felt this free in Chesterbury in years. The novelty of it was disarming.

  ‘Let’s get some shots in!’ she suggested, after they’d drained another bottle of wine.

  ‘Okay, but this has to be my last drink,’ Nicole laughed. ‘I can’t be hungover on Christmas Day again, my mum was furious with me last year.’

  Demi-Leigh followed them over to the bar.

  ‘To be fair, you did almost fall asleep on your dinner,’ she snickered. ‘I’m just going to call a taxi and we can drop you off on our way, Jessie.’

  Demi-Leigh headed to the door, phone in hand. It’d be quieter outside, easier to make the call. A few minutes later, she reappeared.

  ‘I’ve managed to flag one down. It’s waiting, so let’s go!’

  Jessie clipped her seatbelt in and rested her head against the window. Another challenge had been conquered. She’d had a successful night out in her hometown. Something that would seem so run-of-the-mill to most other people was a big milestone for her.

  As she opened the porch door to her parents’ house and waved goodbye to Demi-Leigh and Nicole, Jessie noticed something red on the tiled floor. It was a rectangular envelope with her name scrawled on it in familiar handwriting. Her stomach lurched. An invisible hand placed itself around her neck, choking away the breath. She opened the envelope and pulled out the card. Cramped blocks of text filled both sides of it. The first sentence read ‘I still love you’, the next ‘but I know people have to pay for their mistakes’. Jessie leant against the door frame. He’d been here. Her legs felt close to buckling. She was queasy. The headlights of a car, a red Fiat, snapped on across the street.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jessie saw the lights and ran into the house, slamming the front door behind her, and up the stairs. Her whole body shook. She raced to the bathroom at the front of the house which faced the street and peered out. The car was no longer there. He’d gone. She imagined Matthew laughing as he pulled away from the kerb, knowing he still had the desired effect on her. Humiliation surged. She stayed looking out the bathroom window, her mind swirling, heart pounding, until eventually the sky began to lighten. When the birds started singing, Jessie made her way back downstairs for a glass of water, then curled up into a ball on her dad’s armchair which had the best view of the front door. She wanted to give herself as much warning time as possible if he came back. Should she call the police again? Fat load of good that had done before. A blanket had been thrown over the back of the armchair. She drew it tightly around herself, then drifted off into a fitful sleep. A few hours later, her dad gently shook her awake.

  ‘Merry Christmas, poppet,’ he said, handing her a fried egg sandwich. ‘Good night, was it?’

  She blinked a few times, then remembered the card stuffed into her handbag, the erratic handwriting, the revving sound of Matthew’s engine. She dreaded to think what he might do next.

  ‘If only you knew the half,’ she replied quietly.

  She hadn’t even bothered taking her coat off. But at least a hangover was a plausible alibi as to why she didn’t feel like eating or talking much that day.

  ‘We’ll need to set off for Grandma’s house soon,’ her dad said. He ruffled her hair and returned to the kitchen, whistling as he went.

  Grandma’s. Matthew had never been there. She’d be safe until Boxing Day at least, then she could head straight back to Brighton. It might even be nice having some time alone in the flat until the others returned in the new year. Head space. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

  Sofie was the second to arrive back at the flat after Jessie, the day before New Year’s Eve.

  ‘Hello, stranger! I didn’t expect anybody else to be in,’ she said, switching the kettle on and slinging her coat on the table.

  Jessie looked up from her spot on the sofa. She’d barely moved from it in days, and when she had it was only to walk down the road in search of more family-sized bags of Doritos.

  ‘Did you have a nice Christmas?’ Sofie asked, launching herself onto the opposite sofa. ‘How come you’re back so early?’

  Jessie lowered the volume on the TV.

  ‘Lovely Christmas, thanks. Oh, I’m on call for work tomorrow,’ she lied.

  ‘On New Year’s Eve? That’s a rough deal,’ Sofie commiserated.

  A woman on the television gasped as Santa’s sleigh landed in her front garden.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve never been big on New Year’s anyway. What about you?’ Jessie asked, eager to change the subject.

  The kettle rattled on the counter.

  ‘Henry’s parents always throw a big party. Figured I’d come back today and give myself time to prepare.’ She laughed. ‘Both physically and mentally.’

  Jessie laughed too. She could only imagine the type of people Henry’s family might be. If they were anything like him, it’d be all swagger and self-indulgent stories.

  ‘Tea?’

  ‘I’d love one, thanks.’

  Would it be rude to pry more about the party? Visions of coiffed, Gatsby-esque attendees drifting through marbled corridors sprang to mind. So very different to Sofie and her boundless enthusiasm for whatever the latest wellness craze or political cause was.

  Jessie couldn’t help herself. ‘What sort of shindig is it tomorrow, then?’

  ‘Well, it’s quite fun really, although I know I’ve probably made it sound awful. There’s a big fireworks display, champagne fountains, that sort of thing.’ Sofie paused, pulling a face. ‘Obviously, all of Henry’s family are super posh and find it really “interesting” that I’m a vegan and come from a single-parent family, but Henry and I usually just sneak off to his room with some booze after midnight and play cards. I think he sometim
es finds them difficult too.’

  Jessie imagined Sofie would stick out like a sore thumb in that sort of crowd.

  ‘Must be a good place for people-watching at least?’

  ‘The best! Last year one of his uncles called my tattoos “jolly amusing”. You should come along, if you fancy it? Henry’s mum would love you, actually.’

  It was sweet of her to offer, but Jessie didn’t feel much like drinking or celebrating. When her anxiety levels were at a crescendo she found it difficult holding a conversation with friends, never mind strangers. She constantly misheard things, often thinking somebody had called her name when they hadn’t. She’d not switched her phone on since it ran out of battery on Christmas Day, either.

  ‘That’s really kind of you, but I said I’d be on call for New Year’s Day too, so better not risk it.’

  ‘Shame. I hope you get paid extra for that?’

  Jessie felt bad, thinking about poor Juliette and Pamela who really would be stuck in the office.

  ‘Mind if I hang out here with you tonight?’ Sofie asked, reaching over to the bag of Doritos on the coffee table, checking that they were dairy-free. ‘We could stream a movie or something.’

  Now that she’d made the suggestion of company, Jessie realised how much nicer it would be than sitting around on her own, fretting, moping and picking at her nails. Sofie was so kind and easy-going, she didn’t need to put on a front around her.

  ‘Perhaps you can help me pull together an outfit too? You’re so naturally chic, you remind me of one of those Made In Chelsea girls or something.’

  The following morning, Sofie left the flat early. She’d booked a hair appointment before the party and wanted a total restyle, a change to bring in the new year. Cutting her hair had always been a therapeutic process. She loved watching the dead ends fall to the salon floor, imagining any negative thoughts – about what she was doing with her life, whether or not her relationship was really working – shedding with them. When the stylist spun her back around to face the mirror, she gasped at her reflection. It had been a long time since Sofie had framed her face with a blunt fringe. The previous home dye pastel colours were gone, replaced with a sturdy all-over deep chocolate brown and swirls of caramel highlights carefully placed throughout. It looked just like the picture on Jessie’s Instagram that she’d shown the stylist.

  Sofie hoped that Henry would be pleased, as it was an offhand comment of his that had inspired her. Something about how well put together Jessie was and how she had such a ‘classic’ style. The more she thought about it, the more Sofie agreed. Jessie was so beautiful, and although she was sure Henry never meant to sting at her feelings, underneath her carefree hippy façade, she still had a nagging worry that her boyfriend wanted her to be like the privately educated women his mother was constantly introducing him to. Women like lovely Jessie. She tipped the hairdresser, rebooked for six weeks’ time and headed to Henry’s parents’ place in the country. For once, she felt quietly confident about spending time with them. They were about to meet Sofie Version 2.0.

  Back at the flat, Jessie sat on her bed. She could feel herself edging closer towards a darker, angrier place. Her festive break hadn’t been remotely peaceful. It enraged her that her own mum still couldn’t see how controlling Matthew had been throughout the entirety of their relationship. She’d even asked how he was over Christmas dinner at Grandma’s, making no mention of his ‘drunken episode’, which almost prompted Jessie to throw a plate on the floor. It was easier to just stay quiet and say, ‘He’s fine.’ In her mum’s defence, it had taken Jessie herself years to realise all of the mind games she’d been subjected to so how could anybody on the outside be expected to understand? Matthew was such a charmer around her friends and family, and she’d been the one to play down his drunken banging on the front door and shouted threats through the letter box as a one-off.

  Fireworks burst and hollered outside. Jessie wished Lauren or Priya were there, or that she’d taken up Sofie’s invitation and gone to the party. She grabbed her laptop from the bedside table and opened Facebook, then began scrolling aimlessly through her newsfeed which was full of shiny, smiling faces, photos of friends from university posing in glittery outfits, wishing all of their loved ones a happy and healthy year ahead. Still no word from Magda. Priya had checked in at The Mash Tun, and uploaded a selfie with her girlfriend, Zoe, who Jessie knew and liked well enough. She looked around her bedroom. The anger in her belly strengthened. This isn’t how she wanted to start a new year. She heaved herself off the bed, grabbed a coat and ran out into the night.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sofie returned to the flat around lunchtime, just as Jessie was making pasta in the kitchen – the first proper food she’d cooked herself in days. She was glad she’d forced herself out for a couple of drinks with Priya, who’d shrieked with delight upon seeing her walk into the pub, and Zoe. It had helped snap her out of her funk a bit.

  ‘What do you think, then? New year, new me and all that jazz!’

  Sofie swished her head around like a Pantene advert, pouting at Jessie.

  ‘Wow, you look so different!’ she replied. ‘It really suits you, Sofe.’

  ‘Honestly?’

  Sofie was pleased that Jessie had voiced her approval and nodded enthusiastically, her opinion being the one she most respected out of all the flatmates. A saccharine, fruity smell suddenly invaded her nostrils. Lauren walked into the room, a vape pen in hand.

  ‘Honeys, I’m home!’

  She looked at Sofie and did a double take.

  ‘Oh my God, you’ve changed your hair!’

  Again, Sofie preened and twirled, pretending to walk down an invisible catwalk.

  ‘And you’ve quit smoking?’ she replied.

  Lauren held the pen up to the room.

  ‘New Year’s resolution, I’m trying to ditch the fags. Seeing if this helps.’

  As Sofie busied herself with unpacking a Sainsbury’s bag of cut-price veg, she didn’t notice Lauren nudging Jessie and whispering.

  ‘I didn’t realise you were both hanging out in the flat,’ Lauren said softly. ‘I’d have come back too if I’d have known.’

  ‘I’ve been here since Boxing Day, but Sofie only got back the day before yesterday,’ Jessie replied. ‘It’s so great to see you.’

  She hugged Lauren and hoped that Lauren hadn’t messaged her while she’d been ignoring her phone. It was time to get it charged and reconnect with the world.

  ‘Take two guesses as to where she got the inspiration for this new look from?’

  At first, Jessie didn’t quite understand. Sofie looked nice. Her new hairstyle suited her, surprisingly so, considering what a contrast it was to her previous choice of grown out candy floss pink.

  She studied Sofie as she made her way around the kitchen, pulling out a saucepan from the top cupboard and filling it with water. Her movements seemed more restricted than before, somehow, as though each one was being carefully considered. Her usual incessant humming had vanished. The penny dropped.

  It was the first time Jessie had seen Sofie wearing anything with long sleeves too, covering up the delicate swirls of cherry blossom she had inked all along her right arm. The navy polo neck she had on in place of her trademark crop tops, come rain or shine, wasn’t entirely dissimilar to one she wore to work herself. Lauren widened her eyes.

  ‘It’s only you she’s spent much time with lately,’ Lauren whispered. ‘I don’t want to freak you out, but I think she came back early hoping to catch you alone. I think she’s jealous that we’re friends too.’

  Jessie stayed silent. That couldn’t be true. It made no sense. Sofie said she came back to get ready for the party. Besides, why would anybody want to look like boring old Jessica Campbell?

  ‘I guess it’s flattering? If it is deliberate, but I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. Sofie’s probably run out of other colours to dye her hair by this point.’

  She’d only just pulled herself to
gether, so the last thing Jessie wanted was to be caught in the middle of a flatmate tug of war. She watched Sofie put on a slick of dusty pink lipstick, similar to one she often wore.

  Don’t be silly, she told herself, we’re all friends. Jessie smiled, rising to her feet. ‘Guys, I’m knackered after last night. I’m going to have a lie down.’

  Lauren looked worried.

  ‘I’ve not annoyed you, have I?’ she asked, her voice still low. ‘I messaged you over the Christmas break but didn’t hear anything back.’

  Jessie shook her head.

  ‘God no, so sorry about that. My phone’s been playing up, so I’ve not bothered charging it. Thought I’d have a bit of a digital detox,’ she replied earnestly, knowing she’d definitely have jumped to the same conclusion if it had been the other way round.

  ‘Sounds like a blessing in disguise.’ Lauren looked relieved. ‘I think I need one of those. Let’s catch up later then?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  Upstairs, Jessie examined her own fringe and caramel highlights in the bathroom mirror. Plenty of people had blunt fringes, it wasn’t like she was the first woman on the planet to have ever had their hair cut this way. If Sofie had deliberately gone for a look similar to hers, well then, it was a compliment. Wasn’t it? Maybe it meant she wasn’t so dull after all. Nobody had ever wanted to copy her before. Back in her bedroom, Jessie searched through the boxes of clothes tucked away under her bed, just to check that her own navy polo top was still there as it ought to be. It wasn’t. Her heartbeat quickened; being stolen from by a housemate she liked but didn’t really know all that well, was less flattering. She’d never go into Sofie’s room and take something of hers without permission; it wasn’t that sort of friendship. Jessie tried to think whether their piles of washing could have been cross-contaminated before they’d both headed home for Christmas. They often shared drying racks, so perhaps it was an innocent mistake on Sofie’s behalf? It was perfectly plausible. But somehow, she didn’t think it was that.