His Other Lover

by Lucy Dawson

  I can remember it like it was yesterday, running breathlessly and excitedly up the stairs in Dan’s halls of residence, the straps of my overnight bag digging into my shoulder. Ringing the doorbell, one of his friends opening the front door and going, “Mia? Er…” his eyes darting nervously toward Dan’s closed door, “he’s not in right now.” Me saying confusedly, “But I can hear his stereo.” Him looking embarrassed and me suddenly realizing there was something in that room I wasn’t meant to see. Pushing past him, calling, “Dan? Hello? It’s me!” and shoving the door open. Dan’s horrified face as he reached for his T-shirt, shouting “Mia! Don’t! It’s not what it looks like! We just got drunk and fell asleep!” Me realizing someone was in bed with him and somehow getting across his room while Jay-Z blared out “Hard Knock Life,” my bag slipping off my shoulders and my train ticket falling from my fingers as he scrabbled out of bed, knocking over a can of lager and an ashtray, still in his jeans, the stale smell of cigarettes and musty boys’ clothes in the air. Me shouting, “What’s going on?,” hot tears springing to my eyes as I tried to pull back the duvet cover while this girl clasped it tightly around her. Dan’s arms around me, attempting to hold me back, me wriggling free, him going “Shit! Oh shit!” as I tore desperately at the duvet and ripped it back…to reveal Katie’s frightened face.

  The funny thing is I can’t remember how on earth I got back to university after that. I just remember walking back into the student kitchen in our halls and Louise looking up from the magazine she was reading and exclaiming, “You’re back? Wasn’t he there?” as I promptly burst into tears.

  I cried solidly for about twenty-four hours with Louise and Amanda sitting beside me, fending off nosy parkers on our corridor and random people knocking on my door shouting, “phone call.” Louise finally went down when Katie rang for the hundredth time and told her I never wanted to speak to her again and that she was a fucking bitch. Amanda shouted, “You’re a two-timing lying shit!” out of the window when Dan imploringly shouted up, begging to be let in, saying that he’d traveled all the way from Newcastle to see me—that he had to see me, had to explain, needed me to take him back. Amanda chucked some cold noodles down at him and he gave up in the end and went home.

  I never saw Dan again after that, apart from once in Birmingham New Street Station, of all places, about four years later. I glanced up and there he was in a suit, clutching a newspaper, a couple of platforms away, just staring at me. It was one of those weird moments that feel like everything and nothing all in one go. I looked at the first boy I ever had sex with and who had passionately kissed me for a whole afternoon once, only pausing to tell me he loved me and that we’d be together forever—and he smiled politely. He half waved and I half waved back. Then my train pulled in and that was it.

  As for Katie, I didn’t see her at all for five years after that afternoon. It was quite easy to avoid her. I stayed in when I went home for the holidays and got used to hearing my mum say, “She won’t come to the phone, Katherine, I’m afraid.” I took a year out after university that I spent traveling and when I finally moved back to England, penniless and desperate for a bed that was clean and in one place, I built my social life in London with my old uni friends. Our paths simply never crossed.

  Until one day I walked into a café to get a coffee and, bizarrely, there was Katie, sitting on her own, reading a magazine. She looked up as I walked in and saw her and we both froze.

  Neither of us spoke for what felt like forever, until she finally said, “Well, what a small world. Or fate. One of the two. Why don’t you join me?”

  I think I was so stunned to see her after all this time that I did as I was told. We talked about where she was living, how her mum and dad were, where I worked, what I was up to. Everything but what had happened all those years ago.

  We carried on for about half an hour like that, politely trading stories and inconsequential details when she suddenly blurted, “I never properly slept with him, you know.”

  The air sucked out of the space around us and I looked at her directly. “I saw you in his bed. I was there, remember?”

  She looked at me pleadingly. “I really didn’t set out to do anything. I just went up to see him, he was my friend first if you remember. We all went out and got trashed, came back blind pissed and I slept in his bed. I woke up to find him kissing me.”

  “So it was his fault?”

  She sighed. “No, it was my fault too. I should have told you I was going up there. Neither of us should have got pissed. I should have told him to get off…”

  “But you didn’t,” I said quietly.

  There was silence.

  She looked at the table. “I should have done. I’m sorry.” Reaching for a sugar wrapper she began to play with it. “It’s not like you would have stayed with him anyway,” she said eventually.

  “How do you know?” I said quickly. “I might have.”

  We fell silent again.

  I picked up a ketchup sachet and fiddled with the corners of it as I stared at the table and thought about Dan. “Suppose it had all happened differently.” I looked up at her challengingly. “If I hadn’t come up for that weekend to surprise him, would I ever have known? Would you ever have told me?”

  She looked back at me unflinchingly. “Probably not. Because it meant nothing.”

  “It didn’t mean nothing—it meant everything! I lost my boyfriend…and my best mate.”

  She went quiet for a moment. “I lost you, too.” She ripped fiercely at the sugar wrapper and stared at the table. “And I really missed you.”

  Then she looked up. “I’m sorry,” she said simply. “Can you forgive me?”

  ELEVEN

  I make my way back into the kitchen to pour the milk down the sink and wash up the saucepan. This time Gloria positively ignores me. She’s also ignored the phone on the floor next to her though, which is good. I ease the kitchen door gently shut behind me and slowly let the sink fill. Amanda and Louise always said I made a mistake in letting Katie back in after the first time she betrayed me. I wonder what they would say now?

  At the time, they accepted my decision to forgive her with good grace, even though they both made it clear they thought I was mad. Slowly but surely Katie came back into my life—and became an important part of it. Ironically it was because of her that I met Pete. It was Katie I had been waiting for at the bar that night when Pete came over to me. Had she not stood me up, I may never have met him.

  “Do you like him?” I asked her shyly, after I’d introduced them for the first time.

  “He seems very nice,” she said.

  “It’s just—I think he could be The One.” I’d blushed and my face split into a broad grin.

  Her eyes widened. “Bloody hell! Really?”

  “Oh God—I don’t know! I hope so…it’s really early still but…I think so…yeah.”

  “Wow! Well, if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” She smiled at me and I reached out and gave her hand a quick, grateful squeeze.

  “You deserve it,” she said.

  Pete had seemed to like Katie, too. “She’s very funny,” he said when I quizzed him.

  “Do you think she’s pretty?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “She’s all right…very girly. She dresses a bit—weird.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a little secretly pleased. “She likes to stand out from the crowd.”

  He looked at me and grinned. “Well, I didn’t notice if anyone was looking at her, I was too busy looking at you.”

  When Katie’s relationship with her boyfriend fizzled out, I was actually pleased. He was an idiot and anyway I wanted Katie to hook up with Pete’s flatmate, who I was convinced was perfect for her. I had happy thoughts about the four of us going on double dates, then eventually holidays…it was all mapped out. I invited Katie round for dinner with Pete to lay the foundations. I wanted to suss out her feelings and get Pete’s input.

  I’d known I was going to be a little later
back than planned, but that hadn’t mattered to me. Pete had a key to my flat and I knew he would let Katie in.

  And that’s exactly what happened. Holding a bottle of wine I pushed the front door open to hear Pete talking and Katie laughing. The sound of them getting on together was nice. I kicked my shoes off and padded into the sitting room.

  I don’t know what suddenly made me feel so uneasy. The room looked just as I had left it that morning. They were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa and Pete jumped up immediately and said, “Hi, babe! You’re back! Wine? We’ve got a bottle on the go,” before kissing me and going to get an extra glass. I looked at Katie. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes had gone glittery—always a sign with her that she was a couple of drinks up.

  “Hello, you!” She stood up to hug me. I thought I saw something hidden behind her smile, but I said nothing. Just watched her quietly as she flicked her hair over her shoulder and sat back down on the sofa, not quite meeting my eyes as she began to tell me about her day.

  After supper Pete and I snuggled up on the sofa, him affectionately stroking my hair. Katie was being witty about a guy who wanted to date her at work, but I was quieter than usual. We got on to Pete’s flatmate and she said she’d love to meet him. When her cab finally arrived she started to gather her things, asking me if I was around the following day and promising she’d call me in the morning. She hugged me tightly on the doorstep and looked at me just long enough to make my heart lurch, before turning and clattering off up the steps.

  Closing the door I walked back into the sitting room, where Pete had flicked the TV on. I hesitated for a moment but then I heard my voice say, surprisingly calmly, “Is there something going on with you and Katie?”

  An hour later we were still arguing.

  “You’re not listening to me! I’m not trying to say that what she did was okay, but I think she was a little bit lonely, a bit drunk.” Pete looked at me earnestly. “She very badly misread the situation. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” I looked at him incredulously. “So let me get this straight. One minute she’s telling you about how sad she is that her bloke has dumped her and the next she’s trying to kiss you? I’m sorry, but I’m really, deeply confused as to what fucking part of that is all right!”

  “Okay, okay,” Pete soothed. “I can totally see why you’re angry.”

  A strangulated laugh escaped from me. “Oh you can? That’s big of you—thanks!”

  “Hey!” He looked surprised. “It’s not my fault this happened.”

  There was an ugly silence.

  “Oh hang on,” Pete stood up and looked directly at me. “You can’t actually think what I think you’re thinking?”

  “I don’t know what to think!” I shouted. “One minute everything is fine, the next you’re telling me this. I can’t take it in…I…”

  I couldn’t look at him. I just had a picture in my head of Katie on my sofa, fingers curled round the bowl of a wineglass, red liquid swirling gently as she moved forward to kiss him. It made me feel sick. Sick to the core of my being.

  “I told you!” Pete said, starting to get annoyed again. “We were sitting on the sofa, she was rabbiting on about this bloke who’s dumped her and how she couldn’t even get a total twat to stay with her. I said that she’d meet someone nice if she just hung on in there and that, honestly, there are good blokes out there. Then I patted her leg. It was just a friendly gesture!” He threw his arms up in exasperation. “I’d do that to anyone—your mum, Clare, my mum for God’s sake! Then she gave me this weird look, I felt uncomfy and I asked if she’d like another drink. Just as I went to stand up, she leaned over and kissed me.”

  “On the mouth?”

  “Yes, Mia, on the mouth.”

  “And you’re sure it wasn’t just a friendly ‘thanks for being nice’ kiss?”

  “Er no, I think I’m long enough in the tooth to tell the difference between that sort of kiss and the kind she tried to give me.”

  I flushed hot with anger and said nothing. He stayed quiet too and just looked at me.

  “You’re absolutely sure that’s what happened?” I said rigidly.

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “Because you did say she was pretty.”

  “Oh my God!” He threw his arms heavenward again. “I said I thought she was all right! What did you want me to say? Actually as it happens, I don’t especially think she’s pretty—I don’t think about her full stop. She’s your mate, who I was trying to be nice to because of you. Jesus!” He dropped down on to the sofa and threw a cushion to one side. “Cut me some slack!”

  “How would you feel if one of your mates tried to kiss me?” I exclaimed.

  “I’d fucking kill them,” he said instantly, “but I wouldn’t be angry with you.”

  I said nothing, just looked at him.

  He looked really pissed off. “Funnily enough, Mia, I trust you. I trust you 150 percent and that’s everything to me. Have I ever, ever given you any reason to doubt me?”

  “No,” I said truthfully.

  “Well then.” He glowered. “I can’t believe you’d even think I’d do something like that to you. And with your best friend of all people! Thanks very much.”

  “Just calm down,” I said, suddenly tired. “Don’t get angry with me.”

  “I’m not! I’m just…I try to be nice to her…I listen to her, even though she’s seriously boring. She tries it on, I tell you and in return I get this! You know what I honestly think about her? I think anyone who treats you with that little respect doesn’t deserve to be your friend. I certainly wouldn’t want someone like that in my life and, yes, I have a problem with her now, because she’s done something that’s made trouble between you and me. I’m not having that. You’re too important to me.” With that, he got up and strode out of the room.

  I just sat still for a moment, trying to stop the out-of-control roundabout of thoughts in my head. Finally I got up and went to find him.

  He was standing in the dark kitchen, leaning his hands on the work surface and looking out of the window. I went up behind him and gently put my hand on his arm, slowly turning him to face me.

  “You promise me that’s what happened?” I said.

  He sighed again and made a helpless gesture. “How many times? Yes! That’s what happened! I’m really sorry that your friend tried it on with me, but I’m not going to take the blame for something that wasn’t my fault. I could have lied and I could have pretended nothing happened and in some ways that would have been easier because it would have saved you being hurt by Katie, and I never want to see you hurt. But it still wouldn’t have been the right thing to do.” With that, he padded sadly off to bed.

  Half an hour later I was outside Katie’s front door hammering like mad and ringing the bell repeatedly. Nothing.

  I thumped my fist on the door again and finally a light came on. A shadowy figure moved down the hall to the door. “Who is it?” she called.

  “It’s me.”

  “Mia?” I heard locks unbolt and she threw open the door, rubbing her eyes sleepily and pulling her dressing gown tighter round her. “Are you okay?”

  I pushed past her into the hall. She closed the door behind me and turned to face me, looking confused. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, something’s wrong!” I burst. “How could you?”

  Her hair was slightly disheveled and she hadn’t bothered to take her makeup off before getting into bed; she had a black smear of mascara down one cheek like war paint.

  “Look, I’ve just woken up, come in and sit down.” She moved toward the living room but I blocked her.

  “I don’t want to come in! I want you to tell me just what you thought you were doing?”

  “About what?”

  “Don’t ‘about what’ me! You know what! About Pete and you, tonight!”

  She sighed. “I thought this was going to happen.” She shook her head slightly, almost as if she was somehow disappointed
at the predictability of it all.

  “You thought this was going to happen…What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I saw it in your eyes the second you got home tonight that you knew something was wrong. You forget how well I know you, Mia—how long we’ve been friends.”

  “Friends? Don’t you dare talk to me about friendship!” I was incredulous. “No friend would do what you did to me tonight.”

  She didn’t flinch. “And what did I do?” she asked.

  “Don’t play games with me.” I raised my voice. “You kissed Pete.”

  “Just calm down. You’re very angry and you’re not thinking straight.”

  “Don’t patronize me!” I shouted. “You kissed my boyfriend.”

  “Keep your voice down!” she instructed bossily. “It’s 11:30 at night and I don’t want the neighbors hearing you wailing like a teenager. Jesus, Mia, we’re not at school any more. Listen to yourself! And for your information I didn’t kiss Pete—he kissed me.”

  “You liar! You bloody liar!”

  “Fine, have it your way.” She tiredly walked past me into the living room.

  “Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you!” I followed her in and grabbed her arm, spinning her round to face me.

  “Please let go of my arm, Mia. I know you’re angry but it’s not okay to pull me about like that.”

  “Oh shut up!” I yelled. “Just for once, stop being Katie-fucking-knows-it-all-and-knows-best. Just admit it! At least do me the courtesy of admitting it.”