Love's Foolish Punch

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Love's Foolish Punch Page 4

by S M Mala


  ‘If you don’t want to talk about personal things then I’ll talk about mine. That way you get to know me better, and it looks real. When people ask about you, I’ll say you were hurt, and that was in the past. You’re moving on because you’re with me. Or you’re having some emotional meltdown. All the people around you can see I’m a big mistake and won’t be surprised when it ends.’

  To her comment, she received an appreciative nod.

  ‘That’s probably more like it,’ he laughed. ‘We can go shopping. I’ve got half an hour before I have a business meeting.’

  ‘And here I thought you were going to take me out.’

  The annoyed glance over his shoulder made her realise there was no chance.

  Then her eyes diverted to a newspaper flying across in the wind which landed just near her feet.

  It was a bad omen.

  There was an article featuring Sam, and she looked down at the crumpled mass realising he would always be there, floating in the background while she had to pretend all was well.

  The next thing, Molly was jumping up and down on the newspaper, making sure her boots were firmly digging into the picture of Sam.

  She had an internal rage that had been building for a long time, and she wanted to vent.

  It’s when she stopped, she realised Jamie was watching her.

  Smiling uncomfortably, she kicked the paper and started skipping past him as he stood there open mouthed. Then she forced a bright smile and said,

  ‘I hate rubbish.’

  ‘No way in hell am I wearing that!’

  Molly started to laugh.

  They were standing in the Spanish owned shopping outlet, and she could tell Jamie was getting pissed off. It was the umpteenth thing he’d held up, and she was about to shoot it down, once again.

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’ he asked, looking at the pale pink top then at her. ‘It’s all right.’

  ‘Jesus!’ she said, pulling off her duffle coat and throwing it to the floor. ‘You have to pick colours that don’t clash with me. With this…’ Molly pointed to her hair. ‘And this…’ Her finger was then directed to her face. ‘Certain colours are a problem.’ Taking a deep breath she sighed. ‘And I don’t like salmon pink.’

  Putting the top back on the rail, Jamie turned and narrowed his eyes.

  She could tell he was a man who was used to getting his own way. He unbuttoned his jacket to reveal a rather washed out denim shirt.

  ‘Now I like that,’ she said, pointing to his chest. ‘That’s the sort of thing I’d wear.’

  ‘Where do you shop again?’

  ‘I go to all sorts of places, when I have to. But mainly Squirrel buys me things and my mum. For years, my hand was the only thing on show which was covered in material.’

  ‘And your ex? What did he think about your style?’

  ‘Style?’ she snorted out a laugh which made her sound like a little pig. Jamie scowled. ‘That’s pushing it.’ Molly then thought hard. ‘He didn’t really mind how I dressed. Sort of preferred the tomboy look to be honest.’

  ‘I’m going to have to cancel my lunch,’ he said in all seriousness.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Molly, I need to take you out next weekend and introduce you to people.’

  ‘Anywhere nice?’ she asked, excited about the outing.

  It had been a long time since she’d gone anywhere, other than with family members or her best friend Sienna.

  ‘Two nights in a country hotel in Kent,’ he replied, not looking enthusiastic. ‘I’ve got to convince people that I suddenly fell in love with you.’

  Deep down she knew he was honest, but insulting nevertheless.

  She started to laugh at his aghast expression.

  ‘Can’t you say you met me through Squirrel, and you were deeply attracted by my intelligence and personality? Then they’d understand why I dress like this.’

  She looked down at her large polo neck jumper that reached her knees. Underneath was a pair of stretch trousers she bought from Marks and Spencer (she had five pairs as they were easy to put on and, more importantly, had an elasticated waist for ‘fat’ days). Her boots needed a polish, but they were biker boots and, in her opinion, she’d never seen a Hell’s Angel with shiny foot wear.

  It was then she caught him shaking his head from side to side.

  ‘I’m dreading this,’ he mumbled and then glanced at her. ‘Some of the places I’m taking you to, well, you have to look really smart and elegant. I’m not sure that can be done.’

  Again, she laughed.

  ‘You want to make me look good like in Dr Doolittle?’

  ‘He spoke to animals.’

  ‘Same thing if you’re trying to make me look like a lady.’

  Jamie smiled for the first time since they’d met that day.

  They looked at each other, both grinning. Molly had to be helpful.

  ‘With my body shape, I can’t wear too baggy or too fitted. I sort of like classically shaped clothing, nothing fancy, no ruffles or pleats. My favourite colours are red, blue, dark green, black, obviously, and anything that suits me. Because I am of petite stature-.’

  ‘Short.’

  ‘Yes, any long dresses have to be taken up six inches and my ability to walk in high heels is debateable.’ Molly let out a disgruntled sigh.

  ‘Ah,’ he said stepping closer. ‘So you do know what suits you and what you like.’

  ‘In recent months I’ve not cared.’ Biting her lip, she felt sick about saying the next bit, so looked down to the ground. ‘When Sam left me, I gave most of my clothes away, donating them to charity. It wasn’t my wisest move, but I needed to do something.’ Taking a massive breath, Molly knew the next thing would make her sound unstable. ‘When my cat died on 6th July, I cremated her with one of my favourite tops, striped thing, because she liked to sit on it. She was seventeen.’

  She noticed his feet had come into her vision. His boots were scruffy like her own footwear but guessed he bought them like that.

  ‘Molly,’ he whispered. ‘Will you look at me?’

  Gulping hard, she did.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Don’t tell anyone what goes through your head, okay?’ Jamie gently said, squeezing her arm. ‘It sounds a little crazy. Promise you’ll be nice and quiet, like I said, then the next thirteen weeks will fly by. Do you agree?’

  Molly forced one of her positive, bright smiles, nodding furiously.

  All of a sudden, she felt sad about Sam.

  But when she spoke of her cat, it was a far greater devastation because it made her feel alone, and had done so for months.

  It occurred to her that the idea of having company for the next three months would be a good thing.

  Seeing Jamie look a little confused, and probably scared that he was engaged to a mental person, made her grin.

  He wasn’t to know about her little breakdown and pure depression she went through, thinking there was no hope for the future.

  The only thing that kept her going was her pet cat and then when she died, everyone was surprised she didn’t have a meltdown.

  But Molly held it together well, pretending it was okay when it wasn’t.

  Just then she noticed a figure walk past the shop.

  It looked like Sam, but she knew it couldn’t be.

  She glanced out into the sky, and that’s how everything looked to her. Bleak, cold and grey.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Jamie asked.

  Molly examined the tall, handsome man towering over her, his eyes now etched with concern. There was no point putting up a fight and refusing to wear the clothes.

  This was a job worth twenty thousand pounds and would be put towards her building work and a long needed holiday. The remaining cash being stashed in her emergency ‘I will never work again professionally because I’m crap’ fund.

  ‘Pick out whatever you want,’ she sighed. ‘I don’t mind looking silly.’

  Week one of the engagement…south pawr />
  ‘It’s called prostitution.’

  Sienna was glaring at Molly. ‘Why are you doing this?’

  Sitting in the tea shop they regularly frequented, Molly let out a sigh and looked at the Christmas decorations going up in the windows opposite.

  ‘Can you give me some tips on how to apply make-up?’ asked Molly, licking the cream off her hot chocolate.

  ‘That costs.’

  ‘You’re a professional make-up artist, so you should only be too pleased to help me.’

  She checked out her best friend. They’d met at drama school, and Sienna was still as beautiful as ever.

  Her mother was African and her father French. She was tall and elegant, modelling in her teens and early twenties. Sienna always kept her hair very short, and she was three shades darker than Molly, with shiny conker coloured skin.

  Everyone adored her.

  When Molly and Sienna used to go out, Molly was never noticed and quite rightly so.

  Sienna was a head turner.

  But she decided not to pursue the acting path, preferring the make-up route. Now she was very successful, working on all sorts of exciting projects.

  And she’d landed Mr Right.

  Stevo was a brilliant music and commercials director. Together they had produced Molly’s godson, Mason. Like the glittering parents, he was now modelling aged three.

  Sometimes Molly had to wear sunglasses when she visited, her eyes dazzled by all their perfect gorgeousness.

  ‘And his name is what?’ her friend continued, sipping on her espresso.

  ‘Jamie Cohen. He owns boxing gyms around London,’ she replied, seeing her friend scowl. ‘And it’s not prostitution. Squirrel asked-.’

  ‘I knew he’d have something to do with it!’ laughed out Sienna, sitting back in her chair. ‘Your cousin is just a little chancer.’

  ‘He wants me to focus on something positive.’

  ‘This man? Jamie? What’s he like?’

  ‘Thirty-one, well-spoken and-.’

  ‘He’s screwing someone old enough to be his mother and now wants to get out of it. You better not say he’s a nice person because that doesn’t wash.’

  ‘He likes her but the woman’s husband is-.’

  ‘I don’t approve,’ Sienna said seriously, sitting up straight. ‘You’ve been through enough. I don’t want this man upsetting you.’

  Molly spooned the cream into her mouth and knew her friend had her best interests at heart.

  ‘I’m bored,’ Molly honestly replied. ‘Bored with my life, what I’m doing and how there’s so much nothingness to it. All I do, other than work, is write scripts and ideas that I don’t show anyone. I’m too scared to submit anything because I know that door will just be slammed shut in my face. And no man for two years. Not good.’

  Sienna got up and sat next to Molly, putting a comforting, slender arm, around her shoulders

  ‘You will find someone who will love you,’ she whispered in Molly’s ear. ‘And as for work? People forget, and you can always re-launch that ape toy of yours. Basil Brush made a successful comeback.’

  ‘But his sidekick wasn’t wanking someone off in a public place!’ hissed Molly, looking straight into Sienna’s intense dark brown eyes. ‘And why did they have to sack me? They could have just got rid of Tommy!’

  ‘Maybe they thought he was doing something naughty to the baboon,’ smirked Sienna.

  ‘You think he was trying to butt fuck my puppet?’

  Sienna burst out laughing and gave Molly a big kiss on the cheek.

  ‘How are you, Molly? In yourself?’

  Closing her eyes very quickly then darting Sienna a disgruntled glance, Molly knew what she was asking.

  ‘I’m not going to have a meltdown again,’ she said, seeing Sienna’s pained expression. ‘It didn’t last long, only a couple of weeks. Some people go on for months and years. I was let off lightly.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  Sienna’s mother had suffered a breakdown many years ago, and it was her best friend who had spotted the signs. Molly was unable to get out of bed and function like a human being, hiding under the duvet sobbing, sleeping or both.

  It was a dark time when Sam walked out.

  The reality of how shit her life had become hit home.

  ‘Are you in the right frame of mind to play this sort of game?’ added Sienna, stroking Molly’s hair. ‘Knowing what you went through, why would Squirrel even volunteer you?’

  ‘Squirrel still doesn’t know what happened. We said it was the flu.’

  ‘Molly!’

  ‘You know what he’s like. He’d get worried and fuss, very much like you do. My confidence is shattered, and I don’t know which way to turn. Sam keeps popping into my head. It still confuses and upsets me,’ she honestly replied. ‘He’s all over the place.’

  ‘Forget about Sam and move on.’

  ‘I’m trying but everywhere I look, I see his new sparkling life.’

  ‘He was never right for you.’

  ‘I thought he was.’

  ‘Your relationship wasn’t healthy,’ Sienna whispered. ‘He spent Christmas away with his friends, not his family. All he focussed on was getting ahead in his career. Jesus, you looked after him for years, and he never wanted for anything. The time you need his support, he ups and leaves. That’s not a nice man.’

  There had been fundamental problems with Sam.

  Before they split, even their sex life was infrequent but her ex-boyfriend wasn’t overtly sexual, though he made out to all and sundry he was.

  ‘I can polish up my acting skills when I do this stint.’

  ‘Lying! That’s what actors do. They lie about who they are.’

  ‘Yes I know but it’s cheaper than taking classes and, for once, I’m getting paid.’

  ‘Molly, be careful. You don’t know this man and he doesn’t seem to have good moral values. What do you need to do?’

  ‘I need to meet him today to go through my thirteen week schedule, including when I work, go out and all that. Then he tells me when I have to be available, and I can arrange my shifts in the office accordingly.’ Molly ignored the groan coming from her friend.

  Sienna grabbed her hand and examined the engagement ring before grimacing.

  ‘You say he spent nine ninety-nine on this?’ she said, looking at the diamond closely. ‘And it’s a fake?’

  ‘Sure it is. As fake as I am his fiancé. At least my left hand has come in useful other than fisting my puppet.’

  ‘You’re late!’

  That was her greeting when she arrived at his gym in Islington. Jamie was sitting behind a desk in an office before standing up.

  Molly was looking around, trying not to flinch when she heard the sound of people and punch bags being hit. It startled her.

  The place was very modern. There were quite a few men and women sparring or training. Music could be heard in the background, and she noticed two studios with glass partitions. People were partaking in a boxercise class.

  ‘Molly?’ she heard him say and turned.

  Today Jamie was looking normal and scruffier. He looked good which made Molly grin.

  ‘What?’ he asked with a grimace.

  ‘You look nice,’ she honestly replied. ‘The train got stuck on the tracks, that’s why I was late. I don’t have your mobile number so I couldn’t tell you.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Hand me your phone.’

  Molly reached into her bag and pulled it out. Jamie took it and put his number in, sent a text, then skimmed through it before handing it back.

  ‘I’m under ‘Jamie’.’

  ‘Obviously,’ she grinned, scrolling down and seeing his name. ‘And you’ve put me under ‘Molly’?’

  ‘I’ve put you under ‘fiancé’ so I don’t ‘forget.’

  ‘Okay,’ she replied, rummaging in her bag again. ‘I printed out the schedule as I don’t have your email.’

  ‘Okay. I think we nee
d to sit down and go through the finer things. I’ll text you my email address then you can send it to me again with all the changes.’

  ‘Sure will,’ she grinned and then jumped when she heard someone shout loudly.

  Turning on her heels, she noticed a large black man barking at someone in the ring.

  ‘Keep your guard up!’ he yelled. ‘Concentrate!’

  Then he banged the small man’s headgear with his very large finger.

  ‘That’s Mr Mac. He manages the gyms for me as well as trains the talent. A word of warning, be polite. He doesn’t like little quips and bad manners.’

  The man had rippling muscles and looked quite scary while shouting at the little skinny boxer.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll bump into him much.’

  ‘You will,’ said Jamie, standing next to her and shutting the door. ‘He’s a friend of mine and I have to introduce you to him.’

  ‘What as?’

  ‘My whirlwind romance.’

  Molly noticed Mr Mac glance over at them, and she instantly made eye contact.

  From first impression, he didn’t look too friendly.

  Looking up at Jamie, she noticed his lips were pursed then he glanced at her coat. Molly took the opportunity to remove it and show him what she was wearing.

  A black roll neck fitted sweater and jeans with new shiny black boots.

  ‘You know, you do dress like a boy,’ he sighed unhappily.

  ‘I was wearing a dress when I met you for the first time.’

  ‘Seriously Molly, that’s what the problem is. Even with what you’re wearing now, it’s what a bloke would wear.’

  ‘Are you saying I look butch!’ she exclaimed, looking down at her chest. ‘I don’t see men with these!’

  But, just then, she looked up and noticed there were a few gentlemen who did have larger and firmer breasts. Jamie grinned before shrugging his shoulders.

  ‘You need to look like a feminine woman.’

  He didn’t look too impressed as he sat back down behind the desk.

  No one ever said she looked like a boy before and was mulling it over whether that was where she was going wrong with the opposite sex.

  Suddenly Jamie jumped up and walked quickly up to her, placing a kiss on her cheek.

 

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