by Lisa Jewell
Then he’d taken some tea up to Millie and she’d opened her eyes and smiled at him. ‘Feel revolting,’she’d croaked, ‘want to die.’She’d rubbed her eyes and tugged at her hair and Tony had wanted to pick her up and hold her and make her feel better. He’d had to go, then, leave Ness and Millie in his flat, both rumpled and sore and in a state of semi-undress, and his drive into work had had a sort of surreal quality to it. He couldn’t quite believe what had happened the night before.
He’d kissed Millie.
He’d fallen out with Sean.
He’d told Ness he loved her.
And for that brief moment in time, he’d meant it.
The next few days of Tony’s life had felt strangely accelerated, like he was on speed or something. He’d gone to work, been super-efficient, joked with his staff, made decisions, forgotten to eat. At the weekend he and Ness had leapt around the place doing chores, shopping, shagging, socializing. He hadn’t felt the need to drink very much because he was so high on life. They’d borrowed the dog from Jo on Sunday and walked around Dulwich Common for about four hours and the dog had got tired before him. He felt liberated, he felt young again. The world suddenly seemed like a great big pot of possibilities. He couldn’t see any problems, only opportunities.
But the strange thing about the way he was feeling was that although it should have been happiness it wasn’t. It was some other kind of emotion entirely. He felt curiously disconnected from everything, vaguely numb. He felt like a character in a film, like everything was scripted and someone else had already decided what was going to happen so he may as well just kick back and relax. Thoughts of the consequences of what was happening in his life would flit through his mind occasionally, but he’d just ignore them, almost like they were the commercial break in between the action.
He phoned Millie three times that weekend, checking up on her, finding out what had happened with her and Sean, reassuring her, looking after her. They didn’t mention the kiss, but it was there in their conversations, almost like they were both waiting for the other one to say something. But that fact that neither of them did spoke volumes. They both knew what that kiss had really been about and in a way it had cleared the mists and brought them even closer together. Instead they talked about Sean and how he was still in Catford and whether or not Millie was going to leave him and how she was feeling and what was going to happen about the baby. Hugely, vastly, enormously important conversations about life and love and everything in between. But every time he put the phone down he’d almost forget what they’d talked about. Everything he did seemed to exist in a little bubble, independent of everything else. There was no connection between any of the elements of his life, no continuity.
He’d never felt better.
And now this. Fourteen stone something. Everything was tickety-boo. Life was regaining its golden hue.
He beamed around the room and everyone beamed back at him. He felt like he loved everyone, even Kelvin. Tonia gave him an extra special smile and a little wink. He blushed and looked at his shoes.
‘So, would you like to talk about your week, Tony?’ said Jan. ‘Any particular problems? Any triumphs?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘not really. I’ve just been following the rules. Being a good boy.’
‘So you’ve found it fairly straightforward?’
‘Yeah,’ he smiled, ‘must be beginner’s luck.’ He laughed and everyone else laughed and Jan turned to the next person. He listened raptly to the stories as they talked about their week. He totted up the combined weightloss as people got on and off the scales and calculated that between the eight of them they’d lost a whopping stone and a half – and that was including the fact that Kelvin had put on three pounds. He was so excited by this achievement that after the session he could barely wait to go to Bubbles with the group. He wanted to talk to people, to be sociable.
He found himself sitting next to Tonia again and this time he reciprocated her flirtatiousness.
‘So,’ she said, running her taloned fingertips up and down the stem of her glass, ‘weightloss seems to agree with you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, just that you seem a bit more animated than last week.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Last week I couldn’t help feeling like you were a bit distracted – had a bit on your mind. But this week, well, you’re just dynamic.’
‘Dynamic, eh?’ he smiled at her. ‘Well, I suppose I’m just having a good week.’
‘That’s good,’ she smiled at him. ‘Any particular reason?’
He thought about it for a moment and smiled. ‘No,’ he said, ‘just one of those weeks where nothing seems like a problem, I suppose, where life suddenly seems really simple and uncomplicated.’
‘God, I could do with some of that,’ she laughed. ‘What’s your secret?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, thinking, Telling your brother how you really feel about him, getting off with his girlfriend and then having the best sex of your life straight afterwards with your long-term girlfriend, that sort of thing. ‘Just waking up one morning and not giving a shit any more, I suppose,’ he said.
She laughed and looked into his eyes and he laughed and looked into his wine glass. He could have her, he thought, triumphantly, he could have Tonia. She was his. She thought he was fantastic. All he’d have to do was switch on the charm and he could have anything he wanted. If Kylie was to walk in here now he could probably have her, too. And Tamsin Outhwaite. And all the girls in S Club 7. He was invincible.
He didn’t want her, though, that was the strange thing. He didn’t know what he wanted. There was no room in his seratonin-flooded brain for thinking about what he actually wanted. All he was capable of was doing – not planning, not thinking, just reacting.
He finished his glass of wine and said goodbye to everyone. When he said goodbye to Tonia he gave her an extra meaningful kiss on the cheek, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He got into his car and drove home with the roof down, music turned up full volume and singing at the top of his voice, not caring that he looked like a wanker, not even realizing that he looked like a wanker.
There seemed to be women everywhere as he drove, hordes of them, all dressed in that summer’s-on-its-way style that he loved – glimpses of pale toes and ankles, midriffs and shoulders. Soon it would be officially hot, and legs and backs and entire stomachs would be visible, but in a way Tony preferred the timid revelations of springtime flesh.
Women turned to look at him as he drove, beautiful women, young women. He looked back at them, coolly detached, safe in the knowledge that they were his, he could have them, any one of them. All he’d have to do was stop his car, open the passenger door, let them in.
He parked his car outside his flat and whistled as he made his way through the communal parts, picking up his mail, taking the steps two at a time. Ness was there when he opened the door, sitting on the sofa reading the Standard, wearing really quite a nice floral-print dress with puffy sleeves and a low-cut bodice. A bottle of wine was open on the table in front of her.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ she grinned, leaping to her feet to greet him.
‘I love that dress,’ he said holding her at arm’s length to admire it. ‘It really suits you.’
‘Really?’ she said, absently-mindedly stroking the skirt. ‘You like it?’
‘Uh-huh. Makes you look like a lusty young wench.’
She smiled pleasurably at him. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘that’s me. Lusty, young and wench-like. Glass of wine?’
He looked at the bottle on the table and shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’ve just had one, actually.’
‘Oh yes?’ she said. ‘Who with?’
‘Oh – just after work. You know. It was someone’s birthday.’
‘Well, you are getting sociable in your old age. Come on. Just a glass. We can go and sit on the terrace if you like. It’s quite mild out.’
‘OK,’ he said, looking aga
in at the chilled bottle, ‘but just a small one.’
Ness picked up the bottle and Tony followed her through the living room towards the sliding doors at the back that led out on to his terrace. The plastic seats were covered in dead leaves and city dust, which he wiped away with the back of his hand before he sat down. Ness handed him his glass and for a moment he just sat there, enjoying the mild air and the sense of easiness about everything. If only life could always be like this, he thought, if only he could always float around on this super-charged cloud, skimming the surface of everything, seeing it, knowing it, but not having to do anything about it. He stretched his legs, sipped his wine, and sighed contentedly.
And then Ness went and spoilt it all.
‘Tony,’ she said, moving her chair nearer to his and gripping his thighs affectionately.
‘Ye-es.’
‘Remember last week, on the way to Rob and Trisha’s? Remember what we were talking about?’
Tony felt his cloud lose a bit of speed, start to chafe against the edges of life a bit. He put down his wine glass.
‘Well, I was wondering, have you given it any more thought?’
Tony took a deep breath and counted backwards from three. ‘Er, no,’ he said, eventually, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I haven’t really had time. You know.’
‘It’s just – I don’t want to pressurize you or anything, but I had my flat valued last week and guess how much it’s worth?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Tony heavily, ‘how much is it worth?’
‘A hundred and twenty thousand pounds! I’ve made fifty grand on it, Tony! Fifty thousand pounds. And the agent reckoned that I could get even more than that for it, now that summer’s on its way. And I was just thinking what we could do with that money if I moved in here. You could take some time off, a sabbatical, we could go away somewhere for a few weeks, even a few months. I mean, you’ve worked all your life, Tony – you’ve never had a break. And I think it would do you some good.’
A sabbatical, thought Tony, time off. What a completely ludicrous idea.
‘You could rent this place out, maybe, and the business could run itself for a while, you know it could.’
As if, thought Tony. The place would be on its knees before the plane had left the tarmac.
‘And then maybe when we got back we could sell this place, too, get somewhere bigger, you know, with a garden?’
The cloud started grinding painfully against rough edges again.
‘Maybe a bit further out, you know, Bromley way.’
And then Tony’s lovely soft cloud hit a huge jagged rock and Tony felt himself being thrown bodily from the safe warm place he’d been resting for the past few days. He looked at Ness looking up at him with her big, green eyes, a lacy bra just peeping out of her pretty floral bodice, her blonde hair hanging in tendrils, and realized that his number was up.
Game over.
It was time to take control.
It was the very least that Ness deserved.
‘Ness,’ he said, ‘no.’
‘No what?’
‘No – I don’t want to move in with you.’
Ness’s face crumpled. ‘But, I thought…’
‘I know what you thought, Ness. But it’s… Look, I’m really sorry. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you, Ness.’ He grabbed her hands where they sat limply on his knees and squeezed them.
Her eyes filled up with tears. ‘But – Tony. I don’t understand. We’ve been getting on so well, lately. You’ve seemed so happy.’
‘I know. And I have been. But the thing is, Ness –’ he squeezed her hands again and felt tears catching at the back of his throat – ‘I’m not right for you. You deserve someone so much better than me. Someone who really loves you…’
‘But – the other night. You told me you loved me and you were crying, Tony. You were crying. So you do really love me… you told me…’
Tony sighed and looked up at the sky. How the hell was he supposed to explain a moment in his life to Ness when he didn’t understand it himself. ‘Of course I love you, Ness. Everyone loves you. Who wouldn’t love you? You’re inherently loveable. But you’re not… the one. Do you see?’
‘So what are you saying, Tony? Are you saying that it’s… that it’s over?’
Tony looked at Ness again and felt a physical stabbing pain in his chest. Nothing had felt real for so long. He’d been paralysed by unhappiness and disappointment for such a long time that he’d forgotten what it was like to feel things properly. And then these last few days he’d been propelled headlong to the other end of the spectrum and it was only now that he found himself somewhere in the middle ground, in the place where there was no room for dreams and prevarication, the place where he had to make decisions – even if that meant hurting the kindest person he’d ever known in his life.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it’s over.’
Ness snatched her hands off his lap and drew herself up straight. ‘You bastard!’ she said, wrapping her arms around her chest. ‘You total bastard! After everything we’ve been through, all the shit I’ve put up with from you – Jesus! I’ve put up with your moods and your selfishness and your misery. I saw you through the worst time of your life after Jo left. I’ve been patient and… and… loving. I’ve loved you so much. And I’ve hung on in there when any sane woman would have given up. And now – now, when I finally seemed to be getting somewhere with you, when you were finally happy and nice and fun to be with – you dump me. You even told me you loved me, you bastard. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that? Do you? Do you have any idea how much that meant to me? It was one of the best moments of my life, Tony. I thought… I thought finally – finally I’ve broken through the wall you built around yourself after Jo left…’
‘What wall?’
‘Oh come on, Tony – you know what I’m talking about. You were a broken man when I met you. But I could see the real you in there, peeping out at me. And I just wanted to mend your broken little heart, Tony, make everything better. And now you are better and you don’t… you don’t… want me… any more…’
She started sobbing and Tony put out a hand to comfort her. She pushed it away. ‘No, Tony,’ she said, standing up, pushing her chair back against the wall. ‘No. Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Just leave me. OK?’
She marched across the terrace and into the living room. Tony got up and followed her. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Home. I’m going home.’
‘But, can’t we talk?’
‘What the fuck is there to talk about, Tony? Eh?’ She picked up her denim jacket and her car keys. ‘Just let me go. And let me get on with my life. I never, ever want to see you again.’ She stopped and stared at him, tears running down her face, her hand against her chest. ‘You’ve… broken… my heart.’
They stared at each other for a moment, before Ness turned and slowly walked to the front door and out of Tony’s flat.
Tony stood there after she’d gone, listening to the silence echoing in his ears until he heard Ness’s Golf starting up in the car park, the security gates creaking open and Ness driving away.
He walked numbly around the flat after she’d left. There were Sainsbury’s carrier bags in the kitchen. He peered into them. Two tuna steaks, a bag of rocket, pesto dressing, two low-fat chocolate mousses, a copy of OK!, a Lottery ticket. She’d put a frying pan on the hob, washed up the mugs and glasses that had been sitting in his sink this morning.
And now she was gone.
He opened the fridge and pulled out a tub of potato salad and some cold sausages. Then he took them out on to the terrace and ate them while he watched the sun set and finished nearly a whole bottle of wine.
One Door Closes
Ned was actually toying with the idea of having a wank when the doorbell went at nine o’clock that night. He had his hand down his trousers and had been idly fiddling with his foreskin in a half-hearted manner that was more comforti
ng than arousing. Mum and Dad had gone for dinner at Mickey’s and Gervase was out somewhere with Bud. He had the whole house to himself and it seemed like a wasted opportunity not to.
His first reaction when he heard the doorbell go, apart from removing his hand from his underpants, was primal fear. Normal people didn’t ring on doorbells at nine o’clock at night in London. Burglars and lunatics rang on doorbells at nine o’clock at night in London. He caught his breath and then decided it was probably Gervase, probably forgot his keys or something, so made his way warily to the hall and called out a tentative ‘Hello’ through the closed door.
‘Ned – it’s me. Ness.’
Ness. Shit. Ned stole a glance at his reflection in the mirror in the hallway. He looked vile. His hair was dirty and he’d had a big zit-squeezing fest earlier in the evening and had a face like a plate of corned beef. ‘Ness,’he said, zipping up his trousers, running his fingers through his lank hair and taking off a particularly grim-looking pair of socks, bunching them up and lobbing them into the dining room. ‘Hang on. I’m… just. Hang on.’ He pulled open the door and was greeted by a bedraggled but still decidedly foxy-looking Ness, standing on the door step, wearing a sexy flowery dress, a denim jacket and a strangely stoical expression.
‘Is… is Bernie here, Ned?’ she said in a croaky, controlled voice.
‘Er, no. She’s not. Sorry. She’s out with Dad.’
‘Oh,’ she sniffed. ‘Will she be back soon?’
Ned looked at his watch. ‘Half an hour or so. Are you OK?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’m fine.’
‘Do you want to come in – and wait?’
Ness looked around for a moment, looked at her car parked on the road behind her, at her watch, at the hallway behind Ned. ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘OK then. I’m not disturbing you, am I?’
‘No – not at all. I was just, er… No – come in.’