Sooo Not Looking For a Man: A witty, heart-warming and poignant, feel-good journey.

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Sooo Not Looking For a Man: A witty, heart-warming and poignant, feel-good journey. Page 23

by CJ Morrow


  If only my private life was so rewarding.

  ∞∞∞

  I’m with Shadow and we’re queueing up outside the church hall waiting for the dog training to commence. Shadow is behaving impeccably, sitting by my side and not reacting at all to any of the other dogs; it’s almost as if she knows she’s going to be tested.

  We trot in and take our places, which in my case means shuffling along and fitting in with everyone else as the lessons started two weeks ago and they’ve squeezed me in. There are nine of us and the dogs vary greatly in breed and size.

  ‘What breed is your dog?’ asks a lady who looks and sounds like she’s just popped down from the local stately home, she’s even wearing tweeds, and a scarf around her head, reminiscent of The Queen.

  ‘Mongrel,’ I reply, because I’m not going to get into all that nonsense that I’ve heard being repeated around the room and in the queue about pedigree names and lineage. I really don’t care. Shadow is a lovely dog and I don’t care what flavour she is. And when she can learn to not run away in the park, she’ll be even better.

  ‘Mine too,’ The Queen says, patting the head of a giant dog which I assumed was a Great Dane. ‘They’re far nicer natured.’ She gives me a quick wink and I smirk back. I think I might have found an ally at doggie training already.

  We start off with walking to heel and all the things that Shadow actually does quite well. I’m really quite enjoying myself and so is Shadow when the door is suddenly hurled open from the outside making it bang against the inside wall.

  Everyone jumps and we all turn to look and in walks a tiny little dog, a Chihuahua.

  My heart does a little lunge before it rattles against my chest, because I know what, or rather who, is coming next.

  ‘Sorry everyone, I’m running late.’ Alfie, channelling full Thor persona in a leather waistcoat and massive boots, strides in. He brushes his extravagant, dirty-blond hair away from his face.

  The women in the hall swoon collectively.

  He sees me and offers a half-smile.

  Don’t come and stand next to me, don’t come and stand next to me, don’t come and stand next to me.

  Alfie takes three giant strides and positions himself between me and The Queen. Great. For fuck’s sake.

  We do a few doggy manoeuvres and, try as I might, I cannot get away from Alfie. If I move away, he just follows me. I know the hall is full of people and dogs, but really, can’t he take a hint? Shadow’s achievement of coming back to me from across the hall when she’s off the lead is completely side-lined by Alfie’s insistence in following me so closely.

  Finally, the class is over and I plan a hasty retreat. But, it’s not to be. The Queen comes over and asks if I’ll be here next week then tells me her dog is called Muttley because he’s third generation mutt, which is quite funny, and when I finally get to leave, Shadow has entangled herself in Daenerys’s lead.

  ‘Everyone’s very friendly,’ Alfie says as he creeps up behind me, quite a feat given the size of him.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, not looking at him. I tug on Shadow’s lead as though it will magically untangle.

  ‘I’ll just sort that.’ Alfie bends down and pulls their leads apart.

  ‘Thank you.’ I start to march towards the door.

  ‘Are you walking home?’

  I want to say no, I’m flying. Just go away Alfie. Why are you and Leeward and bloody Ken always butting into my life?

  ‘I’ll walk with you,’ he says, evidently not getting the message that I just want to escape. I’m obviously not emanating enough hostility via my body language.

  There’s no point in trying to outrun him either, is there? How could I move faster than Thor?

  ‘How’s your week been so far?’ he asks.

  Oh no. Enough of this. I stop, turn and face him. ‘Alfie, I know you know who I am, Leeward has told me he told you. He also said you’re upset about it and not speaking to him. I just want to say that I’m sorry and all that, but really, it’s nothing to do with me, how you feel about it, I mean.’

  Alfie stares at me as though I’m speaking another language which is probably how I sounded, and for a second or two I wonder if Leeward has lied to me and actually not told Alfie anything and I’ve just dropped Leeward in it.

  ‘I know it’s not your fault. Of course it’s not. You’re quite blameless.’ Phew, he does know.

  Is he being sarcastic? Did Leeward tell him I sort of forced his hand, made him tell Alfie. Is he going to have a go at me now? I glance up and down the street for somewhere to run and hide.

  ‘It’s me who should be sorry. I took him away from you.’ He blinks several times; I hope he’s not going to cry. It will look very strange, he’s so Thor-like and everyone knows gods don’t cry. ‘When I met him I had no idea he was with you, with anyone actually.’

  I shrug. What can I say to that?

  ‘I’m so sorry, Lauren.’ Then he steps forward and envelops me in his great bear arms and hugs me. I have to admit it’s really rather nice and he does smell… well, godlike. ‘You’ve had a terrible time and although I’m not to blame any more than you are, I know you must have suffered greatly. And, I’m really sorry about that.’

  Okay, this is getting really embarrassing now. I can feel my throat constricting, all this sympathy is going to make me weep. Like a baby.

  He keeps on hugging me and I keep on breathing through my nose to stop myself from crying. Of all the people to give me sympathy, I didn’t expect it from Alfie.

  ‘It’s damn Lee I’m angry with,’ he says, finally letting go of me. ‘If he’d been honest from the beginning, I probably wouldn’t have pursued him the way I did. I only found out he was bi after we’d been together a couple of months. I assumed he was out and proud, like me. He certainly gives off that vibe.’

  I laugh. I can’t help it. ‘Does he?’ Have I been missing something all these years?

  ‘Err, yes,’ Alfie says, a big smile on his face. ‘And I’m not the only one who thinks so. Let’s just say that Lee could have chosen from several suitors down the gym.’ He gives me a gentle nudge.

  ‘Is it a gay gym then?’ Does such a thing exist? Have I said something insulting?

  Alfie grins. ‘Not officially. Come on, let’s get home, it’s getting late.’

  He walks me to the end of the street and, just as he’s turning to leave, I invite him in for a coffee. After I’ve said it, I immediately regret it, but he smiles and accepts.

  An hour later and we’re gassing away like old girlfriends. We’ve dissected Leeward’s habits and giggled over his penchant for dark, minimalist décor and regimented wardrobes.

  ‘I’ve told him I won’t live like that,’ Alfie giggles. ‘I’m much more decadent when it comes to furnishings. You must come round and see.’ He stops when he sees my face. ‘Well, maybe not just yet,’ he continues before getting up to leave.

  At the door he gives me another hug.

  ‘I do want us to be friends, Lauren. I really like you.’

  ‘Yeah, me too.’ I’m actually being genuine, I do want to be friends with him, just not too close.

  ‘Cool. Come on, Daenerys, Daddy’s waiting.’ He clips on his dog’s lead. ‘He’s messaged me three times since I’ve been here.’ He rolls his eyes and strides off. ‘I expect he thinks I’m sulking.’

  Later, I lie in bed and scan through the past and look for signs of Leeward’s gaiety. Is that the right word? Probably not.

  Nineteen

  The following few months pass in surprising calmness. No more drama.

  I go to doggie training every week and even though I see Alfie there and we exchange pleasant chit chat, I don’t feel any pressure. Even when a torrential downpour means that Leeward comes to pick Alfie up afterwards and offers me a lift, which I have to accept or get soaked, the atmosphere in the car is pleasant. Leeward and I are never going to be best friends, but at least we can be polite and civil. I’m even starting to not hate him anymore. I go
for days when I don’t even think about him or the life we had and when I do it’s to reminisce and look back with happiness rather than sorrow.

  Lauren Nokes has moved on.

  I say this to Cat one evening from the comfort of my fab IKEA bed – which only took me and Dad two hours to put together.

  ‘Yes, I think you finally have,’ she says before pausing.

  ‘Hello?’ The silence has gone on for so long I think the call has been cut, but according to my phone, it hasn’t.

  ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘I was just thinking. Perhaps I was a bit harsh when I told you to move on. You know, tough love.’

  ‘D’ya think?’ I laugh.

  ‘No, seriously. I’ve never been through what you have, it can’t have been easy. I mean, finding out the man you’ve been with for ten years is gay. Then all that crap at your wedding.’

  ‘Bi,’ I correct with a giggle. ‘And don’t go on about it, you’ll wind me up again.’

  ‘No, what I’m trying to say is,’ she pauses again, ‘Well done, Lauren. You are your own woman now.’

  ‘Maybe I am.’ Now it’s my turn to pause. And think. Cat’s always saying things like that to me, but what about her?

  ‘Lauren?’

  ‘Cat, I was wondering…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you your own woman?’

  ‘God, no.’ Her tone implies I’ve said something so incredibly stupid that I should be ashamed of myself. ‘Another ten years before I can even start to reclaim myself. Once the last one flies the nest, then maybe. Anyway, got to go,’ she adds before I question her further. ‘I’ll see you at the weekend. Looking forward to the ‘middle of Lidl’.’

  ‘Okay,’ I laugh. ‘Small things, eh?’ I can’t believe how excited she is that a Lidl store has opened in our town and we’re making a trip there.

  ‘I know. We know how to live. IKEA, Lidl.’ She laughs as she ends the call.

  I ponder on Cat’s words about moving on as I snuggle down with a bit of bedtime reading – a management book which I’ve been told to read ahead of my three weeks of intensive, offsite training which starts next week.

  Yes, Lauren Nokes has moved on. I am my own woman.

  If I have one regret; it’s Phillip.

  I haven’t seen him since he went back to work. We’ve exchanged lots of phone messages, even had a lengthy phone call after his first week full-time, he basically just needed a friendly ear to download to, and as he put it when he rang me, I owe him one for drowning him in the Leeward-Alfie-Ken saga. But other than that, I haven’t seen him, not in person. We’re obviously out of synch with the dog walking in the park regime, either that or he’s moved back to his own house. Wouldn’t he have told me? Maybe not, we’re not that close.

  On a whim and even though it’s ten at night, I message him.

  Hope all well with you? How’s work going?

  I don’t expect a response immediately so I’m surprised when he messages me back straight away.

  Funnily enough I was just thinking about you. Would you like to meet for a walk around the park with our little furry pests? Work is okay, well better than okay – I’m coping well and it’s a good distraction.

  I reply that I’d love to meet and ask when. He suggests Saturday morning at ten. I don’t dare ask what work is a distraction from.

  Just as I’m dropping off to sleep I suddenly jerk awake. Should I have asked him? Is that why he put that in his message? Oh damn, it’s too late now. I’ll have to wait until Saturday. All I know, which isn’t much, is that it involved a little girl. Taking Archie’s comments alone – he loved that little girl, we all did –implies she has died, but Phillip specifically stated that no one had died.

  ∞∞∞

  Saturday morning can’t come soon enough now. I make an effort. Wash my hair, dress nicely, appropriate for dog walking in a soft top and long shorts, but nice, and, of course, matching shoes. The weather is warm, the sun is climbing in the sky, the birds are singing and my dog has now achieved the milestone of being capable of not running off when let off her lead.

  If it wasn’t for Shadow getting so excited when she sees Betty approaching us, I would walk past Phillip. He looks so different.

  ‘Wow,’ I say as we meet. We exchange awkward hugs. ‘I didn’t recognise you.’

  ‘Really?’ There’s genuine puzzlement in his expression and his tone of voice.

  ‘No. You look…’ I stand back and survey him. ‘So different.’ He’s put on weight and the faded jeans and white t-shirt he’s wearing fit him well. His hair is still short, in fact it looks freshly cut and his face stubble is groomed and tidy.

  ‘Yes,’ I mutter, feeling embarrassed for commenting on it. ‘Being back at work obviously suits you.’ I look down so I don’t have to look him in the eye.

  ‘Well, it’s a distraction.’ He bends down and pats Shadow’s head. ‘How’s she doing after the dog training classes?’

  ‘Good. Look.’ I unclip Shadow’s lead and wait. Nothing happens, she doesn’t run off but mainly because she’s far too interested in saying hello to Betty.

  Phillip unclips Betty’s lead and suddenly the pair race off together, side-by-side, furry yin-yang.

  ‘Will she come back?’ he asks.

  ‘I hope so. She usually does now.’

  ‘Good. We can sit then.’ He paces over to the bench where I first saw him, Spice man. Then waits for me to catch up before he sits down. We sit beside each other scanning the horizon and watching our dogs, who are having the best of fun darting left then right, chasing an imaginary rabbit, at least I hope it’s imaginary.

  ‘I’m knackered now,’ he laughs. ‘I’ve been round the park twice.’

  ‘Oh, sorry, am I late? I thought we said ten.’

  ‘No, not at all. No. I just needed to get out and about. The sooner I move out of that nut house the better. There was an almighty row going on in the shared kitchen this morning about fridge shelves and milk. It’s worse than my student days, and these are supposed to be professional people.’

  ‘Oh. Sounds grim.’

  ‘It’s not for much longer. I get my house back in two weeks and two days. Not that I’m counting.’ He turns and smiles at me. His blue eyes twinkle in the sunlight. He’s fit, actually now his cheeks are no longer sunken and his pallor is normal, he’s really fit. I suddenly feel hot and uncomfortable. Subtly I move away, just a little, just to put some cool air between us and I return my gaze to my dog in the distance.

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Yeah. Who knows what sort of state it will be in? The last lot redecorated in vibrating pink and lilac, I had it all painted out in magnolia before these ones moved in, but you never can tell with tenants.’

  ‘Surely they’re not allowed to do that.’

  He gives an ironic laugh. ‘No, not allowed but that doesn’t seem to stop them. Just good that I put my furniture in storage and let the house empty.’ He shakes his head. ‘I’m relieved I never sold it. I must have known…’

  I let his words hang in the air while I analyse them. Is this a lead for me to ask what he means? Why do I hesitate? I pluck up the courage.

  ‘Known what?’ I squeak.

  ‘Oh, you don’t want to hear it.’

  ‘I do if you want me to. I’m a good listener. And I owe you one for the Leeward-Alfie-Ken story.’

  ‘No, that’s been paid back. I downloaded about work.’ He smiles, more to himself than me.

  ‘Well, I’m here if you need me. You’ve heard my nightmare so you know I can take it.’ Oh God, that sounds so flippant. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I feel myself flushing; I’m quite literally hot under the collar. I pull at the neck of my top. There’s a long silence, then he speaks.

  ‘I know what happened to you was awful,’ he says, also keeping his eyes focused on our dogs. ‘But, believe me, it’s not in the same league as my sorry tale.’

  I stop myself from speaking before I put my foot in it again. Ins
tead I reach over and squeeze his hand, just gently, then I let go. I’m curious, of course I’m curious, but if he wants to maintain his privacy, that’s fair enough. When he starts speaking again, his voice is quiet, measured.

  ‘I met Belinda, she prefers Bel, on a night out. It was a stag night. I hadn’t gone on the long weekend to Spain, so this was the local one. You know the sort of thing. Too much drink, money being spent as though it has no value, everyone behaving like louts. Not me at all. I hadn’t wanted to go but… well, there I was being almost as loutish as the rest of them.’ He stops, waits.

  ‘Mmm,’ I say as though I do know. Of course I know what he means but it’s a long time since I went on the female equivalent. Even my own hen party was a very sedate affair.

  ‘She winked at me across the bar. I didn’t think it was for me, I looked behind me but there wasn’t anyone else there. I gave her a smile back then looked away but I kept glancing back. Couldn’t help it. She was stunning. This glossy dark hair, poker straight and long, just falling down her shoulders. Big eyes, big smile. She was way out of my league.’

  I already don’t like the sound of Belinda, Bel.

  ‘She sashayed around the bar and came towards me.’

  ‘Sashayed,’ I find myself repeating. Stop judging.

  ‘Only way to describe it.’ He gives off a bitter little laugh. ‘To be fair she’d been drinking herself too, out with her friends, though not as loutish as us, they were loud.’ He stops again, and I sneak a quick sideways glance at him; he’s right back there, with Bel, The Stunner.

  ‘Mmm,’ I offer to encourage him.

  ‘She did all the talking; said she’d been watching me for a while. Liked the look of me. I had no witty one-liners to offer back, not even any compliments because I couldn’t trust myself not to say something dumb about how she looked. She flirted, I smiled. It was very one sided. I was flattered. She was stunning.’

 

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