Double Ex: A Romantic Comedy about Lost Love & Lookalikes

by Lee Daniel Bullen

  ‘Thank you for your suggestions, which are as valid now as they were half an hour ago, but I’m fine with this.’ he replied, giving Lucy an exasperated expression.

  ‘You may be fine but the rest of us are wishing the ground would swallow us. Everyone’s looking!’ Tristan moaned.

  ‘Can we please stop talking about this? I really don’t see it as a problem.’ Lucy said, putting her hand on Nick’s thigh.

  ‘Let me at least order him a bhaji – are you okay with onion?’ Lidia asked. Nick rolled his eyes and defiantly stuffed a forkful of chips in his mouth.

  ‘Did anyone see that new talent show last night?’ Lucy said trying to break the tension, ‘I can’t believe how some people…’

  ‘Now that really is a step too far!’ interrupted Tristan after a passing waiter placed a bottle of ketchup next to Nick. He turned to thank the attendant, who accidentally bumped into a diner on their way to the toilet. Tristan reached across and swiped the condiment off the table, ‘I’m terrifically sorry, Nicholas, but one really should make an effort at an ethnic restaurant.’

  ‘Not if one doesn’t like it! And call me Nicholas again and I’ll terrifically twat you!’ he answered with open eyes.

  ‘Cigarette time?’ Lucy said, gripping his thigh under the table.

  Nick stood and threw his serviette on top of Tristan’s dinner, ‘Good idea!’ and he left to enjoy a moment outside; Lucy smiled awkwardly at the replicas opposite, both gauging her with looks.

  ‘I thought you said he was charming?’ Lidia said.

  ‘Entirely! It’s like dining with a chimp!’

  ‘Sometimes he can be sweet…’ Lucy replied, looking around for help that wasn’t coming.

  Konrad was alone on the sofa, channel-hopping with his arm outstretched, clicking buttons on the remote control as if firing rounds from a pistol. He tutted loudly as he passed lame celebrity shows on every channel, finally throwing the remote across the room, ‘Arrghhh! The banality!’ he protested to the wall-mounted TV. He picked up his phone and nervously pondered in front of it before placing it gently on the table. He stood and paced the living room, occasionally looking over his shoulder; eventually he found the pluck to look up Penny Albright in his contact list. He called; it went to answerphone, ‘Hi Penny. It’s me. Sorry to call again but I just wanted to speak to you. Hear your voice…’

  Nick and Lucy sat cross-armed, looking glumly at the replicas engrossed in conversation. The waiter clumsily cleared the table, leaning across and dropping items off his cluttered tray. Tristan and Lidia were unperturbed, remaining connected even when he spilled wine down Tristan’s leg.

  ‘Not going so well is it?’ Nick shot sideways.

  ‘It is for them!’ Lucy replied, evidently fed-up.

  ‘Who cares? They’re made for each other, stuck-up snobs!’

  ‘Shut up! Tristan is an amazing lookalike!’ she eyed him with a sigh, ‘Just perfect.’

  ‘He might be a dead ringer but he’s a complete arse, you’ve had a lucky escape there!’

  ‘Yeh, some healing intimacy with someone who could pass as my ex’s twin would be a nightmare!’ she answered dryly, ‘Obviously I only came here to watch you eat chips with ketchup!’

  Nick sulked like a child, ‘Actually I didn’t have ketchup – you wouldn’t let me!’

  ‘And look at her… she’s not even that attractive!’ Lucy bitched, glaring at Lidia who sparkled as she touched Tristan at every opportunity.

  ‘Now, now!’ Nick said, laughing to himself.

  ‘Is she a good Sofia-double?’

  ‘No, not really.’ he groaned. ‘But with some mood-lighting and few more beers…’

  Lucy called across the table to the pair, busy stroking each other’s hair, ‘Shall we get the bill then?’ They failed to hear, lost in their private cocoon. ‘I SAID SHALL WE GET THE BILL?’

  ‘Oh. Yeh, why not?’ Lidia answered, meticulously parting Tristan’s hair. Lucy scowled like a jealous teen. Nick called the waiter who bounded over like an excitable puppy, sliding into the end of the table and sloshing the drinks. Tristan and Lidia remained fixed in each other’s gaze.

  ‘How possible I help?’ he asked.

  ‘Can you toss these two onto the street?’ Lucy said; he looked at her confused.

  Nick kindly stepped-in, ‘Actually just the bill please.’

  ‘The bill?’

  ‘Yes.’ Nick replied curtly, and after quite some time the waiter edged away.

  Konrad sobbed on the sofa singing to Lionel Richie’s Penny Lover blasting out of the stereo, ‘Penny lover don’t you walk on by. Penny Lover don’t you make me cry…’ He picked up a large tub of ice cream and started shovelling in spoonfuls as tears fell and the song’s emotional finale grew to a crescendo. A message came through on his phone from Penny Albright:

  Please stop calling. I’m fed up telling you the same thing. Move on! Goodbye!

  Konrad hugged a nearby cushion as his sobbing reached fever pitch and Lionel Richie faded into the ether.

  ‘It won’t always end up like this.’ Nick said to Lucy as they solemnly watched Tristan and Lidia get into a taxi hand in hand.

  ‘Thanks for such a lovely, lovely evening.’ Lidia said from the cab window sporting a radiant smile.

  ‘Sorry it didn’t work out, Lucy – but I’m pleased things turned out terrifically well with Lidia.’ Tristan added, ‘Nick, I’m sure we’ll never speak again. Good luck with all your issues.’ and the taxi sped off.

  ‘There goes my ex’s spitting image – thanks a bunch for acting so childishly, Nick!’ she said, longing after the taxi carrying Tristan from view.

  ‘Hey, you would never have met him without me!’ he protested as Lucy turned away; he felt her disappointment, ‘Although I realise I could have made more of an effort – how can I make it up to you? Fancy going to a club?’

  ‘No, not in the mood – plus I have to be up early for work. I’m just gonna go home I think.’

  ‘Okay but let’s not get the tube, I’ll pay for a cab.’

  ‘It’s not the offer I was hoping for tonight but I’ll accept.’ Lucy remarked as she moped to the next waiting taxi.

  Missing by Everything But The Girl happily bounced out of the stereo as Konrad finished off the last of the Jack Daniel’s and searched the kitchen for more, ‘You’re long gone but I can’t move on. And I miss you. Like the deserts miss the rain…’ he hummed, scouring the cupboards. Unable to find anything sufficiently heady to drink Konrad grabbed his wallet and keys from the living room table, collected two rubbish bags by the front door and headed out. As he staggered down the flight of stairs and exited onto Camden High Street he failed to notice Samoan Sam lingering outside, scanning the building exterior. Sam straightened as if standing to attention when Konrad flew out of the front door but he was too preoccupied to notice conspicuous-looking heavies in his moment of hazy haste. A few steps along the deserted pavement he stopped to tie his shoe-lace, swaying as he dropped the rubbish bags and fumbling with the ends. Samoan Sam saw an opportunity and casually strolled past Konrad, focussing on the fiddly job at hand, and scooped up one of the refuse sacks; he walked off into the lamp-lit distance. Konrad eventually finished and stood, stepping on the end of the lace and undoing it again. He collected one of the rubbish bags and searched for the other; he blinked at the pavement several times before shrugging and hurrying to find more Tennessee whiskey.

  ‘Fancy a night-cap?’ Nick asked as the black cab arrived in Camden, his eye brows rising at the fare on the meter.

  ‘Okay, just one. The Red Lion’s close to mine; up here on the left’ Lucy said.

  ‘Just here please, mate.’ Nick instructed the driver.

  As they entered the spacious pub, a pool table positioned in the middle like an isolated island, a solitary client was chatting to the overly made-up barmaid.

  ‘I’ll get these.’ Lucy offered and walked to the bar.

  ‘Fancy a game?’ Nick shouted, gesturing t
o the pool table.

  ‘Go on then.’

  Nick racked up the faded balls inside an oversized triangle as Lucy arrived with two pints, ‘You know how to play?’ he asked.

  ‘Not since university but I’m sure it will come back.’

  ‘I better break then.’ he said taking a pleasing sip of gassy lager.

  ‘Oi! Hang on; it’s winner stays on.’ shouted the only customer in the bar.

  ‘You’re kidding? Nick called back.

  The large, suited man of Maori-descent got up from the barstool and approached them, ‘No! You have to play me first. Winner stays on in this pub.’

  ‘We’re only here for one drink, I just want a quick game with my girlfriend.’ he protested.

  ‘Girlfriend?’ Lucy mouthed.

  Nick glared at her, ‘Do you really want to go into what we are?’

  ‘Look, I don’t care who you are or what you do together – the rule in this pub is winner stays on.’ he said jutting his finger; his phone started to ring and he took it from his suit pocket; Josh Arnaud flashed on the screen, ‘You’re in luck, I gotta take this.’ and he left to go outside. Nick shrugged at Lucy then removed a warped cue from a crooked rack, rubbed it with the remaining morsels of crusty chalk and belted the loose cluster of balls, which moved across the sticky cloth like lawn bowls in a wet bog.

  ‘Bloody table!’

  ‘Girl’s blouse!’ Lucy snorted, nearly choking on her drink.

  ‘What do you mean you’ve got their rubbish bag? What use is that?’ Josh shouted down the phone as Samoan Sam stood outside The Red Lion, cowering like a child summoned to the headmaster’s office.

  ‘I thought we’d get some useful stuff from it; clues and information and that.’

  ‘This isn’t The Cold War you idiot! You can get the basics off the internet!’

  ‘It’s what they do in the films.’

  ‘Sam, stop winding me up!’

  ‘I’m more used to slapping people about, boss. I’ve never done this spy stuff before!’

  Josh cursed under his breath and composed himself, ‘Right, what did you learn from the rubbish?’

  ‘That Nick is a fat short-arse with a drink problem.’

  ‘What? Nick isn’t short or fat.’

  ‘Well some bloke’s been up there knocking it back all afternoon – before doing the recycling of course.’

  ‘So Nick must have a flatmate. That’s good, that’s the kind of thing I want to know. I want all the names of his friends; where he goes, what he does, everything. Okay?’

  ‘Alright boss.’

  ‘Where’s the flatmate now?’

  ‘Went out for the night I think.’

  ‘And no one else is home?’

  ‘Nah, just him.’

  ‘Right, forget clumsy stakeouts and rummaging through bins, go back and get inside; send me photos of the place – and keep an eye out for anything interesting.’ Josh hung up and Sam placed the phone in his suit jacket as Nick and Lucy came out of the pub laughing.

  ‘I can’t believe you said that potting the black by accident means you win the game! What kind of idiot you take me for?’ she teased as Nick lit her cigarette then his own; they stopped short at the sight of Samoan Sam scowling at them. After an awkward silence the miffed Maori saw a passing cab and hailed it, lumbering across the road to get in; as he instructed the driver to go to Camden High Street a message from Josh came through:

  Here’s a photo of Nick Green so you don’t confuse him with anymore fat drunks!

  A suntanned headshot of Nick on a Spanish beach was attached. Sam stared in disbelief before looking across at him, still gawping from outside the pub.

  ‘Stay here a minute.’ he told the driver and waited for Nick and Lucy to turn away. They returned to their argument over pool etiquette and Sam lifted his phone to the window and took a photo. ‘Right, go!’ he said and the cab pulled away; driving down Camden Road he sent the image to Josh:

  I’m looking at him right now! He’s at The Red Lion in Camden with this girl.

  ‘Lucy?’ Josh said surprised, face down on his lavish Emperor-sized bed as a leggy brunette massaged his oily shoulders.

  ‘Who’s Lucy?’

  ‘Oh, no one.’ he replied, throwing his phone onto the deep-pile carpet. ‘Just do my lumbar would you, Sofia.’

  ‘Sure.’ she answered.

  Nick collected his phone from a sticky table and returned the pool cue to its rightful home on the wonky rack. ‘Right, I better be off.’ he said clapping his hands together.

  ‘Wait!’ Lucy said, surprising herself.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I dunno.’ she replied.

  ‘Okay! Well, it’s getting late…’

  ‘Nick?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Stay with me tonight.’ she said softly. Nick looked at her, a dozen scenarios swimming around his mind. ‘Not in an intimate way.’ she clarified quickly, ‘In a… friendly kind of way.’

  ‘Like playmates?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Friends with benefits!’

  ‘No!’ she emphasised, glaring with as much meanness as she could muster, ‘I mean, like… snuggles and that.’

  ‘Snuggles?’

  ‘Yeh.’

  ‘But you said and that so do you mean snuggles and…?’

  ‘Just cuddles!’ she said sharply.

  He eyed her suspiciously, ‘Just cuddles?’ She smiled and nodded. ‘Why not?’ and he wrapped his arms around her; she was taken aback but softened under his strong hold. ‘I could really use a hug too.’ he said candidly as their embrace drew a sweet sigh from the barmaid watching at the other end of the pub.

  Konrad instinctively threw his arms around Samoan Sam’s midriff as he entered his apartment and found himself face to face with the large intruder. He grunted as he tried to tackle him to the floor but the surprised Maori stood strong, looking down at Konrad’s mousy scalp unsure what to do.

  ‘What are you doing in my home?’ Konrad screamed and released his hold, swinging the bag of shopping hard across Sam’s head; he fell to the floor, stunned. ‘Help! Call the police!’ Konrad shouted at anyone able to hear. Sam panicked and kicked-out a leg; his foot pushed Konrad back through the front door and sent him tumbling down the flight of stairs to ground level. Sam ran down to him, groaning at the bottom with his left arm bent out of shape.

  ‘Sorry mate, was an accident. I, er… I got the wrong apartment.’ he said yanking open the front door; as he left he popped his head round, ‘I’ll call yer an ambulance, looks like you busted your arm on the tumble down.’

  Konrad let out a panged scream.

  Nick slid under the soft bed covers wearing his boxer shorts as Lucy flicked off the light. She bounced into sleeping position, eagerly anticipating his warm body moving closer. In the near-dark he edged to her frozen frame – which melted under the comforting heat of contact; she threw her arms around him and lost herself in a bubble of bliss.

  ‘So what happens next?’ Nick asked after some time.

  ‘You keep things… flaccid… and we drift off to sleep.’

  ‘Right.’ he said, shifting his body awkwardly. ‘Only my skin’s getting quite hot – when can we break off?’

  Lucy’s bubble promptly burst, she sat upright, ‘I can’t believe you just asked me that!’ Nick’s phone rang, interrupting the tension. ‘Leave it!’ she growled.

  ‘I don’t recognise the number.’ he said regarding the screen; the look in her eyes told him it was probably wise to cancel the call, ‘I suppose they’ll call back if…’ It rang again.

  ‘You better take it then!’ Lucy huffed, turning the light on and crossing her arms.

  ‘Hello? Yes, that’s me.’ His frown turned to shock, ‘Oh my god! Is he okay?’

  Chapter 5

  Meetups & Letdowns

  It was a glorious Saturday afternoon as the gold-speckled sunlight shone down on the lawns of St. James’s Park. People happily baske
d in the surrounding energy, revitalising their weary bones; rigid from far too many damp days running the perpetual hamster-wheel of life. Lucy and Amanda arrived as Nick added the finishing touches to the large picnic rug and selection of fruits and treats laid beneath a plane tree by the lake.

  ‘Glass of wine?’ he called with a grin as the pair startled at the scene in front of them.

  ‘Nick! What have you done?’ Lucy gasped as a plastic cup of sparkling wine was thrust in her hand.

  ‘He’s trying to make amends, Luce.’ Konrad said appearing from behind a tree and fastening his fly with his right hand; his left arm sporting a cast covered in unsightly black squiggles, ‘You’ve made him go all gooey on us!’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ Nick spat.

  ‘Have you just done a wee behind there?’ Lucy questioned as Konrad fiddled with his fly.

  ‘Of course! I’m a sentient being who lives at one with my natural environment.’

  ‘Did you explain that to the children playing by the lake as you exposed yourself?’ Amanda said scornfully.

  Konrad was taken aback, ‘And you are?’

  ‘I’m Amanda, Lucy’s sister.’

  ‘Ah, of course. The lawyer. Here to tell me what I already know regarding my client’s case. Nice to meet you.’ and he outstretched his unhindered hand, finally free from the fiddlesome fly-fastening.

  ‘Do you mind if we shake once you’ve had an opportunity to wash that? Only I’m a sentient being who prefers to not have contact with pissy hands.’ she said coldly. Konrad withdrew it and wiped it on the back of his Bermuda shorts; Nick passed cups of overfilled bubbly wine to Konrad and Amanda. ‘Sorry to hear about the attack by the way.’ Amanda added, nodding to his arm cast.

  ‘What’s with all the black scribbles? Your cast looks like a chess board!’ Lucy said.

  ‘Him!’ he snarled gesturing to Nick; Lucy shrugged awaiting elaboration. ‘Every time I doze off he draws a cock and balls in permanent marker!’ Nick rolled around the rug in self-satisfied laughter, squashing a plate of sandwiches. ‘It isn’t funny; I’ve only had this a few days!’

  ‘I know! You’ve got five more weeks of this!’