Double Ex: A Romantic Comedy about Lost Love & Lookalikes

by Lee Daniel Bullen

  ‘Can I help you?’ shouted an ageing woman with silver split-ended hair hanging wet clothes on a line. She walked down to them and placed a tender hand on Konrad’s shoulder, ‘Hello brother.’ she said mistaking him for a hippie. She turned to Nick, eyeing him up and down, ‘Are they for us?’ and she grabbed the coffee mugs from his hands.

  ‘I’m looking for Ilove.’ he said.

  ‘Are you now? And what do you want him for?’

  He looked into her eyes, failing to hide his disdain for the person who’d replaced his mother so quickly, ‘I’m his son.’

  Astral stared back, examining his face; without breaking eye contact she shouted out the side of her mouth, ‘Ilove! Can you come out here?’ There was a moment of stillness as the singing stopped, followed by loud tutting and profanity-filled rummaging, then the tarpaulin lifted to reveal a wiry, bald man with long white beard; he stopped short at the sight of Nick.

  ‘Ah… the protestant son returns.’ he said dryly.

  ‘Don’t you mean prodigal?’

  ‘Depends on how you view ungodly changes.’

  ‘I wondered how long it would take for you to bring that up.’

  ‘I know! I never fail to disappoint – I’m consistent like that.’

  ‘And was it really as bad as you eloping the second Mum died?’ he fired back; a broad grin stretched across Ilove’s lined face.

  ‘Bloody great to see you, Nick!’ and he rushed forwards to embrace his stiff son. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘We couldn’t visit the island without looking you up.’ Konrad said.

  ‘Kon-radical! Crikey! How are you, brother? What happened to your arm?’

  ‘The result of city living I’m afraid.’

  ‘You still saving the planet?’

  ‘Trying to!’

  ‘Yeh, you look it! Good man! And what about you, Nick? Still slaving away for The Man and that Italian Rottweiler of yours?’ he teased; Nick was unsure how to answer.

  ‘Actually he’s doing neither now.’ Konrad kindly stepped in.

  ‘Good!’ Ilove said, slapping Nick across the shoulder blade, ‘About time you stopped bowing down like an obedient dog!’

  ‘And live free like you?’ he asked sarcastically, eyeing his father’s cave front. Ilove exposed his sparse, discoloured teeth and cackled like a demented wizard; he playfully punched Nick’s arm, ‘That’s the spirit, my boy!’ Nick looked at him oddly. ‘Hey, isn’t it your birthday today?’

  Nick was amazed, ‘You remembered?’

  ‘He remembers everything, Nick. He doesn’t stop talking about you.’ Astral confided, smiling sweetly at him. Konrad’s eyes widened and he began to curse under his breath.

  ‘Unlike my best friend!’ Nick joked.

  ‘I am so sorry, Nick! Happy birthday mate.’ he said ashamedly, ‘I haven’t exactly had the best start to the day!’

  Nick put his arm around him, ‘I know, don’t worry.’

  ‘You wanna come up?’ Astral invited. ‘I think we have some vegan stew left.’ Nick considered the invitation but was pleased when a better idea formed from his reluctance; he turned to Ilove and Astral.

  ‘How about a birthday breakfast out?’

  ‘If you’re paying, yeh! Lovely!’ Ilove said and tossed his remaining coffee on the path; taking Astral’s hand he lead the way, ‘The protestant son returns!’ he shouted through the gully, leaping and punching the air like a geriatric Billy Elliot.

  ‘Thank you for doing this.’ Astral said to Konrad as they sat on the promenade wall outside the cafeteria, watching Nick and his dad chatting intimately at the table, ‘I imagine it couldn’t have been easy!’

  ‘He was a bit reluctant but I could tell he really wanted to.’

  ‘Ilove always wanted to call; it’s just that things didn’t end well last time.’

  ‘Well let’s make sure they stay in contact now!’

  ‘When do you go home?’

  ‘Tonight.’ he replied.

  ‘Oh, so soon?’

  ‘Afraid so – the demands of modern life.’

  ‘Doesn’t have to be like that, you could think about joining us here.’ Astral said.

  ‘If things get any crazier I may just do that!’ he semi-joked. A passer-by noticed Konrad’s distressed appearance and threw a few coins at his feet. ‘In fact the idea’s getting better by the second!’ he said collecting the loose change.

  Nick paid the bill and the pair joined Konrad and Astral outside, ‘I think it’s only fair that we now sing for our supper – or breakfast as it was.’ Ilove said and went to borrow an acoustic guitar from a friend strumming further down the walkway.

  ‘You two take a seat, you’re about to be entertained!’ Astral beamed.

  ‘Oh, you really don’t…’ Nick tried to protest.

  ‘We insist!’ she said as Ilove returned with the guitar and an impish grin.

  ‘Well this is really happening.’ Nick said to Konrad, ‘I need a beer for this.’ and he hopped off the wall and returned to the café, taking a front-row seat at a table yards from the imminent concert in his honour. Konrad joined him, ordering two large beers with chasers from the waiter.

  ‘This is dedicated to my son on his birthday.’ Ilove introduced to no one in particular, clearing his throat and strumming an off-tune C on the guitar. Some holidaymakers enjoying breakfast in the café curiously lifted their heads before lowering them as soon as the singing began, ‘Imagine there’s no heaveeen…’

  As part of the impromptu promenade spectacle Astral began to move hypnotically, swaying to the disjointed music and dancing up to intimidated passers-by. ‘It’s easy if you tryyy…’

  Nick shrunk in his seat as people gave the troubadours a wide berth; the waiter arrived with their shots which they drank upon contact with the table surface, ‘This is going to mentally scar.’ he said as he hid his face in his hands.

  Lucy sat alone on the plane, staring out of the window at the Sun setting behind the dark mountainous outlines of Tenerife and neighbouring islands far below. The bands and their entourage snubbed her in favour of an air of deflated silence and stony stares.

  A young couple across from Lucy, clearly on their way down from the previous night’s highs, croaked excitedly about the festival, ‘God, my hangover’s getting worse!’ laughed the man.

  ‘Mine too, but then we haven’t really slept.’ replied his hoarse girlfriend. ‘Was a brilliant night, I really enjoyed the trip, thank you.’ and she leaned over and planted a tired kiss somewhere near his cheek.

  ‘I’m glad we didn’t have to suffer Corsica Coleman! That reggae band were brilliant… what were they called again?’ the man asked, trying to stretch out the night’s emotions a bit longer. Loaded’s manager overheard and started to whisper to people around him.

  ‘Basil Brown’s Booty Town, I think. I really hope they get the attention they…’

  ‘OH, SHUT UP!’ Lucy shouted across to them.

  Nick and Konrad sat together on their flight also looking worse for wear following a day of celebration. Konrad puffed out his slightly-green cheeks and tried to hold in body gas desperate to escape.

  ‘It’s been one hell of a long day! Hope you had a good birthday, mate.’ he said, and turned into his seat to sleep. Nick was flicking through photos of Lucy on his phone from the previous evening. He looked at Konrad and thought it best to leave his friend rest; he hiccupped and went back to the photos, distracted in a hazy world.

  Summer rain poured from the moody night sky as Amanda’s SUV arrived outside her apartment in Camden Square. Samoan Sam was watching from his car parked along the street; he spotted Lucy collect her suitcase which she struggled to lift to the entrance, refusing Amanda’s help all the while.

  ‘Ah, been away have we?’ he smiled to himself then quickly drove off.

  Sam sat outside Nick and Konrad’s apartment on Camden High Street checking for signs of life. Following several nights of unsuccessful stakeouts he’d grown accust
omed to long waits and brought a bounty of snacks with him. He reached into the box on the backseat and pulled out a vacuum flask of coffee and a small mountain of sandwiches, then placed his smartphone on the dashboard to watch episodes of Friends.

  Sam woke himself by pouring coffee down his leg; he startled and anxiously looked around. As his makeshift TV played the end credits he reached into his stakeout box and tore off kitchen roll to mop his trousers; he then folded his arms and sat back, blinking heavily to help him focus. Further down the street Nick and Konrad were hurrying out of Camden Town tube station, wheeling their bags along the pavement and bickering like an old married couple. As they approached their apartment Sam noticed them and smiled.

  ‘So you’re back too!’

  Found them at last! Taking action…

  He sent the message to Josh and reached into his box, removing four stuffed toy horses and a large pair of scissors; a sinister glint flashed across his eyes.

  Chapter 12

  Heads & Tales

  Konrad jolted awake to the surreal experience of finding teddy bear stuffing up his nostrils. He pulled out the puffy polyester filling and noticed his chest and abdomen also covered; he shrieked, pulled down the duvet and saw a sea of stuffing all over the bed, screaming as he noticed the decapitated head of a toy horse by his feet. His cries echoed all over Camden High Street, waking Nick and half the neighbourhood.

  ‘Don’t be seen with Nick Green!’ read a small note attached to the mutilated, not-so-cuddly toy. He jumped out of bed hyperventilating and reread the strange warning made with glued magazine letters as Nick burst into the room holding a similar horse head and note; Konrad nearly jumped out his skin. Nick began to pace, failing to notice his friend’s distress. He read out the message.

  ‘Stay free of the other three!’ What the hell does that mean?’ he asked Konrad as stuffing poured onto the bedroom carpet from his beheaded animal.

  ‘I… I have no idea.’ Konrad replied as he slumped on the bed and took deep-breaths into a paper bag.

  Nick stormed over to the window and looked along the street for suspicious characters or unusual activity, ‘Did someone break in here last night?’

  ‘Well I didn’t bloody do it!’ Konrad shouted back, throwing up balls of stuffing and horse limbs from his bed to make a point.

  ‘Then what’s going on?’ he asked desperately. During Konrad’s inability to answer Nick’s phone started to ring, ‘Lucy!’ he said with his first smile of the day. It was short-lived. ‘What?’ he exclaimed as Konrad jumped for the umpteenth time that morning. While Nick listened intently Konrad studied his face, growing more anxious by the second. ‘Okay don’t worry, meet me for coffee when you finish work. Speak soon.’

  ‘What happened?’ Konrad asked, sensing the situation was worse than feared.

  ‘Lucy and Amanda had heads in their beds too!’ he said, dropping next to Konrad on the bed, ‘They came with a note; Don’t be seen with Nick Green! Why’s someone doing this, Kon?’

  He showed Nick his note with the same warning, ‘I don’t know, mate.’

  After nervously spending the day at home Nick made his way to the cemetery to visit his mother, always a therapeutic distraction, and he felt himself loosening as he idly chatted with the headstone. When Lucy passed through looking drained from the showdown with her boss she illuminated at the sight of Nick; they stopped to say their goodbyes to Gloria’s marker and made their way to the local coffeehouse.

  The pretty barista shifted uncomfortably as Nick entered; he hadn’t called, as promised, and she anxiously looked away. As he approached the counter he studied her suspiciously, briefly considering her a suspect in the horse heads scandal.

  ‘Hi Nick.’ she said sweetly, ‘Nice to see you.’

  ‘Yeh, you too…’ he searched his memory for her name; shamefully he couldn’t remember. ‘How are you?’ he added to disguise his mental slip.

  ‘I’m well.’ and she proceeded to tell Nick about her week in banal length. He saw her charming innocence and felt silly for considering her a possible culprit. ‘And you?’ she asked, snapping him out of his internal pondering.

  ‘Beset with problems! But I’ll tell you another time. Can we get two cappuccinos?’ he said wanting to sit down and discuss the day’s events with Lucy.

  ‘YOU DID WHAT?’ Josh shouted down the line from his plush study.

  ‘You said warn them subtly.’ Samoan Sam replied.

  ‘Subtly? You just committed two acts of breaking and entering and criminal threatening! And it won’t take a genius to lead this back to me!’

  ‘They wouldn’t dare, boss. I know these people.’ he said confidently.

  ‘Then you know that one of them is a renowned lawyer!’

  ‘She’s running scared, I’ve got this.’

  ‘No you haven’t! Horse heads and poetry, are you insane?’

  ‘Yes!’ he answered rashly, ‘I mean about the statement; it’s powerful but absurd – they won’t know what to make of it!’

  ‘I don’t know what to make of it!’ he hollered. Sofia walked down the hall with a tray of fresh coffee and overheard Josh on the phone; she leaned against the door to eavesdrop. ‘I do know this puts a lot of unnecessary heat on me!’ he said, pacing his office. ‘Look, don’t do anything else for now. Nick’s sentencing is in a fortnight, I want you to lie low. Get out of town for a bit.’

  Sofia straightened at the mention of the name, ‘Nick?’ she mouthed.

  ‘Let’s just hope Lucy stays away and none of this gets back to Sofia. Now bugger off and don’t do anything else!’ and he slammed the phone down. ‘Shit!’ he shouted at the ceiling just as Sofia decided to knock and enter the study with steaming coffee.

  ‘Here you go, baby. Made you a fresh pot.’ she planted a tender kiss on his cheek and stood behind him to massage his shoulders, pondering what she’d just overheard.

  ‘But it has to be him!’ Nick protested, burning his lip on the piping hot cappuccino. He scowled at the barista, somehow thinking she’d made it so fiery on purpose.

  ‘No, it couldn’t be. Josh wouldn’t do something like this. It has to be someone else, who have you upset recently?’

  ‘Lucy, the only thing out of the ordinary all year was the fight in the pub, when you yourself told me Josh was someone I shouldn’t have messed with! What do you know about him?’

  Lucy sighed, ‘Not much really.’ She carefully sipped her coffee as Nick fussed over his burning top-lip, ‘He’s very rich.’

  Nick nodded, ‘Yeh, yeh, well-known art dealer, got a big gallery in Soho, I know all that.’

  ‘I’ve heard he has his finger in many pies; he’s from a privileged background, is very influential, but not nearly as clean-cut as he seems.’

  ‘So he’s involved in stuff?’

  ‘So I’ve heard.’

  ‘Then it has to be him!’ he stated absolutely, thumping the table for emphasis.

  ‘Nick, he’s big league; professional. Cutting heads off cuddly toys and silly poems isn’t something he’d be involved in. Seems more like a nutty ex-girlfriend…’ she said trying to steer him onto possible scorned lovers, ‘Could it be her?’ she indiscreetly pointed to the barista.

  ‘No.’ he said tiredly.

  ‘Sofia?’

  Nick shook his head, refusing to entertain the notion, ‘Look, whoever did this broke into two apartments during the night – while we were all sleeping – and didn’t take anything or leave a sign that they were there! I know because I’ve been home all day looking. This was professional, Lucy.’

  She considered a moment but dismissively shook her head, ‘No, I don’t buy that it’s Josh. There’s no reason, and he’d never be so stupid as to do something with your sentencing coming up, he’d have to be an idiot!’

  Nick threw his hands in the air like a Latin footballer, ‘Then I don’t bloody know!’ he sighed, looking around for an official to administer Lucy with a yellow card.

  ‘Amanda called the
police this morning. I think you should too.’ she said.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I reckon the best thing I can do is what the notes say – stay away from everyone.’

  ‘Poppycock!’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Balderdash!’

  ‘I’m sorry are we in Victorian London right now?’

  She grabbed his hand, ‘Nick, I want to be with you.’

  ‘Lucy…’

  ‘Can I come back to yours?’

  ‘Come back?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘Is that a good idea? The notes…’

  ‘Stop worrying, I don’t want to be anywhere else.’ she said tenderly and walked to Nick’s side of the table and cuddled him from behind. He felt a weight of pressure leave his body.

  ‘Thank you, Luce.’

  ‘Come on, let’s go!’ and she coolly led the way out of the coffeehouse. Nick sat motionless considering the strange position he was putting his friends in, then selfish desire took over and he got to his feet and hurried after her, waving at the smiling barista as he followed Lucy out the door.

  ‘So are we playmates now?’ he asked cheekily as they powered along the pavement.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Friends with benefits!’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ she said, shoving him away. ‘Nick, I want to be with you – even after being threatened by a decapitated teddy bear! What does that tell you?’

  ‘That you’re crazy?’ he joked, although if he wanted to he could’ve seen that it told him a great deal; instead he chose to concentrate on the sexy proposition and what to say to Konrad when they got home.

  ‘It’s been a strange day, I just want to relax.’ she said.

  ‘How did it go at work?’ he asked, putting his arm round her waist as they walked along Eversholt Street.

  ‘Not bad.’ she lied.

  Konrad arrived home from work clutching a stack of newspapers, most thriving on the character assassination of Corsica Coleman on their front pages, just as she’d predicted, following her festival no-show. He sat on the sofa, flicking through the gloomy articles, immorally dissecting every aspect of her person. He opened his laptop and checked her social media pages for updates or comments but she’d opted to lay low. He wished he could contact her, send her a message of support, anything, but such lines weren’t open for general members of the public like him. He decided to at least defend her on some of the more vitriolic online forums – where people felt compelled to tear her down in the most personal ways possible – and make amends for formerly being one such scathing detractor.