If You're Not the One

by Jemma Forte

  ‘Ah, bloody brilliant. I’ve been dying to sit down for ages,’ said Max once they’d successfully nabbed the seats. Jennifer had to admit it felt very good to sit. Her heels were starting to kill her.

  ‘So, how come I’ve not met you before then?’ asked Max.

  ‘Don’t know,’ shrugged Jennifer, taking the bottle which he was handing to her now and taking an enormous swig. Man alive that was strong.

  ‘Because I’ve met Karen and Pete a few times now but you’ve never been around.’

  ‘International woman of mystery me,’ replied Jennifer.

  ‘It’s Jennifer isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, and you’re Max?’

  He nodded. ‘So Jennifer, international woman of mystery, have you got a boyfriend?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, turning to look him straight in the eye. Her tone almost defiant.

  ‘And who is he?’

  ‘Steve.’

  ‘Steve eh? And what’s Steve like?’

  ‘He’s lovely. Obviously. Or I wouldn’t go out with him.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Max, grinning and taking the rum back off her.

  ‘What about you? Are you single?’

  ‘Yup.’

  Jennifer looked around the room. A couple were snogging up against the opposite wall. They were both so drunk it was pretty off-putting and rather grim to watch. You could see their tongues rotating.

  ‘Nice eh?’ said Max.

  Jennifer pulled a face. ‘I hate public displays of affection like that.’

  ‘I’m not sure if that counts as affection,’ Max laughed. ‘More like desperation.’

  They sat in silence for a while, Jennifer wondering if perhaps she shouldn’t be going to find Steve. Only she knew he was fine and actually they had found a pretty good spot here and she was reluctant to give it up and return to stalking round the house looking for something to do or someone to talk to.

  ‘Great set earlier by the way.’

  ‘Oh good. Glad you liked it. To be honest I haven’t DJ’d since my university days but Drifter was desperate for me to help him out so he didn’t have to do it all night.’

  ‘Ah, well that answers the next question I was going to ask which was do you do it for a living? Only, there’s a girl at my work who’s looking for someone good for her thirtieth.’

  Max regarded her in a way that she liked. He was very sexy. She suspected if she wasn’t attached he’d be flirting with her. She turned away. She didn’t want to encourage him or give him the wrong impression.

  ‘Well, you never know, if it was for a friend of yours perhaps I could come out of retirement,’ said Max, which only confirmed what she’d just thought.

  ‘OK great, are you expensive?’

  ‘If it’s her birthday I’m sure I can come up with a reasonable rate.’

  ‘Ah, I like that,’ smiled Jennifer.

  ‘What, that I’m cheap?’

  ‘No, that you would be generous because it’s her birthday.’

  ‘Well they only happen once a year. Obviously.’

  ‘Which is exactly why I’ve never understood people who can’t be bothered to celebrate. I always celebrate mine by doing something. In fact my whole family make a big deal out of everyone’s birthday. Always have done.’

  ‘Even as they get older?’

  ‘Especially as they get older. I mean, a birthday isn’t just about the day itself, it’s about celebrating another whole year of living isn’t it?’

  ‘Heaven forbid your boyfriend ever forgets yours. I can tell you feel quite strongly about this.’

  ‘He wouldn’t forget,’ grinned Jennifer. ‘Not if he knew what was good for him.’

  Her gaze drifted back to the couple across the room who were now really going at it. His hands were everywhere, up her skirt, down her top. It was horrible.

  ‘So where’s Steve now then?’ enquired Max.

  ‘Upstairs. He’s a bit wrecked to be honest.’

  ‘Ooh, upchucking is he? Last of the great romantics.’

  ‘Oi you,’ said Jennifer, giving him a bit of a nudge. ‘I’ll have you know Steve is ridiculously romantic.’

  ‘Is he now? In what way? What’s the most romantic thing he’s done for you then?’

  She toyed with telling him to mind his own bloody business but in the end decided he was only having a bit of fun so went with it. ‘OK, well he’s always telling me I’m beautiful.’

  Max nodded. ‘Well, he’s got a point there. He’s a lucky guy your Steve and I hope you know I’m only being like this because I’m disgustingly jealous of him and totally unable to get a lovely girlfriend like you myself.’

  Jennifer laughed. ‘You’re terrible.’

  ‘Why? It’s true. Now come on, I’m intrigued. What else does he do? You’ve got to tell me because maybe I can learn from this. Does he compile playlists of music which remind him of you?’

  ‘No,’ admitted Jennifer, thinking that actually that would be quite nice. Steve had never massively been into music, certainly not as much as she was.

  ‘Really?’ said Max. ‘I’m surprised, I would have thought that would have been a dead cert. But the two of you have a song obviously?’

  Jennifer wrinkled her nose up. ‘Um, not really you know.’

  ‘Oh OK, maybe I’m thinking too inside the box,’ admitted Max. ‘It’s just when I saw you dancing earlier I assumed you loved music and that you’d be the sort of person who would always have a song for everything. You’re a good dancer by the way.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jennifer blushing.

  ‘So, out of interest what is your favourite tune?’

  ‘Impossible to answer,’ she shot back. ‘Totally absurd question if you don’t mind me saying because it depends on the mood doesn’t it?’

  ‘All right Miss Pedantic, then how about if you could only ever hear one song for the rest of your life and you had to choose one or have your tits burnt off with a soldering iron. What would it be?’

  ‘“Bittersweet Symphony” by The Verve then.’

  ‘Interesting,’ mused Max. ‘Rum?’

  She took the bottle and swigged from it greedily. ‘We’re like pirates,’ she said, gasping as the strong liquor trickled down her oesophagus.

  ‘Not really,’ said Max in a way that really made her giggle. ‘I’ve got all my teeth for starters, I haven’t got scurvy and I’m not wearing an earring. You look a bit like an addled old sea dog admittedly, but only a bit. Anyway, back to your romantic boyfriend, I want more details.’

  ‘Why are you so interested?’

  Max shrugged. ‘Well, my options are to sit here and chat to you about life and the universe or get forced to DJ for another hour and a half which I really can’t be bothered to do. Besides, I’ve played all my best tunes already, trying and failing to impress you.’

  By now Jennifer was thoroughly enjoying herself.

  ‘Right. Well let’s just sit and talk rubbish then because the last thing this party needs is the scrapings of your DJ barrel.’

  ‘Pirate barrel,’ added Max. ‘Right, let’s continue the interrogation then. What else does Steve do for you that’s romantic?’

  ‘OK then,’ she began. ‘He cooks for me a lot.’

  ‘Nice. And of course he does. I can tell we’re dealing with a proper twenty-first century perfect specimen of manhood here. What kind of thing does he cook?’

  ‘All sorts,’ lied Jennifer. The fact was Steve did cook for her regularly but only ever a variation on one thing. Breakfast, which always comprised of four of the following—sausage, bacon, beans, egg, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms and toast. She’d probably had every possible combination and she loved his breakfasts, though did sometimes wonder if he’d ever experiment with anything else. When questioned he always said there was no point learning to cook when his mum was so good.

  ‘I’ve heard this before you know,’ said Max. ‘That being a dab hand in the kitchen makes girls go weak at the knees. I’ll have to bru
sh up. I can pretty much only do roasts and curries.’

  ‘Well that sounds pretty impressive,’ said Jennifer truthfully. ‘Chuck in a mean spaghetti bolognese and I reckon any girl would be very happy with that.’

  ‘So what else?’ persisted Max. ‘He cooks, he tells you you’re beautiful but what else? Has he ever whisked you away to Paris in the spring, bought you flowers for no reason, showered you with thoughtful gifts, written you poetry, or are these sorts of gestures all too trite and cliché for perfect Steve?’

  ‘Aha,’ said Jennifer triumphantly, glad to have finally come up with something. She’d been starting to panic. ‘I tell you what he did do that was very romantic. He bought me a piece of the moon for my birthday.’

  The expression on Max’s face was not what she’d anticipated at all though. Rather than impressed he looked thoroughly offended.

  ‘What?’ said Jennifer, feeling herself get embarrassed and faintly wishing she’d never mentioned it.

  ‘You are kidding me?’ said Max. ‘You’re not telling me you’re the kind of girl that thinks that sort of thing is actually cool? You’ve suddenly gone right down in my estimation.’

  ‘Why?’ she squealed, blushing furiously.

  ‘So you’re telling me that your boyfriend handed over good money for some bullshit piece of paper that says you own however many square feet of the moon?’

  Jennifer didn’t say anything, but gave him a look designed to warn him not to take the piss too much.

  Not that he took any notice.

  Max laughed, holding his sides as the concept really took hold. ‘Let me guess, did it come with a revolting teddy bear to go with it?’

  ‘No it did not,’ lied Jennifer, hating Max for being so spot on but hating herself more for having given Steve’s lunar purchase as an example of something romantic when at the time she herself had thought it a truly senseless gift.

  ‘But who did he think he was buying it off?’ gasped Max, really enjoying himself now. ‘No one owns the bloody moon so no one has the right to sell it. I tell you what, if I go and make a nice certificate on the computer that says you own some of the sun will you buy it off me for fifty quid?’

  ‘Shut up you,’ said Jennifer, though she couldn’t help but smile a bit. It was pretty ridiculous when you thought about it.

  ‘Is that really romantic or just gullible?’

  ‘Well, if anyone was to colonise the moon then at least I could claim my piece of it,’ she said lamely, remembering what Steve had tried to tell her as she’d looked blankly at her pointless ‘certificate’ wishing it was a top from Whistles.

  ‘Yeah, cos that’s bloody likely isn’t it?’ wheezed Max. ‘That’s really likely to happen in our lifetime. Mm, let’s inhabit a freezing cold oxygen-less satellite we can’t breathe on.’

  ‘You’re very sarcastic aren’t you,’ said Jennifer, turning away so he couldn’t see how much she was starting to laugh.

  ‘And of course if anyone did decide to inhabit the moon and managed to find a way to do that without dying, then traditionally wouldn’t it be the people who colonised it who’d be the ones staking their claim? Not numb-nuts like you, all the way down here, waving your meaningless certificate around and berating them with your teddy bear.’

  Jennifer narrowed her eyes but Max was laughing so hard now it was becoming increasingly infectious and eventually she was laughing as much as he was. The truth was she completely agreed. At the time she’d told her friends how sweet and meaningful she’d found Steve’s present but deep down had wondered how anybody over the age of nineteen could have fallen for such a load of garbage.

  Still, he could tone it down a bit.

  ‘Screw you,’ she said to Max, elbowing him in the stomach while he was bent double laughing.

  A few hours later and it was most definitely time to leave. The police had been round to warn them to turn the music down, people were starting to look like they needed to be horizontal and Jennifer was concerned that Steve was going to vomit everywhere if she didn’t get him back to hers soon.

  ‘Come on,’ she urged, trying to heave him up from where he was slumped on the bottom stair, his head leaning against the wall for support.

  ‘Coming,’ he slurred, just about managing to stagger to his feet.

  ‘Where’s your jumper?’ barked Jennifer who’d really had enough by now.

  ‘Shit. My jumper. It’s upstairs, let me go and get it.’

  ‘For god’s sake,’ she tutted.

  ‘Why are they so annoying?’ said Karen, who was also in the hall, shivering with tiredness, waiting for Pete to stop male bonding with someone so they could leave.

  ‘I’m starting to feel like a bloody sheepdog,’ despaired Jennifer.

  ‘Exactly. I’m gagging to get this bra off too. It’s really digging in now.’

  Rather than wait in the hall any longer, Jennifer decided to pop back into the lounge to say goodbye to Max where he was back on the decks. They’d been keeping each other entertained most of the night and she’d found him great company. Steve had been unable to leave the bedroom for the duration and although she’d sat with him for a while, stroking his brow and reassuring him he’d feel better tomorrow, after a while his ‘whitey’ had started to bore her. As a result she’d ended up hanging out with Max for the majority of the party. He was really bright and funny and challenged her more than Steve ever did. It was quite refreshing.

  ‘Hey you,’ she said, giving the back of his arm a little tap.

  ‘All right? You off then?’

  ‘Yeah, so I just thought I’d come and say bye.’

  ‘Bye,’ he said.

  It was sharp and to the point. Jennifer felt a sharp little stab of disappointment at his lacklustre farewell. However, just as she was about to walk back into the hall the unmistakeable sound of the sweeping strings from the beginning of ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ filled the room.

  Her automatic response was to turn and walk back in. She was so happy to hear it. Back in the room she pointed at Max to acknowledge his gesture and, touched that he’d remembered her favourite song, blew him a kiss.

  In return Max did something tiny but intimate that felt even more romantic than all the compliments she’d ever received from Steve, and definitely beat all the extravagant gifts she used to get from Tim. He raised his right hand up, made a little fist and patted his chest right where his heart was and gave her a look that told her all she needed to know.

  Her stomach whooped with real delight and with that fluttery feeling of butterflies. Oh god what was happening here?

  Having managed to stay in control all evening, convincing herself they were just getting on well as friends, suddenly she didn’t know what to do. She should go.

  Sensing her quandary Max left his post and came over. ‘Can I give you my number?’ he asked over the sound of the tune’s beautiful violin chorus. ‘Actually, scrap that because you’ll never ring and I’ll spend the rest of my life staring at my phone, or getting all excited when it does ring only to discover it’s my mum, so can I have yours?’

  Jennifer honestly did not know what to do.

  She had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who wanted to have her babies.

  A boyfriend who was sweet and lovely to her. A boyfriend who was currently upstairs, staggering around no doubt, trying to find his jumper.

  But she was attracted to Max on so many levels and he wasn’t the only one who had picked up on how well they got on. They’d really connected in a way that seemed quite rare.

  ‘I don’t think I can,’ she said eventually. ‘I’m sorry.’

  She turned to go but giving it one last shot Max said, ‘Well, at least let me take it so I can talk to you about DJing at your friend’s birthday. In other words let me take it in a professional capacity.’

  Jennifer smiled, her mind racing, knowing that what he’d just done was to provide her with an excuse. ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ was still playing. She was feeling quite tipsy and was annoyed
enough with Steve to reason that just giving out her number hardly equated to being unfaithful. It would almost be rude not to if all he wanted to do was talk about playing at Jackie’s birthday party.

  And then, everything in the tunnel froze for a second, like a film which had been paused. In that moment the past collided with the present and Jennifer found herself circling her twenty-five-year-old self. And it was the strangest thing because of course she knew precisely what was supposed to happen next. She knew that she simply hadn’t been able to resist the pull of Max and that she’d had a feeling deep within her gut that she would be insane to let him slip through her fingers. Furthermore, she knew that any second now she would get her lipstick out of her pocket and write her number down Max’s arm, thus ruining her favourite lippy in the process.

  ‘But, as everything started moving again, none of the above was what she saw and Jennifer now understood that this was the point where ‘what could have been’ was about to become apparent for the first time since she’d entered this world. So far what she’d experienced was what did happen. What she’d remembered and reflected on so many times over the years was there to be relived, perfectly vivid and in full Technicolor. It was so bizarre to recall how she’d felt that day. She could practically feel her younger self’s indecision, could see her conflicted mind swirling and knew it was the exact point when things could have very easily gone the other way.

  And in this version she said, ‘I can’t. I just can’t give you my number. I’m really sorry.’ Then she tore out of the room and into the hall where she hauled Steve to his feet and left before anything else could happen.

  As for Max he went home alone and lay in bed thinking about the girl in the pink dress and how he hadn’t met anybody remotely as pretty and funny in years and what a lucky, lucky bloke that Steve was. His last thought before he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep was that he hoped that one day Steve would give her a song that could be theirs. That seemed to be the least she deserved as opposed to what he suspected might be a life sentence of cuddly toys.