by Daniel Grant
‘Wait, Svetla…I’ll pack the stuff. Pick it up on Wednesday, okay?’
‘Okay. Thank you. But do me one favour?’
‘What?’
‘Don’t be there. Just let me pick it up. I think we’ve had enough dramas.’
‘What dramas?’
‘Please, Ollie,’ she says. I breathe out, a crap attempt at calming the shitstorm pelting down on me.
‘Okay,’ I say.
‘I’ll be over on Wednesday morning.’
‘I’ll leave the box outside.’
‘Okay. Thanks. Bye.’
‘Bye.’ She hangs up. I think that went well, all things considered, don’t you? What? Oh, you think I’m going to do what she’s asked? That I’m not going to lie in wait for her? You are so wrong. So, so wrong.
After an unfulfilling day, I arrive back at the flat around six-thirty. The shock of speaking to Svetla on the phone still pulsates through my soul. She sounded so…normal.
The flat’s deserted, no one in the living room. Ashley must be at work. I look down the corridor to see Parker’s door is ajar, no one home. Nice. For once, I have the place to myself. I walk into the living room and collapse on the sofa. I can’t even be bothered to take my jacket off. I flick the TV on and channel-hop, looking for something to watch. My mind replays some of the conversation with Svetla. I know she said she had moved on and everything but she still sounded like she missed me. I don’t blame her, I am pretty missable.
Not sure what I do about Lauren. I like her. I mean, she’s stunning to look at and I’d be up for something physical but do I want to head down that alley? Am I being responsible or is she just a distraction from Svetla? What do I want? That’s the question that has become a recurring theme. I hear the front door open and voices echo around the corridor. Parker and…another female. I sit up, suddenly interested. The door to the living room opens.
‘…exactly which is why I said to her-’ Parker stops in mid flow. ‘Oh…I thought you were seeing that girl.’ Behind Parker stands a girl I have never seen before, wearing a light grey pleated coat. She has long dark hair, naturally long eyelashes and thin lips. In summary, she’s pretty but not like amazing. I look at her then over to Parker who’s already rolling his eyes.
‘Nope, that was last night. I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced,’ I say, standing up and offering my hand to the addition to our little family. ‘I’m Ollie.’
‘This is Nicola,’ Parker says. She smiles but doesn’t say anything as she shakes my hand.
‘Nicola, nice to meet you,’ I say.
‘And you,’ she says. Suddenly everything feels awkward. Parker apparently wasn’t expecting me to be here and now appears to be unsure what to do about it.
‘Maybe we should…go to my room?’ Parker says, glancing at her. She nods and looks over at me.
‘So, how do you two know each other exactly?’ I ask.
‘I’m an old school friend,’ she says at exactly the same time as Parker says,
‘We used to work together.’ They both glance at each other.
‘Right,’ I say.
‘Shall we..?’ Parker indicates for Nicola to leave.
‘It’s funny ‘cos, I was at school with Parker and I don’t remember you at all.’ Look, I know I’m bad but I’m enjoying this.
‘Well, I went to a different school and we’d meet up after,’ she says, more confidently. I frown.
‘Ah. So are you two..?’
‘None of your fucking business,’ Parker says.
‘Parker!’ Nicola says. He looks at her then to me. I am beaming at this point, a big smile right the way across my face.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘We’re now going to go to my room. So, I’ll see you later, yeah?’
‘Sure buddy. Hey, nice to meet you Nicola.’
‘You too,’ Nicola replies, walking out. Parker gives me his evil stare which tells me I’m dead, then follows her out. I hear his door close. Blimey. Where did she come from? I thought Parker just sat in his room all day writing poor prose and masturbating. Instead he’s got a bit on the side that I knew nothing about and they seem to have known each other for a long period of time. Parker obviously wanted it kept secret and now I’ve just managed to torpedo the whole charade. Brilliant. I can’t wait to interrogate him when she’s gone. Awesome. What a tossa.
I’m halfway through another repeat episode of Planet Earth when I get a text from Lauren. It says ‘Hi there, wonder if you fancied coming to a BBQ on Sat PM? Few people from work, could be fun, what do u reck? L x.’ Hmm, BBQ eh? Another one of those work things where the only person I know is her. If that cock James is there I’ll probably have to make chit-chat with him. Can I be bothered? It would be another ‘date’ with Lauren I guess. Maybe we could sneak off and mess around in the bushes somewhere? I’m guessing the place will be large enough for such a venture. I suppose it could be fun. I click reply and say, ‘Hi L, BBQ sounds fun. Where/when? Maybe we can get into some trouble? The Olster x.’ I send it and throw the phone back on to the table. Before I turn the sound on the TV back up, I suddenly hear a female voice. I listen, straining to hear. Nothing. I wait, convinced I heard something worth listening out for. Then I hear her again. A moan. Oh Christ, Parker and Nicola are having sex. Another moan, then again.
‘Ooo yeah,’ I hear them clearly.
‘Shh,’ Parker’s unmistakable tones. My hand, clutching the remote, hovers in the air. I’m unsure if I want to listen to this but morbid fascination stops me turning the TV back up. The room has gone quiet again. Then,
‘Oh fuck! Right there, don’t stop you fucking arsehole!’ I hear Nicola say. Jesus. Nicola didn’t like it when Parker used the ‘f’ word before and now she is either suffering from tourettes or the man is screwing the swear words out of her. ‘God, don’t stop…don’t you ever stop…oh no…Parker come on!’ I can’t help it, I’m laughing now. My hand is over my mouth. ‘You’re kidding me?’ then I hear Parker say,
‘I’m sorry darling but you said…(something unintelligible)…and you know when you do that, five minutes is my record.’ Oh this is classic. The ridicule is going to last for years. No wonder he never brought her back here before.
‘It’s on my jumper, have you got a towel or something?’ Oh guys, really? Come on.
‘Yeah, hang on.’ I quickly hit the volume up button. David Attenborough’s voice suddenly fills the room. It couldn’t be more obvious if I’d tried. I hear Parker walk into the kitchen, then the tap starts running. That is so nasty, I’ve got a good mind to tell him so. In fact-
I jump up from the sofa and walk into the kitchen. Parker turns from the sink. He’s wearing a light pink dressing gown. It looks…silly.
‘Having fun there?’ I ask, smiling.
‘Don’t say a word. I don’t want to hear a fucking word from you.’ I hold my hands up.
‘Hey, big guy. I never said nothing.’
‘Yeah, keep it that way.’ He’s holding a small tea towel under the tap. He turns the tap off and squeezes the tea towel.
‘What’s that for?’ I ask, smiling.
‘Please fuck off, Ollie. Please.’ I nod.
‘Sure. Yep. I hear you. No more questions from me.’
‘Great.’ He goes to leave.
‘If it’s wool, you might have to put it on a delicate wash if the tea towel doesn’t do it.’ Parker stands, frozen. His back turned towards me. I wait for his reaction and some possible form of physical harm to come to me. Instead he just walks out and back down the hallway to his room. I’m trying not to laugh but it I can’t help it. Absolutely brilliant.
I hear my phone bleep again and walk back into the living room, wiping a tear from my eye. Lauren’s replied. ‘Hi The Olster?? trouble sounds like fun. It’s at James Kennedy’s apartment in Rotherhithe next Saturday. I’ll email you the address. Looking forward to seeing you. The Batester x.’ Fuck yeah.
Of course, before the BBQ, I have another little matter to take care of. Sve
tla.
Wednesday comes around fast. I have to call in sick as it’s not my day off. Paul is dubious about the cold/flu I have suddenly developed but doesn’t question it. I have packed all the items Svetla wants into a box which I carry into the living room. Ashley sits, watching the TV in her pub uniform. Parker’s not around, I assume he’s off with Nicola, the sex-swearing fiend.
‘Thought you were working today?’ she says.
‘Uh, no. Day off,’ I reply, putting the box on the table.
‘Yeah? You have more time off than Santa Claus, you know that?’
‘Thanks for that.’
‘It’s true. I marvel they actually still employ you.’
‘So do I mate.’
‘You know about Parker’s bit on the side?’ she asks.
‘Nicola? Yeah. How do you know about her?’ I reply.
‘I was doing a bit of spring cleaning, which doesn’t happen often enough,’ she says. I nod in agreement. ‘Anyway, I was replacing the bin liner in the bathroom and I saw a used condom. Figured it couldn’t have been you. But I admit, it was…disturbing.’
‘Yeah. I imagine it would be. That’ll teach you to start cleaning.’
‘Rookie mistake,’ she says, glancing over at the box. ‘What’s in the box?’
‘Uh, just some stuff I’m getting rid of.’
‘Can I have a look?’ She gets up and walks over to me. Before I can respond she says, ‘unless…you don’t want me to?’
‘No, no, it’s fine. Just charity crap.’ She starts going through it and soon pulls out a CD.
‘Lionel Ritchie?’ she asks, holding it up.
‘I’m getting rid of it.’
‘How do you even own this?’
‘It was Svetla’s,’ I reply, almost without thinking. Ashley’s smile disappears and she looks into the box again.
‘Is this…all Svetla’s? You’re giving it away?’ she asks, staring at me. I open my mouth but I can’t slot the words together. She sees my hesitation. ‘She’s coming over, isn’t she?’
‘No…why, would you think that?’ I reply. Ashley tilts her head. ‘Alright yes she’s coming over.’
‘Ollie…’ she says.
‘What?’ I reply, trying not to sound defensive.
‘Do you like pain or something?’
‘I said I’d leave it outside for her to take.’
‘Yeah? How come it’s in here then?’
‘Because…look I don’t have to justify myself to you,’ I say. She gives me a simple smile. ‘What’s that look for?’
‘It’s going to end in tears,’ she says, glancing over to the clock. ‘Shit, is that the time? No good me chatting away like this, some of us have got to work.’ She grabs her bag and turns to face me. ‘Hey…good luck,’ she says, patting my shoulder.
‘Thanks,’ I reply. I’ll need it.
She smiles, turns and walks out. I hear the door open then close. I don’t know what to do now. Maybe I should just leave it outside and not engage with Svetla. That would be the honourable thing to do. Thing is, I’m not honourable.
I sit on the sofa waiting. I look at the clock. 11:03. I have no idea when she might get here, she did say morning. I look through the box to make sure I’ve packed everything she asked for. I pull out a pink, fluffy scarf and run it through my fingers. Soft. I smell it. It still has the faintest trace of her smell. I close my eyes. I pull out a framed photo of Svetla posing with uh…oh god what’s his name? That celebrity on…you know, the one that does Match of the Day. Forget it. I look at Svetla’s eyes. So happy, so sexy.
I hear a car pull up outside. I quickly put the photo and scarf back into the box. I locate the Lionel Ritchie CD and place it next to the photo. I close the box and walk over to the window. Outside, her distinctive red VW Polo is parking up. I wait, keeping close to the wall. I hear the car door open and glance out. There she is, dressed in a black suit. I’ve never seen her in a suit before. Damnit, why’d she have to look so stunning? Her hair is tied back and her high heels clip-clop on the tarmac. She gets to the stairs and starts walking up. I grab the box and walk to the front door. I see her hazy figure through the frosted glass. She’s obviously looking for the box. I open the door. She’s bent over, searching next to the door. Quickly, she straightens up. We stare at each other.
‘Hi,’ I say. A hand moves onto her hip.
‘Hi,’ she replies, ‘I thought you were just going to leave the box.’ I nod slowly.
‘Yeah, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see you.’ She looks at me, her eyes unsure what to say. ‘You look good.’ She looks uncomfortable.
‘Thanks,’ she replies, looking down at the box in my hands, ‘is that everything?’
‘Yeah, you want me to put it in the car?’ I say. She thinks for a moment then seemingly gives in.
‘Sure.’
I follow her downstairs and over to the car. She opens the boot and I place the box inside. I step back and she closes it. Our eyes meet, she looks away.
‘So, are you doing okay?’ she asks.
‘Yeah, you know. Things are good.’ She nods slowly.
‘What about you? You get that job?’
‘Yeah. It’s going really well.’ Her accent faintly slurs the words, the familiarity of it suddenly makes my heart sink.
‘Good.’ A long pause before I say, ‘I’ve missed you.’ She looks at me, forlorn eyes.
‘We can’t do this, Ollie.’
‘I know, I know. I just…wanted you to know,’ I say.
‘It’s not easy for me. I loved you, you have no idea how much -’ she replies.
‘I do-’
‘No you don’t. You threw it all away. Such a waste,’ she says, shaking her head.
‘Maybe we could-’
‘Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say that. Bad enough I have to come here but to see you, speak to you as well?’ She sighs. ‘I have to go.’
‘Wait, look, let’s give it another try. I know I was arse, I know I was selfish and took you for granted but these last few months have been literally the worst of my life. I can’t think without you. Can’t do anything worth anything.’
‘It’s too late Ollie. It’s all too late.’
‘Svetla, please.’
‘I have to go.’ She places a hand on my shoulder, leans in and kisses me on the cheek. ‘Take care of yourself, okay.’ I want to be dignified, strong in this moment but I’m panicking.
‘Svetla please, don’t go okay? Why don’t we just go for a chat somewhere? Talk through the things we need to get sorted.’ She sighs, opens the door without looking at me and gets in. I stand there, not wanting her to leave but unable to throw away any remaining pride. She closes the door. ‘I love you,’ I say. She looks at me, shakes her head, a vague disappointment in her eyes, then starts the engine. There’s nothing more to say. I can only watch as she drives to the end of my road, indicates left and is gone. I stand, staring after her, hoping that I might see her little red car drive back. It doesn’t.
The rest of the day moves achingly slow. I keep replaying the conversation with Svetla in my head. She really is moving on. I know I need to do the same but there’s a need, a desperation in me that I just can’t let go. I want her to be happy. I just happen to think she’d be happiest with me. I was a dickhead during the last few months of our relationship, but I really think if we were to get back together now it would be a completely different story.
I sit on the sofa, leaning forward, staring at the floor. I run my hands through my hair and cover my face. I breathe into my palms and close my eyes. Fuck me, this is hard. I need someone to talk to. I think I could do with some sense being knocked into me. Ashley is the best person for that. My hands drop from my face and I sigh heavily. My eyes wander to the window, the sun is partially blocked by a cloud floating in front of it. The sky looks like a Turner painting, almost as if The Divine is trying to tell me to get it together. I take the hint. Right.
I stand up and pull on a coat
. It’s not cold out but it’s not hot either. I grab my keys from the table and head out. I walk along Northcote Road with purpose. Lots of people out today, buses rev loudly past me. Every so often someone beeps at the person in front of them. Ashley will give me good advice. If I’m honest, I know what she’s going to say. I need to move on, get on with it, go out with Lauren etc. but I still need to hear it.
I round the corner and cross the road, narrowly avoiding a double-decker that races passed me. Fucking bus drivers and he has the gall to give me an evil. What a cock. I get to Ashley’s pub, open the door and walk inside. It’s quiet again. The old man in the shabby black coat, who spoke to me the first time I came in here, is sitting at the bar, reading a newspaper. He must live here. A tourist couple sit in the corner looking at photos on their camera. I walk in slowly and approach the bar. A tall bodybuilder type barman is polishing glasses. He nods at me as I approach.
‘Hello mate, what can I get you?’ he asks, in a surprisingly cheerful voice.
‘Uh, just a Coke please,’ I reply. He puts the empty glass down.
‘Is Pepsi okay?’ he asks. I frown. No, if I wanted Pepsi I would have asked for fucking Pepsi. I want Coke.
‘Sure. Is uh, Ashley here?’
‘Yeah, she’s out back with Norman,’ he replies, filling the empty glass from the Pepsi hose. Norman? Who’s he, the manager? Something inside me suddenly feels uncomfortable. ‘Here you go, one pound fifty please.’ I pay him. ‘You want me to get her?’
‘It’s okay, if she’s busy. I’ll just be over here,’ I reply, walking over towards a booth. As I put my glass down on the table, I glance to the left and see Ashley in the shadows, mid-snog. The subject of her affection is a middle-aged guy wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a tank top, last known whereabouts, nineteen sixty-two. I look away, hoping she hasn’t seen me and feeling strangely embarrassed. Unfortunately, she has.
‘Ollie? What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?’ I turn and smile.
‘Hi. No. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were…busy,’ I say. They both look down. She turns and walks over to me. The guy, who I assume to be called Norman, takes his cue and walks through a door that reads ‘Staff Only.’