Three Way

by Daniel Grant

  ‘I can ask him anything I want,’ she says. Awkward. I try to calm things down again.

  ‘I don’t mind,’ I say to Danny. ‘I did, but we split up.’

  ‘Ahhh,’ Martina says.

  ‘No it’s okay. I’ve found someone else. At least, I think I have.’

  ‘Not sure about her?’ Martina asks. Danny looks up from counting and sighs.

  ‘No I am. I am. Just, it’s new and…she’s quite different to Svetla.’

  ‘You still have feelings for your ex?’ Martina asks.

  ‘Darling, maybe Ollie doesn’t want to talk about this stuff,’ Danny says with forced politeness.

  ‘No it’s fine, really. We were together for a couple of years and maybe I just need to let go but...’

  ‘A heartbreaker?’ Martina asks. I nod slowly.

  ‘Yeah. But then, maybe I broke hers? So I guess we’re even,’ I reply. I opt not to start talking about Rupert Gilbert, whoever he is. Not going to think about him, he’ll only spoil my trip to South Africa but when I get home-

  ‘And what about this new girl?’

  ‘Lauren? She’s great. She’s better than great. Yeah. She’s really pretty.’

  ‘Nice tits?’ Danny asks. I smile.

  ‘Daniel Arnold,’ Martina says, frowning. Danny chuckles. I laugh.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say.

  ‘Just have to get used to her not being your ex-girlfriend, right Ollie?’ she says. I look at Martina. Something about her looks tired and yet this line of questioning seems to have engaged her.

  ‘Right, I guess,’ I say.

  ‘Sometimes you can spend your entire life searching for someone who’s right in front of you. Except you don’t realise they’re even there because they don’t match what you think you were looking for. That’s how it was with Danny and me. I was his producer, setting up his interviews, doing his interviews, writing his scripts-’

  ‘You rarely wrote my scripts,’ Danny says.

  ‘Okay darling,’ she then mouths me to me, ‘I did.’ I smile. ‘What I’m saying is, you’ve got to look at what’s in front of you, not what’s behind you. Because you could be missing out on the best thing that ever happened to you and you wouldn’t even know it because you were too busy looking the other way.’ I nod slowly. ‘Although fifteen years later, let me tell you it does lose a certain degree of its romance.’

  ‘Thanks for that,’ Danny says.

  ‘Well, he’s always off somewhere or other. I’m stuck here being housewife. It’s funny, how you imagine things will end up and how they actually do.’ Danny clears his throat, they exchange a look.

  ‘Let’s not do this now, huh?’ he says.

  ‘Whatever you want. Darling,’ she says. The tension is uncomfortable.

  ‘Shame I can’t stay longer. Would have loved to see more of South Africa,’ I say.

  ‘It is a shame. I could have taken you out to a friend’s farm. He’s got all the Big Five there and some black rhino as well,’ Martina says.

  ‘Big Five?’

  ‘Elephant, lion, buffalo, rhino, leopard,’ she replies.

  ‘Maybe he should call London,’ Danny says, turning to me, ‘check in, you know?’ I nod.

  ‘Yeah, maybe I should,’ I say, unsure exactly what I’m supposed to do, given this is my first ever foreign trip.

  ‘You can use the phone inside, I’ll show you,’ says Martina. I follow Martina into the living room and over to the phone. There are paintings of lions and elephants. There are also strange African statuettes dotted around the room. ‘Why don’t you call this girl?’

  ‘Nah, couldn’t use your phone-’

  ‘Don’t be silly, TBN pick up the bill anyway. Go on, call her, I bet she’d love to hear from you, time difference is the same as London too,’ she says. I nod. Why not, what harm could it do?

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  ‘If you need anything, just shout,’ she says, walking out. I dial the foreign desk number and check in with Robert, the foreign editor. He speaks with a posh accent, you’d never guess he was born in Peckham. He seems surprised I’m calling.

  ‘I thought you were coming straight back,’ he says.

  ‘I am, just…Danny said-’

  ‘I’ve got an earthquake in New Zealand, three British soldiers dead in Afghanistan and a G20 meeting. I’m hoping you can make the flight on your own,’ Robert says. Jesus. Alright, no need to be an arsehole about it.

  ‘Okay, yeah…sorry. See you later.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he replies, hanging up. What a cock. I shake my head and dial Lauren’s number.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Lauren, it’s Ollie.’

  ‘Oh hi, Ollie I’m just in a meeting, can I call you back?’ she whispers.

  ‘Uh, yeah. Well no, I’m sort of at the reporter’s house.’

  ‘What about your mobile?’

  ‘Not sure I can receive the calls, you can try.’

  ‘Okay, you get there okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Hey, if I don’t speak to you, I’m…thinking about you,’ I say.

  ‘Me too, speak soon. Bye,’ she says. Probably the two most unsuccessful back-to-back phone calls I’ve ever made. Then a name pings back into my memory. Rupert Gilbert.

  Saturday. My flight touches down at Heathrow at six in the morning. I spend the entire flight pondering two things. Martina’s advice and the state of her relationship with Danny after being together so long and what I’m going to do about Rupert ‘fucktard’ Gilbert.

  If I really do want to heed what Martina said I should just leave Mr. Gilbert and Svetla to it and let them be happy. I shouldn’t make Parker feel bad about being friends with a shitkicking bumclot like him or for being in touch with my ex behind my back. I should just let it all wash over me. I have a wonderful new girlfriend. There’s no need to continue pining over Svetla. And yet…I want to know. I want to know why Parker is friends with this guy? How does he know him, how does Svetla? I want answers and I’ll explode if I don’t find out.

  I accidently (on purpose) bang the door shut when I get in. It’s 09:25 A.M. Both the living room and Parker’s doors are closed. All is quiet. I walk down the hallway and into my room, listening for any signs of life. I sit down on the bed and run a hand through my hair, breathing out slowly. Then I head into the kitchen to make coffee. I wait as the kettle boils, my mind playing over what I’m going to say when Parker shows himself. I glance out of the window, mostly blue skies with a few clouds dotted around, should be a nice day. Do I need to do this? Couldn’t I just rise above it all, like Martina said? Maybe I could try, maybe I could just see how-

  I hear Parker’s door open. I wait, almost counting the steps until he appears at the door.

  ‘You ever heard of entering quietly?’ he says. He’s wearing boxers and a T-shirt and let me tell you ladies and gentlemen, it is not a pretty sight. He looks like a fat Jesus, except without the beard or street-cred. I say nothing, trying to gather the words. He apparently doesn’t find this strange, or he’s still half asleep. He walks over and pulls the milk out of the fridge.

  ‘You making coffee?’ he asks, yawning.

  ‘No, I’m inflating a bouncy castle,’ I reply. He opens the cupboard and pulls out another mug.

  ‘Why is there always a sarcastic reply to that question? A simple yes would have sufficed. Two sugars, please,’ he says.

  ‘I’ve been living with you for two years, I know how many sugars you have,’ I reply. My tone is mildly threatening and judging by the way his eyes dart left and right, he seems to be processing that.

  ‘Everything go okay in South Africa?’ he asks.

  ‘Yeah, everything went great,’ I reply, with a needless amount of sarcasm.

  ‘Am I missing something?’

  ‘Loyalty,’ I say under my breath.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Okay, I’m going to ask you something and I’d appreciate the truth.’

  ‘Sounds heavy, can I have my coffee first?’ he asks. What th
e hell do I say to that? No?

  ‘Fine,’ I say. The kettle boils, I pour the water into the mugs. We stand saying nothing to each other.

  ‘Well…this is awkward,’ he says.

  ‘Are you friends with someone called Rupert Gilbert?’ I ask. He stares at me, blinks, then after what feels like an age, he sighs.

  ‘Yeah,’ he replies, looking down.

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Fuck I knew this would happen. I told her-’

  ‘Try telling me, huh?’ I say, trying to reign in my anger.

  ‘Okay, look I met him at this party ages ago. He knew Svetla-’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe he worked with her or…I don’t know.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And she introduced me to him and we sort of got on. He owns a Harley dude. But…obviously that’s not important. Svetla left to talk to other people and I was sort of stuck with him but he was cool, you know.’

  ‘Okay, but why are you still hanging out with them?’ I ask.

  ‘I dunno man. I just…he’s cool. I should have told you but I knew you’d go nuts so…I won’t see either of them ever again if that’s what you want,’ he says. I breathe in. It’s fine. So what if she’s going out with someone Parker happens to know and like. She’s single, she can go out with anyone she wants I suppose.

  ‘Well, it has been six months, she was always going to meet someone else eventually, I guess,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, just a bit of an arse they met when you guys were still together.’

  ‘What? Jesus Christ, Parker-’

  ‘I know. I should have said something but you and Svetla were having a really bad time of it back then. Just before you split up, remember? You were arguing and shouting at each other and I didn’t want to make it worse. I sort of told myself, I don’t know, maybe she wasn’t shagging him. Maybe I’d misunderstood.’

  ‘So, this is who she’s with now?’

  ‘I’m not sure-’

  ‘Don’t bullshit me,’ I say. He looks to the ceiling and puts his hands on top of his head.

  ‘Yes,’ he replies. I stare at him, unable to speak. Rage courses through me. The fact he even knows this, tells me all sorts of things. My best friend has been keeping the biggest secret from me. That my girlfriend and some guy were shagging around behind my back. My best friend thought he didn’t need to tell me. My best friend, who’s also ‘friends’ with said shagger. I try to think of something to say that I won’t regret but find myself wondering why exactly this guy is my best friend.

  ‘Where is she?’ I ask.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Where’s she staying?’

  ‘Mate, I don’t think-’

  ‘I don’t give a shit what you think, where the fuck are they living? You must know, you’re friends on Facebook, so cough it up,’ I say.

  ‘It doesn’t have addresses on Facebook,’ he replies, quietly. I glare at him, eyes on fire. ‘Shepherd’s Bush. He owns a house on Brackenbury Road.’

  ‘Number?’

  ‘Mate, don’t do this. Just leave her alone-’

  ‘What’s the fucking number?!’ I shout, shaking with anger. He’s shocked at my tone. So am I, but I’m so furious I can barely control myself.

  ‘I don’t know! It’s a big blue house at the end of the street, it’s obvious. Mate I-’

  I turn and storm out of the flat before he can say anything further. I stomp along Northcote road towards Clapham Junction. Thoughts smack me as I walk. How long were they shagging whilst she was with me? When did she decide to leave me for him?

  I turn the corner and up St John’s Hill to the main entrance of Clapham Junction station. I slam my Oyster card on the reader and head through the barrier, marching towards the Overground platform. The train takes what feels like an age to arrive. I jump on and even though there are plenty of seats, I stand. I try not to let my thoughts form into sentences or questions. I stare out of the window as the train moves off towards Shepherds Bush. Houses and trees trundle past. We ride over the Thames, in the distance I see Battersea Power Station. Four massive cooling towers are all that remain of the ugly shell of a building.

  By the time we pull into Shepherd’s Bush station I’m standing next to the doors. They open and I’m away. I get out my iPhone and type in Brackenbury Road into the map. It’s a twenty minute walk. Fine. Whatever it takes. I head west, following my iPhone.

  In a record fifteen minutes, I round the corner of Brackenbury Road and start looking for a blue house. Parker said it was at the end. I walk down the street and come across...a big blue Georgian terraced house. I look up. Stone steps lead up to a blue door. It’s three storeys and it has a basement with a window. Every house along this road looks the same. There’s a window box with pink flowers under the first floor window. I walk up the steps and bang on the door. I hear someone coming, and ready myself. The door opens and a man steps out in front of me. He wears wire-thin glasses, a dressing gown and slippers. He also has a half smoked cigarette in his mouth and a bowl of cereal in his hand. He looks like a drug addict with zero prospects. This is the guy she left me for?

  ‘Can I help you?’ he asks, politely.

  ‘Does someone called Svetla live here?’ I ask. He eyes me suspiciously.

  ‘Yeah. Who are you?’ he asks, frowning. From behind him, I hear her voice.

  ‘Who is it?’ she asks, suddenly appearing at the door. Her surprise is clear when she sees me. ‘Ollie? What are you doing here?’

  ‘I thought we’d have a chat,’ I say, calmer than even I thought possible. Rupert glances at Svetla seemingly unsure whether he has to fight me or not.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she says, moving past Rupert. She wears tracky bottoms and a hoodie with a worn Thundercat logo. The hoodie she used to wear when we had days off together.

  ‘I just want to know how long it was going on for,’ I say.

  ‘Shh,’ she whispers, turning back.

  ‘Listen mate, I know it’s hard-,’ Rupert starts to say.

  ‘I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Svetla,’ I say, my heart about ready to burst.

  ‘Rupert, just let me handle this, okay. Go inside. Please,’ she says. He looks at me and shrugs, taking another spoonful of cereal. I watch him go, buoyed by this smallest of victories.

  ‘Let me get some shoes and we’ll go around the corner, okay?’ she says. I roll my eyes but say nothing. I’m not the sort of arsehole that makes people walk around with no shoes on, even if the person is my cheating whore of an ex.

  She reappears at the door and steps out, closing it behind her.

  ‘Let’s go,’ she says. I follow her as we walk away from the stupid blue house. Who paints their house blue anyway?

  ‘So?’ I say, after fifty yards.

  ‘Did Parker tell you?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter who told me, just tell me you weren’t screwing around with dealer boy there whilst you were still with me.’

  ‘He’s not a dealer. We just got up.’

  ‘Were you?’ I ask. We stop walking, she turns to face me.

  ‘Look Ollie-’

  ‘No. I want the truth.’

  ‘Yes. Okay, yes.’ Her words cut straight into me. I involuntarily step back, I think I might be sick. ‘We were miserable. Don’t you remember? We went days where you barely even acknowledged me.’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing, I sort of believed…hoped that this was some sort of misunderstanding. I know there was overwhelming evidence but even so. She looks at me, her worried expression almost passing for convincing. ‘I’m not excusing what I did,’ she says. ‘I should have just left but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you. You mean more to me than anyone. And leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m still not completely over it, even now.’ I pick up on that last part. She’s still not over me. Good. I hope you never are. ‘Should I have done it sooner? Yes. Should I have been fairer to you? Yes, I should. But there are two peop
le here. Two people that made mistakes. I’m willing to accept my part but you’ve got to accept yours.’

  ‘Yeah right. I didn’t fuck someone else though,’ I say. She looks down and sighs.

  ‘You want revenge? You want to hurt me? Say the things you want to say and go. Maybe we both need some finality here.’

  ‘Big word. Rupert teach you that?’ I say. She glares at me, then her eyes relax and she smiles.

  ‘Say what you want. I never stopped loving you. And you know what’s really sad about all this, what’s so pathetic on my part. I still do. I still bloody love you. Even after all the shit you put me through. What kind of a person does that?’ A tear rolls down her cheek, she brushes it away. I won’t let her get to me. She has questions to answer. But look at her. She’s beaten. What am I supposed to do now, carry on? Have her run off? Think of me as an even bigger arsehole. She’s right, I drove her away. I’ve got as far as admitting that to myself. Maybe I did deserve this.

  ‘I hate that you can still do this to me. It’s pathetic,’ she says. My breathing is calmer now, although my heart is thumping like it’s trying escape from my chest. I look at her. The girl I once loved. The girl I can’t let go. This one person who showed me everything I know about love and the meaning of being close to someone. Reduced to this. What a waste.

  ‘And Parker?’ I ask.

  ‘He kept telling me to tell you. I just couldn’t…find the moment. He said you’d find out, that I wasn’t being fair. He even threatened to tell you himself. I persuaded him not to. Just to let things be as they were. We were practically split up anyway. What was the point of making things worse?’

  I lean against a wall and look up at the sky. What a karzi.

  ‘So this Rupert guy. Do you love him?’

  ‘I don’t hate him. And I didn’t have a place to stay so…thought it made sense but…we’re quite different. He’s got a kid. Not sure I’m ready for all that. She’s such a little brat as well.’ I smile. We say nothing for a moment. A thought enters my mind, a stupid, immature question I mustn’t ask.

  ‘What about the sex?’ I ask. She looks up, confusion on her face.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ she asks.