Bad For Me

by J. B. Leigh

“Just a coke.”

  “Two cokes please,” he told the waiter.

  “You didn't have to have a soft drink.” I said. “You could have had something stronger. I don't mind.”

  “I don't drink,” JJ said.

  “Never?”

  He shook his head. It seemed we had something else in common. I remembered that he'd been drinking coke at Dandy's. No wonder he'd been so upset with Julie that night.

  “This place is expensive.” I couldn't believe the menu prices. I could have paid a week's rent for the price of one meal.

  “The food is excellent though.”

  “It had better be at these prices.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “You can cut the bullshit.”

  “Why do you find it impossible to accept a compliment?”

  He no doubt told every woman he’d ever dated that they were beautiful. I knew he didn't mean it, so I changed the subject.

  “I don't think Julie was very happy at being left out tonight.”

  “She'll get over it when I take her out on Monday.”

  “She asked if there was anything going on between us.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I said no, of course.”

  “So you lied?”

  “There isn’t.”

  “Of course there is. You can feel it just as much as I can.”

  “Feel what? You’re delusional.”

  I did feel it. I just didn’t know what ‘it’ was. I only knew I’d never felt like that before.

  “The difference between you and me, Megan, is that I’ve been honest about how I feel. For some reason, you've decided to pretend you don’t feel the same.”

  “You have no idea what I do or don’t feel.”

  “It's okay. I’m prepared to wait until you’re ready to admit to your feelings.”

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath. Anyway, what do you care what I feel? The great JJ doesn't do serious.”

  “What?”

  “That's what Julie told me. She said you 'don't do serious'.”

  JJ sat back in his seat, and stared at me. It was unnerving, and I wished he'd say something.

  “She's right,” he said after a few moments. “I didn't do serious.”

  At last, he had dropped the charade.

  “Until now.” He put his hand on mine. “Until I met you.”

  Just then, the waiter arrived with our starters.

  Despite all of my reservations, I actually enjoyed JJ's company. He was funny and never boring. He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. After we’d left the restaurant, he took my arm in his as we walked across the car park. I didn't object.

  “I've enjoyed tonight,” he said.

  I had my back to the passenger door. He was only inches away, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to, but I couldn't bring myself to reach out to him. He leaned forward—this was it—our lips were no more than a few inches apart.

  My phone rang.

  “Leave it!” he said.

  “I can't. It might be the hospital.”

  He stepped back, so I could take the phone from my bag.

  “Oh god. No! I'll be there as soon as I can.”

  Chapter 11

  I don't remember much about the funeral other than it rained and it was cold. The church was almost empty—just a few relatives, who I hadn't seen for years, and whose names I couldn't remember. Mum had had very few friends. I wondered if Dad might show up—he didn't. Billy spent the whole day crying on my shoulder. I'm not sure if I cried or not. Julie said she and JJ wanted to come, but I said they couldn't. Neither of them knew Mum. The vicar asked if I wanted to say a few words, but I declined. What would I have said? That she was never really a mother to me or Billy? That she preferred the company of a bottle to that of her own children?

  When I arrived back at the flat, Julie and JJ were waiting for me. I couldn't face being with anyone, so I walked by them, and shut myself into my bedroom. As I lay on the bed, I could hear their raised voices. Julie was telling JJ he should leave me alone. It was good advice, but he chose to ignore it.

  “Go away!” I shouted as soon as he walked into my bedroom.

  “Can I get you anything? A drink? Something to eat?”

  “Just leave me alone JJ.”

  “Okay. But if you want anything, even if you just want to talk. I'll be here.”

  “I don't want you here. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want you anywhere near me. I don't want to see you ever again.”

  “Megan...”

  “Just go JJ. If I hadn't been with you, I could have...”

  “There was nothing you could have done. The hospital said...”

  “Go! Just go!”

  ********************

  I didn’t tell Julie that I was leaving. If I'd said anything, she'd have tried to persuade me to stay. She'd have probably asked JJ to talk to me, and he was the last person I wanted to see. If I hadn’t gone to dinner with him, I'd have been there for Mum in her last few minutes. The guilt I felt for not being at her side when she passed away was overwhelming. I felt bad about abandoning Billy, but he had the house, and he had to learn to stand on his own two feet sooner or later.

  I packed as much as I could carry into one suitcase and a backpack, and left my keys on the coffee table. I thought about leaving a note for Julie, but I couldn’t find the words. I destroyed my SIM card, and bought a new pay-as-you-go one. I had no idea where I was going—I took a taxi to the railway station, and caught the first train out of there. I had some money—not much, but enough to keep me going for a few weeks until I found a job—any job. I hadn’t finished my course, but what did that matter? JJ was right—the course was a joke.

  ********************

  I took a train north, and then another train, and then a bus. I didn't know where exactly I was headed, but I thought I'd know it when I got there. In the end, it was my stomach which decided for me. About an hour into the bus journey, I realised I hadn't had anything to eat all day. I spotted the cafe when the bus pulled into Cromdale. At the time, I'd planned to get something to eat, and then catch the next bus. Except there wasn't a next bus, not until the next day. Marge—that was the name of the woman who owned and ran the cafe—gave me the telephone numbers of a few B&Bs, but none of them had any vacancies.

  “No luck?” Marge must have seen the look on my face.

  “They're all full.”

  “You've picked a bad time of year. It's our busy time—not that I'm complaining.”

  The cafe had been full all of the time I'd been in there. Marge seemed to be doing everything—taking the orders, cooking the food, and serving.

  “You seem to be run off your feet.”

  “Tell me about it. I would've been all right if Maxine hadn't fallen in love, and gone to France.”

  “Maxine?”

  “She worked for me until last week. Her new boyfriend decided they should spend the summer in France—picking fruit. I'm not sure she knows what she's signed up for. She never did like hard work.”

  “Are you looking for someone else?”

  “I will be when I find the time to write a card, and stick it in the window.”

  “I need a job.”

  “I really need someone who has experience.”

  “I've worked in a busy coffee shop. I wouldn't be much use with the cooking apart from fry-ups, but I could work behind the counter and serve.”

  “Do you have any references?”

  I'd left in such a hurry that I hadn't even told Sarah I was leaving. I wasn't going to get a reference from her, and besides, I didn't want anyone to know where I was.

  “Give me a trial. I'll work for two days for no pay. If you don't think I'm up to it—I'll go.”

  “I'm not sure. I usually insist on references.”

  “Please.”

  Marge smiled and nodded her head.

  “Okay, but just one day. If I say 'no', then y
ou leave. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “There's just one other thing,” I said. “Is there a room above the shop where I could get my head down tonight?”

  Luckily for me, there was a two bedroom flat above the cafe. Marge had her own house, but sometimes used the flat if she worked late or was too tired to drive home. She was a divorcee who lived alone—I guessed she must have been about the same age as my mum. Marge said that I could stay in the flat that night; she stayed too. I guess she didn't know me well enough to leave me there alone. We ate dinner together—she was a brilliant cook—she told me about her life and how she'd come to be running a cafe in Cromdale. She didn't ask me any questions about my background; I think she sensed I didn't want to talk about it.

  Although the cafe could get busy at times, it wasn't anywhere near as busy as I'd been used to in the coffee shop at weekends. At the end of my first day, Marge said I could have the job if I wanted it. She was a little nervous about paying me cash in hand, but in the end we came to an agreement which meant I could live in the flat, help myself to three meals a day, and then get a little cash at the end of the week. Marge said that if anyone asked, I should say I was her niece who was helping out for a while. I asked if she wanted me to call her Aunt, but she thought that might be taking it a bit far.

  Chapter 12

  Over the following months, I kept my head down, and tried to make a new life. Marge kept me busy during the day. By the time I clocked off, my feet were aching, and all I wanted to do was have a hot bath, and then read a book or watch junk TV. It was just as well because there was precious little to do in Cromdale.

  I had a lot of time to think. I often wondered if I should give Julie a call just to let her know I was okay. I shouldn't have walked out on her without a word or even a note. I thought about Billy too. How would he be coping without Mum to look after him? I just hoped he hadn't got himself thrown out of the house. He wasn't tough enough to live on the streets. Most of all, I thought about JJ. He'd been a bit of an arse when I'd first met him, but after my mum had been taken into hospital, he'd shown me nothing but kindness. He'd organised a placement for me, even though he obviously thought my course was a waste of time. He'd run me back and forth to the hospital. He'd even waited for me there—for hours at a time. So what terrible crime had he committed that I should have been so horrible to him? He'd taken me out for dinner. No one could have known Mum would die when she did. I'd said some terrible things to JJ. I'd been upset and angry, but that was no excuse. I wished there was some way I could apologise to him, but it was too late. He and Julie must have hated me for the way I'd left without a word. If I had made contact with either of them again, it would only have opened old wounds.

  It was my day off, but sad sack that I was, I was in Marge's cafe with Jennie. It seemed disloyal to get a coffee anywhere else. Jennie worked as a secretary for a small, local firm of solicitors. She was another regular at the cafe. We'd got talking one day, and a friendship had developed. Jenny was single and had her own place; a small, terraced house on the outskirts of the town. She'd just come out of yet another failed relationship. In her own words, Stephen—her ex—hadn't cheated on her; he'd bored her into submission. I'd been to her house a few times, and we'd had a few nights out.

  “I don't even know her,” I said. Jennie had just asked me to be her 'plus one' at her cousin's wedding.

  “It doesn't matter. I barely know Maureen, and she's my cousin. I've no idea why she invited me. I'm not sure I'd recognise her if she walked in here now.”

  “When is it?”

  “On Saturday.”

  “This Saturday? You've left it a bit late.”

  “No offence, Megan, but you weren't my first choice. When I was invited, I'd expected to be going with Stephen.”

  I'll have to ask Marge if I can take time off.”

  “If she’s okay with it, you'll come?”

  I nodded.

  “Why did she invite you if you never see each other?”

  “Tradition—according to my Mum. I told Mum—if I ever do get married, and that's a mighty big 'if'—I'm not going to invite anyone I don't know—relative or no.”

  “Why don't you say you can't make it?”

  “I couldn't stand the aggro I'd get from Mum.”

  “Won't they mind you turning up with me?”

  “Who else am I going to take? I'm not going by myself—I couldn't bear all the sympathetic looks. Besides, I'm hoping to cause a little scandal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I'm hoping they think that we're...”

  “What?”

  “You know.”

  “Bloody hell Jennie. You don't really expect me to pretend... ”

  “No. You don't have to do anything, but I'm sure someone will put two and two together and come up with five.”

  Marge had a bit of a moan, but in the end agreed I could have time off to go to the wedding.

  ********************

  “Did you see the bridesmaids' dresses?” Jennie whispered. We were at the reception. The wedding had been a washout—the rain had been relentless. I felt sorry for the bride.

  “Turquoise isn't a colour I would've chosen.” I was going for diplomacy.

  “Jennie!” A tall woman, with equally tall hair, put her hand on Jennie's shoulders. “Thank you for coming.”

  “”Hello, Auntie.”

  “Didn't Maureen look beautiful?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And the bridesmaids. I chose their dresses. Beautiful colour don't you think?”

  Jennie nodded. I could tell she was stifling a laugh. The woman, who I now realised was the bride's mother, didn't seem to notice.

  “And who is this?” The woman looked at me.

  “This is my friend Auntie. This is Megan.”

  “Oh? Right—very pleased to meet you Megan. I can't stop—have to circulate. Catch you later.”

  “Bye, Auntie,” Jennie called after her.

  “You're terrible,” I said.

  “What?”

  “You know what. You did that deliberately. Did you see the look of horror on her face?”

  “I don't know what you mean.” Jennie laughed.

  “Smile!”

  The bride's mother had insisted that all the guests appear on a group photograph. There had barely been enough room to get everyone on. I tried to duck out, but I couldn't escape; I was forced to squeeze on at one end of the group.

  Chapter 13

  “He keeps looking at you,” Marge said.

  “Don't be daft.”

  I knew she was right. This was the third morning running that he'd come into the cafe for his breakfast. Every time I'd glanced over at him, he seemed to be staring at me.

  “He's a good-looking guy,” Marge said a little too loudly for my liking.

  “I'm not interested in men,” I reminded her.

  She gave a little snigger.

  “Of course you are. You just haven't found the right one yet. Here—go take him his bill.”

  “Can't you?”

  “Go!” Marge pressed the bill into my hand.

  “Was everything all right for you sir?” I knew it was—Marge's breakfasts were legendary.

  “Yes, thanks. I wish you wouldn't call me sir though. It makes me feel ancient. I'm Mike.”

  I passed him the bill.

  “And you are...?”

  “Megan.”

  “I'm working down here for four weeks. I'm staying at the Royal Oak”

  I knew he was making small talk, but I didn't know where that might lead, so I just smiled.

  “So?” Marge pounced on me as soon as I was back behind the counter.

  “What?”

  “What did he say? Who is he?”

  “He said you made a great breakfast.”

  “I like him already.” She laughed.

  “He's working down here on a contract for four weeks.”

  “Did he ask you out?”
<
br />   “Of course he didn't.”

  “Did you ask him out?”

  “Shut up.”

  ********************

  “Morning, Megan,” Mike said. He was later than usual the next morning.

  “Morning. Your usual?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Marge gave me a knowing smile as she handed Mike's breakfast to me. I ignored her.

  “Thanks.” Mike said. “Megan. Hold on a minute. It's pretty boring being stuck in the B&B every night. I wondered if you might like to go out for a drink tonight.”

  “I don't drink. Sorry.”

  “Something to eat then?”

  “I can't. I'm sorry.”

  “It's my birthday.”

  Was it a line? I wasn't sure.

  “I'm busy.”

  “It's just that I don't know anyone else down here. Please... ”

  “I'll think about it.”

  “Go on,” Marge said. “You need to get out of the flat. What harm can it do?”

  “I don't think it would be a good idea. How do I know it's his birthday?”

  “Does it matter either way? He seems a nice enough guy. Go on Megan—let your hair down for once.”

  “Have you thought about it?” Mike asked when I collected his plate.

  “Okay, but just a meal though. I can't stay out late.”

  “Great.”

  As soon as I'd agreed, I regretted it. I kept thinking about the last time someone took me out for a meal, and I found myself wondering what JJ was doing.

  “My Rolls is in the garage,” Mike said as he pushed open the passenger door to his van. “I cleaned the seat for you.”

  Tools rattled in the back of the van as we drove out of town. The floor of the van was littered with receipts and other papers. I was glad I'd gone for casual—I would've looked out of place in anything else.

  Once we'd arrived at the restaurant, I soon put the nightmare van ride out of my head. Mike was good company. He was funny—without trying. It felt good to laugh again.