No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel

by Tracy Bloom

  Katy chose that moment to let out her next yowl. Daniel held the phone up to her mouth again so that the full force of her contraction could be heard.

  “Does that sound anything like a woman who is in the right place? She sounds like someone who is in as wrong a place as anyone could be. That is just not normal.”

  “Sir, I promise you, it is normal and you will help your friend the most by keeping her where she is and nice and calm. Now call us again when the contractions are five minutes apart or when she thinks her waters have broken fully.”

  Daniel stared at the phone.

  “Fuck you,” he shouted before slamming it down.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, shaking slightly.

  “I can do this. This is easy. I have achieved great things with my life. I can get through this. Daniel, this is easy,” he said to himself before taking a few deep breaths and turning around to face Katy with a large fixed smile on his face.

  “Fancy a cocktail?” he offered.

  “No, I’m pregnant you idiot, I can’t drink.”

  “Mind if I have one?”

  “Daniel, this is about me, not you. Being my labour partner is about you forgetting what you need and being there for whatever I need.”

  “It’s just that you usually say I’m more fun when I have had a few. Thought I might cheer you up more if I had a drink.”

  “Daniel, you do have to drive me to the hospital later.”

  “Good point,” sighed Daniel.

  Katy shifted her body.

  “Don’t move too quickly, it may start you off again.”

  “I’m fine; my back was just hurting a bit.”

  They both stared at the wall for a while.

  “You can talk to me you know. Labour doesn’t make you deaf or mute,” said Katy.

  “Sorry. I’m just holding my breath waiting for the next contraction thingy.”

  “They seem to have gone off a bit.”

  “Right, right. So what do we do when that happens?” asked Daniel

  “We just wait I guess.”

  “For what?”

  “For them to start up again.”

  “OK, so we just sit and wait. I can do that. That’s fine. We will sit here and chill.”

  Both of them fell into silence again.

  “For god’s sake,” hissed Katy. “There’s a bottle of brandy in the kitchen cupboard. A small one each shouldn’t do us any harm.”

  “Wise, very wise. Good for the circulation. I will be back shortly,” said Daniel scuttling off.

  Daniel returned and they both sat sipping their drinks deep in thought. The contractions seemed to have stopped completely for the time being.

  “So, are you going to tell me why I am sitting here being your not very good labour partner rather than one of the two possible fathers?”

  “Do I have to?” asked Katy, not sure if she had the energy.

  “Well yes I think you do, seeing as you are putting me through this. I need to know I’m doing it for good reason.”

  She reached over to grip his hand before she swallowed hard and prayed her contractions would give her respite for just a little longer.

  “It’s over with Ben,” she said, breathing heavily and increasing the grip on Daniel’s hand.

  “How come?” he managed to utter, despite the pain he was in.

  “He knows everything,” she said. “Now he’s gone for good and I hate myself.” She released Daniel’s hand and rolled over onto her side to let the silent tears fall unobserved. Daniel shook his hand vigorously to try and restore some sense of circulation.

  “Then Matthew came and he kissed me,” she muttered, barely audible.

  Daniel leapt up and ran around the bed, throwing himself onto the bed next to her and thrusting his face right into hers.

  “You are kidding me?” he said.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head slowly, tears dripping off the end of her nose.

  “What did you do?” asked Daniel, almost bouncing up and down on the bed with the excitement of the drama.

  “Kicked him out.”

  “Come on,” he said, punching the air. “Serve the toe rag right, what an utter slut.”

  Katy thrust her head in her pillow and wailed.

  “Not you, him,” said Daniel. When she refused to look at him he lay down next to her and pulled her towards him.

  “I am a slut,” she cried into his shoulder.

  “No Katy. You’re not. One night of unfortunate sex does not make you a slut,” replied Daniel. “Believe me, I know a slut when I see one.”

  Eventually the tears subsided and Daniel heard a faint snore. He heaved a huge sigh of relief and gently laid her back down against her pillow. He picked up the bottle of brandy and his glass and left the room.

  He went to the kitchen and shut himself in before guiltily pouring himself a very large drink. He downed it in one before pouring another one, this time taking his time over the amber liquid, deep in thought. After maybe half an hour he made a decision. He got up a little unsteadily and started to systematically search the flat until he eventually found Katy’s phone under a chair in the living room. He returned to the kitchen, shutting himself in again and started to scroll through her numbers until he found Ben’s.

  He pressed the call button and tried to steady his rapidly beating heart.

  “Just calm down Daniel,” he said to himself. “It’s not like you are calling to ask him out.” He shuddered at the image of him and football nut Ben as a couple.

  The phone seemed to ring endlessly until finally going through to voicemail. He left a fairly abusive message telling Ben that if he didn’t call back within the next five minutes he would personally nominate him for “Perfect Partners” in next month’s bestselling Leeds gay magazine.

  He sat there drumming his fingers, willing the phone to ring. At five minutes on the dot he picked the phone up again and started to scroll down Katy’s phone book.

  First he looked to see if “Ben’s Mum” came up or even “Ben’s Dad.” Nothing. He racked his brains trying to remember if Katy had ever mentioned a brother or a sister as he kept scrolling, desperate for some inspiration. He got all the way through the list without finding anything. He started again, praying he might have missed something, and stopped as a name caught his eye.

  “Braindead.”

  Either Katy had a particular dislike of one of her clients or this had to be a friend of Ben’s. His thumb hovered over the call button. Worth the risk he thought. He took another swig of brandy and pressed down hard.

  After a couple of rings someone picked up.

  Chapter 20

  “I’m havin’ a piss, hold on,” came a voice at the other end of the phone, followed by the unmistakable tinkle of urine falling at speed into a tin urinal.

  “Sorry about that, who is it?”

  “It’s Daniel here. I am a friend of Katy’s. Ben knows me and I need to speak to him urgently. Are you with him?”

  “Who?”

  “Daniel. I know Katy and Ben. I need to speak to Ben. Do you know where he is?”

  “He’s sitting here. What you calling me for?”

  “Because I can’t get through to him.”

  “I can give you his mobile number. Call him tomorrow though ’cause he’s shit-faced.”

  “No wait, it’s urgent, I need to talk to him now. His girlfriend is in labour.”

  “What? Hang on a minute,” said Braindead. “Shut the fuck up will ya. I’m trying to be Ben’s secretary and I can’t hear what this posh bloke is saying,” Daniel heard Braindead shout.

  “Say again?”

  “I said it’s imperative I speak to Ben now, about Katy?

  “And how would you be spelling that?”

  “Look it doesn’t matter. Just let me speak to Ben.”

  “Well you see I would, but he’s kind of in mourning like. Mourning of the getting utterly hammered variety owing to Katy totally throwing him over a bridge this m
orning.”

  “I know that but I need to speak to him, it’s urgent.”

  “Well I’ll try. What did you say your name was?”

  “Daniel.”

  “Oi, Ben. Some bloke called Daniel needs to speak to you about Katy.”

  “Tell the gay bastard to fuck off,” Daniel heard in the distance at the other end of the line.

  “He said, tell the gay bastard to fuck off. No offence like mate. He doesn’t actually think you are gay, he’s just saying that because he’s pissed.”

  “That’s charming. Just tell him that Katy has gone into labour will you?”

  “He says Katy’s in labour.”

  “Katy who? I don’t give a fuck.”

  “Did you hear that?” Braindead asked Daniel.

  “Look I know what Katy did was wrong and she feels terrible believe me, but she needs him right now to compartmentalise his anger and be with her.”

  “You want me to tell him that?”

  “Yes.”

  “This bloke says you need to compost your anger and be with her.”

  “Tell the gay twat that none of his advertising bullshit is going to work now.”

  “I assume you heard that. Again don’t take offence at the gay thing; he calls everyone gay when he’s pissed.”

  “He is gay, you idiot,” Ben bellowed in the background.

  “No, is he? Are you?” asked Braindead.

  “Yes, but it is not exactly relevant at this moment is it?”

  “It is if someone is calling you a gay twat when you are not. But now I know you are that’s fine.”

  “Thank you, I think. Anyway, look you have to help me. We have to get Ben back here to be with Katy at the birth. She wants him I know she does. You have to help me persuade him. He’ll regret it for the rest of his life if he’s not there.”

  “Why?” asked Braindead.

  “Because… because of course he will. Because what if it really is his child and he misses the birth because he’s out getting pissed.”

  “Ah but what if it isn’t? As he has actually been saying all day. What if it isn’t? What if he spends hours with a wailing woman for nothing, only to see someone else’s baby born? Man, there is no way I would do that, would you?”

  “But, but, but it still could be his,” said Daniel, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He took another swig of brandy, this time straight from the bottle.

  Come on Daniel, he said to himself. I do this all the time, this is my job. I have to sell people thoughts, ideas, images. I have to convince them that my opinion as a Creative Director is always right. I do this every day. Come on, think.

  “Look Braindead. Tell him to imagine this tiny helpless pink little bundle has just arrived in the world looking for its father. Crying desperately because there is no-one there to hold him.”

  “You want me to tell him that?”

  “Yes, go on, you can do it.”

  “Right, he’s now saying it will be small and pink and wanting its dad and you won’t be there.”

  “Tell him to call its other bloody dad then.”

  “Don’t think that was the right thing to say somehow?” said Braindead to Daniel.

  “OK, just bear with me. Tell him to imagine a beautiful little girl who sings like an angel and dances like a butterfly and makes him so proud it makes him want to cry. Can he really walk away from that?”

  “Are you sure you want me to tell him that?”

  “Yep, go on and a bit more emotion this time?”

  “Emotion? What, you want me to cry?”

  “If you can, great.”

  “Who is this guy?” Braindead said to Ben. “Anyway he says you’d be proud because she’s like an angel and a butterfly.”

  “No, no, no,” said Daniel. “I said she sings like an angel and dances like a butterfly.”

  “Look, I’m trying mate but you’re not really selling it are you. Have you ever met Ben? Angels and butterflies are not really his thing. Yours maybe, but not our Ben.”

  “Right, right, yes you’re right. Not his thing. I am not thinking who my consumer is. Always bring it back to the consumer. I’m forgetting my fundamentals.”

  “Look mate I’m sorry, you probably mean well but I don’t think this is really doing any good is it?”

  “No, don’t hang up. Give me one more shot. Just hang on. I am thinking Ben now. What would it take? Come on, it’s coming, it’s coming. Got it. Are you ready Braindead?”

  “Come on then but that’s it, no more after this.”

  “Imagine in a few hours’ time the next great England striker could be born here in Leeds. Ben’s son playing for England. And how would Ben cope whenever he watched his son play in a match, knowing that he didn’t even bother to turn up at his debut appearance. Now he might not be Ben’s son and he might not play for England but then again he might and isn’t might enough?”

  Braindead was silent at the end of the phone.

  “Did you get that? Do you want me to say it again?” asked Daniel.

  The next thing Daniel heard was Braindead literally shouting at Ben.

  “Get your arse out of this pub and back to Katy. This might be your son coming and he might play for England one day and I want you to get me tickets if that happens. So stop worrying about what he might not be and start worrying about what he might be and get yourself back there.”

  “Come on Braindead, that’s brilliant. I really like the shouting bit. Keep going,” urged Daniel.

  “Keep going, I don’t know what else to say.”

  “You’re doing great. Just tell him what you really think. Go on, speak from the heart, you know him best.”

  “Right. OK,” said Braindead. There was a short silence before he spoke again. “And Ben, listen. Katy’s ace.”

  “Beautiful, concise, to the point, wonderfully executed. Well done Braindead,” said Daniel raising his fist in victory.

  “Is she really in labour?” suddenly Ben’s voice came to the phone.

  “Well if she’s not she sure is doing a good impression. Look Ben, she knows what she did was wrong and she’s feels awful but you have to get here and see this. Don’t walk away now. Maybe later if you can’t work it out but not now. Not now you have got this far. She needs you. The baby needs you.”

  “I’m in Edinburgh.”

  “What?”

  “In Edinburgh. Me and Braindead decided to throw a sickie and get up here early for a stag-do because I just couldn’t face anything.”

  “OK, keep calm. This is a minor blip we can overcome. Think Daniel, think. Right I don’t think you’ll get a flight this late so I’m just checking on my Blackberry for train times. Give me a sec. OK, there’s a train at 12.30am and it gets into Leeds at…… just hang on. Jesus Christ, are you coming from the moon, it doesn’t get you in until 8.30am. Right put Braindead back on.”

  “Yep.”

  “Right I need you to listen carefully. You need to ask the barman to call a taxi firm and ask them if they’ll drive you and Ben back to Leeds tonight. You have half an hour to try and get someone to drive you but if no-one will you need to get to the station and catch the 12.30am train. Have you got that?”

  “Yeah, why me and Ben?”

  “Because you need to get the father of the next England Striker back here to see his baby born.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Now, don’t worry about the cost. We’ll sort that out when you get here. Just get back as quick as you can by whatever means. Call me when you are in a taxi or on the train OK?”

  “Got it Danno.”

  “It’s Daniel.”

  “Yeah but I was being, you know, concise and to the point.”

  “Just get him here and you can call me whatever you like.”

  “What even something like Puff the Magic Danno?”

  “Only if you’re here in less than five hours.”

  “Well now you’ve laid down the challenge, we’ll see you in four.”

&n
bsp; Chapter 21

  7.12am

  “I can’t believe you,” Katy said to Daniel through gritted teeth as she sat on a chair in the hall, her discomfort clearly visible via the white knuckles wrapped around the wooden arms.

  “Shush, please don’t talk too loud,” said Daniel, who was slumped on the floor, his head resting on Katy’s hospital bag.

  “Do you not think that I’m coping with enough without you having the mother of all hangovers?” said Katy, kicking the bag from under Daniel causing him to bang his head on the floor.

  “Ow,” he yelled, pulling himself up and rubbing his head. “Was that necessary? Do you really think I could get through an entire night of you screeching and wailing without some medicinal aid? It’s hardly my fault that the only thing you had in the house was cheap brandy. And I’m telling you, when I see those bitches who answer the phone at the labour ward, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind. What do you have to do to make them understand that we had a crisis going on here and needed to be in hospital?”

  “It wasn’t a crisis. Women go into labour every day,” said Katy, looking nervously at her watch.

  “Not with me they don’t. I even told them if they didn’t help me I was a suicide risk, but they just laughed and told me to pull myself together.”

  “Just go and take some paracetamol and while you’re at it bring me some,” said Katy, sensing pain rapidly approaching.

  “Paracetamol? I’m not really thinking suicide Katy. You and the world need me,” said Daniel sincerely.

  “For your hangover you idiot,” said Katy. “And for the torture I am going through. Go on quick; the taxi should be here any minute.”

  7.30am

  “Daniel, get out here now,” shouted Katy. “The taxi is here.”

  “After you, you lovely, charming lady,” said Daniel as he emerged from the bathroom.

  “Bag. Carry. You,” said Katy before she took a deep breath and started her painful descent down the stairs.

  “So you think you’ll be in hospital a long time then?” Daniel asked from behind her.

  “Hope not, why?” she puffed.

  “This bag is bloody heavy. What the hell have you got in it?”