It's Not You, It's Them

by Portia MacIntosh

  I pull a face at her.

  ‘I know you’re engaged,’ she laughs. ‘Don’t give me that face. Do take your ring off, though.’

  I protectively place my other hand over my engagement ring, holding it close to my chest.

  ‘It’s a cock-block,’ Kerry informs me. ‘If you take it off, they’ll pay for our drinks all night.’

  ‘You don’t need them to pay for your drinks; your parents own the bar,’ I remind her.

  ‘If they realise that, I’ll wind up paying for their drinks all night. Come on, off with it.’

  I do as I’m told, placing my ring carefully inside my purse, making sure to tuck it deep inside so it can’t fall out.

  ‘OK, let’s go downstairs.’

  This is my third visit to the pub, but it’s the first time I’ve actually seen people in it that weren’t part of the extended family. It’s nice, even though it’s just a bunch of soldiers in here. They’re all dressed the same, in green camouflage combat and tight green T-shirts – I think I saw a similar outfit hanging on Kerry’s wardrobe; I should have put that on instead of this microscopic dress. It probably would’ve matched my walking boots a lot better.

  ‘Fuck me, I’m in heaven,’ Kerry says under her breath, before calling out to everyone in the room: ‘Hello, boys, fancy some company?’

  ***

  ‘Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty,’ Curtis grunts as he does push-ups on the floor of the pub – with me sitting on his back.

  To impress Kerry and me, our army boys have been having a push-up competition, taking it in turns to better the previous person’s efforts. Curtis has just managed to do fifty push-ups with me sitting on his back, which was easy for him, and like a cross between a Blackpool donkey and a really easy bucking bronco for me. Curtis is exactly how you’d imagine someone in the army to look; from his big, strapping body to his buzz cut, he ticks all the boxes.

  Kerry currently has a small group of the boys captivated, because she’s playing Shag, Marry, Kill – to their faces. The guys are taking it in turns to line up in front of her in groups of three, and she’s just announcing her decision to them, like it’s no big deal.

  ‘What about you then?’ Curtis asks me. ‘Would you shag, marry or kill me?’

  ‘I couldn’t do any, sorry,’ I laugh.

  ‘I mean that’s good as far as you killing me goes,’ he laughs. ‘It would be a waste of my training if I could be bumped off by the first pretty face to bat her eyelashes at me.’

  While Kerry has been working the room, giving equal attention to each of the gentlemen here, I have been chatting to Curtis all evening. He sounds way more northern than Mark does; in fact, he makes Mark’s accent seem almost non-existent. He’s got that cheeky chappy charm about him, the kind that I’ll bet makes him popular with the ladies. Single Roxie would probably go weak at the knees for a guy like Curtis.

  ‘Is that how you got that scar?’ I ask him, brushing my fingertips gently across the scar on his neck. I probably shouldn’t be touching a perfect stranger, least of all on his scars, but with every drink Kerry places in my hands, my confidence grows and my common sense flies out the window. ‘In the field?’

  ‘Sort of,’ he laughs. ‘Wakefield. Some girl’s boyfriend was getting a bit heavy-handed with her outside a nightclub. I stepped in, he smashed his beer bottle and tried to slit my throat with it.’

  ‘Holy shit,’ I reply, forgetting my manners. ‘I think that’s just as heroic.’

  ‘I’m glad you do, because my mum said I was a fucking idiot,’ he laughs.

  ‘Is that where you’re from?’

  ‘Wakey? Yes. Stationed near York at the moment. We’ll be finding a way back there over the next couple of days. There are clear roads, it’s just trekking to them. So, come on then; we’ve established you can’t kill me, but why are you so quick to rule out the other two?’

  ‘I’m engaged,’ I tell him honestly. ‘I think.’

  ‘Ah, so that’s why you didn’t throw yourself at me after the push-ups,’ he jokes. ‘Well, congratulations – I think,’ he says, mirroring my wording.

  ‘We had an argument,’ I start. ‘Sorry, you don’t want to hear this, do you?’

  ‘Well, I was told there was going to be some kind of disco, but it’s not starting for another thirty minutes. Plus, I’m supposed to protect and serve, and I feel like you need looking after right now.’

  I know he’s kidding around but, my God, it’s so nice to hear those words.

  ‘I thought “protect and serve” was the LAPD, not the army,’ I remind him.

  ‘Hey, I’m trying to be the bigger person here,’ he laughs. ‘Come on, talk to me.’

  Curtis and I move to a quieter corner of the room, away from the competitive exercise and Kerry making her ‘to do’ list. My plan wasn’t to tell him everything that has happened over the past few days, but it’s all just flowing out of me. Because he’s nothing to do with the family, and because he is a handsome dude who is flirting with me, my confidence has come flooding back. And even if I’m wearing a Tammy Girl dress that was designed with a thirteen-year-old’s body in mind, with my face covered in war paint (read: lots of glitter) and my hair sleek and straight, I feel like a million pounds.

  ‘That’s out of order,’ Curtis says once I’m done telling my tale. ‘It’s bad enough that his ex is around, but he shouldn’t be locking himself in cupboards, having heart to hearts with her. Thing is, even if he knows he’d never go there again, and that you can trust him one hundred per cent, he should be considering how these things make you feel.’

  Before we left, Kerry sat down with Mark and had a word with him. She assured me that, once I’d spoken to him, I’d feel better about so many things, but that I needed to calm down and unwind first so I’d be willing to listen. That’s why she’s brought me out to have some fun, and why she’s told Mark to swap beds with her for the night. So Kerry and I will be sharing the study, while Mark will be on the sofa – which, to be fair, is probably much more comfortable than a broken pop-up bed anyway.

  ‘That’s why I’m not much fun tonight – I’m sorry,’ I tell him.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he replies sounding sincere. ‘You’re loads of fun. Anyway, the disco is about to start. So why don’t I get you another drink while you figure out if you can dance in those boots or not.’

  ‘OK, sure,’ I reply with a big smile.

  I feel like I’m being unfaithful to Mark, just by being here, having fun with this man. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong, or leading him on in any way. And it’s not like I have a history with him. I’m just having a drink with a nice guy. So long as I don’t get into a wardrobe with him, Mark can’t say anything, can he?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As drunk as I am, Kerry is drunker. Worse still, we forgot to take torches with us, so we’ve just had to make the journey back in the dark.

  Luckily, as we have walked through the front door, we’ve realised that someone has left two torches for us.

  ‘Wooo,’ Kerry says, up-lighting her face as she makes ghostly noises.

  ‘Shh,’ I tell her, laughing uncontrollably. ‘Don’t wake anyone up.’

  ‘I won’t, I won’t,’ she replies as we make our way towards the study. ‘Unless you want me to go fuck Bea-atch up?’

  ‘Maybe in the morning,’ I laugh.

  The second we step foot in the study, Kerry flings herself down onto the bed and falls immediately asleep. I wish I could do the same, but I’m so annoyed. Curtis and his buddies were all so nice to me this evening. We drank, we danced, we shared stories and we discussed our problems. No one expected anything from anyone, and everyone had so much fun. See, it’s not hard, is it? So why is it, since I came here, everyone has been so horrible to me?

  I run my hands through my silky smooth lob and sigh, so grateful to have my usual hair-do back.

  Maybe it’s because I’m a bit drunk, but my legs are so restless they feel like they’re buzzing.
There’s no way I can get into bed like this, but unless I go sit on the loo, where else can I go?

  Plonking myself down in Oscar’s desk chair, I open my laptop. It’s frustrating, to see it spring to life, with a power cable and an internet cable poking out of the sides, but neither working while the power is still off. Still, my trusty laptop still has charge, so I could write my article. The one Kath told me to write. The one all about the Wright family – well, I do have a lot to say.

  The program we use for writing articles is still open, but without an internet connection it’s essentially useless. However, with nothing better to do, and an abundance of stress to get rid of, I decide to write the article. I’m not writing it to submit it, I’m just writing it to get these feelings out of me and onto the screen. In my head everything feels all muddled and messy but, maybe if I see it on the screen, I can make sense of it.

  ‘First comes love, then comes family,’ I say to myself, as I type my opening sentence.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When I woke up this morning, for a second, I forgot everything that has gone on. For a start, the fact that Kerry was spooning me from behind made me temporarily forget that my fiancé is not in the same bed as me right now. But as my brain woke up and my hangover set in, so did reality.

  Well, I say when I woke up this morning, but it was actually midday when finally I opened my eyes. With Kerry still flat out, I snuck off to the bathroom and sorted out my make-up and hair. I still have my teenage-girl dress on, so I slip my heels on, too. Because I need to talk to Mark, and he’s not going to get the scared, self-conscious, family-friendly Roxie he’s had all week; he’s going to get the happy, stylish, confident Roxie he fell in love with.

  I stick my head in the kitchen, expecting to see at least a handful of faces, but no one is there. The distinct smell of bacon is filling the air, which would make me feel queasy at the best of times, but it’s much worse now I know that all their pork products are literally their neighbours.

  I hazard a guess that everyone is in the dining room, and I’m right. The whole family is around the table, all busy, either serving, eating or drinking.

  ‘Hi,’ Mark says when he sees me. I don’t know if he’s done it on purpose, but he’s sitting as far away from Bea as is physically possible.

  ‘Hi,’ I reply. ‘Can we talk?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘But your lunch,’ his mum protests.

  ‘I’ll have it after,’ he tells her, pushing his chair out before heading towards me. ‘Shall we talk in the family room? No one is in there.’

  ‘OK,’ I reply. I hate how awkward things are, but as soon we start talking, we’ll figure everything out.

  I’m just about to walk through the door when Kerry emerges, blocking my way, with a very angry look plastered across her face.

  ‘I feel the same way,’ I giggle, referring to her hangover, but she doesn’t laugh.

  Kerry holds up a piece of paper in front of my face.

  ‘What’s that?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s your latest article,’ she replies. ‘I woke up, saw that the power was back on, and that your laptop was open. I thought I’d look on Facebook, see if any of our fit soldiers friend requested me like I told them to…’

  ‘What’s this about soldiers?’ Oscar asks, suddenly interested.

  ‘Yeah,’ Mark joins in. ‘You know soldiers?’

  ‘We met a bunch at the pub last night,’ Kerry tells him. ‘Anyway, so something was open, and I wasn’t snooping, but certain names just stood out on the screen – the names of members of my family. Then I saw that it said published above it, so I checked the website and there it was. So I printed it.’

  My brain is too tired and hungover for this. I haven’t submitted an article for publication, let alone one about the Wrights. I wrote that one last night, but I only did it to let off some steam; I didn’t submit it.

  ‘What does it say?’ Val asks.

  ‘I’ll read it,’ Kerry insists. ‘Everyone get comfortable, because, I swear, there’s got to be so much fiction in this.’

  What could I have possibly written and published that would make her so mad?

  ‘Read it to us,’ Valerie insists.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ I reply, worried what I might have said when I thought no one else would ever read it.

  ‘Roxie, what have you done?’ Mark asks me under his breath.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I reply. ‘I have no idea which article she’s referring to.’

  ‘It’s called “It’s not you, it’s them”.’

  Did I write that? I definitely don’t remember writing anything along those lines.

  ‘“First comes love, then comes family”,’ Kerry starts, pausing to glance over at me.

  Hang on minute – those are the words I wrote last night. But that wasn’t my article, that was just me letting off steam. I’m a writer; sometimes it makes you feel better to just write. It was never supposed to be published, and I certainly didn’t pull the trigger. The power was still out when I finished writing it, so there’s no way I could’ve submitted it.

  ‘“When my wonderful boyfriend popped the question, I thought: this is it, my dreams have come true, I’ll never be unhappy again. I would look to the future, and whether it was a day, a month or ten years, I couldn’t imagine my future without him in it. But then I met his family.”’

  As Kerry reads aloud, my own words sound both alien to me, and yet so familiar. I remember each thing I wrote a split second before Kerry reads it out.

  ‘“At first I found it comforting, that such a close-knit family existed, until I realised close-knit meant they were never going to be willing to give me a chance. They didn’t want to let me in. And by the end of my time with them, I realised something: I don’t want letting in. These people don’t love each other; they lie to each other, they manipulate each other, they’re willing to screw each other over to get their own way, and that’s not a name or an attitude I want to take on. Wondering why they’re so weird? Well, first of all, as great as his dad is, he’s definitely a closeted homosexual.”’

  ‘Oh, my God,’ I mutter to myself quietly.

  I look up to see that everyone in the room has widened their eyes.

  ‘Uncle Oscar, she thinks you’re gay,’ Kerry laughs. ‘Want to know why? “I try not to judge, but when I described him to my gay bestie, he found Daddy to be guilty of fancying dudes. Exhibit A: his exceptional taste and style. Exhibit B: his finely tuned gaydar. However, this is all circumstantial. The smoking gun came in the form of exhibit C: the gay porn he hides in his office.”’

  Everyone is staring at Oscar, waiting to see what he has to say. I just want the ground to swallow me up. I don’t care if he’s gay; he’s probably the nicest person in this house after Mark and Kerry. It’s just the fact that he’s trying to hide it, and let me take the fall for that magazine in his office.

  ‘I never thought I would have to say this,’ Oscar starts, ready to roll out his denial speech no doubt. ‘I’m bisexual.’

  ‘What?’ Millie blurts out. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since always,’ Valerie replies. ‘I’ve always known. We met, we fell in love, we got married and we’ve remained faithful to one another – that’s all that matters.’

  ‘Oscar, you can’t be gay,’ Alex says, kind of hysterically.

  ‘Are you telling me you’ve never once looked at a man and wanted to feel his body on yours?’ Oscar asks wistfully.

  ‘Never,’ Alex replies confidently.

  Mark looks at me, and I can tell he’s not impressed with the can of worms I’ve opened.

  ‘I’m definitely going to keep reading now,’ Kerry tells us, taking a seat at the table, making herself more comfortable. ‘“Daddy might be keeping this little secret from everyone, but it’s nothing compared to the lying that’s going on between his sister and her husband. On the surface, they seem like such a sickly sweet, picture-perfect couple – but I’ve
heard what they get up to when they think no one is listening... He’s having an affair with her little sister, sneaking off with her when the family think they’re both off doing other things, but his wife is just as bad, sneaking off to have phone sex at any opportunity she gets.” Holy shit, is this true?’ Kerry asks me. I shrug my shoulders.

  ‘You’re doing what?’ Alex bellows at Millie.

  ‘I’m not doing anything – what are you doing?’

  He looks over at me angrily.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re forcing our hands like this,’ he replies. ‘I’m not having an affair with Mel, I’ve just been helping her with some things.’

  ‘Like what, her sexual health?’ Ste asks angrily.

  ‘Shut up, Ste,’ he snaps. ‘Millie, who have you been calling?’

  Millie leans forward, placing her head in her hands.

  ‘I wanted to earn some money and it seemed like the only way,’ she sobs. ‘I wanted to surprise you with a second honeymoon – and pay for it myself – give us some time alone. We’ve been talking about having another baby, so what better place to start trying than on holiday? I wanted to make my own money, to give you a surprise you didn’t need to pay for yourself. Obviously I was looking at work from home job listings because the girls need me around, and this job sounded perfect – I was already in too deep by the time I realised it was working for a phone sex line. I didn’t know where else I was going to find a job I could do from home…’

  Alex grabs her and hugs her, but she remains rigid in his embrace.

  ‘I’m so sorry you felt you had to do that, but we’ll figure this out. I promise.’

  I feel like such a bitch right now.

  ‘Maybe you should stop,’ I suggest to Kerry. ‘I’m obviously getting the wrong end of the stick.’

  ‘She might as well keep reading then,’ Valerie chirps. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take it with a pinch of salt.’