by Tracy Bloom
“I’m not absolutely sure. He might not be but … but,” mumbled Charlie.
“Charlie,” said Suzie sharply. “I can absolutely guarantee he is.”
“But I don’t really know for definite, I could be wrong.”
“Charlie, listen to me,” said Suzie leaning forward enthusiastically on her stool. They were on her territory now. “He is. And do you know why? Because we are programmed to think the best in this situation. We see all the signs as clear as day and still we think we must be wrong because the alternative is too hard to bear.”
“But how can you be so sure?” asked Charlie.
“Answer me these questions,” said Suzie warming up. “Do you find him in odd rooms in the house, behind shut doors talking on the telephone?” she asked.
“Err, yes.”
“Does he suddenly end calls when you enter a room?”
“Occasionally yes.”
“Does he go away for the night and claim that you can’t call him because there is no phone reception.”
“Yes he does.”
“When he talks about a certain woman does his tone change or does he pause slightly before he mentions her name?”
Charlie bit her lip and nodded allowing fresh tears to spill.
“Has he suddenly started deleting all his text messages as soon as he’s read them?”
Charlie nodded silently.
“And do you know this because you sneak down in the middle of the night to check the messages on his phone because you’re so desperate to find out for certain if he is playing away?”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “How do you know that?”
Suzie paused wondering if the clearly distraught Charlie needed to know the answer to that question.
“Because it’s what I used to do when I suspected he was sleeping with you,” she said quietly. “I think it’s what every woman does when they’re trying desperately to find the evidence to prove their suspicions wrong.”
“I’m so sorry,” sobbed Charlie. “I’m so sorry we did that to you.”
Suzie said nothing.
“You must think I’m getting everything I deserve,” said Charlie.
“No actually, no I don’t,” said Suzie eventually. “Antony is the one who’s attached not you. He’s at fault here.”
“What am I going to do?” said Charlie. “I really don’t know what to do?”
Suzie remembered why she was there. To make Antony feel how she had felt all those years ago. To feel like the future you had banked on had been ripped from under you. What better way to do that than through Charlie? This was her time. Charlie had the chance to react to Antony’s infidelity in a way that Suzie wished she’d had all those years ago. Rather than walking away quietly and licking her wounds for months on end she could do what needed to be done and teach Antony a lesson. This could be fantastic.
“Charlie,” she said tentatively, worried that she might not let her get involved. “If you let me I will help you. I’ll help you stop feeling like this and get back in control. I told you about my column didn’t I? This is what I do. I help women who have problems with their men.”
“But why would you want to help me?” asked Charlie looking completely pathetic with a very red and blotchy face. “Surely you must hate me?”
“Because,” sighed Suzie. “To be totally honest, helping you will help me. There are so many things I didn’t do or say when I found out about you and Antony. Things that if I had said at the time wouldn’t have haunted me for years to come. If I can help you treat him the way he deserves then I can’t tell you how good that will make me feel.”
Charlie stared at Suzie for a long time.
“I really have missed you,” she said finally. “I’m so sorry.”
Suzie smiled back. “Right,” she said. First things first. Let’s get the facts. When did you first suspect there was something going on?”
Chapter 15
Drew hadn’t gone into the office that day. The incessant thinking was stopping him achieving anything approaching his normal routine. He had left Moss Bros with renewed resolve that his life was indeed on course. He was following the right path. All in the world was well. That had lasted until 11.04pm when he reached over to check that his alarm was set for the morning having just had an altercation with Emily concerning carnations. Drew’s mum’s pride and joy were the carnations she grew in her tiny back garden in the summer. Given her love for this particular flower she had asked if Drew would wear one as his buttonhole for the wedding. Emily’s and her mother’s dead bodies had been used in defence of this proposal and Drew had been asked to break the news to his mother. Having tentatively taken the “It would really please my mum,” route he was under no uncertain terms that having carnations amongst the blush pink anthuriums would ruin the entire wedding. Not having the energy to push it further he had switched off his bedside light and laid his head on his pillow at which point the thinking had renewed its relentless pursuit of his peace of mind. By three in the morning he had been reduced to trying to remember the score of every away match for Manchester City over the last five years in the hope that it would divert his over active brain. Fitful sleep arrived but by morning he was exhausted.
Unable to face Suzie in his muddled, exhausted state he had set up base in a local café with Wi-Fi and called in to say he was working off-site. The article he was attempting to write on a domestic violence case involving a wife who had fed her husband crushed maggots baked into lasagne because she was so sick of his fishing obsession was doing nothing to settle his mind or his churning stomach.
At around lunchtime he heard the door open and a familiar giggle reverberate around the room. He ducked down behind his laptop as Suzie bounced into the room. He peered over the top of his screen just in time to see Gareth the editor throw a casual arm over her shoulder as they both gazed up at the blackboard to make their selection from the day’s specials.
He stared at their easy proximity feeling confused, horrified, relieved, angry, you name it, every emotion available to a man entirely unsure of his heart.
He watched mesmerized as they took a table at the far side of the room having thankfully not spotted him. They chatted and laughed merrily through the entire meal. Suzie looked mightily pleased with herself and Gareth appeared to be laying the charm on with a spoon. Something he usually only reserved for his best-paying advertisers.
Every time Suzie’s laughter peeled through the room he felt a sharp pain somewhere in his chest. She clearly fancied Gareth he thought. And there he’d been thinking that she’d totally given up on men. He idly tapped Gareth’s full name into Google to see what came up, hoping he’d uncover the fact that he was a convicted murderer in Kansas on the run from death row. Just as Drew was unearthing Gareth’s glittering background during his time at Cambridge, a pair of sparkling eyes peeped at him over his screen.
“Peep-bo,” chimed Suzie. “What are you doing hiding in here?” she asked plonking herself down in the seat opposite. “I’ve been waiting for you to turn up all morning. I have sooooo much to tell you it’s untrue.”
“I … I just needed some quiet to get this done,” he stuttered waving at Gareth’s graduation photo on his parents’ blog that fortunately Suzie could not see.
“This,” she said slamming his screen down is much more exciting. “I’ve just had lunch with our esteemed editor and Drew, guess what? He loves me.”
“He what!” exclaimed Drew. This was worse than he thought. How long had this been going on?
“He thinks I’m the best thing since sliced bread because advertising revenues have doubled off the back of the success of my new column. Doubled Drew. Can you believe that? I knew I was getting loads more letters and emails but who would have thought this could happen? And guess what?” she said not pausing for an answer. “Apparently ever since I suggested that woman should threaten to burn her husband’s private parts off with a blow torch, sales of them have tripled. Homebase want to take out a fu
ll page ad. Awesome. That’s what Gareth said. Awesome.” Suzie reached over and finished the last bit of donut that Drew had been saving.
“That’s really great,” said Drew wallowing in the relief that Gareth and Suzie were not having a passionate affair and were not totally besotted with each other.
“And,” she said munching away. “That’s not the most important thing I have to tell you.”
Drew felt himself tense again. They were in love. Now Suzie was single-handedly saving the paper, Gareth had fallen for her.
“Yesterday I went to see Charlie.”
Bloody hell he thought. Where’s this guy come from. Who the hell was Charlie?
“You know, Antony’s wife,” she said spotting the troubled look on his face. “The best news actually is she’s fat. Made me so happy I cannot tell you.” She paused noting Drew’s still confused look.
“It’s a girl thing,” she said. “Anyway guess what?”
“What?” he barely muttered.
“He’s only bloody at it again.” She dropped her tone to an excited whisper. “He’s having an affair.”
“Oh my God,” said Drew, the news banishing his previous worries clean out of his head.
“And you will not believe who with,” she whispered into his ear so he could feel her breath on his cheek, sparking off a whole new wave of thinking.
Chapter 16
Dear Suzie
I am twenty-eight years old and I recently got in touch with my first ever boyfriend Michael, via Facebook. After emailing each other a few times we got together and it was just like old times. We got on so well and this time I even got to have sex with him. He said he didn’t want to be in a relationship because he’d just had his fingers burnt by his ex-girlfriend however he thought he could manage on a “friends with benefits” basis. This has been going fine for the last few months, but now he’s started asking me if I’m still in touch with any of the really pretty girls from school and if I’ll bring them along next time we meet. I don’t want to because then we won’t be able to have sex. I don’t think he realizes this. Do you think I should point this out to him or would that be too forward?
Yours sincerely
Lisa
Dear Lisa
Please don’t get me started on the whole “friends with benefits” thing. You may as well hang a sign around your neck saying “FREE SEX – NO QUESTIONS ASKED.” Also the fact that you assume he’s a friend just kills me. That’s not called a friend, it’s called a client. Get real Lisa, he’s taking advantage of you and it’s time to turn the tables. Tell him that you are still in touch with the most gorgeous person from school and that they are absolutely dying to see him again. Say you should all meet at his house because this person likes your “friends with benefits” status and is interested in a threesome. Arrive early and tell him that you think you should turn the heating up and strip down to your underwear to set the right mood. When he has stripped down to his boxers and five minutes after your guest is due to arrive, get out your phone and check for messages. Tell Michael that Gary is two minutes away and he’s absolutely gagging for it. Tell him he’s a great friend of yours and has got one very, very big benefit.
Have fun
Suzie
“Stuck-up, over-ambitious bitch,” muttered Jackie to Suzie as they settled themselves on a line of chairs somewhere deep in the bowels of Keeling Library.
“Shush, she might hear you,” muttered Suzie back.
“Don’t give a damn,” said Jackie a little louder this time. “I mean look at her in her, oh-so-prissy little polyester suit. As if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Not that I even want to think about what has been in her mouth if she’s been screwing that shit Antony.”
“Thanks for that mental picture Jackie.”
Antony had practically handed Suzie a revenge plan on a plate. If it worked the result could be spectacular although it had taken a little time to persuade Charlie of her role. Several visits to Ben & Jerry’s in The Trafford Centre had been required while they plotted in secret, consuming large tubs of Chunky Monkey for inspirational purposes. Charlie now appeared to be fully on board with the Dear Suzie philosophy of how to deal with errant men. At this moment however Suzie was feeling a little unsure as she sat waiting her turn to see Antony for the first time in nearly ten years during his Constituent Surgery.
“Here she comes,” said Jackie jabbing Suzie in the ribs. “Troy, you got that lollipop ready mate? You just make sure you stick it on the nice lady’s A-line, okay?”
Troy beamed up at them both as they were approached by the navy-suited young lady.
“Hello ladies, I’m Megan,” beamed the excruciatingly tidy and shiny woman. “What a beautiful baby,” she gushed bending over to stroke Troy’s cheek. Sensing possible food Troy grabbed at her finger and stuffed it in his mouth before biting down hard. “Oooh,” she squealed in surprise.
“No Troy,” said Jackie sternly. “You don’t know where that’s been.”
Megan and Jackie exchanged fleeting glances both noting that this meeting was unlikely to flourish into a wonderful relationship.
Megan coughed, adjusted her rimless glasses and stared down at her clipboard.
“Antony’s just in with another constituent at the moment but if you could give me some details of what you wish to discuss with him it will save time later,” she said looking up and smiling condescendingly.
“So you are like the elf before we get to see Santa?” asked Jackie.
Megan stared back at her before bursting into peals of laughter.
“Oh yes very funny. Actually I’m an intern,” she said giving Jackie a fake smile.
“Well it’s lovely to meet you Monica,” said Jackie returning a false grin back.
“Actually it’s Megan,” said Megan, her fake smile fading to be replaced by a pink glow rising up from her stiff, school uniform sharp, white collar.
“If you say so,” said Jackie.
Suzie couldn’t help but smile to herself. She knew Jackie would know how to behave entirely appropriately for the situation.
“So,” said Megan gathering herself. “Can I check that you are a constituent of Antony’s? Can you tell me where you live?”
“On the Fairlawns Estate sweetheart.”
“Excellent,” she replied nodding.
“I know, I’m a genius,” replied Jackie. “I know my own address.”
“And what do you wish to discuss with your MP?” asked Megan, starting to look slightly nervous.
“I should like to discuss the disgusting lack of breastfeeding facilities in the area,” launched in Jackie. “If my Troy gets a thirst on whilst we’re out and about then I quite often have no option but to bare all in public. It’s shocking I tell you.”
“Err, yes I imagine that must be most uncomfortable for you.”
“Too right. It’s not an easy task being discreet with these nellies,” continued Jackie.
Megan was unable to resist the urge to stare at Jackie’s chest.
“Do you see what I mean?” urged Jackie.
“Yes, err no, err …” stumbled Megan.
“So anyway I was thinking that really it would be a good use of tax payers’ money to provide some facilities for women who need to feed their young.”
“Yes, yes of course. And do you have any proposals as to where these facilities should be located. It always helps when you can go in with a solution rather than a problem. That’s what Antony … err Mr. Barwood always says.”
“I’m thinking there’s a smoking room at the White Heart that can’t be used for smoking anymore so maybe that could be used for breast feeding,” said Jackie. “Handy for refreshments you see. You can’t afford to be de-hydrated when you’re breast feeding.”
Megan looked over to Suzie for some kind of validation that what Jackie was saying was as stupid as she suspected it was.
“Such a genius idea Jacks,” nodded Suzie. “And guess what. They’ve just re-installed Pac
-man.”
“No way?”
“Yes way.”
“How cool is that?” exclaimed Jackie, addressing Megan. “What a gift to the community, for the White Heart smoking room to become a haven for all breast-feeding mothers. I think your Antony is going to love this idea, don’t you?”
Megan was still staring at them both when the door to the room behind her opened and out staggered a man with a walking stick.
“Good day dear,” he said lifting his trilby slightly in salute to Megan. “He’s all yours,” he grinned.
“Err, I won’t be a moment,” muttered Megan and scuttled through the open door closing it firmly behind her.
“How did I do?” asked Jackie.
“You were brilliant,” replied Suzie. “Just hope he doesn’t smell a rat and refuse to see us or else the plan is down the swanny.”
“He’ll see us, he has to, he’s my MP.”
“Mmmm, I hope so,” said Suzie chewing her nails.
“You okay?” asked Jackie.
“Just feel a bit weird that’s all. You know I haven’t seen him in years. I don’t quite know how it’s going to feel.”
“Just you remember who you are and why you’re here. You are in control, remember? That’s what you keep telling your readers. By the way, I’m loving the free chocs I got for signing up for your newsletter on the website.”
“You got them did you?” asked a chuffed Suzie. “Can’t believe we’ve got a sponsor already. We only set the site up last week. Apparently we’re signing an STD clinic up as chief sponsor next month.”
“What would I get for that? A free dose of the clap?” snorted Jackie.
At that moment the door opened again and out walked Megan looking a little flushed Suzie noticed. Antony really was a shit.
“He’ll see you now,” said Megan, addressing Jackie.
“Sorry darling. A small emergency has arisen and I have to go. Troy needs feeding actually. But due to the insane lack of breast-feeding facilities I’ll be forced to expose myself in the reference section,” she said very loudly to allow the maximum number of Greater Manchester’s inhabitants to hear. “However my good friend Suzie here will take my issue up with Mr. MP in there. So bye, bye. Lovely to meet you Monica.”