He did. He called that night, Thursday, from his mobile. He said he’d come to my house tomorrow night and we’d go for dinner. I gave him my address and he hung up.
He had called and he was coming round tomorrow, he still liked me. I was happy. It was incredible that every time he phoned I could forget the anguish of the previous few days.
***
I tried to arrange for everyone to be in to meet him. Jess was: she had lots of work to do. Sarah was: she was tired. Sophie said that she’d get the Thespian to come over. I wanted them to see how fantastic he was, how wonderful, brilliant and gorgeous. It was my first opportunity to show off. I called Katie, who also had a date on Friday (Katie doesn’t do dates), with some DJ she really liked, or thought was sexy anyway. Sometimes I must remember that there are other people in this world apart from me.
On Friday I arranged my friends in the lounge so that they looked natural, not as if they were waiting for Mark to arrive. Sophie and the Thespian were having dinner at the table in the lounge, Sarah was on the sofa watching TV and Jess was on the floor surrounded by papers. They couldn’t have looked more natural if they tried. I wished I could say the same for me.
Mark was late. Half an hour, as seems to be his trademark. By then Sophie and the Thespian had finished their dinner and were watching TV, Sarah was bored and complaining and Jess said she was getting a numb bottom. They all moved.
When Mark finally arrived I was the only person around. The others came out to meet him, but they were too obvious: as soon as the doorbell went they all lined up in the lounge to receive him. I did the introductions and after half an hour of letting them have Mark’s time, I took him away and we went for dinner.
Mark was perfect. We had a perfect meal, a perfect evening, and this time he came back to my house. Sophie and Thesp were still up, so we had coffee and chatted. The Thespian was impressed by Mark working in radio and Mark talked about all his contacts and said perhaps he could help them by introducing them to a few. OK, so he was showing off a bit, but he was so wonderful he was allowed to. He stayed the night, but as I had a full house sex was relegated to the bedroom. I was amazed that although this was our third date I still couldn’t wait to rip off his clothes. In the morning we had a wonderful breakfast and he left amid promises to call.
Early relationships suck. I know they’re supposed to be full of magic, passion and romance, but really they’re full of feeling scared, not knowing when you’re next going to see them, feeling misunderstood, nervous, horrible. I had seen Mark three times in as many weeks and I wanted the pace to step up, but how could it? For now I just had to go back to tearing my hair out. God, how long would this last? I’ve already told you Mark was gorgeous. Even my friends thought so, which was really something because every other guy I’d liked they’d thought not gorgeous at all. Even Ben. He had something magnetic about him, some force that meant he was irresistible, a little like Katie. He was funny and made me laugh. He was clever and could talk about world events with a knowledge far greater than mine. He was interested in me, asking questions about my background, my family, friends, everything. And when I told him I didn’t want to be some great career woman, he listened and told me I should always do what I felt was right.
He did have faults: I had not gone into the relationship with my rose-coloured glasses, or not as much as I had with Ben. Mark was a little bad at timekeeping. You’d think after the first couple of times I’d have got used to that but, no, every time he was late I thought he had had an accident or that something terrible had happened. Then when he turned up I was so relieved that I wasn’t cross. Not that I could have been cross with Mark. He just had to look at me for me to be under his spell. Was it his strength or my weakness that I fell under it so easily?
He was equally bad with the phone. He never called when he said he would and still I kept thinking something bad had happened and I’d frantically call him. But he was never at home and his mobile was always switched off. He was impossible to get hold of. Actually, it’s amazing that we managed to have a relationship. But we did. Isn’t that just the best word in the English language, RELATIONSHIP. I could say it all day. But although we only saw each other once a week, that was OK. Mark was busy with his job and I was busy with my life. Actually, it totally pissed me off that I saw him so little and spent the rest of the time waiting for the phone to ring. It also pissed Katie off because I didn’t see her as much. She accused me of ‘sex before mates’, which was probably true, but I begged her forgiveness and she said she’d always be there for me, even though I didn’t deserve it. I felt quite intimate with Mark. He was the first man I’d made love with since Ben. And it was great: he was tender and considerate, warm and affectionate. I loved being with him in bed. But he had faults there too. He hated being touched while he slept and I liked to cuddle all night. And when I went near him while he was asleep he would bite me, usually on my head. A little strange.
But never mind, I was about to have a luxurious bubble bath and get myself looking beautiful for my date with Mark. Due to his timekeeping, I had started getting him to pick me up at my house, or arranging to meet him at his. Tonight I was going to his flat. Of course I got there early. I just couldn’t get the hang of being late, or even on time, even though I used the Circle Line. I walked slowly from the tube station to his flat, but I was still early. After trying to wait, I pressed his buzzer. There was no response. I buzzed again and again and again and again. No, he was not there. Unless – what if he was in the bath and had fallen asleep, or had been murdered in his bed, or what if the buzzer sounded like it was working but wasn’t? I ran round the corner to a phone box and called his flat. The phone rang then switched on to the oh-so-familiar answer phone and, no, unfortunately it wasn’t the buzzer that wasn’t working, although maybe his phone was broken too. Then I called his mobile, which was switched off. I had a cigarette to calm me down. I was so worried: he must be dead or hurt. What if he’d been run over and hadn’t made it back to his flat? Oh, God. Another cigarette. And another. I looked at my watch, I had been waiting outside for half an hour.
Just as I was about to call the police, Mark got out of a taxi. ‘Hi, baby,’ he said, kissing me.
‘Where have you been?’ I asked.
‘I went to score some dope. You haven’t been waiting long, have you?’ The concern was evident in his voice.
‘No, not long.’ We went into his flat, which was clean because he had a cleaner but messy because he was messy. I liked his flat: it was manly.
‘I got some wine and I thought we’d stay in, get stoned and order a curry or something.’
‘Sounds great,’ I said. This was a big step forward in our relationship. We were having a cosy night in. He opened the wine and he rolled a joint. When I thought about it, this meant so much more than going out: staying in together, just the two of us, well, that was a couple-type thing to do. This was going to be far more romantic than going out. I was getting used to the idea of a cosy night in when the buzzer went. Mark answered it, and three of his friends walked in.
‘Hi, Ruthie,’ they said, plonking themselves down.
‘Hi, guys.’ I had met David, Vic and Mike only once before. Mark got them all beer and they proceeded to get stoned. One of them had brought a video round of martial-arts cartoons and they all watched avidly. I was ignored.
‘I’m hungry, Mark,’ I said, hoping to cause a diversion.
‘Let’s have pizza,’ David said.
‘OK.’ Mark went to get the menu. Two bottles of wine, lots of joints, lots of cartoons and a pizza later, it was two in the morning and no one had shown any signs of leaving, probably because they were incapable of it. I was bored.
‘I think I’ll go to bed,’ I said, expecting Mark to join me.
‘OK, baby,’ Mark said, and kissed me. I went into his bedroom alone. I passed out straight away. Mark came to bed ages later, I guess – I don’t know, I didn’t wake. In the morning he kissed me lightly and we made l
ove. After we had showered and dressed, we went for breakfast and he walked me to the tube station. I thanked him for a wonderful evening, even though it hadn’t been, and he said he’d call me. I arrived home and resumed my normal position of waiting by the phone.
Chapter Fifteen
The Greatest Love: Part Two
Troy looked at Stephanie, mesmerised. ‘You’ve put on weight, you should take more care of yourself.’
Stephanie scowled at Troy. ‘You can talk, look at your beer belly.’
‘Stephanie, I’m in great shape. You, however, have let yourself go.’
They had been married a year and tensions were high.
‘Are you surprised? I take care of the house, I take care of you, and all you can do is criticise.’ Stephanie put on her towelling-robe and wished that Troy wasn’t such a pig.
‘Take care of the house? Take care of me? Honey, from where I’m standing all you do all day is eat, spend my money and cause me major headaches. You can’t even cook.’
‘Oh, really? And you – you never do anything. You and your “I’m a seriously successful businessman.” God, you never stop. You work, yes, but so do I and what do you do around the house? Nothing. You throw your clothes on the floor, you make mess after mess and you never even put the toilet seat down.’
‘Stephanie, shut up. You’re really boring.’
‘And you’re a bastard.’ Stephanie went to make Troy’s breakfast and Troy went to get ready for work. He forgot about his pain of a wife and smiled to himself, daydreaming about his gorgeous new secretary.
***
Mark didn’t call. I called him, at home and on his mobile, I left messages on both, but by now, I felt I had the right to. I called him on Tuesday, which was as long as I could bear to wait. On Thursday I went for a quick drink after work with Katie, then she had another date with the DJ, so I went home. My housemates looked upset.
‘What’s going on? Is something wrong?’
‘Ru, something’s happened that you need to know about,’ Jess said. Sophie burst into tears.
‘What is it? God, are you OK?’ I was worried.
‘It’s Mark,’ Sarah said.
‘Mark?’ I knew it! He really had had an accident this time.
‘Ruth, Mark came here tonight,’ Jess explained.
‘Why?’ I was confused.
‘He came to see Sophie.’ Sophie was still crying, Sarah was comforting her and Jess looked really uncomfortable.
‘Why the fuck did he do that? Why the fuck was he here?’ I was confused, angry that they were taking so long to tell me and hoping to God that this was a misunderstanding. Of course it had to be. I was falling in love with Mark. He probably said he was here to see Ruthie, or for coffee or something, and Sophie needed her ears de-waxed or something and had misheard.
‘He came round. I was the only one here. I told him you were out and he said that was OK because he was here to see me. I asked him why and he asked to come in. I thought maybe it had something to do with the radio stuff he does, but I felt really uncomfortable. I said could he just tell me what he wanted, as I was busy, I didn’t even let him in the door. Do you really want to know?’
I was white. My misunderstanding theory was not holding up but, yes, I needed to know. I nodded.
‘He asked me if I realised that you and he were very casual and not serious, and then he said I must have noticed the chemistry between us and he asked me out. I said no, I did, Ru, I said no to him and told him that he shouldn’t have done that to you. Then I asked him to leave.’
‘Then I got home and found Mark blocking the door,’ Jess said. ‘I heard him telling Sophie not to tell you, then he left, still smiling.’
‘So I burst into tears and told Jess. He was horrid and I need you to believe that I didn’t do anything wrong.’ I gestured that I knew she hadn’t, but I was too shocked to speak.
‘Listen, Ru, Sophie told me and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to hurt you again – none of us wanted that. But we knew he’d end up hurting you if we didn’t tell. We did it because we care, I promise. None of us is enjoying this one little bit,’ Jess said.
‘I know,’ I squeaked, then burst into tears. Sophie and I clung together and Sarah and Jess went to make tea. I knew this feeling: desolation, disappointment, anger. How dare he? How dare he do that to Sophie and how dare he do that to me? Bastard, bastard. How could he say we weren’t serious? I was bloody serious and I’d thought he was. I’d spent hours waiting for him, to phone, to turn up, to love me. I shouldn’t have pinned all my hopes on Mark, yet I had. Mark had become the centre of my life and then he had ruined it. But I had put him in that position. Would I ever learn? I didn’t blame Sophie and I didn’t excuse Mark. I had come a long way. For once in my life I was not going to make excuses for him, or defend him, or try to cling to him for fear of being alone. I would cry and I’d hurt, but I knew those feelings and I’d get over him far more easily than Ben. I would just bypass the denial stage at the speed of light and take control of my life for once. I locked myself in my room and cried. I cried for me, for my loss, I cried for Sophie and what she had been through, and I cried for me again. After sobbing my heart out and feeling those all-too-familiar end-of-the-world feelings, I sat up. I had done this for about a year now and I looked as though I was going to start it all over again. I was going to wrap myself in misery and live my life that way. It made me think. I had been largely unhappy the past year. I had done everything possible to enhance that unhappiness. It was Ben’s fault – no, it was my fault. I had fallen to pieces over Ben and I was about to do the same over Mark.
All the time I had felt I deserved every bit of misery I faced. I didn’t. I didn’t deserve this. I was the good guy here and Mark was the baddy. God, how long had it taken me to realise that I wasn’t doing anything wrong? I was just hurting. I had two choices; I could don my I’m-a-sad-loser T-shirt for the rest of my life, or I could stop being a victim and get over it. I had felt I was over Ben when I met Mark, and now I was going to get over Mark too. Oh, how much better I would be without either of them in my thoughts. I went back to the lounge.
‘I’m going to call him,’ I announced.
‘No, Ru, don’t,’ Jess begged.
‘I don’t think you understand. I am going to call the creep and tell him he’s a creep and get him to stay away from me and my friends.’ This was fighting talk.
‘Oh, Ru, that’s wonderful.’ Sophie hugged me.
‘I never thought I’d see the day,’ Sarah said.
***
As I walked to the phone I was feeling a mixture of emotions: strong, proud, sad and hurt, worried in case I got the answer phone. I dialled the number. Ironically he answered the phone: the only time he had been there for me was the last time he’d ever be there for me.
‘Hi.’
‘Mark, it’s Ru.’
‘Hi, babe, how are you?’
‘I’m fine, Mark, but you’re not. You’re a twisted little fucker who must be really stupid if you thought for a minute that Sophie wouldn’t tell me what happened earlier.’ Not bad.
‘What do you mean? Oh, when I came over earlier, I wanted to surprise you and you weren’t there. I told Sophie how much I liked you. What did she say?’
I couldn’t believe the bare-faced cheek of the man. ‘Oh, Mark, I’m disappointed in you. If you want to behave like slime, then at least have the guts to admit you’re slime. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again, ever.’ I put the phone down. God, what a cool chick. This was a new feeling. I liked it. OK, I was upset, but I hadn’t let him walk over me and I hadn’t let him make me a victim. I would get over this and I would do it bloody quickly. I had handled it, and I had handled it brilliantly. Mark didn’t know I’d spent an hour composing what I was going to say. I had even sounded natural. I felt good about myself. I felt emancipated.
‘I think we should celebrate,’ I announced. My friends looked at me, stunned, and Sarah was hold
ing a box of tissues.
‘Oh, I don’t need those. I need wine and I need to slag off men.’
‘Oh, Ru, I’m so proud of you,’ Sarah said.
‘Were you horrible to Mark?’ Jess asked.
I nodded.
‘Really horrible?’ Sophie asked.
I nodded.
‘I’m a cool, mean bitch who ain’t never gonna let a penis-holder get the better of me.’ We all laughed and opened the wine.
‘Let’s play the worst-date game,’ I suggested.
‘What?’
‘OK, we’ll all say what our worst date was, and then we’ll judge with marks out of ten. The winner gets an extra glass of wine.’
‘OK, only because you’re the girl not to be messed with. But, Ru, isn’t it obvious who’ll win?’
I laughed. ‘I may get to like winning,’ I said.
Jess went first. ‘I arranged to meet a nice respectable lawyer for dinner. I met him at something I went to with Thomas. Anyway, when I first met him he was smart, wearing a suit and quite attractive so when I saw him in the restaurant I almost didn’t recognise him. He was wearing snow-washed jeans, an anorak and a bright orange shirt. He looked so awful, no kidding. I mean, he didn’t have to be in Armani, but this century would have been good. I had to have dinner with him, because I didn’t know what else to do. We sat down to dinner and I couldn’t stop staring at him, he looked so different, I couldn’t hold a conversation and I couldn’t eat. All I could think about was his bad taste. I was in shock. Jake took my shock to mean I fancied him, so as soon as the coffee was finished, he paid the bill, led me out of the restaurant and tried to put his tongue down my throat. I just ran. I actually ran away, hailed a cab and left him looking confused. Ugh, just the thought of those jeans is almost enough to make me give up sex forever.’
My turn. ‘Without question, I think it has to be Wayne, and I don’t need to tell you about that again.’
Rubber Gloves or Jimmy Choos? Page 28