by Lily Morton
I come to a stop when I enter the room though because Sid is the only occupant. The TV is blaring but he seems a million miles away and when I call his name he starts. “Mabes,” he says sounding almost astonished to find me in the house. “How you feeling this morning?“ I actually blush when he says this. I can feel it creeping over my face, and for a wild moment I think he’s talking about Charlie and I sleeping together, but then I look at his face and I realize he doesn’t know.
“I..I’m fine,” I stutter. “Not a trace of a hangover.”
“That’s good,” he says blankly, and I’m sure if I had told him that my eyeballs had fallen out because of alcohol poisoning I’d have got the same response.
“Are you okay?” I ask carefully.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he dismisses me with a casual wave of his hand. Getting to his feet he starts to move past me. “You know I think I’ll go for a lie down though. I feel a bit shitty.”
“Hungover?”
“Probably,” he says with a bland smile which worries me and would really worry me if I wasn’t distracted too. As he moves out of the room I summon my courage.
“Erm where’s Charlie?” I try to say in a casual voice that I normally wouldn’t get away with. “Is he eating breakfast, or in the studio?”
“No, he’s gone,” he says simply.
“Gone? Gone where?” I ask shrilly, and he looks at me startled.
“I don’t know. He didn’t say, just that he had some business to take care of and he didn’t know when he’d be back.”
“Did you speak to him then?” I ask, feeling a hollowness starting in my stomach.
“No, he left me a note and a message on my phone. What’s up Mabe? Did you need him for something?”
“No, no,” I say waving my hand. “Did he, did he sound okay?”
“He sounded tired,” he says considering. “But then he’s probably got a right hangover. Have you two had another row?”
I decide to give him this or otherwise he’ll be digging when he starts thinking about it. “Yes, we had a few words. Nothing major, you know.”
“I wouldn’t worry then babe. He’ll be back. See you in a bit.”
When he’s gone I lower myself slowly to the settee feeling brittle, like I might break with any sudden movement. I can’t understand where he’s gone. What business would he have that would make him leave like this without saying goodbye to me after last night? I look down at the settee and have a sudden flashback to last night and I flush hard, and then I feel a resolution in myself. I hadn’t been alone in feeling that last night. He’d been right beside me every step of the way and he couldn’t have manufactured the trembling and passion for me in his body. Reaching in my pocket for my phone I dial his number before I can talk myself out of it. I’ll speak to him and get the proper story and stop this silly worrying. After all this is me and Charlie and he wouldn’t hurt me deliberately.
The phone rings and rings until it cuts to the answer phone. I hang up and try again in case he’s in an area of bad reception but it still rings out so I leave a message after all. “Hi Charlie, it’s me Mabel,” I say, hating how I suddenly sound so hesitant, but it’s a rare occasion that Charlie doesn’t pick up when I call. He usually drops whatever he’s doing, including women, if the band are to be believed. “Erm I just rang to say good morning and where are you?” I lower my voice. “I miss you babe. I can still feel you inside me. Anyway, please call me. I need to speak to you.”
I hang up and stick the phone back in my pocket. I’m not going to sit and wait for him to ring back because that’s tempting fate as my mum used to say. Instead, I go upstairs and strip mine and Charlie’s beds. I change the sheets and do two loads of laundry, thanking goodness that Mrs M isn’t here yet.
When I’ve finished I pace around for a bit. The house is too quiet and I wonder how Sid is so I creep upstairs and poke my head around the door. He’s fast asleep though and doesn’t stir when I go in, so hopefully he’ll be better when he wakes up. I decide to hoover and then I potter down to the kitchen and decide to make some cakes. Charlie and Sid both love my baking and hopefully it’ll fill the time until Charlie rings me back. I check my phone again but there are no messages or missed calls. I even take it over to the window to check reception but I’ve got a full five bars. Shut up I tell my inner worried voice. He’ll call.
Six hours later, the cakes are cool and iced, the house is clean, the laundry washed and ironed and I can no longer keep deluding myself. Charlie isn’t going to ring me. I sink onto the chair in my bedroom wrapping my arms around myself. I feel a pain inside me unlike anything I’ve felt before, and only my arms tight around my middle keep it under control. I feel myself starting to sway backwards and forwards and hot tears spring up in my eyes. Where is he? He obviously regrets last night I think painfully. While I woke up relishing the new direction we were going in maybe he woke up regretting it bitterly. Maybe he’s run because I frighten him I think hopefully. Maybe he’s in love and it scares him and before I can stop myself I get out my phone and send another text:
Mabel: Charlie, please ring me. I’m really worried now. Do you regret it? Please tell me the truth. I’m going mad here.
But he doesn’t ring me or text. My phone stays silent and dead all the rest of that day and the long endless night, and he still doesn’t come home.
***
When I wake up the next morning I feel awful. Apart from the pain in my heart I have a nagging, grinding pain in my temples and I groan. My eyes feel dry and twice their size and my eyelids feel gritty. Forcing myself out of bed I sway slightly, and then go in search of some ibuprofen.
I can’t summon any enthusiasm as to what I should wear so I fling on a pair of skinny jeans, a purple vest top and an old cream and purple patterned short sleeved cardigan. I slip my feet into some ballet pumps and I’m about to head downstairs when I have a sudden thought and turn quickly before I can stop myself. I say a quick prayer before I open his bedroom door but it’s unanswered and I think my last hope dies because his room is empty and the bed is still made. I think it’s then that I start to get angry and it grows in my chest like a hard, glowing lump of coal. I torture myself with thoughts of him with other women and although deep inside me I can’t believe that he’d do that to us, another bigger part of me feeds on that anger and the lump gets bigger. Again I wonder how he could do this to us. Fuck you I think and then I say it out loud. “Fuck you.” It echoes in the empty bedroom. “Fuck you Charlie,” I whisper, and shut the door.
I head downstairs and follow the sound of the radio in the kitchen. Sid’s in there eating some toast. He still looks tired but better than yesterday. “You okay?” I ask, putting the kettle on to make some tea.
“Yeah,” he says, and he sounds clearer today. “I felt a bit shit yesterday which might have been the booze. I haven’t drunk like that in a long time.”
“It hasn’t set you back has it?” I ask alarmed. I know some people can’t drink when they’re recovering addicts, but nobody ever said that about Sid.
He considers that and he’s quiet for a minute. “No,” he says firmly. “I wasn’t a drinker and then a user. They never went together for me but I don’t think I’ll make a big habit of nights like that. I think it lowers my determination if that doesn’t sound too pussy.”
“No,” I say sadly, thinking about other things that happened because of that night. “It doesn’t sound pussy at all.” I change the subject. “Do you want to see your sponsor or pick up a meeting or something?”
He nods and smiles slightly. “You know I think I will. It can’t do any harm eh?”
“I think you’re doing really well,” I say coming up behind him and running my hand through his hair.
“How’s that?” and he sounds startled.
“This time four months ago you wouldn’t even have acknowledged that you needed anything, you’d have just got trashed. Now you’re listening to your body and taking evasive measures.�
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He kisses my hand. “Love you Mabes,” he says softly, and I whisper it back to him before slipping into my seat and taking a welcome first sip of my tea.
“Are you okay?” he asks then, obviously getting a close look at my face which is probably horrifying.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I’ve just got a headache so some fresh air will do me good. Do you want me to drive you today?”
“Do you mind?” he says, and I know he wants me to because he looks relieved.
“Nah, course not. I could do with a change of scene.”
“Mabes,” he says carefully, and I groan silently. “You know if you want to talk to me about anything you can. I’m not just his brother, I’m yours too.”
“So when you say ‘anything’, you actually mean Charlie?” I say wryly.
“I know something’s happened because he never has radio silence like this. I usually know where he is, and if I don’t then you do.”
“He hasn’t texted you?” I ask, amazed.
“No, he’s texted me to see how I am but he won’t say where he is, just that he’s taking care of some shit that’s come up.”
I blink because the idea of me being the shit that needs sorting out is so beyond painful I almost can’t breathe, and I can’t help it but my mouth opens up and words come out. “Does he..……? Has he asked after me?” I read the answer in his face without him needing to speak and I hold my hand up. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Now are you ready to get moving?”
He smiles at me sadly and then leaves the room, already on his phone checking for a meeting.
Two hours later I’m parked on a side street in St John’s Wood waiting for Sid who’s been in a meeting for the last half an hour. I still have a headache which is really pounding now and I rub my temples. I haven’t got any ibuprofen in my bag and I consider going to get some, but I don’t want to lose this parking space and I might miss Sid so I stay put. My thoughts are interrupted by the phone ringing and my heart stutters and my hands shake when I reach for it. I feel a sense of crushing disappointment when I see that it’s only John ringing.
“Hello.”
“Mabel, it’s John. Are you okay?” He sounds abrupt and worried.
“Yes,” I say slowly. “Of course I am. Why?”
“I’m just ringing to apologize.”
This is getting more and more mysterious. “Apologize for what?”
“Christ, this is even more embarrassing than I thought it would be. It’s about the text messages.”
“What messages?”
“The ones I sent to you by mistake when I was drunk. Oh thank god, please tell me you haven’t read them because if you haven’t, then please don’t. Just delete them.”
“Okay John, why are you sending messages to me that you need to apologize for?” I ask cautiously.
“They weren’t meant for you,” he says, and then lets out a weary sounding sigh.
“Oh,” I say, getting it suddenly. “Did you mean to send them to Moira?”
He sighs again at the sound of his ex-wife’s name. “Yeah, not my finest moment,” he admits.
“Why were you sending her ……? Wait, were they rude or horrible messages?” There’s a strained silence. “Oh my god they were rude. I thought you two were finished,” I say, titillated now.
“We were totally finished until a week ago and then suddenly we weren‘t.” The silence stretches and I totally let it. This is really taking my mind off my own problems. “We slept together,” he finally admits. “More than once, and I can’t get her out of my head.”
“Babe,” I say in total empathy. I really know how he feels on this. “I’m so sorry. Does she feel the same?”
He laughs suddenly. “I don’t know,” he admits wryly. “She’s still with that bloke, and anyway I sent the messages to you not her. You’re just before her on my contact list. She’s got no idea of how I feel.”
“Perhaps you should text her properly this time or just speak to her,” I suggest.
“Yeah, only this time I’ll do it sober,” he says. “I’m sorry honey anyway.”
“Don’t worry about it.” After promising to delete them I ring off and then immediately access them. For some reason they didn’t pop up as new messages and there they are in my message chain in all their glory:
John: I can’t get over yesterday sweetheart. I can still feel your tight cunt pulsing around me. I couldn’t even make myself shower this morning and all day I’ve smelt you on my fingers and immediately I’ve been back there with you in that dark room together. I know you said you felt the same then, but how do you feel now?
John: I need to see you. Does he know about us? I thought you were going to speak to him about us. He can’t give you what I give you sweetheart. I know you go on about being friends but we’re so much more than that. I need you to ring me. I can’t sleep and I can’t eat and my dick is so hard it hurts.
My face flushes. Good grief for a buttoned up lawyer he can certainly sext. My finger hovers over the delete button and then a horrible thought occurs to me. These messages didn’t register as new messages. Was that because they’d been opened and read? Suddenly, I remember in the middle of the night when I thought I’d heard a phone chiming and Charlie getting up to deal with it. I’d presumed it was his but what if it was mine, and I groan. If he’s read these messages he’ll think I’ve been sleeping with John all along.
At first I don’t see how he can think this because I’ve been at his house all this time, but then I recall that on the day mentioned I’d vanished to my mums because I didn’t want to face Charlie. The facts all make sense now. He’d read these messages and thought that I’d lied to him about John. Charlie values honesty more than anyone I know, and this would have made him angry. I pick up the phone to ring him and set this whole mess straight but then I hesitate. I’m still angry with him. After all, he chose to fuck off and leave me after the first time we’d slept together. He’d chosen to go off in a half arsed strop rather than talking to me. He knows me after all, better than anyone. Surely he knows that I wouldn’t lie to him. He couldn’t be that insecure about me and other men, not Charlie the confident, womanizing musician.
My decision is made for me when I see Sid coming towards the car and I slide my phone back into my pocket. Opening the door he slides in next to me and I turn to him. “Are you okay?”
He smiles. “Yeah, I feel a lot better, a lot more centered you know? Anyway, I was wondering whether you’d mind if I went to stay with Seth tonight. I’ve got all these tunes in my head and if I’m with him and concentrating on the music, then I won’t be doing anything silly.”
I smile because it’s a brilliant idea. Other than Charlie there’s nobody as good for Sid as Seth. He’s so calm and collected and he’ll watch out for Sid like he’s his own brother. “I think that’s a great idea,” I say brightly.
He looks unconvinced. “Are you sure because it’ll mean you being on your own in that big house?”
I laugh. “I’m not six you know. I’ve lived on my own for a long time.”
“I know. I just worry because you’re going through a difficult time at the moment.”
“Stop,” I say gently. “I’ll be fine babe. Stop worrying about me and start worrying about you for a bit. Anyway I might go round to see Viv if you don’t need me.”
“That’s a good idea,” he says, patently relieved, and after dropping him at Seth’s house I refuse an offer to come in for coffee and head the car towards Viv. I called her after I suggested it to Sid and she’s getting a Chinese takeaway and a bottle of wine.
When I get there I let myself in and shout hello. “We’re in here,” comes the reply from the kitchen.
“Who’s we?” I shout and then come to a stop as I enter the room because John is there.
“Hey babe,” I say, flushing slightly at the thought of those texts.
He notices and groans. “Oh god you read them.” I try to stutter out a denial and Viv giv
es one of her big cackling laughs.
“This is hilarious. Have you still got them Mabe? Let me have a look. I haven’t got anything naughty on my Kindle at the moment. I could do with a really filthy read!”
“No!” shouts John and then has to reluctantly laugh. “Never mind. I’ve made enough of a twat of myself this week. Having a tug of war over a phone would just compound it. Anyway, I bought you these to say sorry Mabel.” He reaches out to a huge bouquet resting on the kitchen table. It’s beautiful, full of lilies and freesias and I bury my nose in them inhaling the heavenly scent. Suddenly the kindness and the fact that this is the reason for everything going wrong hits me and to my horror I feel tears start in my eyes.
“Hey, hey,” says Viv, obviously alarmed. “What’s this Mabes? What’s the matter honey?“ She circles her arms around me and at the feel of her comforting familiarity I break down and let the tears come.
I cry for a while and to John’s credit he stays there, albeit looking incredibly uncomfortable, as Viv coaxes the details out of me. This calm is fractured when he realizes that he might have caused this.
“Oh, no, no,” he says running an agitated hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry Mabe. I can’t believe I’ve caused this, all because I can’t keep my dick in my trousers or hold my beer.”
Viv, however is having none of this and she isn’t remotely calm. “That fucking idiot,” she says. “I can’t believe he wouldn’t talk to you about this. What kind of prick just vanishes into thin air rather than try to sort it out?”
I sniff and wipe my face. “To be fair, this is all surmising,” I say. “We’re presuming that he read those messages and he thinks John’s my lover and that I lied. It’s equally possible that he woke up and just regretted it.”
“Bullshit,” says Viv. “Did you have your eyes open the other night in the pub? Mabe, I’ve never, ever seen him so happy and the way he was looking at you made even me melt. He’s in love with you.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“Yes, he is. It’s just unfortunate that he’s a fuckwit as well.”
To my surprise John nods. “I’ve only met him once,” he says. “Do you remember when he picked you up from that work do of mine and Viv’s, and I was with you? Jesus, the look he gave me. By the time you left I was just glad to still have all my own teeth.”