by Isla Gordon
‘Are you okay?’ Flynn said, jogging to a halt beside her. ‘Are you training for the Olympics or something?’
She shook her head, gulping in oxygen, and faced him.
‘What is it? Do you feel ill?’ he asked, seeing the worry in her eyes.
‘I need to talk to you about something,’ August blurted out.
‘Go for it.’
She hesitated, letting the wind cool the dampness on her face, causing goose bumps to form on her arms. ‘It could be nothing. It could be nothing at all, but I feel like I need to give you the information and then it’s your call. Do whatever you want with it. You probably already know anyway.’
‘Know what?’
‘It’s about … Poppy.’
August spotted the flicker of a smile cross his face at her name. She felt like the biggest cow for being the reason that smile would soon leave.
‘What about her?’ Flynn asked, concerned.
‘I think … I know … that we’ve met Poppy before.’
‘At the Roman Baths?’
‘No, before before; before you started dating her.’
‘Where?’
Here goes, August thought. ‘Do you remember at the open house, when we first arrived and some girl came bursting out of the flat in a huff?’
Flynn crinkled his brow. ‘Not really.’
‘She made a comment about how we’d be right for the place but it had been a big waste of time for her? She was one of the people who already knew Mrs H only wanted a married couple, before we did?’
‘Oh … ’ Flynn gazed off towards the river for a moment. ‘And you think that was Poppy?’
‘I’m sure it was. She looked really familiar to me when you first introduced us but it wasn’t until I saw her yesterday on the landing, when you two were heading out to go for your drink, that it hit me who she was.’ She watched as Flynn absorbed what she was saying.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
August nodded.
‘So she went to view the same house as us,’ shrugged Flynn. ‘She’s settled somewhere now.’
‘Did she mention it though, the first time you brought her over?’
‘No … ’
‘Don’t you think that’s weird?’ August said. Flynn flinched at that, like it was something he didn’t want to hear, or that he didn’t want August to say. She tried to smooth it over by adding, ‘I just mean that I would have turned up and gone, like, Oh, you live here? That’s so funny, I came to view this flat a few months back too, if it were me.’
‘To be fair, August, not everybody thinks and says what you think and say.’
‘I know, I just—’
‘Maybe she was just a bit embarrassed because she felt like she wasn’t “selected” for the flat, or whatever. Or maybe she just doesn’t remember because she’d seen a hundred flats for rent that week.’ He paused, regarding her, a look in his eye that she hadn’t been on the end of before, like he wanted to say something but was holding back. ‘Or maybe it wasn’t even Poppy.’
They were all good, reasonable arguments, and August had argued with herself the same points over and over again for the past twelve hours. She didn’t know what was the truth, she just knew she needed Flynn to be privy to all the same information as she was. Which is why she said, with conviction, ‘It definitely was Poppy. I know it.’
Flynn ran a hand over his sweaty brow. ‘It’s just that I can barely remember that woman. I doubt she can remember seeing me that day.’
‘Or maybe she does remember, and she recognised you in the bar, and that’s why she came up to you in the first place.’
He looked down towards the river, his face hardened, his eyes searching for nothing in particular. ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to imply.’
‘Nothing,’ August lied. But she hadn’t been one to sugar-coat things with Flynn and wasn’t about to start now; that wasn’t the type of relationship they had. ‘I’m just questioning her motives, I guess.’
‘Her motives?’ Flynn cried. ‘As in, why is she with me?’
‘No, not why is she with you – there are a hundred million reasons why she would be with you because you’re you – I just mean, what if she’s annoyed that we got the flat instead of her?’
‘If she was, then she must have got over it, because she’s not mentioned a thing to me.’
‘She seems … ’ August trailed off.
‘She seems what?’
‘Cold. Annoyed. I don’t know.’
Flynn looked miserable, like this November morning. ‘Perhaps she’s not exactly feeling the warmth from you.’
August was afraid she was floating downriver, without Flynn, making things worse rather than being the lifeboat. ‘I tried, Flynn, I’ll keep trying – I promise – and I don’t think I’ve been being weird around her, it’s just that now I know who she is I can’t help but worry.’
‘Worry about what?’ Flynn asked. He looked exhausted all of a sudden, and rubbed at his forehead like a headache was forming with a vengeance.
‘I think she knows about us.’
‘There is no “us”,’ Flynn snapped. ‘You … never mind.’
August felt cold, the chill in the breeze enveloping her now. She knew that, of course she knew that, but it still stung her pride, and her heart. She might not be part of an ‘us’ with him romantically, but she meant something to him, didn’t she? She gritted her teeth. ‘I know, I’m just trying to speak to you as a friend. I think something is up.’
‘Is this just jealousy? Are you worried we’re not going to be able to play imaginary marriages anymore? Are you worried about your dream home? How about worrying about me and my happiness?’
‘I am worried about you, that’s the point, it’s not about me,’ … Was it? No, she cared for Flynn, maybe even more than she cared about the house on Elizabeth Street, but that wasn’t the question right now.
He was silent for a while, looking forward, breathing hard. Then he said, his voice low and his eyes refusing to look at her, ‘I am trying my best to be happy. Trying my hardest to make a life for myself here, trying to find a reason why this wasn’t all one huge mistake. I’m trying to move on from a broken relationship.’ And then he added, almost inaudibly, ‘I’m also trying to respect you, and move on from whatever this dysfunctional mess is that we’ve got ourselves into.’
August couldn’t breathe for a moment. What did that mean? What was he saying? ‘Flynn?’
‘I need to think.’ He started to back away.
She caught him by the sleeve, pushing her own confusion aside. ‘I just don’t trust how she came into your life all of a sudden, never mentioned that she’d been inside our flat before, and seems really suspicious of me.’
‘Of course she’s suspicious of you,’ Flynn threw up his hands. ‘Look at you; you’re fun and pretty and you know me. The two of us get on in a way she and I are nowhere near to yet. Of course she’d be wary of you.’
August shook her head, getting annoyed back at him now for twisting this all around on her when she was only ever trying to be open with him. ‘Don’t put this down as some kind of clichéd female rivalry thing, like Poppy can’t handle you having a female friend.’
‘Maybe that’s not the question, then. Maybe it’s can you handle me having a girlfriend?’
She didn’t know what he wanted her to say. She withdrew her hand from him and stepped back, ready to take herself out of the picture. This was his problem to deal with however he wanted, she’d simply been the messenger. ‘Don’t you dare try to make me look like I can’t handle you having a girlfriend. I’ve been nothing but welcoming towards Poppy, even though she’s been, frankly, an icy bitch around me. The only time I’ve faltered is when I realised that she might be playing you.’
‘What do you think she’s going to do?’
‘I don’t know!’ August had been raising her voice but she tried to lower it back down as another couple of joggers passed them by, serving them wit
h a look. ‘I have no idea what she may or may not be cooking up, I don’t have the answers, I don’t even have a theory, I’m just telling you what I know.’
Flynn sighed, and not the happy, contented sigh she’d heard come out from him when he drank coffee on the wall outside in the morning sunshine, or when they’d shared a takeout pizza together, eating until their bellies were too full. He stared at her for the moment, and not with the soft, inquisitive stare that he’d treated her to before they’d kissed. This was all different, all wrong.
Eventually he spoke. ‘I think the problem is, you don’t really know anything.’
Flynn turned and took off in a gentle jog, as it started to drizzle. August waited until he was out of sight around the centuries-old abbey, and then set off herself, in the opposite direction.
Chapter 55
Flynn
As Flynn ran a short-cut back towards Elizabeth Street, August’s words turned and churned inside his head. They mangled together, mixing with annoyance, sadness, guilt at how he’d spoken to her, and worry, in case she was actually right.
Why was August doing this? He’d so wanted her and Poppy to get on, for some reason it had seemed important to him, but now she seemed to be trying to pick fault.
Was there something about Poppy and the way they met, the keenness she’d shown in visiting his home and the interest in his relationship status. ‘You’re not married?’ she’d asked at the bar that first night. But that was a normal question, a good question, really, for anyone flirting to check up on. Flynn found himself trying remember if she’d asked that question with curiosity, or with surprise, and then he cursed August under his breath for making him assess Poppy’s intentions, and flooding black ink into his memories of the start of their relationship.
August was his flatmate, nothing else, the rest was just make-believe. Poppy was somebody who he could maybe, one day, love in the same way he’d loved Yui, and he couldn’t wait for that day to come.
But try as he might to make this all about August, ultimately, he needed to speak with Poppy. He took a brisk shower, and left the flat quickly, not ready to run into his fake wife again just yet.
Flynn saw the back of Poppy’s head as he approached the park bench, her distinctive red hair immaculate with just light tendrils dancing in the cold breeze. He watched her for a short moment, trying to get a sense of exactly how he felt about her now he could see her.
On the one hand, he’d thought he was really beginning to like her. She was fun, clever, confident. She’d helped him know there was possibility to be happy again after how things had ended with Yui.
On the other hand, didn’t the fact he only thought he was beginning to like her after nearly two months tell him something pretty clear? He enjoyed spending time with Poppy, and she seemed to enjoy him, but even though he’d put down the slow burn as him not wanting to rush into a new relationship, neither of them seemed to really be making much effort to stoke the fire and get it roaring. Was it possible that the ‘like’ was exactly where it was always going to end?
‘Hi, Poppy,’ Flynn said, coming around the side of the bench.
‘Flynn,’ Poppy said, getting up and tightening her coat around her. ‘It’s so frickin’ cold today, why the hell did you want to meet outside?’
She went in for a kiss but he stopped her. ‘Do you want to get a coffee?’
‘I want you to buy me a coffee,’ she grumbled, side-eyeing him, and the two of them walked to the nearest cafe, the one August was always talking about that had good breakfasts. He told Poppy this, and watched her reaction after he said August’s name.
But Poppy remained stoic, not so much of a hint of a curled lip or a rolled eye. Surely that wasn’t the natural reaction if you disliked someone to the extent August had made out? What was it she’d said? That Poppy had always been an icy bitch around her? But then, Poppy wasn’t exactly beaming and asking after August’s wellbeing today either.
Flynn pressed on. ‘I went for a run with August this morning. We got into a bit of an argument.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Poppy said, with the warmth of a robot. ‘Lovers’ tiff?’
‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because it’s a joke?’ Poppy took her coffee and went to sit at one of the large wooden tables upstairs, in the corner, the furthest away from other customers. Before Flynn had even sat down, she asked, ‘What do you want to talk about, Flynn?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that last night for maybe the first time since we started this,’ Poppy waved her finger between the two of them. ‘Whatever this is, you were affectionate and touchy-feely, and I felt like you were looking at me, really looking at me, for the first time. Do you know what I thought?’
‘What?’ he asked. This wasn’t how he’d been expecting this conversation to go.
‘I thought, “Oh great, he’s finally got the permission he’s been craving from his flatmate, and now he’s allowing himself to have a little fun.” ’
Flynn’s blood ran a little colder at the way she used air quotes around the word ‘flatmate’. Was August right? He had a feeling he was about to find out. ‘She is just my flatmate, you know.’
‘Maybe she was, once upon a time.’ Poppy regarded him, her blue eyes hard, the curve of her mouth flattened out. She was right; last night, tipsy with a bit of liquor, happy because the evening had gone well, and, yes, because August had seemed to approve, he’d allowed himself to try and get closer to Poppy, to try and stoke that fire. That wasn’t so strange, surely. At the end of the day, August was his closest friend here and he’d wanted her to like Poppy. It had made a difference to him.
Eventually, Poppy shook her head. ‘And now you’re all distant again, brooding even, and we’re back to square one. So clearly she told you.’
He held her gaze, one hand clamped around his coffee. He was going to play dumb, ask what she meant, but they both knew and therefore it was game over.
‘That’s a yes, then,’ Poppy sighed. ‘I knew she realised who I was last night. If you want me to apologise, I’m not going to.’
‘Did you know who I was when you came up to me in the pub?’
‘Yes, I recognised you from the open house, of course.’
‘I don’t really remember you.’
‘I’m not surprised, you only had eyes for the one you walked in with,’ Poppy replied. ‘And before you grow the biggest head, I don’t remember you because you’re the most attractive man in the world or anything. I remember you because the two of you looked like such a perfect couple. The dream tenants for that horrible old landlady.’
‘She’s okay,’ Flynn said, surprised at himself for defending Mrs Haverley. A bit of deflection, perhaps. ‘If you thought we were such a happy couple, what did you hope to gain by chatting me up by the bar?’
‘Nothing, quite honestly. The hen party dared me to come on to you, this handsome stranger waiting at the bar, and when I looked over, I recognised you. Thinking you were a safe bet to not become creepy and clingy, because I knew you were with someone, I went along with it. And then imagine my surprise when it turns out you actually didn’t have a partner.’
Flynn’s mind was a muddle, he couldn’t separate the reality of what happened from the events she’d manufactured yet. ‘But you didn’t know where I lived at that point, you didn’t know I’d got the apartment.’
‘No, I didn’t, I just thought, Hey, this guy is actually single, and he’s pretty nice. It was the second time we met that you mentioned where you lived.’ She paused to sip her coffee, her eyes never leaving him.
‘Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you just ask me how I got the apartment if that’s what you were wondering. I probably would have told you.’
Poppy shrugged. ‘I was curious and intrigued, and to be honest, I wanted to find out myself because I didn’t know if you would have told me the truth. Besides, I was still getting to know you, and I like
d you, and I wanted to see the house myself to make sure I wasn’t jumping to conclusions. Because at the time it felt a little far-fetched to assume the two of you were faking being a married couple in order to beat off the competition for a rental apartment.’
‘It’s not as simple as that,’ Flynn started. ‘It wasn’t just any old flat—’
‘But I was right, wasn’t I? That landlady only wanted to rent to a married couple. Not the likes of me, not the likes of a lot of the other hopefuls. But you two must have fit the bill when you lied your way in.’
Flynn was silent for a time, turning the facts over in his head, asking her questions that he didn’t say out loud about why she hadn’t confronted him, why she’d carried on the façade, but maybe it didn’t matter. They’d both held things back. They’d both made this an unhealthy relationship, and him more so.
Instead, he asked – or rather stated – after a while, ‘You left a bra in my apartment.’
Poppy smiled a little at that, a twinkle in her eye, just for a second. ‘All right, you caught me, I wanted to be a little territorial. Can you blame me? You made me feel like the other woman, like the mistress, and you didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me why.’
‘When did I make you feel like that?’ he asked the question but he knew it was true. From his jumpiness at sneaking her in and out of the flat, to the ease and warmth he couldn’t help give off towards August, even when Poppy was around.
‘Well, for one thing I’d just seen the photo of you and her on the beach, looking like happy newlyweds, and I wondered what else you two got up to there alone.’
‘Nothing,’ Flynn said, softening, understanding her point of view.
‘Nothing?’ she pressed, however. ‘You’ve never slept together, or even kissed?’