The Love Square

by Laura Jane Williams

  ‘Well,’ Penny started. ‘Sort of. I mean. It wasn’t serious.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Francesco, putting the salt back and resuming cooking. ‘I didn’t know that. Does Priyesh know?’

  ‘It was before Priyesh.’

  ‘And to think you told me you were lonely up here.’

  Penny took a step back from him. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said.

  ‘This Thomas guy, Priyesh … doesn’t sound very lonely to me, is all.’ He didn’t look at her. His eyes were on his pan.

  ‘That sounds like slut-shaming.’

  ‘Are you a slut?’

  ‘I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me, Francesco.’

  They stood in silence, Francesco faffing about with his food and Penny staring at him, waiting for his apology.

  ‘You know what,’ he said, turning the gas of the hob off and throwing down his towel. ‘I’m actually not that hungry. Help yourself if you want it.’ He banged the door on his way out.

  Penny stood in the empty kitchen. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she knew she felt the beginnings of total fury bubbling in the pit of her stomach. What right did Francesco have to get cross about a bloke she’d been seeing before he’d even arrived? Not to mention the fact that it took him the grand total of half a second to move on once she’d said she was leaving Stoke Newington. She stared at the pasta. She wasn’t hungry now either, and so angrily poured it into the colander and pulled out a plastic container so it could be stored in the fridge. As she moved around the kitchen she got angrier and angrier. Even if Francesco was mad, how dare he walk out on her? That was just disrespectful. Downright rude. She flicked the lights off in the kitchen and went upstairs to her flat.

  ‘Francesco,’ she grumbled to herself. ‘Bloody Francesco.’ She showered, climbed into bed, and lay staring at the ceiling. She waited to calm down, to let the feeling subside, but it only got stronger.

  The next morning Penny stood at the window of her front room and waited to see him coming down the hill opposite so she could intercept him at the door. She hadn’t slept, and it was his fault. She fully intended to give him a piece of her mind. She wouldn’t be spoken to like that and then shut out. It was totally inappropriate, especially since she was his boss.

  At exactly ten to the hour he came over the hill and Penny picked up her phone to call him. She watched through the glass as he answered.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. He sounded gruff.

  ‘Can you come straight up to the flat when you get here please?’ Penny said.

  Francesco sighed. ‘Fine,’ he said.

  Penny expected him to be contrite and apologize from the off about storming out on her. As far as she was concerned, she had every right to be furious, and only him saying sorry would do. Except the Francesco who came through her door wasn’t sorry at all. If anything he was as angry as her – he was almost shaking with anger. If she’d tossed and turned in fury all night, it was apparent that he had too.

  ‘No,’ he said, as Penny went to speak. ‘Me first. I get to talk.’

  Penny was taken aback at his tone. He didn’t sound hard in his rage. He sounded sad with it.

  ‘You need to do some soul-searching, Pen,’ he began. ‘Because you don’t realize your capacity to hurt people and it’s making you not very nice.’

  He stood opposite her, so furious it looked as though he was moments away from smoke escaping from his ears.

  ‘Why don’t you understand how loved you are?’ he continued. ‘Why can’t you see what’s right in front of your face?’

  He looked at her, his eyes bright with craving. It hit Penny hard when she got what he meant.

  ‘You?’ she said.

  ‘Yes me,’ he replied. ‘Come on, Penny. This is so stupid.’

  ‘Don’t call me stupid.’

  ‘I didn’t. This – the situation – that’s what is stupid.’ His tone was softer, now. He was calming down, like the pressure that had built up in him was slowly being released.

  ‘We’re supposed to be friends,’ she said, barely above a whisper. ‘Why are you saying all this?’

  ‘This isn’t friendship.’

  Penny looked up at him.

  ‘It’s not, is it? These other men – the Lizzo guy, Priyesh. You don’t have with them what you and me have.’

  Penny shook her head.

  Francesco carried on: ‘Penny, I love you. And I think you love me too.’

  ‘You’re supposed to be my safe person,’ Penny croaked, spooked. ‘I don’t want you to go anywhere.’

  ‘That’s the point,’ he said, softer now. ‘I’m not, am I? I love you.’

  ‘I can’t say it back,’ she said, shaking her head, tears threatening to spill over.

  ‘Do you want to say it back?’ Francesco said.

  ‘No,’ said Penny. ‘Because I know what you did.’

  ‘What I did?’

  ‘The day I left. The woman. The woman with all that hair.’

  Francesco looked like he’d been slapped. The colour drained from his face.

  ‘How did you …?’ he began, taking a step towards Penny with his hand out, as if he was going to reach for her wrist, or her waist.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Penny, taking a step back and bumping into the sofa. ‘Don’t touch me.’

  ‘I need to explain.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘Yes you do. Is this why we didn’t speak? Is this why you disappeared? Because you saw me with Valentina?’

  Penny went wild. ‘Do NOT say her name to me. Don’t you dare say her name!’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Pen. I am so, so sorry if you thought … for all this time … that …’ He stumbled over his own words, trying to decide where to start. ‘She’s nothing to me. That was my ex. It was messed up. She was there, somehow. I didn’t know she still had me on Find My Friend. You know the app? We did it when we were together so she could see when I was on my way home from work. She’d been using it to see where I was going and that’s how she knew I was at Bridges a lot. I told you she wanted me back, that she wanted to make it right after cheating. She thought I had a new job, I think, so went there looking for me. She was there right after you left, and I don’t know … I hate her for what she did to me so much, and I hated you for leaving, and she was apologizing to me, telling me how much she needed me, wanted me, and for a tiny second I could believe it was you saying those things.’

  ‘I came back for you,’ Penny said. ‘I turned the car around and in the thirty seconds since I left all this happened?’

  Francesco shook his head, mortified at what she’d seen. ‘Penny. I was so stupid. I wanted you to ask me to come with you so much.’

  ‘I hated you for months,’ Penny spat. ‘You broke my heart and you promised me you wouldn’t do that.’ Francesco launched himself at her before she could object, pulling her close. She pushed her face against his t-shirt and he held her, tightly, stroking her hair.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘It’s okay.’ Together they rocked back and forth.

  ‘Are you telling me the truth?’ she said, her voice muffled by his chest. ‘If you lie to me …’

  ‘It’s the truth,’ he said, pulling apart from her. He took her hand and they sat on the sofa, knees knocking and hands entwined.

  ‘We’re so good together, Penny. I think you’ve been fighting it because of what you saw, but what you saw was nothing. It was a mistake.’

  He kept stroking her hand.

  ‘This is how it is supposed to be. You and me. You have to feel it too. This is what it feels like when it’s good.’

  Penny started to cry. She cried for Mo for hurting her, which was boring but no less true because of it. She cried for Uncle David – in fear that he’d been sick, and in relief that he was getting better, and in anger that he’d put her here, away from her friends and in the middle of all these men. She cried because she was tired, and because she wanted Francesco to be enough – for it to be saf
e to truly love him, but it wasn’t. Was it? Could it be? What was the worst that could happen?

  She crumpled into him and felt the weight of his hand at the back of her neck, and the rise and fall of him. Pulling her head back slightly, he looked at her, and she looked at him, and he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, which she gratefully accepted.

  They looked at each other again and he gave her an equally-chaste kiss on her lips, just briefly.

  They looked at each other some more and Penny stopped thinking and pressed her mouth to his and the length of her body to the length of his body. She melted into him and he surrendered into her and it was pure and beautiful and had been such a long time coming. Penny didn’t have to think when they were like this. It felt pre-destined and safe. Her tongue explored his mouth and her hands ran the length of his body and even if she couldn’t say she loved him, it felt a lot like love.

  ‘We need to go down for service,’ Francesco said, after a while. ‘I don’t want to, but …’

  ‘I don’t want you to let go,’ Penny said.

  ‘Two more minutes,’ he replied, holding her tightly.

  ‘I need an emergency pep talk,’ Penny hissed at Charlie. ‘Something happened.’

  Charlie looked up from where they were polishing glasses behind the bar.

  ‘Good happened, or help-me-bury-the-body happened?’

  ‘Help me bury the body. No. Good. No, bad. I don’t know.’

  Charlie put down the glass and cloth. ‘Aw shit,’ they said. ‘Okay. Tea?’

  Penny nodded, and they moved through to the kitchen, threw a couple of tea bags in some mugs and filled them from the tap that gave out boiling water from the coffee machine, before reconvening in the bar.

  ‘I kissed Francesco,’ Penny said.

  ‘What?’ said Charlie. ‘Well that’s amazing! I assume you’ve officially forgiven him then?’

  ‘I mean, sure. The woman I saw him with – it was his ex. And so much has happened since then that … you know. Bygones.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Was that a bad idea?’

  ‘To forgive and forget?’

  ‘No. To snog him.’

  ‘Tell me why you think it could be a bad idea.’

  ‘Well. For one, Thomas. For two, Priyesh.’

  ‘Ohmygod,’ said Charlie. ‘You’re not even in a love triangle. You’re in a love … square!’

  ‘I don’t know what to do next.’

  ‘Do you have to do anything?’

  ‘That’s why I need this pep talk! I don’t know!’

  Penny’s mind had raced all through lunch service. Francesco worked at the opposite end of the kitchen and it was a busy shift, so they’d both been focused and in the zone. But as her hands moved and she plated up food and called out orders to Manuela, in her head she’d been somewhere else.

  Priyesh was filthy and serious.

  Thomas was adventurous and free.

  Francesco was her friend, above all else.

  Was it possible to feel deeply about three men equally, for different reasons, in different ways? Penny didn’t know the answer, but half-resolved that maybe she didn’t need to. She wasn’t sure what would happen next with Francesco. It was only a kiss. But, he’d also said I love you. She loved him too, she just didn’t know to what extent. Everything had changed now she knew that woman had been his ex. She knew how he felt about her – about Valentina. What she’d done to him when she cheated. There was no way he’d been seeing her again. Penny believed that much. ‘The obvious question is: are you actually in love with any of them?’ Charlie probed.

  ‘I don’t want to screw up what Francesco and I have,’ Penny said. ‘Since he’s been here everything has felt manageable. Do-able. Even enjoyable. I like having him here. But do I think I can trust him with my heart? I want to. I think he looks after me the best he can but hasn’t he proven that he doesn’t deserve my trust?’

  ‘Does that mean he doesn’t get a second chance?’ asked Charlie. ‘If you want to give him one, that is.’

  ‘You’re being a pussy,’ said Sharon, down the phone, after Penny had explained everything to her. ‘Listen, lord knows I’m not his biggest fan. I was Team Thomas all the way. Well. Then I was Team Priyesh all the way. But if what Francesco says is true, my reasons for hating him on your behalf don’t stand up. You’ve already wasted too much time treading on eggshells with each other. It’s now or never! Team Francesco!’

  Penny felt sick as she listened.

  ‘You don’t get to tell me you’re scared, Penny, okay? You beat bloody cancer. You can tell a man you love him back. Because you do, don’t you? I can tell. I think you’ve been in love with him this whole time.’ Her voice softened as she said the last bit, knowing not to push too hard.

  Penny sighed dramatically. ‘You give tough advice, do you know that?’ she said.

  ‘You and Francesco could be really happy together. You just have to give yourself permission to trust it.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Penny. ‘That sounds terrifying.’

  19

  Havingley had, for inexplicable reasons dating back hundreds of years, always celebrated Valentine’s Day as a village event. The locals always looked forward to the street party and The Red Panda had, over time, become the unofficial hub of the events, which included fundraising stalls lining the road in front – which was pedestrianized for the occasion – an open-air performance from the am-dram society, and a variety of acts from bands old and new.

  It started out as a bright, if brisk, day. The air was cold but the sky was blue, and after the lull of post-Christmas and New Year drudgery it was nice, before spring came, to have a big event that broke up the wait for lighter days and warmer weather.

  ‘I always come back for it,’ Thomas had told Penny over the phone from Germany. ‘I’ll be there,’ he said. ‘I’ve been going since I was a little boy.’ Penny had called him to talk about Francesco, but she’d dilly-dallied over her words and he’d had to go before she’d explained.

  I’ll do it when he’s home, she told herself.

  Priyesh, unsurprisingly, had never attended the Valentine’s Day celebrations, but after Charlie had told him about it when he stopped by with some samples of a white wine he was drumming up springtime interest for, pledged to be there. Penny had wanted to tell him about Francesco, too. She knew the honourable thing to do would be to end her other relationships before anything further happened with Francesco, but he’d come right in the middle of dinner service when Penny had twelve guests in the private dining room and everyone had ordered a different starter.

  I’ll do it before the party, she told herself.

  Francesco had heard at The Boot that it was quite the affair, and he was excited as well. He’d spent the past two days making Italian sweets and pastries for one of the stalls whilst looking too long in Penny’s direction and smiling at her like they had some beautiful secret. They hadn’t slept together – they hadn’t even kissed since the morning they’d talked.

  Penny was nervous around him. Jumpy. She had all of these things she wanted to say but she wasn’t ready, yet, and Francesco could tell. So he didn’t push her, or goad her. He was patient, and it was an act of kindness Penny appreciated. He smiled at her often and occasionally lightly touched the small of her back, but otherwise let her arrive to her feelings in her own time. She knew he assumed she was finishing things with Priyesh, too, from the way he eyed up the bar area when he’d been in. He was basically being the perfect gentleman.

  ‘It gets rowdier than a rugby players’ changing room in here as it kicks off,’ Charlie had warned Penny as they set up. Penny was quite looking forward to it, though. It was nice to feel a surge in the sense of community. She might have missed London, but Stoke Newington never did a village event like this. Penny threw herself into it.

  By 3 p.m. the pub was buzzing and a light shower had turned into heavier drizzle, so the bands had set up in a small sliver of space down by the bottom of
Bar Four, near the fire. In a hurry, everyone had dismantled stalls and stands outside, and Penny had turned on the outdoor heaters so all the extra bodies could huddle under the shelter of the covered outdoor seating area, too. There were hundreds of people, and the rain was coming down heavier and heavier, but spirits were high and Penny was in the very best of moods. The high-spirits were catching.

  ‘Penny, love,’ one of the locals, Tim, said to her, a few hours into the celebration. ‘I don’t want to pry, duck, but it looks like the tiles over there on the outhouse are coming a cropper. You might want to get one of your lads to secure ’em down.’

  Penny followed Tim’s eye to the dusky skyline of outside. She saw instantly what he meant. The wind had picked up with the rain, and if she didn’t get out there and secure the roof of the old coal store, it wouldn’t take long before there was no roof.

  ‘You’re right. Thanks, Tim.’

  ‘Here you are,’ Tim exclaimed, on the approach of Thomas. ‘This strapping young man will help you.’

  ‘I will!’ said Thomas, already quite drunk. And then, ‘Hello, you. Help with what?’

  ‘Those tiles,’ said Penny, pointing. ‘Do you mind? It won’t take long, I don’t think.’

  ‘Lead the way,’ Thomas said, downing the last two inches of his pint and handing the empty glass to Tim. ‘Next round is on you,’ Thomas said, to which Tim replied, ‘And which round was on you?’

  Penny and Thomas weaved through the throng of people in the bar and outside, and as soon as they stepped out of the huddle and to the side of the building, the wind hit them.

  ‘Jesus!’ said Thomas, his voice smothered by the weather. Penny could barely hear him, and he had to shout. ‘Where did this all come from?’

  ‘It was so nice this morning!’ Penny yelled back.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ came a voice from across the car park, and Thomas and Penny saw Priyesh climbing out of his Land Rover. ‘You’ll get blown away!’ he said, and he was shouting, too.

  ‘The roof!’ said Penny, pointing to the small outhouse. ‘Wanna help?’

  ‘Sure!’ said Priyesh, taking off his watch and putting it in his pocket, pulling out a Barbour jacket from the boot of his car and slipping it on.