Unfiltered

by Sophie White

  ‘What about Ed?’

  ‘Ah, they’ve been going through the motions since he went off to do the master’s. I bet she just wants to make sure Sam’s up for it before dropping him. Ed’s a dope anyway. She shouldn’t have stayed with her third-year boyf. That’s the lesson here. Hot in third year is a totally different story to hot in his twenties. She basically picked a hot child in school and now, well, let’s just say Sam’s had the better glow up.’

  ‘Ick, yeah. D’you remember we all fancied Ed when he was, like, twelve? We were such pervs.’ The girl laughed.

  ‘Do you think Sam will get back with Ali?’

  ‘Yeah, Schmiddy told me that he said he wants to but he’s nervous about what everyone will say. Plus, he doesn’t want to do anything that might upset Ali ’cos of her being so far along. I think he’s pretty confused.’

  ‘Yeah,’ the other replied thoughtfully before suddenly shouting. ‘Oh my fucking gee, they’re playing “Lady in Red”!!!’

  There was a clatter of heels and handbags and then Ali was alone once more. She fixed her dress and slipped out just after them. She texted as she headed for the main door of the old house.

  LIV! Gleaned some great intel in the pisser. I love #OverheardAtWeddings ;) Turns out Shelly was right. These girls were saying Sam still likes me. Also, one of the WAGs fancies him which makes total sense ’cos she was super harsh to me after dinner. These schoolfriend groups are always so incestuous. Makes me thank fuck we were no-friend losers in secondary school. Gonna quit while I’m ahead. Coming home now for SVU and munch.

  Ali pushed through the heavy front door and down the steps to the gravel driveway leading to the car park, composing another message.

  Hey Sam, I couldn’t find you to say goodbye. Think it’s best I go after Paddy’s speech and some of the girls weren’t that happy I was there. I just didn’t want to make things awkward or tricky for you. I loved being there with you tonight. I miss us.

  She read it back carefully. She needed to get the tone just right.

  No, wait, I fucking don’t, she thought. No games, Ali, and she hit Send decisively.

  A phone notification coming from the shadows in front of the house jolted her and she whipped around.

  ‘Sam?’ she called. ‘Please say that’s you and not some serial killer or handsy-uncle type.’

  ‘It’s me.’ Sam smiled as he stepped into the pool of light streaming from the hall door. He was flicking his thumb over his phone. ‘So. You’re leaving?’

  ‘Well, I thought maybe I should.’ Ali shifted on the spot, hardly daring to meet his eye. She was suddenly hyper-aware of how alone they were. They hadn’t really been alone together since that clumsy kiss after the ultrasound scan. He was, she realised, still coming towards her.

  ‘I miss us too.’ He came to a stop right in front of her.

  ‘Really?’ The word caught in Ali’s throat. She didn’t want to show just how overwhelmed she felt at hearing him say it, so she kept her gaze focused on the tiny space that remained between them, a space her bump nearly filled.

  Sam ran his hand lightly over her hair and trailed his fingers down the back of her neck as he gently tilted her face towards him. He dropped his head to the sensitive place where her neck curved into her shoulder and breathed in deeply, hungrily almost. The heat of him and the tickle of his breath was tormenting her. She could feel herself revving up and she pressed herself against him as best she could, given certain obstacles. She willed him to touch her, kiss her. Anything.

  ‘Fuck,’ he breathed in her ear. Then he covered her mouth with his and pushed his tongue in and she moaned a little.

  ‘Shhh,’ he muttered but barely pulled out of the kiss.

  They continued kissing and Sam’s hands were tantalisingly close to her breasts. She loved the things he did to her tits. Goddammit, they had to go somewhere.

  ‘Sam,’ she whispered. ‘We’re kind of visible.’

  ‘Mhhmmmm.’ He barely stopped kissing her but began to push her back towards where he had stood watching her leaving just moments before. Now in the shadows, his hands roamed everywhere. He thrust his knee between her thighs to part them and then his hand was in her knickers.

  ‘I’m gonna come really fast, Sam.’

  Suddenly she felt Sam freeze. She opened her eyes. His horrified face was just inches from hers.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ She looked around to see if someone had caught them, but the front of the house was still deserted.

  ‘Your …’ A pained expression clouded his features. ‘Your boob is, like, hissing at me or something.’ He pulled his hand away to inspect it, leaving her boob loose where he had scooped it out of her dress. ‘It’s moist,’ he yelped. Abruptly he pulled his other hand out of her knickers to cradle the wet hand looking freaked. ‘You’re leaking.’

  Ali laughed. ‘Fuck off! That’s not even possible.’ She investigated the boob, which did feel not exactly wet but certainly sticky. Then she gave it a squeeze and nearly died of shock to see a vaguely milk-like substance come out of her tit. ‘Holy fuck!’

  ‘See!’ Sam sounded as gleeful as he was horrified. ‘I told you.’

  ‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been milking me,’ Ali retorted, grinning. ‘C’mon, it’s OK, just do what you were doing but don’t touch the boobs.’

  ‘I dunno.’ Sam looked dubious. ‘That’s going to be quite hard to come back from. Maybe it’s the baby’s way of cock-blocking me. It seems like a hostile warning.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake. It’s fine. The baby was loving it!’

  ‘Ali! Too far.’

  ‘OK, sorry. Look, the tits were just overexcited. C’mon, let’s just go to my car and nail this thing.’ She winked in what she hoped was at least in some way inviting and watched an agonising war wage across Sam’s face. He was clearly struggling with the pregnant fuck as a concept but also the tension between them was unbearable.

  She took his hand and pulled him to the car park. Fortunately, the other guests were probably still balls-deep in ‘Rock the Boat’ and the place was empty.

  When they got to the little battered Punto, the reality of boning in the car hit Ali. Shite. She could literally barely get into this thing in her current state, never mind perform sexual gymnastics in there. Afraid of spooking Sam further, she said nothing and crawled into the back seat, where they resumed kissing and began to grapple like a pair of frustrated eels.

  She couldn’t lie on her stomach, which was one of their faves. He couldn’t get on top. She tried to climb into his lap and actually managed to get a nice bit of gyrating going when Sam’s muffled, plaintive voice could be heard from somewhere beyond the crest of the bump. ‘Ali! Ali! I can’t … breathe. The bump is … like … attacking me.’

  ‘Oh shite, sorry.’ Ali dismounted as quickly as the belly would allow. Eventually, with all the logistics required to land a 747, they managed to get a position that seemed to work, kind of a sideways doggie style with elements of spooning.

  ‘It’s in.’ Sam was jubilant, before asking approximately 400 more times if she was sure this was OK for the baby.

  ‘Jesus, shut up about the baby. It’s barely sentient – it’s just sloshing around in there. Please just go a bit faster and a bit harder.’ Between the milky tits and him gingerly rutting away back there, it was doing nothing to make Ali feel less bovine.

  Finally, they seemed to settle in themselves. And the awkwardness and livestock vibes drifted away.

  ‘Fuck, I’ve missed you,’ Sam moaned into the back of her neck as he reached around to stroke her. She gasped into her hair strewn over the car seat as she tried not to make too much noise as she came. A few seconds later, Sam shuddered against her and practically roared ‘Fuuuuuck’ into her back.

  ‘Jesus, Sam!’ Ali laughed. She’d completely forgotten how loud and unhinged he sounded during sex. ‘Keep it together!’

  ‘Sorry, sorry, but fuuuuuck.’ He squeezed her gently. ‘That was good.’


  Typically, at that exact moment the baby kicked the place where his hand was resting on the bump.

  ‘Whaaa.’ He sprang back. ‘That had to be retaliation.’

  Ali grinned and sat up, her dress was half off and she pulled and twisted to try to rearrange it while Sam did up his pants. Eventually they both looked dishevelled but reasonably respectable. They sat in silence, staring straight ahead, flushed and slightly panting.

  ‘So …’ Ali eventually broke the silence.

  ‘Soooooo …’ Sam nodded. ‘Do you think we should, like, start going out again?’

  Ali gazed down at their knees nearly touching. He sounded nervous. His hand lay on the seat between them and he kept tapping his fingertips against the pad of his thumb. The frenzied tension had passed and now she felt a powerful wave of fondness for him wash over her.

  ‘I think,’ she began, then they both jumped as Ali’s phone buzzed loudly on the floor where it had landed in the comotion.

  ‘Shite, it’s Liv. I told her I was leaving ages ago. Hang on.’ Ali hit the green button. ‘Hi, hi, hi, sorry. I’m not dead. I’m still here at the wedding.’

  ‘Delighted to hear you’re alive.’ Liv laughed. ‘Why are you still there?’

  ‘I’m … eh … I got held up with Sam. He’s here beside me,’ she added in case Liv came out with anything controversial that Sam would hear.

  ‘Oh, OK, that’s good?’ Liv wondered mildly.

  ‘Yep, it was good. I mean, it’s good.’

  ‘Oh, fuck off, Ali. Is he, like, inside you right now? What have I told you about that?’

  ‘Shhhhh.’ Ali could feel giggles welling up inside. ‘He’s not, we’re done.’

  ‘Oh God, well, just go easy, Ali. You’re just about to crap a baby out with all the head-fuckery that entails. Maybe now’s not the time to jump back into a relationship that didn’t end so well the last time. That’s not the movie you’re in right now. You’re not in a romcom, ya know? You’re not Zooey Fucking Deschanel, you’re in some sci-fi horror shit right now. You’re Ripley with a goddamn alien about to plough out of your vadge any minute.’

  ‘OK, thanks. Love you too, byeeeee.’ Ali ended the call before Liv could get on any more of a roll. Still, Liv’s warning crept across the pit of her stomach, dampening the simmering excitement that had been bubbling just moments before. What if this wasn’t a good idea at all? She’d been so focused on getting Sam back that she hadn’t stopped to think about what it would mean if it didn’t work. What would it mean for the baby? Right now, she and Sam were able to be in the same room and be friendly but what if they got together only to become one of those couples who imploded and hated each other’s guts until the end of time? Suddenly she felt utterly drained. Maybe it was hormones but suddenly the thrill of the evening had leaked away and was replaced by a dreadful angst. She felt scared for the baby. For the future. All that uncertainty.

  ‘Ali?’ Sam was leaning over to catch her eye and Ali frantically scrolled through possible scenarios and outcomes in her head. ‘Hey?’ He waved a hand in front of her face with a playful grin, then he cupped her cheek and whispered, ‘I love you, Ali.’

  I love you too, she thought but couldn’t say.

  If she said it back, she was staking everything on this one person. On them loving each other for ever. And it wasn’t just about her anymore. She had to think of the baby as well. It was all too much.

  ‘I think I need to go home, Sam. I feel a bit overwhelmed.’ She tried to clear the lump from her throat and smile gently at him. ‘Maybe we should …’ She ducked her head, embarrassed. ‘Maybe we should go on a date?’ She felt uneasy. Was she just buying time? But no, if they took it slow, she could control her feelings and maybe that would keep her and the baby safe from any uncertainty.

  ‘A date?’ Sam sat back abruptly. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

  ‘No.’ Ali was defensive. ‘I’m just …’

  ‘Just what?’ Sam’s eyes were steely. It was like the day he’d read the thesis all over again. ‘Just a fucking game-player? Fuck you, Ali. You’re conning me again.’

  ‘Sam!’

  He started pulling his trainers back on. Only Sam would wear battered Reeboks to a wedding, Ali thought. It’s why I like him. He shoved his way out of the car.

  ‘Sam, please!’ she tried again.

  He turned back to her. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m just …’ Ali hesitated. She let the silence drag for a beat too long and Sam slammed the door shut.

  ‘I’m just scared,’ Ali said, but it was too late.

  She sat and cried in the empty car for a long time before she eventually managed to pull herself into the front seat to start the engine. She had no more tears, her throat was raw and a strange numbness had invaded her. She drove home carefully and burrowed into her bed without going in to Liv, as she usually would’ve done. Under the blanket in the darkness she cradled the bump.

  ‘I’m sorry. I think I’ve fucked it up with him. Again,’ she whispered.

  A foot or an arm poked her either in agreement or exasperation, she couldn’t quite tell. Probably both.

  Chapter 26

  A week later, Ali paced her tiny dressing room as the sound of the audience taking their seats beyond the door rose from a low hum to a wall of noise. The opening night of My So-Called Best Life had finally arrived, and it was already being heralded as the commercial hit of the festival. Ticket sales had been unbelievable, and they had even added matinees to the run when the original four shows had sold out.

  Every time Ali felt the churning terror start up at the thought of performing for a real live audience, she looked at the total sales on the website. Selling out a 500-seat theatre for eight shows was a tidy sum, even minus the overheads. She and the baby would be making out with a rake of cash. Plus, Terry had even said he wanted to donate his cut to the Baby Jones fund. Ali couldn’t believe how kind everyone had been: the whole of Dublin Insta was coming, and the Twitterati had rallied, presumably ironically but still, sales were sales, and even the theatre luvvies had been wildly supportive, probably because of Miles.

  Now, all I have to do is live up to all the bloody hype. Ali glared at her reflection in the mirror over her dressing table. The table was crowded with flowers and cards from Liv, Amy, Mini and even Shelly. She checked her WhatsApp thread to see if Sam had responded to her last message. She’d put a ticket on the door for him. The message was blue-ticked but no sign of a GIF or answer.

  Given how silent he had been since their botched car sex at the wedding, it seemed highly unlikely that Sam would come.

  When she’d related the incident to Liv and Amy later, they had all agreed she did not play it well and that Sam’s reaction was understandable. It would have been a cancelling offence if a guy banged his pregnant ex in the back of his car, then, instead of getting back together, suggested they go on a date.

  ‘Everyone would be, like, what a toxic asshole! Put him in the bin,’ Amy had mused.

  A knock on the door was Ali’s signal for ten minutes to curtain. She scrolled Insta to distract herself.

  ‘We’re at the opening night of @AliJones new one-woman show and cannot WAIT to see what she’s come up with,’ @CrystalDoorley was gushing on Stories, seated in the auditorium just down the hall.

  Oh God, the pressure! Ali sat at her dressing table to run through her little pre-show ritual, which she’d established before the first full dress rehearsal and was now too superstitious to abandon. She tapped the table three times, the mirror twice and knocked once on her chest, muttering ‘Miles, Miles, Miles’ as she went.

  She stepped into the corridor where Emma, the assistant stage manager, was ready to bring her to the stage.

  ‘Deep breaths, Ali.’ She smiled, adjusting her earpiece. ‘Full house out there. Even B13.’

  ‘Sam? Really?’ Ali couldn’t decide if this made her more nervous or less.

  ‘Yep, he’s there. We’re all rooting for you, pal.’ Emma squeezed
her hand and gave her the plastic urn for the first scene.

  Ali could feel the audience relaxing into the swing of things after Blake Jordan’s erroneous pregnancy announcement, which played out onstage with Real Ali seamlessly slipping into the role of Blake and delighting the man himself, who was sitting near the front, while Rational Ali begged Thirsty Ali to be reasonable. There were audible gasps and laughs at Thirsty Ali’s kamikaze decision to play along and pretend to be pregnant. Ali was so thoroughly rehearsed she found she could both stay in the moment onstage and simultaneously freak about Sam sitting in the second row. As yet, he hadn’t registered a single visible reaction to the play and she was tense as her reenactment of their meeting, when she told him she was pregnant, approached. It wasn’t written to be slapstick. If it was deprecating towards anyone it was her, but you couldn’t always predict audience reaction.

  Luckily, the spectacle of Ali lying to Sam in Grogan’s while Rational Ali begged her to see sense played out to horrified silence in the theatre.

  Thank God, Ali thought as the lights shifted for the next scene. She couldn’t have coped with them thinking it was funny while Sam sat right there.

  The following scenes of Ali’s misadventures in Instaland were lighter and the crowd was laughing in all the right places. But as the play drew closer to the climax in Miles’s hospital room, the tone palpably shifted, and many people were wiping their eyes by the time Real Ali stood in a lone spotlight cradling her ukulele in the wake of her father’s death.

  ‘So that’s the true story.’ Ali sighed. ‘I’m a villain. I’m a liar. I’m thirsty. I’m selfish. I’m flawed. I’m rational – sometimes. I knew what I was doing. I knew the potential for hurting a good person, but I did it anyway. And my punishment? I’m bigger than ever on the ’gram!’

  The audience laughed and she waved her hand as if to bat away the guffaws.

  ‘Jokes, jokes.’ She grinned. ‘My punishment is that I lost two people I loved, and I have to live every day with the knowledge that I didn’t treat them right.