The Great Ex-Scape

by Jo Watson

  “No. I was with someone else who, well, let’s just say when his circumstances changed, I was no longer what he wanted.” She looked so sad in that moment and suddenly I felt desperately sorry for her. I could kind of guess what had happened; Enigma won, he scored some major record deal and was now banging someone far cooler than her, some up-and-coming rock chick covered in tattoos with labia piercings.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I actually meant it.

  She shrugged. “What can you do, hey?”

  “So why are you here?” I asked.

  “It’s temporary. I had nowhere to live, Alex had a month on his lease, so he let me stay here while I found a new place.”

  I smiled. That sounded like Alex. The guy who didn’t have a bad bone in his body, even when it came to people who’d hurt him.

  Then she looked up at me and met my eyes. “I lied. I know who you are.”

  “How?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “You were all over his social media pages. How could I miss you? Although your hair is considerably better in real life.”

  I nodded.

  “Don’t make the same mistake I did,” she said slowly to me.

  “What mistake is that?”

  “Letting the one good man around go.” She gave me a small look and then started closing the door.

  “Where can I find him?” I asked frantically as the door started closing.

  “St. Mary’s hospital is where he works.”

  Of course! Why hadn’t that dawned on me? “Thanks,” I said to her and turned and ran out the building.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  “I’m sorry, the doctor can only see ye next weeeeek,” the receptionist said in a very thick accent that I was struggling to understand.

  “Next week? But I need to see him right now,” I said, feeling frantic. I could see that my raised panicked tone had caught the attention of the taxi driver, who was now looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

  “I’m sorry, but the doctor is fully boooooooooked.” What accent was that?

  “But it’s an emergency!” I wailed down the phone.

  “If ye’re experiencing an emergency, perhaaaaps ye aught ta go down to the emergency room,” she suggested. Was she even speaking English?

  “It’s not that kind of emergency,” I said. I could see the taxi driver was really paying attention now.

  “What kinda emergency is it, luv?” she asked.

  “Um . . . I think I’ve . . . uh . . .” I looked up at the rear-view mirror and the taxi driver was no longer even trying to be subtle. He was blatantly staring at me. I placed my hand over my mouth and tried to whisper into the phone. “I think I may have something in there,” I whispered.

  “Sorry, what?” she asked.

  “I said,” I tried to whisper a little louder this time, still not too loud, “I think I may have something in there.”

  “Sorry, you need to speak up, dear!”

  “Fuck!” I glared at the taxi driver and this time he did look away. “I said, I think I have something stuck in there . . . you know. Up there!” I said that last part pointedly.

  “You have a rectal foreign body?” the woman replied coolly, as if she said this kind of thing all the time. She probably did.

  I cringed at the sound of it and wanted to die, but pulled myself together when I remembered the reason I was doing this.

  “Mmm-hmmm,” I mumbled. “I think so.”

  “You think so, or you know so? The doctor can’t squeeze you in for ‘I think so,’ ” she said.

  “Definitely!” I suddenly shouted. “Absolutely! Totally lodged in there. In there . . . so far in there . . . deep!” I hid my face in my hand as I said it, I could see the taxi driver had perked right up.

  “What is it?” the lady asked.

  “What is what?” I asked.

  “What is it that you have in your rectum?” Again with that cringey word.

  “Um . . .” my brain raced but I couldn’t think of a single thing. “Who knows!” I finally said, face-palming as I did. “Could be anything, really . . . Could be many, many things. You know how it goes?” I squeezed my forehead between my fingers and wanted to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from talking. But I needed to see Alex, and I’d do and say whatever I needed to do to make that happen.

  “Aaaaah, I seeeeeeee,” the woman said in a knowing voice, as if this had happened before. Dear God, did this happen?

  “So, that’s why I’d rather come to the doctor than go to the emergency room, if you don’t mind,” I said. “It’s a delicate issue, if you know what I mean.”

  “I understand.” I heard a page flap. “The doctor could see you now if you can be here in fifteen minutes?”

  “Perfect!” I almost shouted this last part down the phone and jumped in my seat with excitement.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Uh . . . my name?” But I didn’t want to give it to her. “Uh . . .” I looked around the taxi and outside and said the first thing I thought of. “Sally.” The sex doll.

  The taxi driver eyed me suspiciously. “Oh, keep your bloody eyes on the road and your ears to yourself!” I shouted at him. He finally had the grace to look away.

  After a few more minutes we finally pulled up to the hospital. I paid as fast as I could and threw myself from the taxi.

  “Good luck with whatever it is,” the driver called after me with a sarcastic smile. I wanted to run back and wipe it off his face, but I had more important things to worry about. I raced into the hospital, scanned all the doctors’ names on the board and once I’d located Alex’s room number, I rushed to find it. It was easy to find and soon I found myself standing in his waiting room.

  The room was full of people sitting around reading the paper. People looked up momentarily and then looked away, as if no one wanted to make eye contact, as if no one wanted to admit why they were here.

  I walked up to the counter. “Hi, I’m Sally.”

  The woman looked up from what she was doing. “The emergency patient?” she asked. Too loudly. I looked around to see if everyone was looking at me again . . . they were. You could only have one emergency in this kind of doctors room!

  She stood up and walked me towards a door. “Change into the gown and wait for the doctor, he’ll be through to see you soon,” she said.

  I walked into the room and looked around. So this was where Alex worked. Suddenly I was flooded with pride. Alex was a doctor. He worked in the hospital and saved lives and probably did it with a smile. The gown was hanging on the wall and I wasn’t about to change into it so I sat on the bed and waited for him. The door opened and the receptionist stuck her head around it.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? The gown,” she said, pointing at it.

  I stood up quickly and grabbed the gown this time, taking my clothes off and changing into it. It was one of those terrible bright green hospital gowns that open in the back. It was cold and I shivered while I waited for him.

  It felt like forever, but finally the other door opened. I heard the voice before I saw him. “So, Sally, I believe you have a bit of an emer—”

  Alex looked up and stopped talking. Our eyes locked and my God, he looked amazing. Truly. He was wearing a crisp white doctor’s coat. His name was smartly embroidered onto the jacket pocket. He had a stethoscope casually hanging around his neck and he was wearing a cute pair of glasses I’d never seen him in before. They drew even more attention to those gunmetal-gray eyes of his. His eyes . . . God, you could get so lost in them. Fall into them, swim in them, live in them and never want to leave.

  “Alex,” I said quietly to him.

  “Val,” he said back. His voice was cool. “Why are you here?”

  “Um . . . I’m here because I have this pain in my chest,” I said slowly. “I’ve had the pain for exactly three weeks now and it won’t go away.”

  Alex looked at me and sighed. “I’m not that kind of doctor. Maybe you would be better
suited to a cardiologist,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No. You are the only person in the world that can fix this pain.”

  “Why?” he asked, taking a step closer to me.

  “Because . . .” I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. “Because I think my heart is broken and only you can put it back together again.” A tear rolled down my cheek.

  Alex’s face softened somewhat and he took a small step towards me. “You came all this way to tell me that?”

  “Well, my article didn’t work so I had to.”

  He shook his head. “What article?”

  “The one I wrote about you. Didn’t you see it? You subscribed to the magazine?” I asked.

  “I lost my phone,” he said softly. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”

  I got up and walked over to him. “It’s you, Alex,” I said. “It’s everything about you. It’s your eyes and the way I feel when you look at me. It’s the way you smile and the way my heart skips a beat every time you do. It’s the way you make me feel about myself when I’m around you . . .” I paused and took a moment to wipe my tears a little, they were blurring my vision and I wanted to see him when I said this next part. “I love you and I made a terrible mistake.”

  “Really?” He stepped closer to me.

  I nodded. “I’m an idiot for choosing Matt and nothing happened with him, nothing.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Yes! With every single part of my heart, every single tiny fiber in my body and nerve cell and everything!”

  “That’s a lot,” he said.

  “So . . .?” The moment of truth had arrived. “Will you forgive me for being a total idiot and can you give me another chance?”

  Alex looked at me. I could see he was thinking, weighing things up. He didn’t say a word.

  “Oh God, say something. Please,” I begged. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest with anticipation. I took another step closer to him and then reached out and took his stethoscope. I put it in his ears and then pulled the cord towards me, placing it onto my chest. “Listen,” I said.

  “It’s beating fast,” he said.

  “And it’s beating all for you.” I placed my hands on his chest and moved closer to him. He took the stethoscope out of his ears and then I felt his hands on the sides of my face.

  “You kind of broke my heart a little bit,” he said quietly.

  “Then let me put it back together,” I said. “And I promise I won’t do that again.”

  “Promise?” he asked. He seemed so vulnerable right now and I wanted to hug him and tell him that everything would be fine and hold him and care for him and never let him go again.

  “Promise,” I whispered. I brought my lips all the way up to his and rested them there. “Besides, Sally misses you too.”

  I felt his lips smile against mine. “Really?”

  “Mmm,” I mumbled, dragging my lips over his. God, he smelt good.

  “I’m not into threesomes.” He took my lip between his and kissed it teasingly. “I’m too selfish. I wouldn’t want to share you.”

  “She could watch,” I offered, and then burst out laughing.

  “From the cupboard,” Alex added and we both laughed. “I lied, by the way. I just wanted to hear you say it out loud, I did see your article. It was beautiful.”

  “Then why didn’t you get hold of me?”

  “Because I realized something too when I read it.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I never actually said the words to you, so I never gave you all the information.”

  I shook my head.

  “I never actually said I love you. And I should have. And then I shouldn’t have walked away, I should have stayed and given you a minute because I could see what a strange and confusing moment it was.”

  “Really?”

  “So I bought a ticket to South Africa. I was going to fly there this week and barge into your apartment and fight Matt for you, if I had to.”

  I laughed and cried at the same time. “You were going to do that?”

  “Fight him to death if necessary.” Alex smiled at me.

  “I love you,” I said again and it felt so good to say.

  “I love you.” He kissed me softly on the lips and I melted. “By the way, I take it you don’t have a, um . . .?” He pulled away and looked at me pointedly.

  “NO! No,” I laughed.

  “So no need for me to—”

  “No need.” I cut him off. “No need at all. And for the record, there’ll never, ever, be any need to . . .”

  Alex laughed. “Noted.” He let go of my face and slipped an arm around my back. The gown was open and his hand immediately slid under it.

  “I never thought I’d be so happy to be wearing a hospital gown,” I said.

  “Me neither.” He slipped his other hand around me and into the gown. I moaned as his hands travelled down my back.

  “God, I missed you so much,” I said, finding his lips again and kissing them.

  And then he pulled away from me. “I have something for you.” He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. I watched as he opened it and reached into the coin pouch. “I found them in my room, and I couldn’t bear to leave them there.” He pulled them out and I immediately started crying.

  The green ribbons.

  I held my hand out for Alex and he reached for it. “Can we try this again,” he asked, “with new promises that we make to each other?”

  I nodded.

  “So repeat after me then: I, Val, do solemnly promise to enter into this relationship and never follow lists in magazines again.” I burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face at the same time as he tied the green thread around my finger, there was hardly anything left of the ribbon.

  “Yes,” I said, looking down at the ribbon on my finger once more. Only this time, it meant something totally different to me and I swear, I was never going to take it off again. Ever.

  EPILOGUE

  WhatsApp Group: Lilly’s Birthday

  Damien: Hey guys, I’ve added you to this group, please keep it private. I want to organize something special for Lilly’s birthday. And I’m going big.

  Annie joined the group.

  Val joined the group.

  Jane joined the group.

  Jane: Hey!

  Annie: Hey Dame.

  Val: Yay. Howzit?

  Stormy joined the group.

  Stormy: Hh,jf’pkhf’k q . . . dg . . . Hi

  Jane: Oh for God’s sake! Someone is going to need to help Stormy with this.

  Damien: I’ll add Marcus to the group and she can communicate via him.

  Annie: HAHAH!

  Val: You can’t see me, but I am rolling my eyes.

  Marcus joined the group.

  Marcus: Hellooo. This is me. Stormy. Not Marcus. But Marcus is typing, I’m just telling him what to say and he is typing for me. So it’s me. Not him. In case you are wondering. This is Stormy.

  Val: Hahah! Hey.

  Damien: I don’t think anyone will confuse you two.

  Annie: I hate to be a party pooper here, but I have one child trying to get at my boob and the other two look like they are about to eat the dog food, it’s dinner time here.

  Damien: Overshare.

  Marcus: Didn’t need to know that.

  Marcus: That’s me. Marcus. Not Stormy.

  Annie: Sorry, I forgot there were men on the group.

  Jane: As one tends to do . . .

  Damien: So, Lilly’s birthday . . .

  Damien: As you know, it’s been a tough few years, what with the baby thing.

  Damien: Lilly’s been a bit down, so wanted to do something really special for her birthday.

  Annie: Great idea!

  Val: Love it.

  Damien: But it’s a surprise and no one can tell her.

  Marcus: Oooh. Ooh. What is it? (That’s me. Stormy)

  Damien: I’ll let you know the
details closer to the time. But keep the first week of October open.

  Marcus: That’s like a million months away. You can’t keep us in suspense. Give us a clue.

  Damien: Okay . . . we’re all going back to the beginning. To where it all began . . .

  Want to find out more about Damien’s plans for Lilly’s birthday?

  Visit Jo’s website to find out how you can read a free bonus novella!

  www.jowatsonwrites.co.uk

  Love funny, romantic stories?

  You don’t want to miss

  Read on for a preview . . .

  CHAPTER ONE

  BAD TASTE IN WIGS

  Don’t ask me how the hell it happened . . .

  I could blame it on the vodka.

  Maybe I could blame it on JJ and Bruce. Maybe it was the strobing lights of the nightclub and the repetitive doof doof of the bass that triggered some kind of chemical reaction in my brain, causing me to go temporarily insane.

  Maybe it was my outfit (NOTE: Never let a drag queen dress you for an evening out). I was wearing a sequined blue thing that could barely be described as a dress, and the famous “Marilyn wig” which they’d brought out especially for me, God only knows why? I looked like a crazed, transvestite prostitute with bad taste in wigs. Maybe that’s why it happened?

  But what are the chances?

  To find a straight guy at a gay nightclub? Possibly the only one. And to find such a ridiculously hot one, who somehow knew my favorite drink and bought it for me all night long. Who kissed me like that on the dance floor and now had me pinned underneath him in the back seat of his car.

  I never did this.

  Someone else was half naked and sweating and moaning and grabbing at his tattooed shoulders. Someone else was licking Vodka Cranberry cocktails and sweat off his chest and having the best sex of her life—deliciously dirty sex—with possibly the hottest man that had ever walked the planet.

  He’d made me feel like the sexiest woman alive, and that, coupled with the fact that I didn’t know his name and would never see him again—all that strong alcohol helped, too—saw all my inhibitions fly right out the back window of his car. I did and said things I didn’t even know I was capable of. With my face pressed into the seat, I told him how I wanted it. And he willingly gave it to me . . .