Hot Desk

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘I miss your notes. I miss you,’ he says simply.

  ‘I miss you too,’ I admit. Glad to actually say the words aloud.

  ‘I’m glad you came, and I could explain everything. Thank you.’ His fingers linger by mine. Our little fingers touching, just the lightest of contacts that tells me he’s there for me. We’re there for each other.

  Reminds me that there’s something I should tell him.

  ‘Dave came in the office.’

  ‘You’re kidding? You’re not …’ His piercing eyes rake over my face.

  ‘He thinks we should get married.’ I can’t help it, I grin.

  ‘So it’s not over?’ There’s a sudden flash of doubt in his eyes that I want to chase away.

  ‘Oh it is. I told him I’d found somebody else, I had somebody.’ I look him straight in the eye. ‘You.’

  I’m not sure how I expect him to react. I don’t expect him to grin back, like he is doing.

  ‘Sorry, I had to say something.’

  ‘I’m glad I could be useful!’ He chuckles and we’re almost back to where we were before. Flirty, comfortable.

  ‘Er, there is one problem, other people might have heard. They might think…’

  He shrugs. ‘So what? Let them think. Hey,’ his gaze is soft, ‘don’t worry about that.’

  His tenderness makes me shiver inside. I talk just so I don’t have to think, to feel. ‘I was just fuming at the time. And I feel a bit sorry for him, I was always an easy option.’

  ‘You’re not responsible for his life, Alice.’ He puts his hand gently over mine, then lifts it away almost straightaway, but not so quickly that it feels like he wishes he hadn’t. ‘His happiness isn’t down to you, it’s down to him.’

  ‘I know,’ I say softly. Glancing round again, biting my tongue – or more accurately –my lower lip. Trying to think of something I can say. ‘I’ve, er, tidied our desk a bit.’

  ‘Why?’ He raises an eyebrow.

  ‘I thought you might not—’

  ‘Get it put back, or I’m moving out!’ He leans forward, kisses my cheek. The slight stubble brushes against my face. ‘I am sorry, you know. For everything, for not owning up, for fucking up, for not being that guy who you could carry on sharing amazing kisses with.’

  So am I. But I don’t say it.

  ‘If I could turn the clock back and be your festival guy and start again, I would. If I could pick anybody in the world to share with, Alice, it would be you. It would always be you.’

  I don’t have an answer. If I look back at him, I’m going to want to kiss him.

  I swill the last of my wine round in the glass. Reluctant to finish it. To end the evening. But all good things come to an end as they say.

  ‘Better be off, I guess. Can’t have strange women exiting your home after dark, can you!’ I say it jokily, trying to lift the atmosphere, and he chuckles back, but we both know there is an element of truth. An undercurrent we can’t escape. ‘Thanks for the wine.’

  ‘You’re welcome. You can get home okay?’

  ‘Number 27 bus, door to door.’

  ‘Handy to know.’ We stand up at the same time. ‘In case I need to rush over to put another lock on the door or anything.’

  I smile, then he surprises me again by resting his hand on my forearm.

  ‘I am here if you need me, you know. Persistent exes, nosey housemates.’

  ‘I think I’ve got it covered,’ I say softly. ‘I can be assertive if I need to, you know.’

  How did I go out with somebody like Dave for so long? He always decided where we went on dates, liked to order for me in restaurants. At first it seemed romantic, then after a bit slightly annoying. Now it feels like he was controlling me from the start.

  ‘I know. Well, ring me if you need me, yes?’ I nod. ‘Any time.’

  ‘And you ring me if you need a chat, or, you know, advice on handling toddlers. I’m ace at funny faces and balloon dogs!’ We share a tentative smile. It feels sad. It feels like he is standing on the edge of something, but I’m not invited. I want to hug him, I want to tell him how I feel, how much I’ve really missed him. Instead I land the smallest of kisses on his lips. ‘I hope you get it sorted. Keep me updated, eh?’

  ‘I will. I’ll be back in the office soon.’

  ‘Thank God for that, I was getting worried I’d never have Hobnobs again!’

  We both stand up, hover awkwardly. ‘Right, well.’ I head for the door, stop and turn before opening it. He’s right behind me.

  ‘Oh, Alice.’ He leans his forehead against mine, then cradles my face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t.’ I pull back. I don’t want our one perfect kiss to become a string of nearly kisses, of regretted kisses, of broken promises. ‘Let’s wait and see what happens, eh?’ I’d so much like to be irrational, stupid, impulsive. I really want to say, let’s snog, don’t stop, can I stay the night. Can I stay here for the rest of my life?

  No, I don’t mean that bit. That is just my weird fantasy.

  He kisses the tip of my nose. Then his lips brush over mine. The lightest of touches, but it still sends a shiver through me. ‘Thanks, Alice. For understanding, for everything. If this is meant to happen it will, won’t it?’ He shakes his head gently. ‘I thought you and me… I thought that night, that you’d be the rest of my life. You’d be everything.’

  I smile gently. Let myself touch his cheek, then I turn and walk down the path. Walk back towards the life, the space I’ve started to carve out for myself.

  And all I can think is that I want to share that space. I want to share my stuff, my thoughts, my hopes, my life. With him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘Some old woman came round to see you,’ Jack says as I walk through the lounge, not taking his eyes off the TV screen, or his thumbs off the game controller.

  ‘Old woman?’

  ‘Think she said she was creepy guy’s mum or something.’

  ‘Dave’s mum? Here?’ I stop, all nice ‘maybe one day’ thoughts being shot out of my head instantly. Although she’d have a fit if she knew she’s been called ‘old woman’; she’s Botoxed and root-refreshed to an unnatural degree.

  ‘That’s the one. Get out of my fucking shot, you moron!’ Luckily, I know he is talking to another player, not me.

  ‘You didn’t let her in?’ Did my ‘no-entry’ rule extend to friends and family?

  ‘Yes! Got you, you bastard.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘No, sorry, not yes to her. It was Harry answered the door not me, he had one of – Oh piss off, you have to be joking! – his big boots at the ready, no way was anybody who mentioned Dave’s name getting past him.’

  I am touched that my housemates are taking my request seriously. I nearly kiss him. But don’t.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. Shit.’ He drops the controller on the table in disgust, then turns his head to peer at me over the top of the couch. ‘You’re late, been out on the razz after work?’ He grins.

  I’m surprised he has ever noticed what time I come in and out, he is always glued to his game and barely grunts. Maybe I’ve underestimated the people I live with, as well as the people I work with.

  They’re quite nice, very nice actually. Occasionally annoying, but isn’t everybody?

  ‘Just a quick drink with a friend after work.’ I can’t help but smile back at him. It was so nice to see Jamie again, to know he is alright. It wasn’t me that scared him off. I haven’t majorly cocked up. It’s nothing I’ve said or done. Or my batty family.

  ‘Cool.’ Jack turns back to the TV, picks up the controller again. ‘Oh, the douchebag’s mum left something for you, it’s on the kitchen table I think.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He is already twiddling knobs; I don’t think he heard me.

  There is a bag on the table, quite a big bag. Oh shit, what the hell is it? The last thing I want is some romantic gesture. I’m tempted to just throw it away without looking.

 
But I’m not that person. I need to know. I’d be climbing in the wheelie bin at midnight trying to retrieve it. And anyway, if I don’t check what is inside, I won’t know which recycling bin to put it in, will I? And I do try and recycle efficiently.

  It could also be my stuff. Yes, that’s it! I bet he’s had a clear-out of his place, packed up everything I own that I left there and then sent her round with it because he’s finally got the message and is too ashamed of his behaviour to show his face.

  Haha, a likely story. I can’t remember Dave ever thinking he needs an excuse for the way he behaves.

  I look at it dubiously. I don’t think he ever let me leave more than a small carrier bag’s worth of stuff in his tidy place.

  The bag is quite heavy, but not heavy enough to be an incendiary device. His mum was always very protective of her fabulous son, who could never do any wrong. She could be lurking in the bushes and planning on blowing me up. Although with my limited, Netflix-acquired, knowledge of bombs – that would take quite a big one.

  I unlock the door of my room and put the parcel on the bed. Watching it as I walk around the room getting changed into something comfortable.

  It doesn’t move. It is just there. Unavoidable.

  I go downstairs and grab a glass and bottle of wine, put a pizza in the oven and go back upstairs. The bag is impossible to ignore.

  Inside is a box, a big flattish one, like the type you’d get long boots in. I slide it out, carefully lift the lid.

  White tissue paper.

  A note. David told me he was going to propose. How exciting for you! The you is a bit pointed – it isn’t exciting for her, as she was always hoping he’d marry somebody slimmer, prettier, more like her. I look forward to seeing you wear this, although you are a bit sturdier than I was at your age so may need to lose a few inches. Sincerely, Stella.

  I frown as I rip open the flimsy covering.

  White satin.

  There’s only one item of clothing comes in white satin. Shit.

  Masses of beads, no doubt carefully handsewn on. No wonder it’s bloody heavy.

  I feel queasy. It is a wedding dress. His mother’s wedding dress.

  Oh fuck! I can’t help myself. I start to laugh. He hasn’t told her yet!

  ‘Fucking hell, Alice! That was quick work!’ Sophie’s unexpected chuckle from behind me nearly sends me sprawling on top of the dress. ‘When I invited him to meet the parents, I didn’t think this would happen. And you, in white? What’s so funny?’

  I can’t breathe, I can’t speak, I think I’m hysterical. I point. She leans over and picks up the note.

  ‘Stella? Oh fucking hell, Dave’s mum, and she says sincerely? Who says sincerely? She is so up herself. The big mummy’s boy hasn’t told her, has he?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘I’ll go and get a wine glass, shall I?’

  ‘Yeah and grab my pizza out of the oven while you’re there, it should be ready.’

  ‘He is such a loser, who tells their mum they’re proposing when they’ve already been dumped?’ Soph pulls a funny face with raised eyebrows and it creases me up again. I lie back on the bed, trying to calm down.

  Soph comes back into the room a few minutes later, armed with pizza and plates.

  I have managed to stop laughing. I can breathe again.

  I look at Sophie. She has brought two plates as well as a glass for herself.

  ‘Bloody hell, Soph, it’s only a small pizza, it’s hardly big enough for one person! Me!’

  ‘Share and share alike, and, well, you have got to lose a few extra pounds if you’re going to fit in that dress.’ She sniggers and it nearly sets me off again.

  ‘Stop it!’ I lob a cushion at her – after she’s put my dinner down.

  ‘What are you going to do with it?’ She motions at the box with a slice of pizza. ‘Chuck it?’

  ‘Oh shit, I can’t do that. I mean look at it, it’s—’

  ‘Ancient?’

  ‘I was going to say beautiful and possibly worth a fortune.’ I say trying to be serious. ‘It wouldn’t be fair to throw it away, I can’t.’

  ‘The snotty cow would have a duck fit.’

  ‘She’s not a snotty cow.’ I sigh. Dave’s mum is very upright, very contained and controlled. Now I come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her laugh or do something silly or unpredictable.

  Which must be where Dave got it from. How come I have never seen him quite so clearly until now?

  ‘She looks down her nose at me. Oh, Alice, I’m so pleased you’re not marrying him.’ She wraps an arm round me and rubs her sticky cheek against mine – smearing me with tomato sauce.

  ‘So am I.’ I’ve been thinking while she’s been downstairs. ‘I’m going to drop it back at his mum’s and seeing as he hasn’t got the guts, I’ll tell her myself that it’s over.’ She is going to take it personally, she is going to be affronted, but I’m sure she will believe me. I’m also going to tell her the same lie I told Dave, that there is somebody else, to soften the blow. I don’t want to make Dave look bad in her eyes, a disappointment, it wouldn’t be fair. But I am not going to tell Sophie that, or she’ll get carried away and make a big thing of it. ‘He’s had plenty of time, and if he hasn’t got the backbone she still needs to know.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘When, what?’ I take a bite out of my own pizza, before it is completely demolished by my sister.

  ‘When are you taking it?’

  ‘Tomorrow. I need to get rid of it, but it’s too late now, and I’ve had a few drinks.’

  ‘Great. Oh,’ she goes to grab another slice of pizza and I slap her hand away, ‘only came to tell you that the parents are excited about me and Daz! No shit! They said something about broadening my horizons.’

  I think they meant they’d be glad for her to move out, but I don’t say that. ‘Ace.’

  ‘We’re taking the camper round on Sunday so you can all see it. Shit, is that the time, Daz is waiting outside. We’re going to this open mic thing and he’s got his guitar with him. I told him I’d only be a sec, but it’s like breaking into Fort Knox getting in here.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah, that Zoe answered the door, then she had to ask the guys if you were in. I thought she was going to frisk me or something.’

  ‘That’s on the way out!’ I say with a dark look. ‘To check you’ve not borrowed anything.’

  ‘Haha, you’re funny! Anyway, see ya, Sis!’ She leans in again and gives me a sticky kiss, honestly it is like having a five-year-old sister sometimes, then she drains her glass of wine and slides off the bed. ‘Can’t wait for you to see it!’

  I give her a thumbs up, and hear her clattering down the stairs, shouting out ‘hi’s’ and ‘bye’s’ to my housemates.

  There is one tiny slice of pizza left. I do not intend to lose weight, or get married, and I am famished. I need more food. Comfort food. I pick up my mobile. ‘Crispy duck, please, and prawn crackers. Yeah, fifteen minutes is fine. Great, thanks.’

  That will give me just enough time to jog down to the in-convenience-store and grab some snacks.

  There’s not much of the evening left, but what there is I am going to spend eating and watching TV. I am not going to give that silly dress a second thought.

  Or the fact that Jamie and Claire were at it hammer and tongs after our close encounter in the pub. As I suspected.

  Or the fact that he has a child and doesn’t want, or can’t have, a girlfriend.

  The dress is so heavy, so tight. I can’t breathe, so tired and hot and sweaty as Dave whisks me around the dance floor. My family are standing in a line, horrified, staring at the cobwebs that hang from my dress. I’m a modern-day Miss Havisham and I can’t escape. He’s holding me tight. The dress is musty, yellowing, strangling me. His mother is holding us both. Firmly, so firmly so we can’t run away, I can’t get away from him. ‘You’re too fat, too fat,’ she whispers in my ear. ‘It’s your own fault.
’ The band is playing louder, louder, faster and I’m spinning. ‘Ladies don’t eat pizza. Pizza, pizza…’

  I wake up in a sweat, panting and thrashing about wildly. Except I am pinned down.

  I am alone, but I can’t move. Panic hits again.

  And so does the band.

  I groan, stop struggling and flop on my bed. It’s my mobile, and I’m all tangled up in my sheets. I wrestle an arm free and take a few deep breaths before reaching for my phone.

  It lights up the dark room. Sugar, it’s not even midnight. How can it only be that time, and why is somebody ringing me this late? Something has happened to Soph! I start to panic again, then realize it is Jamie.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ I can imagine the frown on his face. ‘You sound a bit strange.’

  ‘Er, yes, hang on.’ Getting one arm out was relatively easy, but I feel like the rest of me is trussed up like a mummy. I need unrolling, I can hardly move my legs and have to drag myself up to a semi-sitting position. ‘Fine, fine, carry on.’ I think this is how a butterfly must feel trying to yank itself free of its chrysalis case. It’s no wonder they don’t live long, they’re knackered before they start.

  ‘It’s okay, it’s late, I shouldn’t have called, sorry, I…’

  ‘Jamie!’ I yell. Then wish I hadn’t shouted so loud. But he must not ring off. I don’t want him to go.

  ‘I just wanted to talk to somebody who’d understand and…’

  I feel a rush of feel-good warmth. We still have something, a connection, trust. We can work on the rest.

  ‘You weren’t asleep? I didn’t wake you?’

  ‘Oh goodness no, me, on a Friday night haha.’ Then I remember who I am talking to. ‘I might have dozed off, with all the wine.’ Dozed off? What am I talking about, I’ve been tossing about deliriously. ‘Has something happened?’