The One Who's Not the One: A feel-good, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy
Page 9
‘I’ve been invited to the launch of some new bar off Carnaby Street. Do you want to go? It sounds nuts. It’s a forest. With tents and firepits.’
‘Sounds like a health and safety nightmare.’
‘Right? But there’s free food and drink and it might be fun. You could ask Harvey if he wanted to go…’ She stared down into her custard.
‘Why would I do that?’
Kelly rolled her eyes. ‘Why not? You like him. He likes you – don’t argue! You might, you know, have fun.’
‘Ugh,’ Cat said. ‘I hate fun.’
‘I know, darling. But you should try to have some anyway.’
Thirteen
Cat had spent the best part of a week telling herself there was no way she was going to invite Harvey to the launch, and then she’d invited him. As she’d known she would from the moment Kelly had mentioned it. It was near to the theatre, Cat had told him, which was why she’d thought of asking him. Not that he’d questioned it. He’d just seemed happy to hear from her and keen to see her again. She was trying not to think about it.
The opening was at seven, so Cat had got changed at work – out of the wide-legged black trousers and white shirt she wore at least twice a week – and into skinny jeans, boots and an almost sheer bright-pink shirt over a white vest, and then headed down to The Jack Horner, the pub everyone went to if they went for a drink after work.
She drank two glasses of wine there, while playing a game on her phone – and intermittently checking in case Harvey had to cancel – and then grabbed a black cab outside to take her down to Carnaby Street.
She was nervous. Which seemed ridiculous. It wasn’t a date, nothing was going to happen, it was just Harvey. And yet. It felt like a date. She wondered if Harvey thought it was a date. She’d have to tell him it wasn’t. Definitely not. She’d suggested they meet at a nearby pub since Cat didn’t know what the forest bar was going to be like, and it was only when Cat walked in she realised it was a pub she’d done stand-up in. They had a small room upstairs with only about eight tables. The floor was sticky and the windows were dirty, but it had been a good gig because… because it was the first time Sam had gone to see her perform.
She shouldn’t be there. She shouldn’t be there on a pretend date with Harvey. This was a really bad idea. She turned to leave, planning to text Harvey on the way to the Tube, but he was right there, smiling at her, a beanie on his head and a dimple in his cheek and Cat was screwed.
‘Hey!’ she said. ‘You came!’
* * *
The pub was small but not cramped and they found seats in the corner near the fireplace. Harvey pulled his beanie off and tucked it into the pocket of his coat, before running a hand back through his hair.
‘How was work?’ Cat asked him, curling her hand around the stem of the glass of wine Harvey had got her. She’d better not have another in the next place. Three was plenty. Probably.
‘Day off today,’ Harvey said.
‘What? But that was the whole point! That you were only across the road.’
And yet he’d come anyway, Cat thought.
‘Well.’ Harvey fiddled with the label on his bottle of beer. ‘If I had been in work, I wouldn’t have been able to come. Because I’d have been working.’ He smiled.
‘Oh,’ Cat said. ‘Oh yeah. I didn’t think of that. So have you come far?’ She hoped that didn’t sound like she was angling to know where he lived. Even though she totally was.
‘No, just Marylebone. It’s like a fifteen-minute walk.’
‘You live in Marylebone?’ Cat asked.
He nodded, picking up his beer. ‘It’s not my place. I’m flat-sitting for a friend.’
‘A rich friend?’
Harvey smiled. ‘Pretty much, yeah.’
‘Wow.’
They finished their drinks while Cat told Harvey just how much Arnold had been talking about him since the theatre tour.
‘He asked me if we could go to every show,’ Cat said.
‘I mean, that could be arranged.’ Harvey pulled his coat on and held Cat’s fake leopard jacket out to her. She took it and shrugged it on and followed him out of the pub.
The launch wasn’t hard to find. Two streets away and signposted by an enormous tree apparently growing out of the front of the building. Cat gave her name to the bouncer and he ticked her off a list, ushering the two of them inside.
‘Woah,’ Harvey said, shrugging off his coat again.
‘So it really is a forest,’ Cat said, passing her coat over into the cloakroom along with Harvey’s.
The space was filled with trees, hung with lanterns and fairy lights, tables curling around their trunks. A fire pit ran down the centre of the room with metal buckets of marshmallows and toasting forks hanging from the sides. The bar at the far end was already rammed, but more buckets were dotted about, filled with ice and beers and Cat spotted a few people wandering around with trays of wine. She decided to have just one more glass.
Once they’d grabbed their drinks, they walked through the trees to a small clearing with armchairs and another, smaller, fire pit. They sat down and Harvey said, ‘This place is mad.’
‘Right? Arnold would love it actually. He loves trees and actually also fire. We’re trying not to read anything into it.’ She smiled.
‘We?’ Harvey frowned.
‘Me and Kelly.’
‘Right.’ Harvey drank some of his beer. ‘So Kelly helps you with him?’
Cat blinked. She was on her fourth glass of wine, yes, but she definitely seemed to be missing something.
‘I help Kelly. When I can. And she’s pregnant again and pretty sick, which is why…’ Something slowly fell into place in her brain and it obviously occurred to Harvey at the same time because his eyes widened and even in the low light, Cat could see his cheeks had turned pink.
‘He’s not yours?’ Harvey said at the same time as Cat said, ‘You thought he was mine?’
‘God, I’m so embarrassed,’ Harvey said. ‘You never said. And I just assumed—’
Cat shook her head. ‘No, it’s my fault. I should have said. I just didn’t think.’
Cat drained the rest of her wine, as another realisation dawned. Harvey had thought that Arnold was her son. Her five-year-old son.
‘So if you thought he was mine,’ Cat said, ‘does that mean you also thought…’
‘Um,’ Harvey said. ‘Yeah.’
‘But you didn’t mention that to Sam, right?’
‘No!’ Harvey said. ‘God. No. I haven’t even told him that I’ve seen you. I mean, he knows you came to his show.’
‘God,’ Cat said.
The problem with being in a small clearing in a fake forest is that there was no one to top up your wine.
‘And, ah, what did he think about that?’
‘About you coming to the show?’
Cat nodded.
‘He was pleased. I think? He said he wished you’d hung around. It would have been good to see you.’
‘Right,’ Cat said. ‘OK. That’s… thanks for telling me.’
‘I really am sorry,’ Harvey said.
‘It’s fine,’ Cat told him.
But it wasn’t, not really. They stayed a little longer, but they never managed to recover their earlier ease. Conversation was stilted and awkward, while Harvey repeatedly apologised and Cat tried not to think about Sam. Seeing Sam. Talking to Sam. And Harvey thinking that Arnold was Cat and Sam’s kid.
It was the worst fake date she’d ever had.
Fourteen
Cat had woken up feeling like shit. Too much wine. Not enough food. And the awkward conversation and disappointing evening had put her in a filthy mood. There was no milk again and Georgie had left the kitchen in a complete mess, which made her feel even worse. And then she’d found a postcard her dad had sent and someone had tucked away down the side of the breadbin. All it said was ‘Give us a call, eh?’ but it made her feel guilty for not having called him back already and
furious that she lived with people who didn’t seem to have any sense of consideration at all.
She’d stopped for coffee on the way to work – getting an extra shot and a muffin for the sugar – and had announced to the office that she felt like shit and they should all keep away.
Fortunately, no one was that bothered. They all had their own work to do and Colin was over in the Soho Square office sorting shit out with Nick.
Cat finished the VAT Returns she’d been putting off, actually did come up with a way to streamline the invoicing, and was wondering about chasing some client accounts when the door buzzer went.
‘There’s a reception,’ Cat said to no one.
‘Not today,’ Phil said from the desk behind Cat. ‘Receptionist is off sick. There’s a sign. Didn’t you notice?’
Cat had actually been playing the dot game on her phone, so no, she hadn’t noticed. And she was nearest to the door. Sighing, she got up and answered the entry phone.
‘I’m, ah, looking for Cat Gardner?’
For a second, Cat thought it was Harvey and something fluttered in her chest. But then she realised.
‘Sam?’
‘Yeah. Is that you? Cat?’
‘Yeah. This is me. I mean it’s me, Cat. I’ll buzz you up.’
Cat wanted to run to the bathroom to see how she looked but she knew there wasn’t time. And she also knew she looked like crap. She hadn’t had time to shower this morning because she’d woken from a dream where she was having a threesome with Harvey and Ariana Grande of all people and she’d spent the next half an hour trying to get back to sleep and, when that failed, trying to recreate the dream in her imagination. Also there was the whole ‘feeling like shit’ thing.
The door opened and there was Sam. For the first time in five years. Just… standing there.
‘Hi,’ Cat said.
He looked exactly the same. He was even wearing the same jacket: a black bomber Cat had spotted one day in Camden market. He had a long, dark red scarf wrapped around his neck and he unwound it while he glanced around the office.
Cat was already flustered enough to see Sam in her office and wasn’t even going to think about the fact that he knew where to find her, that she was exactly where she’d been when he’d left. Her life hadn’t moved on at all.
‘Is everything OK?’ Cat asked.
What if he’d come to tell her something had happened to someone. His mum. Or Harvey. Cat’s stomach churned and she wanted to sit down. What if something had happened to Harvey? But then if something had happened to Harvey, Sam wouldn’t come to see her. Because he didn’t know she’d seen Harvey.
‘Can we talk?’ Sam asked. ‘Like… is there somewhere…’
Cat shook her head. ‘Let’s go and get a coffee.’
She grabbed her coat off the hook next to the wall.
‘I’m going out,’ she told Phil. ‘If Colin comes back…’
‘No worries,’ Phil said, without looking up.
* * *
Cat and Sam walked out of the building in silence.
‘There’s a place just at the end of the road,’ Cat said.
The coffee shop was small and shabby but Cat had been there before and the coffee was decent. She got a latte for herself and an Americano for Sam without asking. She carried them both over to the side table and added sugar but no milk to his.
‘You still take it the same, yeah?’ she asked him, as she sat down, pushing his coffee across the table towards him.
He nodded. ‘Thanks.’
Cat stared at him. She hadn’t seen him for five years. Three years longer than they’d been together. He still looked the same. He looked good. But five years was a long time. She couldn’t quite think of him as the man she’d fallen in love with, had really great sex with, the man she’d thought she might spend the rest of her life with until he’d fucked off to Australia and left her behind.
‘So my mum is freaking out about something,’ he said. ‘And she told me and now I’m kind of freaking out too.’
‘I haven’t got a kid,’ Cat said.
Sam’s eyebrows shot up instantly. ‘How did you—’
‘Harvey didn’t tell you?’ Cat asked.
Sam shook his head. ‘Tell me what?’
‘He… I didn’t realise he thought Arnold was mine. But I told him. Last night. He didn’t—’
‘You talked to Harvey last night?’ He was turning his cup round and round on the table. Five years ago she would have reached out and stilled his hand, but she couldn’t do that any more.
‘We went to the launch of a bar. Just… we’re friends. Sort of.’
Sam shook his head, his eyes narrowed in confusion.
‘You and Harvey aren’t…’
‘No!’ Cat said. ‘God. No, of course not. I bumped into him at your… your gig. And then again in John Lewis when I was taking Arnold to the grotto. Arnold is Kelly’s son. I didn’t even realise Harvey thought anything else.’
‘Mum said something about Harvey’s theatre?’
‘Yeah. When we bumped into him, he offered us – me and Arnold – panto tickets. I was going to give them to Kelly actually, but she’s pregnant again and she’s sick, so I took him. And then she was invited to this launch – she gets loads of free shit for her blog – and I invited Harvey cos it was near his theatre and as like a thank you cos he was so great with Arnold. Arnold’s in love with him. And then he asked me about him – Harvey. Asked me about Arnold. I hadn’t even thought that he might think…’ She shook her head. ‘And that’s it.’
‘Right,’ Sam said. ‘So he’s Kelly’s.’
‘He’s Kelly’s.’ Cat picked up her latte.
‘Not yours.’
She shook her head. ‘Not mine. And not yours.’
‘Right,’ Sam said. ‘OK. Good. I didn’t think that you would have—’
‘I wouldn’t,’ Cat said. ‘No way. There’s no way I wouldn’t have told you.’
‘That’s what Mum said. But we were both just… you know.’
‘Yeah,’ Cat said. She put her latte down again. Her hands were shaking. ‘How did your mum even know about Arnold?’
‘Harvey told her.’
Cat shook her head. ‘Why would he—’
‘I don’t think he intended to. He was worried about it. I think he just wanted to know if she thought it was possible. And I’m sure he didn’t expect her to tell me.’
‘Right,’ Cat said. She kind of wanted to strangle Harvey. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t told her last night that he’d got his mum all worked up too. But then that would’ve made it even more awkward than it already was.
‘It’s good to see you,’ Sam said into his cup. ‘I wanted to see you. When Harv said you came to my show.’
‘Yeah,’ Cat said. Her throat felt tight. She didn’t trust herself to speak without crying. She’d thought she and Harvey were becoming friends. Apparently not.
‘What did you think?’ Sam sipped his coffee, winced, and then blew across the surface of the dark liquid.
‘It was good,’ she managed to squeak out.
‘And you didn’t mind that… you know?’
Cat sucked in a long breath. ‘That it’s about me? Part of it?’ She shook her head. ‘Your life’s yours to write about. We agreed that.’
Sam nodded. ‘I appreciate it.’
Cat drank some of her coffee, feeling it warm through her chest.
‘How long are you back for?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Indefinitely, I guess. I’ve got a few gigs set up.’
Cat blinked in surprise. She’d been assuming he was just back for gigs, not permanently.
‘What happened to Australia?’
‘It was great,’ Sam said. ‘It’s been brilliant for me. I mean, I meant to stay a year and I stayed five. But I feel like a change of scene. And I miss the family. And just, you know, home.’
Cat nodded. It must be nice. To have a home to come back to. And a family. She had Kelly and Sean
and Arnold, but it wasn’t the same. They weren’t really hers.
‘What are you doing for Christmas?’ Sam asked.
‘At Kelly’s. She’s pregnant again. That one’s not yours either.’
Sam laughed. ‘That’ll be nice.’
Cat nodded. It would be. It always was. ‘Is your mum doing a whole…’ She wafted her hand. Jan loved Christmas and prepared for it months in advance. The one Christmas Cat had spent with them had been one of the best of her life. Seemingly endless mince pies and wine, party games, evening walks in the freezing cold air, everyone laughing and just… loving each other. It made Cat’s heart hurt to remember it.
‘Course she is.’ They smiled at each other. ‘Harvey said you’re gigging again,’ Sam said.
Cat smothered a groan. Why had she said that? She had no intention of doing stand-up again. She hadn’t wanted to do it since Sam had left.
‘I’m not,’ Cat said. ‘It’s just something I was—’
‘You should,’ Sam said. ‘You were good. I can’t believe you ever stopped.’
Cat looked down at her hands curled around her coffee. She wanted to ask Sam why he’d left. Why he hadn’t asked her to go with him. Was she so easy to just walk away from?
Instead she said, ‘It just wasn’t fun for me any more.’
Once they’d finished their coffees, they walked back towards the office and Cat thought about how surreal it was that she couldn’t reach out and take his hand like she would’ve done in the past. How they used to be in love and now they were basically strangers.
‘Sorry again,’ Sam said, standing outside Cat’s building. ‘I shouldn’t have—’
‘It’s OK,’ Cat said. ‘Obviously you’d want to know if…’
‘Yeah.’
They stared at each other.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Cat said.
Sam nodded. ‘Course.’
‘Am I a cat or a pigeon?’
Sam let out a bark of laughter. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously!’ Cat said. She wanted to shove him. ‘I don’t think either of them fit me so I was confused.’
Sam laughed again, rubbing one hand over his mouth. ‘I mean, if neither of them fit, maybe you’re neither.’