by Clare Lydon
“Because I want you to have one — take it as a sign of my ongoing commitment to us.”
He was joking, I could tell from the lightness in his voice. But when he said it, he might as well have slapped me.
“We’re a couple, and I just thought you might like a say in what you wake up to every morning.” He turned his head and I could see my reflection in his black sunglasses. “But maybe I’m wrong, because you seem less than pleased about the prospect.” He paused, pressing on the accelerator as the traffic eased forward and a sign to Ikea hoved into view. “If it offends you that much, we don’t have to do it.”
I shook my head, clenching my toes, staring ahead at the clear blue sky. “No, it’s fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” I shrugged. “What to do with my impending summer holidays, that sort of thing.”
Like, become a lesbian?
Jake reached across and squeezed my thigh, leaving his hand there as he did.
I tried not to flinch, as an avalanche of guilt and mayhem slid down me.
I didn’t want Jake’s hand on my leg, on my anywhere. I wanted to scream and I was pretty sure that soon, I would.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He paused. “And if you don’t, we can always give you more work to do for Fit & Tasty. Wait till your students get hold of it, you’re going to be more of a superstar than you already are.”
I wasn’t sure I was prepared for that — a few of my students had already found the channel and had been over-excited about my role in it. And with ratings for the episodes starring Rachel and I going through the roof, it looked like my involvement was only going to increase.
We pulled into the packed Ikea car park half an hour later, and I tried to unlock the tension in my body as I got out of the car, rolling my shoulders as I squinted into the July sunshine.
Jake slammed the door of his black Nissan and walked to the front, holding out his hand to me.
I bit the inside of my cheek and put my hand in his, looking for all the world like just any other couple: care-free, happy, together.
Up ahead, a man and a woman walked hand in hand, the girl leaning in to say something, the guy laughing.
I clung to Jake, searching my mind for something funny to say to him, but it was blank. I couldn’t come up with a single gambit, my thoughts a blizzard of emptiness just swirling round and round.
Ikea was its usual cavernous self and stuffier than the car, pointedly reflecting my mood this morning: hot and bothered. It smelt of dust and wood, and the tinny background music did nothing to lift my spirits. All around, couples brandished tape measures, and stressed parents clutched hastily written lists while kids jumped on colourful sofas, the harsh strip-lighting glaring overhead.
Jake led me through the maze of showrooms, stopping to ask my opinion of a few bedside tables along the way. I gave vague opinions and he looked at me like he didn’t believe a single word falling from my lips, but he let it go.
We made it through to the warehouse and Jake was bouncing on the balls of his feet, peering at the number he’d keyed into his phone, trying to locate the tables he wanted.
“I can’t find it, can you see it on your side?”
I was peering at the lower shelves, but I couldn’t see them either. I shook my head.
“I guess we could see if that other one is around here — the one with the thicker handles. Did you like that as much, though?” Jake held my gaze from across the other side of the shelf.
“Yes, you can have a hot dog later, but Mummy has to get her things first,” said a woman behind me.
I turned my head, before focusing back on Jake and his expectant face.
Suddenly, it was all too much. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t buy a new bedside table with him, because it wasn’t going to be my bedside table, was it? This was the first decision Jake was going to have to make on his own, and he needed to know why. Doing anything else would be leading him on, and I didn’t want to do that.
I was tired of keeping it all in.
“Jake, we need to talk.” I frowned at him through the gap in the shelf. In front of me was a stack of floating shelves, and a woman with red hair elbowed me out the way with some force to get to them. I decided not to remonstrate with her: I had enough on my plate.
He smiled through the gap. “You’re taking this table shopping very seriously,” he said. “If this is wigging you out too much, we can stop for the day. Although maybe now we’re here, it makes more sense to get something. Even if it’s just a hot dog.” He grinned, but I could see the confusion in his eyes. “You like Ikea hot dogs. I’ll even throw in an ice cream afterwards because that’s the kind of guy I am. All heart.”
“I agree, you are the best boyfriend ever.” My heart was thudding in my chest. I was standing on a precipice, ready to jump, but Jake kept holding me back, offering me a safety net. I so wished I wanted to take it, to run into his arms, to let him smooth out my jagged edges, but I didn’t. “But you’re just not the best boyfriend for me.”
There, I’d said it.
I flicked my gaze up and stared across the gap in the shelves, into the eyes of the man I’d been with for the past 18 months.
I didn’t want to hurt him, but staying silent was hurting him, too.
Jake frowned.
“Did you hear what I said?” A shiver of dread ran through me, every hair on my scalp standing on end. Even though this was the right thing to do, it was never going to be easy. At the very least, I needed him to be able to hear me, so I didn’t keep having to repeat the words over and over.
Jake nodded, wordless, before looking down and putting his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.
“Why am I not the best boyfriend for you anymore?”
He was still standing on the other side of the shelving unit and, somehow, I couldn’t have choreographed this any better if I’d tried. Distance and a physical object between us at this stage was exactly what I wanted. Because if he’d reached out to touch me, if I’d looked into his eyes and seen the hurt up close, it would have been too much.
So this was perfect, even though I knew it wouldn’t last.
“It’s not you, it’s me.” Lame, I knew.
“Spare me,” he replied, walking around the shelves towards me.
Panic rose swiftly.
I wasn’t ready to deal with him yet.
Hell, I was barely ready to deal with myself.
He appeared at my side, his face hardened. “What’s going on? Why are you saying this? Talk to me and I’m sure it’s something we can fix.” He was trying so hard to understand.
I shook my head, the overhead lights seeming brighter than the sun outside. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
He bit his lip as he stared at me, his face creased with confusion, his grey eyes still the kindest I’d ever known. “I think there is. You can’t just tell me out of the blue in Ikea that you don’t want me anymore.” He paused, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Is there someone else?”
“No!” I said, my voice punching the air as I shook my head. “No, there’s nobody else. This is about me, nothing to do with you.” I touched his arm, and it was his turn to flinch. “Jake, you’re everything, you’re amazing. But this is my stuff, not yours.”
He eyed me now as if for the first time, trying to work out my emotional password, to say the right thing. “Look, if this is a freak-out about the tables, we don’t have to buy them. Let’s get out of here, drive home and we can talk about it there.”
I nodded, my emotions icing over. “Yes please to getting out of here.”
I turned sharply, nausea bubbling up inside me. I walked blindly, ignoring all the people and the noise, stumbling down the aisle, desperate to get out of Ikea. Out of this relationship.
A small child screamed somewhere behind me, but I didn’t turn my head. The waft of hot dogs drifted into my nose as we sidestepped the queues at the checkout, before I lurched outside, the sunshine stifling.
<
br /> Jake appeared at my side, his smile vanished, his expression crushed.
We walked across the sea of cars in deathly silence, the heat scorching my skin. It was lunchtime, but today had taken on a timeless quality.
When we arrived at the car, Jake unlocked it remotely with a beep. We got in simultaneously, sitting in the boiling interior without a word, the slamming of our respective doors sealing us from the outside world.
I sat still, not even daring to shrug my handbag into the footwell: all normal actions seemed fraught with meaning, as if doing it would say to Jake I was getting on with my life, so why wasn’t he?
But that wasn’t true: from the moment I’d told Jake I no longer wanted him to be my boyfriend, everything had changed.
Across from me, Jake raked both his hands through his wavy hair, shaking his head slowly. “Is this really it? Eighteen months together and it’s over, just like that? Is there nothing I can say to change your mind? Because I’m struggling here, Alice.”
He let out a deep sigh. “I woke up this morning with a girlfriend, and now I don’t have one.” He shook his head. “I’m having a little trouble getting my head around this.” He reached out a hand and put it on my arm. “Explain it to me at least, so I can understand. Otherwise, it’s making me doubt everything I thought I knew.” He looked at me. “Why am I not enough anymore?”
I swallowed down, selecting my words carefully.
I hated the pain that was filling up the car, stabbing at my skin, my heart.
I reached over and took his hand. I was beyond claustrophobic, but I was trying to keep it under control. “It’s not about you, Jake, as much as it’s a cliché to say.”
He snorted. “It’s a total cliché and you know it.”
My heart winced as he spoke. “I do, but there’s nothing more I can say. I was going to tell you this week, and I should have. But coming here today brought it to a head. I can’t buy a bedside table with you, because I won’t be the one waking up with it. You need to buy one you like, it can’t have anything to do with me.”
When I looked over, he was crying, wiping away silent tears from his face.
Which made me a monster.
“Jake, don’t cry,” I said, helplessly.
He sniffed, wiping away more tears. “What do you want me to do? React with no emotion at all? My girlfriend — who I love very much by the way — has just broken up with me out of the blue. There was me planning our future, but she couldn’t even stand the thought of buying a bedside table with me. I’m glad I never presented you with an engagement ring, because who knows what reaction that might have got.” He shrugged, banging the steering wheel with his fist.
I jumped, startled.
He turned to me. “There’s really nothing I can say? Your mind’s made up?”
I took a second, before nodding my head. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I really am.”
His shoulders slumped as he turned the key in the ignition, facing forwards. “Not half as sorry as me.” His voice was smaller now, defeated. “You coming home or do you want me to drop you off somewhere on the way?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead — this hadn’t been my plan today. “I’ll come home, pack a bag and get out of your hair for the weekend.”
As Jake drove out of the car park, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling.
But I’d done it — there was no turning back.
Ready or not, today was the start of a brand-new chapter.
Chapter 7
I wasn’t sure where to go with my weekend suitcase packed, suddenly homeless. Tanya? Probably. My parents? Perhaps. But none of them were perfect. First, I’d have to tell Mum why I’d left Jake, and that would be painful. She loved him and I couldn’t take the disappointed look on her face as she realised her daughter had let him slip through her fingers.
And then, wait till she heard the reason.
I wasn’t sure quite how my parents might react to the fact their youngest daughter was questioning her sexuality, but I guessed I’d find out soon enough.
My friend Tanya was the obvious choice, but Tanya went out with Sophie, who also happened to be Rachel’s flatmate. Plus, Rachel lived in Tanya’s block, too. Yes, I’d left my boyfriend and was facing up to the fact I wasn’t quite as straight as I thought, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to come face to face with the reason for my life crisis. And what if Rachel had no feelings for me at all?
More to the point, what if she did?
It was one thing to fancy a woman; it was quite another to go any further, to even consider the prospect of more. Kissing her? Getting naked with her?
I shuddered as the thought of kissing Rachel barrelled through me, catching me unaware and nearly making me topple down the Tube stairs.
I took a deep breath as I clutched the metal railing leading down to the Northern Line.
This was completely my doing and I had to take responsibility for it and face up to whatever it entailed. But first, I had to figure out where I was going to sleep tonight.
I made a decision and, annoying everyone coming down the stairs behind me, turned and rushed back up into the afternoon sunshine around Finsbury Park tube, the torn streets and scruffy air safe and familiar.
I hit the number and waited.
Sabrina answered after two rings. “Hey little sis, how’s you?”
That question was nearly my undoing, but I managed to hold it together. “Okay,” I croaked.
“No you’re not,” Sabrina replied. “What’s up?”
“I’ve left Jake.” Now I’d told someone else, it made it that bit more real.
“Shit the bed! I know you said you were questioning things, but this is a whole different ballgame.” Sabrina’s voice spelt surprise.
“Yeah, well now I’m homeless, so I was wondering — could I come and stay this weekend? And perhaps a little longer?”
Sabrina let out a long sigh. “Have you forgotten we’re having our extension done, starting on Monday?”
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “I had.” Shit, there went my safety net.
“So ordinarily, I would say of course you can. But what with me, Simon and Flavia all cramming in upstairs for the next few months, it’s probably not the best thing to do. Unless you want to see family life at its absolute worst, and I don’t want to put you off any future family plans you might have.” She paused. “But anyway, enough of my extension. I take it this was your decision after what you were saying the other day?”
I let out a croaky cough. “It was — I’ve fallen out of love with him, and I couldn’t carry on.”
“I didn’t realise it was that serious.” Sabrina cleared her throat. “Are you okay?”
It was the first time anyone had asked, but I couldn’t decipher my feelings, lying like confetti on the floor of my mind.
“I’m good — a little shaken, a little lost, but I’ll survive.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You could ask the parents, they’ve got a spare room.”
I winced. “I know, but then they’re going to want to know the circumstances and, you know.”
“You make it sound very mysterious.”
“Not mysterious, just… well, what we were talking about the other day might have something to do with my reasons, and I’m not sure I’m ready to tell Mum just yet.”
Another long pause. “Rachel?”
I coughed before replying, but my voice was still strangled. “Yes,” I said, my heart booming in my chest. If there was one word in the English language that was having a crazy affect on me at the moment, it was Rachel.
“Goddit,” Sabrina replied, not sounding one bit surprised. “But I think Mum would be fine. She has met a lesbian in her time and never reacted badly.”
“Yes, but I’m her daughter, which makes it different.” I knew enough coming out stories to know that much.
“What about staying with Tanya — doesn’t she have a fancy pad? Assuming it is Rachel w
ho’s thrown your sexuality into the air, and not Tanya. Because that would be very messy.”
I coughed again. “No, I am not in love with Tanya, and yes, she was my next port of call. She has a spare room, plus she’d be thrilled someone could be there for her dog.”
“Then you’re sorted, so long as she’s not having any building work done, too.” Sabrina paused. “But Alice?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you said anything to Rachel yet?”
Every muscle in my spine tightened. “No,” I replied.
“Then give it a little time. You don’t want to come running out of a relationship and fall sobbing into her arms. It’s not a good look.”
“I’ve been coming to terms with this for the past six months, maybe longer. I didn’t just decide this weekend.”
“Six months?” Sabrina’s voice had gone up two decibels. “I’ll park that for now. Just remember, it’s all new to Rachel, too.”
She had a good point. “I’m not going to rush over there and throw myself at her. Give me some credit.”
“You’re making rash decisions, so I need to double-check.” Sabrina paused. “You want to meet for a drink later? Simon’s out now, but when he’s back he can sit with Flavia.”
“Maybe, I’ll let you know. If I end up at Tanya’s, it might be tricky.”
“Okay, text me. But if not tonight, one night soon, yes? Especially because there’s so much to talk about.”
“Promise. And good luck with the building work.”
“Good luck with your rebuilding work.”
“Thanks, I might need it.”
Chapter 8
Tanya buzzed me up to her apartment, and when I stepped out of the lift on the 30th floor, she pulled me into a hug, eyeing one of her oldest friends with a mix of concern and curiosity.
When I stepped inside, her chocolate-and-black King Charles Spaniel, Delilah, began to bark, her tail wagging, running over to jump up at me.
“Hey Delilah, how are you, girl?”
I bent down to pet her, glad Delilah was there to take my mind off the memory that was pressing into my very core, threatening to overtake me: the previous week I’d been here filming the latest Fit & Tasty video with Rachel. Then, I’d stood beside her, asking questions while she chopped onions and garlic. I’d spent the whole time trying not to get too close, not to shiver on camera, not to transmit my feelings to everyone watching.
