A Beginner's Guide To Salad

Home > Romance > A Beginner's Guide To Salad > Page 17
A Beginner's Guide To Salad Page 17

by Jennifer Joyce


  TWENTY-FIVE

  Jared

  The weekends were the worst time for Jared. While most people looked forward to the break, for Jared it meant he had more time to sit around and think of Frances, remembering the good times they’d had. And there were good times, many of them. He met Frances when he was seventeen and his dancing career, like his ankle, was shattered. Jared had slumped into depression because what had been the point of it all? The constant bullying, the training and arduous rehearsals had all been for nothing. He may as well have hung out on the streets with the other kids, getting pissed on cheap cider and copping off with girls. Girls hadn’t featured much in Jared’s life yet, partly because they all assumed he was a twinkled-toed poof but mostly because of his gruelling schedule. There was one girl, when he was fifteen, but she soon dumped him when the taunts about having a fairy for a boyfriend became too much. Jared didn’t blame Janine – he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of the taunts and at least she’d let him cop a feel during the three months they were together.

  There had been a few girls at college, where it didn’t matter how different you were. The girls at college thought it was cool that he was a bit ‘out there’ and didn’t follow the crowd and in the end Jared lost his virginity at a house party. Several house parties followed with similar results but he never found anybody special and then the accident happened, destroying his dance aspirations, and he didn’t care about anything anymore, not even girls.

  Frances changed all that in an instant. Jared first spotted her in the college canteen, laughing with a couple of other girls as they ate their lunch. The other girls hid their mouths with their hands as they giggled but Frances was unabashed, her head thrown back as the laughter pulsed from the very depths of her chest. Her brown curls shook and her mascara ran as she tittered, now clutching her aching stomach. Frances swept a finger under her eyes to remove the tears of mirth and stray mascara and she said something to her friends, setting herself off with the giggles once more. Jared was mesmerised. Here was a girl who loved life while he detested everything about it. She found such joy on a normal Tuesday afternoon that Jared began to wonder whether he was wrong and that there was more to life than ballet.

  Jared had become quite confident with girls since starting college. They seemed to find him attractive and hung onto his every word, so it was easy to saunter over to the table and plonk himself on an empty seat opposite the curly haired girl. She was even prettier up close with pale skin and rosy cheeks and when she spoke Jared noticed a cute little gap between her front teeth.

  ‘Can we help you?’

  ‘Hi. I’m Jared.’ He stuck his hand across the table and the girl eyed it for a moment before taking it and giving it a brief shake.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Jared. I’m Frances and this is Cara and Melody.’ She indicated the other girls around the table. Jared had paid little attention to them so far, but he said hello out of politeness before leaning in towards Frances, watching her eyebrows rise ever so slightly and the corners of her lips twitch.

  ‘I was wondering what was so funny.’

  ‘Ah.’ Frances folded her arms across her chest. ‘I couldn’t possibly share that with you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It was part of a private conversation.’ Frances gathered up her tray, her friends following suit. ‘Bye, Jared. See you around.’

  Jared was hooked from that moment on and his obsession with dance was replaced with an obsession with Frances Bunton. He sought her out in the canteen, found out what classes she took and which pubs she frequented. Frances was in the first year of a childcare diploma and had a part-time job at a café in town. Jared drank more coffees than he would ever be able to count as he sat in that dingy café, hoping to catch a minute of Frances’s time. Years later she would admit that she noticed every single visit Jared made to the café, though she did her best to avoid him, sending another waitress to his table whenever possible. Frances fancied the pants off Jared – all the girls did – but Frances had a boyfriend. She’d been with Martin since they were thirteen and although her feelings had thawed after the first flush of first love, she couldn’t imagine ending their relationship and breaking Martin’s heart. He was her first love and she cared about him a lot.

  ‘You must be mad,’ Cara told her on many occasions. ‘Jared is hot and Martin is, well, Martin.’

  ‘You don’t know him like I do,’ Frances would point out and Cara would thank a God she didn’t quite believe in for that. Martin was freckled, a bit podgy and had about as much charisma as a soggy dishcloth. The thought of a naked Jared sent shivers up her spine while the thought of a naked Martin made her shudder. She doubted any girl other than Frances fancied Martin, but Cara was wrong. Dull, podgy Martin, loyal and faithful boyfriend and best friend to Frances, was caught with his hand up another girl’s skirt at a party with no explanation other than he was drunk. Drunk or not, Frances was hurt, humiliated but most of all furious. How dare he do this to her? Temptation had been thrown at Frances from every direction since she’d started college, but she’d never even thought of acting on it.

  ‘I’m sorry, babe. I am. But don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit? It’s not like I had sex with her.’

  ‘You would have if I hadn’t caught you.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t have, I swear.’ Martin was a terrible liar, his glowing ears a dead giveaway and in that moment, as his ears lit up the room, Frances wondered whether he had always looked this ridiculous and unattractive.

  ‘Go back to your little tart, Martin. You may as well finish the job because we’re over.’ Threading her way through the crowds in search of Cara or Melody, Frances bumped into Jared and a wicked thought crossed her mind. If Martin could have a fumble with some random girl, why couldn’t she have a fumble with a random guy? Jared obviously liked her and she was no longer spoken for. Before she could change her mind, Frances acted on impulse for possibly the first time in her life and pulled Jared’s lips towards her own. It was Frances who led them upstairs to find a vacant bedroom, who pushed Jared down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, her fingers undoing his jeans and sliding them down his thighs. Frances had never had a one night stand before but then sex with Jared was never to be a one-time thing. From that moment on they were inseparable and Jared believed they would be together forever.

  It pained Jared to remember his time with Frances but he also knew he could never let go completely. He had loved her so much and the feelings lingered on, caught in a time warp, refusing to abate. They were supposed to be married by now with a house full to the brim with children, but Jared lived alone in a one-bedroom flat, wishing his weekends away so he could be back at work with his mind occupied on anything other than painful memories. At least it was Sunday, which meant he would be visiting his family and there would only be a matter of hours where he was left to his own devices before he could head into work again.

  Jared dragged himself out of bed and poured himself a bowl of cornflakes, which he ate in front of the television. He thought about heading to the gym to work his memories away but it was already late in the morning and his mum would be expecting him. She still worried about Jared, despite his life being back on track now, so he finished his cereal, jumped into the shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before climbing into the car. His parents lived on the other side of town, close to where he and Frances had lived, which brought yet more memories to the surface. Their first home together had been a shitty little bedsit riddled with damp and the odd mouse but it didn’t matter. Frances didn’t care that the curtains didn’t quite meet in the middle and their sofa was old and lumpy and the central heating only worked every other day. It was their home and it felt like a palace.

  Jared tried to push the thought away but it clung to him. They’d grown to love that shitty bedsit and it had been a wrench to leave it, even when they’d secured a mortgage on a lovely little two-bedroom house with a tiny patch of grass a
t the back that Frances planned to transform into a floral wonderland. Thinking about that house and the potential it proposed was one of the most painful memories he possessed. Instead, Jared concentrated on the radio, singing along to occupy his mind until he turned into his parents’ street and pulled up outside the house. He was the last to arrive as usual, with Ally and Freya already gossiping in the kitchen while Gavin watched a football match with Bob, both on the edge of their seats, cans of lager in hand. Jimmy was sprawled on the sofa, earphones plugged in to drown out the cheers and jibes over the match while she concentrated on her homework. Jared lifted her feet and squeezed onto the sofa.

  ‘I should warn you.’ Bob leant even further over the edge of his armchair towards Jared, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘Your mum’s been to the bingo with your aunty Sheila this week.’

  Jared closed his eyes with a groan. ‘How long is the list?’

  Bob gave a sad shake of his head. ‘Longer than ever. Won’t it be easier if you just said yes to one of them? It might get her off your back.’

  ‘No, Dad. It’ll only encourage her to keep setting me up with women. Can’t you have a word? Tell her to stop?’

  ‘I’ve tried son, I really have. Yes! You beauty!’ Bob’s eyes darted from his son’s pleading face to the television screen where Manchester City had just scored. ‘Did you see that, Gavin?’

  Despite Jared’s preparation, it was still torture as Linda rattled off a list of potential suitors over lunch. Jared let the names waft over his head, not interested in Mavis Longbottom’s granddaughter or Nelly Winters’ niece or the nice girl who works at the bar at bingo. He said no to every name, ignoring the disappointment clouding his mother’s eyes. His sisters were next, reeling off their own lists but again Jared declined them all. Why couldn’t they understand he wasn’t ready? That he may never be ready to start dating again?

  ‘How’s it going with the girl from work?’ Jared and Gavin were alone in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes after lunch. ‘The being friends thing?’

  ‘It’s going great.’ Jared smiled as he thought of Ruth. She’d finally agreed to emerge from the women’s gym, although she hadn’t liked the weights room. She had agreed to try one of the classes though and Jared was looking forward to it. ‘It turns out we can only be friends anyway. She’s got a boyfriend. I had no idea as she’s never mentioned him before, but they live together.’ Jared had tried to ignore the searing pain in his gut when he’d dropped Ruth off at home and saw them kissing outside her house, arms thrown around each other as they laughed about something or other. It was good that she was happy and settled – something Jared could never offer her.

  ‘I suppose it takes the pressure off then.’

  Jared handed Gavin a plate to dry and nodded his head. ‘I suppose it does, yeah.’ Although it wasn’t feeling the pressure Jared was struggling with at the moment – it was white hot jealousy.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Ruth

  I arrived at H. Woods in record time, my cheeks flushed from the exertion of my walk but I felt happy and a sense of self-satisfaction. I no longer slumped against Quinn’s desk, gasping for breath as I stumbled into the building and I had gradually picked up my pace, giving myself an extra few minutes in bed each morning. My calves no longer squealed and begged for mercy at the sight of my trainers as I slipped them on before leaving the house and my thighs had come to terms with their extra use.

  ‘You’re looking well.’ Quinn stood up behind her desk to get a proper look at me and I grinned back at her.

  ‘I feel well.’ In fact, I felt fantastic, the misery from the diets now completely flushed out of my system. ‘Is Kelvin in yet?’

  Quinn nodded and leaned across the desk, lowering her voice. ‘According to Pete on security, he’s been here all weekend.’

  ‘He’s been working all weekend?’ I couldn’t believe it. Either Kelvin had been abducted by aliens and replaced by a non-lazy robotic Kelvin or he’d been hit over the head with a heavy object and forgotten he was a lazy arsehole.

  ‘And sleeping here, apparently.’

  ‘He hasn’t been home at all?’

  Quinn shook her head and I rubbed my hands together with glee. My fingers itched to text Erin to revel in the gossip but she hadn’t been very receptive last time.

  ‘Do you think his wife’s kicked him out?’

  ‘She must have.’ It was the only explanation. I could quite easily imagine Kelvin turning into a raging alcoholic, but never a workaholic. ‘I’d better get up there. I’ll keep you updated if I hear anything.’

  My feet skipped up the stairs but halted as I neared my office. It was quite clear Kelvin had spent the entire weekend in the office by the musty stench wafting out of the door. My nose wrinkled but I pressed on, heading straight to the window and shoving it open.

  ‘Ruth? Is that you?’

  The stench wasn’t going away, so I eased the window open wider. ‘Yes it’s me. Do you need anything?’ Like deodorant? A bar of soap?

  ‘Can you come in here please?’

  My eyebrows shot up at the word ‘please’, a word I didn’t think Kelvin was aware of but I headed into his office, preparing myself for an attack of eau de unwashed man as I opened the door. I didn’t, however, prepare myself for an almost naked Kelvin and my retinas burned at the image of my boss sat at his desk in a pair of too-small navy underpants.

  Kelvin raised his chin, refusing to feel any scrap of embarrassment. ‘The bitch has kicked me out of the house. Changed the locks and everything and she won’t give me any of my things. But she won’t win this battle.’ Kelvin barked out a chortle. ‘Oh no! She’s locked me out of the house and I’ve locked her out of the bank account. Lazy cow hasn’t worked a day since I proposed, so she isn’t getting her hands on any more of my cash.’

  ‘Were you in your undies when she locked you out?’ I couldn’t look at Kelvin as he sat there, hairy chest and bulging stomach on display so I asked the plant beside his desk the question instead.

  ‘What? Oh no. I was fully clothed of course.’ He pointed to the chair opposite him where a pile of clothes lay. ‘I need you to take those to the dry cleaners and then go into town to buy me a couple more suits to tide me over until bitch-face gives in. Take the measurements from inside the garments. I’ll need new underwear too.’

  I grimaced as I stepped forwards to gather up the clothes. I wasn’t paid enough to shop for Kelvin’s underpants.

  ‘Here, take my credit card.’ He held it out and I was forced to take a step closer to his fleshy mass. ‘Don’t be getting any cheap crap.’ He had the cheek to look me up and down, his lip curling at what he saw. I wanted to hurl the clothes at him (keeping a tight hold of the credit card, of course) and tell him where to go. How dare he judge me while he was sitting in a pair of crusty undies?

  ‘And don’t take too long. I can’t sit here half naked all day.’ Half naked? If only. My eyes could have coped with a flash of leg, but I’d seen practically everything. ‘And lock the door on your way out. I can’t risk anyone popping in and seeing me like this.’

  ‘But what if there’s a fire?’

  ‘Look at me.’ Kelvin rose, the movement rocking his chubby rolls, sending them into a flurry. I could no longer see his underpants as the rolls settled and drooped again. ‘I’d rather burn to a crisp than step foot out of the office like this. Besides, I have a spare key.’ Kelvin sneered at me as though I was the stupid one.

  Locking the door, I headed downstairs, the clothes, which smelled even worse than the office, tucked under my arm. I wondered why Kelvin had waited until now to buy new clothes when he’d had all weekend to kit himself out and then it dawned on me. Susan may have been a lazy cow who hadn’t worked since Kelvin proposed, but I doubted he’d shopped for a pair of socks since the ring slid onto her finger.

  ‘He’s up there in nothing but a pair of underpants.’

  Quinn’s eyes widened at the latest piece of gossip. ‘You’re kiddin
g.’

  ‘Nope. He wants me to get his clothes dry cleaned.’ I held the clothes up and Quinn gagged as the stench hit her. ‘And then I’ve got to go shopping for new clothes for him.’

  ‘I dare you to buy him a clown suit.’

  I laughed but shook my head. ‘I don’t think he’s in a humorous mood.’

  Quinn opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the phone. She glanced at me as she answered. ‘Yes, she’s still here. Yes, I will pass that message on.’ She hung up and gave me an apologetic shrug. ‘Kelvin says can you nip back upstairs and make him a coffee before you go?’

  My day didn’t look like it was going to get much better. After spending the morning shopping for Kelvin and doing my best to fumigate the office, Kelvin sent me back out again to buy a sleeping bag and pillow.

  ‘Why don’t you book yourself into a hotel?’ It seemed the obvious solution to me. I didn’t ask about crashing at a friend’s house in case he didn’t actually have any friends. Even I wasn’t that cruel.

  ‘Are you mad? This could go on for bloody months. I’m still paying the mortgage for a house I’m not allowed in. I can’t afford a hotel bill on top.’

  ‘So you’re going to stay here? In your office?’

  I added air freshener to my shopping list.

  I tried to get hold of Erin to have a brief gossip, but I was either whizzing around town or she was too busy to come to the phone and I could hardly leave a message with the girl at the next desk about Kelvin and his state of undress. The only chance I got to speak to Erin was in person at the end of the day. I rushed into her office, making Richard leap away from Erin’s desk in shock at my sudden entrance. I wondered if he knew about his parents’ troubles but knew better than to ask.

  ‘Are you ready to leave?’

 

‹ Prev