‘Oh God. Next he’ll be going through the contents of your fridge, holding up cheese triangles and saying they’re secretly made by the Illuminati.’
‘I know. He’s annoying but he’s covered in tattoos. You know how I love a tattoo sleeve. Also, huge cock. We’ve both got the day off tomorrow. I’m going to ruin him.’
‘God, it’s too early for this,’ I sighed, heading for the door.
‘IT’S NEVER TOO EARLY FOR COCK!’ I heard Lucy shout as the door closed behind me, startling five other people loitering in the corridor. I love her.
Saturday September 10th
I called Oliver twice this evening and left voicemails before calling Lucy to whine that he was still ignoring me.
‘He’s gone away with Ruth. Amsterdam or Africa or something, I’ve forgotten.’
‘How do you know this? Did you see him?’
‘Yeah, in the coffee shop yesterday. Sorry, I assumed you knew. He asked after you, if that helps?’
‘Did he? Well I’ve been calling him for days and he hasn’t picked up.’
‘He’s sulking. Fuck him. You know he’ll come round, don’t worry. Anyway, you have that Barry fella to seduce. Hurry up and do it – I’m bored waiting for the sordid details.’
‘Barry makes tubing.’
There was a pause. ‘I don’t even know what that means.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Why do you keep meeting on weekdays? What’s wrong with a Friday or Saturday night? Wait, isn’t this going to be your third date?’
‘Yep!’ I said enthusiastically. ‘Third-date rule, baby! He’s coming to mine. I’ll give him a little dinner, a little wine and then—’
‘Demand he shag you?’ she interrupted.
‘I was going to say attempt to seduce him, but your plan might work too.’
‘Course it will. He’s probably as frustrated as you are by now. It’ll happen.’
I’m excited about Tuesday now. I haven’t had sex since that night with Alex and I’ve managed to convince myself that the next person I sleep with will cancel that out. I’m hoping the fact that Alex hasn’t been in touch means he’s realized it was a mistake too.
Monday September 12th
I had an optician’s appointment this morning so I didn’t get into work until eleven, just in time to see Kelly throw a book at Brian’s head and storm into Frank’s office.
‘Jesus! What’s going on?’ I asked, unbuttoning my jacket.
‘Brian made fun of Kelly’s fringe,’ Lucy answered. ‘Kelly didn’t take it too well.’
‘I could sue her for assault,’ moaned Brian, rubbing the back of his head. ‘She’s a fucking nutcase.’
I looked into Frank’s office and saw Kelly in tears. Real tears, not her usual dramatic wailing. This was different.
‘I was only saying that it was too short for her massive forehead,’ he laughed. ‘It’s true.’
‘After you’d said her arse was too big for her skirt,’ mentioned Lucy, not amused. ‘You really can be a bitchy little fucker, Brian. All she did was ask you to stop watching porn on your mobile in the office. It’s a reasonable request.’
‘Fuck off,’ he snarled. ‘She’s a fat bitch with saggy tits who thinks she’s better than the rest of us.’
At that Lucy picked up a pen and launched it across the room at him. ‘You’re a chauvinist little prick, Brian. She might not be the easiest woman to get along with, but I’ll be fucked if I’m going to sit here while you vomit that kind of bile all over the place.’
Then Frank came out and called Brian into the conference room and Kelly made her way through to the staff toilets, avoiding catching anyone’s eye. Stuart and I looked at each other in disbelief. I turned to speak to Lucy but she’d taken a call and was smiling like nothing had ever happened.
Ten minutes later Brian appeared, flustered but saying nothing. Frank called me into his office and asked me to close the door.
‘What the bloody hell is going on today?’ I asked in astonishment. ‘The office is usually so uneventful.’
‘I’ve put Brian on a warning. He’s been told to apologize to Kelly for his inappropriate comments; whether she’ll take it up with HR I don’t know. I’ve also had complaints about his Twitter account from clients. Apparently he’s been tweeting racist remarks at football players.’
‘What the hell was he thinking?’
‘Heaven knows. He’s only twenty-three, he’ll learn. Honestly, Phoebe, sometimes I hate this job.’
‘Really? And you’re telling me all of this because …?’
‘I don’t really know.’ He smiled. ‘Because you’re a good listener and there’s no one else in the office to vent to?’
‘But, Frank, surely it’s not appropriate to be discussing this with a junior member of staff?’
‘Oh, any boundaries we’re supposed to have vanished a long time ago. Wouldn’t you agree?’
‘This is true.’ I nodded, remembering the first time we shagged in his office. I’m pretty sure he was too. ‘But it’s lunchtime and I’m starving.’
‘You were supposed to work through lunch. You were at the optician all morning.’
‘Yes, but that was before you told me you hated your job and discussed Brian’s personal business,’ I said slyly.
He frowned at me. ‘That’s blackmail.’
‘Oh. So it is. Welcome to my world, Frank!’ I got up to leave. ‘I’ll bring you back a Danish. Deal?’
‘Get out,’ he laughed. ‘And that would be great. Thank you.’
I think we might have become friends. How odd.
Tuesday September 13th
Just before lunch Frank called me into his office to say Kelly has decided not to take the Brian matter any further.
‘It’s a relief for me, actually. I have no idea how I’d explain to my boss why he was watching porn in the office while I was here.’
‘Because he’s a dickhead,’ I replied.
‘True. Anyway, I’m hoping he won’t be my problem for too much longer.’
‘Oh? What does that mean?’
‘I can’t say, but you’ll find out soon enough.’
‘Is he getting fired?’
‘Stop fishing. I can’t say. Right, back to work, you.’
‘You’re a rubbish gossip.’ I smiled, closing his office door behind me.
I returned to my desk to find an email from Lucy.
From: Lucy Jacobs
To: Phoebe Henderson
Subject: TONIGHT IS YOUR NIGHT BRO!
Looking forward to it? What time is he coming over?
From: Phoebe Henderson
To: Lucy Jacobs
Subject: Re: TONIGHT IS YOUR NIGHT BRO!
Not coming until eight, which is good as I still have to tidy up. Will let you know how it goes xx
I’ve made sure the house is super-tidy, lit candles and even changed my sheets in the hope that I’ll be happily rolling around on the clean ones later on, throwing my freshly shaved legs over his shoulders.
12 a.m. He was ten minutes early and seemed delighted I’d asked him for dinner. I took his suit jacket, carefully hanging it over a chair instead of throwing it on my bed, like I do with Oliver’s. He sat on the couch while I chatted to him from the kitchen.
‘It’s only pizza and salad, I’m afraid,’ I said, wishing I’d actually cooked. ‘I hope you weren’t expecting something drizzled with au jus.’
‘Hmm, a fan of MasterChef, I see. Nope, pizza works for me,’ he replied, looking around my living room. I thought to myself, I bet your place is nicer than mine. Please don’t notice that weird stain on my couch; even I don’t know what that is.
I brought over the food and we sat at the table smiling politely at each other, both doing our best to avoid any awkward silences or annoying table manners. The dinner part was successful, but once we moved to the couch (and I got close enough to kiss him) he suggested putting on a film. My mouth said, ‘Of course!’ but my head said ‘ARE
YOU SHITTING ME?’ But he was probably nervous, so I let him choose from my DVDs while I opened another bottle of wine.
A quarter of the way through Salem’s Lot, he finally put his arm around me and kissed me. It was sweet. He was gentle and stroked my face, but he wasn’t exactly all over me. If this had been Oliver, he’d have had one hand down my bra and the other undoing his flies. Finally, I suggested going through to the bedroom because 1) I have no willpower; 2) life is fucking short, and 3) dammit, I wanted to sleep with him.
He pulled back and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I have to be going. School night and all that.’
I composed myself and looked at the clock. ‘It’s only eleven! Have I said something to offend you?’
‘Oh no! Of course not. I’d love to stay longer, but I really do have an early start. We’ll do this again though. Cinema tomorrow?’
‘Sure. Yes, OK,’ I replied, stunned that he was now actually putting on his jacket to leave. Before I could convince him otherwise, he’d kissed me, thanked me and left the building.
I stood at the window and watched his car drive off, wondering what had just happened. Had I come on too strong? No, because he kissed me first! I was so confused. It was third-date night and he didn’t want to sleep with me! Why? My first thought was to phone Oliver to help me get to the bottom of this, and even though I knew he wouldn’t pick up, I still called him.
But he actually answered! ‘Oliver! It’s me!’
‘I’m not speaking to you,’ he said, speaking to me.
‘We both know I’m an idiot. Please don’t be cross any longer. I have a problem.’
‘Put some cream on it, Phoebe. I’m kind of busy. Ruth’s here.’
‘Well, you can’t be shagging or you wouldn’t have answered your phone. Barry’s just left and—’
‘Left?’ Oliver interrupted. ‘It’s only just after eleven! What happened? Does he hate you like I do?’
‘That’s the problem – I don’t know! We watched a film, he groped me on the couch … well, saying that, I did have to physically put his hand on my boob … but all I did was ask him if he wanted to go through to the bedroom and he ran away. What’s wrong with me? Am I that repulsive?’
‘Yes. Yes, you are.’
‘I knew you’d say that.’
‘So let me get this straight,’ said Oliver, beginning to laugh. ‘You had to force him to grope you and you basically offered him sex and he went home.’
‘Yes … that’s about right.’
‘Who kissed who first?’
‘He did.’
‘Oh. Well, that’s my homosexual theory out of the window, I guess. Did you make fun of him?’
‘Nope. I save that stuff for my friends.’
‘Maybe you’re just too good for him and he knows it … or perhaps he thinks you’re a beast. Maybe you remind him of his mother.’
‘You’re not helping,’ I laughed. ‘I’m now dressed up and alone with no one to admire my tits.’
‘Afraid I can’t help you there, and I really do have to go, Ruth’s waiting downstairs.’
‘One more thing … we good now?’
‘We’re good. I’m sorry too. Speak tomorrow.’
Suddenly I didn’t mind so much that Barry hadn’t wanted to sleep with me, because my best friend and I were speaking again. Suddenly everything felt just a little bit brighter.
Wednesday September 14th
From: Lucy Jacobs
To: Phoebe Henderson
Subject: WELL????
You’ve been at your desk for 18 minutes and you haven’t spilled the beans on your date. I want details.
From: Phoebe Henderson
To: Lucy Jacobs
Subject: Re: WELL????
NOTHING. I made some moves and he went home. MY MOVES ARE LEGENDARY. So fucking frustrating. He’s taking me to the cinema tonight, so all is not lost.
From: Lucy Jacobs
To: Phoebe Henderson
Subject: Re: WELL????
Weirdo. Him, not you. If he doesn’t at least finger you this evening, dump him.
So the evening arrived and I was ready for either an evening of cinema and sex with Barry or a showdown that would make me look like a desperate sex pest. I slipped into a short black skirt in the hope that when I crossed my legs during the film he might take it as a sign to place his hand on my thigh. My make-up was faultless, the small tear on my pink sweetheart top had been temporarily mended and I was ready on time, waiting for him to text and say he was on his way to collect me. Just as I lit a cigarette my mobile beeped. Excitedly, I scrolled to my inbox.
I can’t stop thinking about you. Let’s give this a go. Alex x
With one text I swung from happy to nauseous. I replied:
I can’t live like this. We need to talk but not tonight.
My phone beeped almost immediately.
Be 10 mins. Barry x
I turned my phone off and stood at the window, watching for Barry’s car and finishing my cigarette. I was not going to let Alex ruin this night for me. I was perfectly capable of doing that on my own.
The film began at eight fifteen and we made it just as the trailers were finishing. Barry chose seats in the middle, which meant no back-row groping and the only time he touched my thigh was when his hand missed the popcorn tub I held on my lap (he apologized). Ugh. As hard as I tried to pay attention to the film, my thoughts wandered from annoyance that Barry was possibly the most frigid man I’d ever met to Alex’s suggestion that we ‘give this a go’. Was he serious? Did he expect me to get back together with him properly? Could I?
As the end credits rolled we left the cinema and walked back to Barry’s car.
‘So, my place or yours?’ I smiled as he opened the passenger door of his Volvo.
‘Neither, I’m afraid,’ he replied. ‘I work early during the week. But another time?’
That was the final straw. As we drove out of the car park I blurted out, ‘Are we ever going to sleep together? We’ve had four dates now. What’s the problem? Do you just not fancy me?’
He stared straight ahead. ‘There’s no problem, Phoebe. Of course I fancy you! It’s just … I mean—’
‘What?’
‘I just don’t see the big deal about sex. There’s no rush. I’d rather wait for a few months until we … It’s not that important, is it?’
And there I was, driving home from the cinema with myself from a year ago. I wanted to stop the car and show him just how important it could be if you did it right, but I didn’t. I said, ‘Of course not,’ and we drove home. I texted him a few minutes ago and called it all off. Shame, he’s a lovely guy, but without that spark there wasn’t any point carrying on and, God help me, I need that spark. I’ve experienced passion this year and I’m not willing to return to an existence where that’s not viewed as important. I texted Oliver:
Barry was a stupid name anyway.
Thursday September 15th
Hazel called me at work today, just as I was getting ready to leave for my appointment with Pam.
‘Just booked you in to get a facial with me on Friday at six.’
‘Oh great, my skin could use an overhaul. Where are we going?’
‘That natural-beauty place on Bath Street. I’ll meet you after work; Kevin’s picking up Grace for me.’
‘Great stuff. Listen, I’m just running out of the office but I’ll see you on Friday. You’re a star!’
Pam Potter’s consulting room is located above a betting shop in the middle of town. It looks like it was once a bedsit as it’s only one room with a toilet and a small kitchen, where I imagine someone, penniless and lonely, has at some point quietly made beans on toast and wept for their youth. Despite Pam’s fondness for weird ornaments and purple seat covers, it’s a very relaxed environment. Although the double glazing is basically non-existent, so occasionally your train of thought can be brought to a screeching halt by shouts of ‘Get me twenty fags, ya bastard’ or ‘Fuck off, ya poof f
rom the punters smoking outside the bookies below.
‘How are you, Phoebe?’ Pam asked, stirring my tea. ‘We haven’t had a session since July. Has this been a problem for you?’
‘I think I’ve coped rather well on my own.’ I laughed. ‘Who’d have thought it?’
‘I’m glad to hear that. Anything in particular you want to discuss today?’
‘I’m feeling disheartened. You know, romantically,’ I admitted, feeling like I should come up with a better reason. ‘I’ve decided I’m ready to have a relationship again, but Jesus, it’s slim pickings out there.’
We had a lengthy discussion about what I felt I wanted from a new partner and a relationship and by the end I felt like I had no idea what I wanted.
‘What about this Oliver chap you’ve mentioned before? Aren’t you involved with him?’
‘Oliver? God no. Well, we sleep together but that’s all. We’re friends. He’d never date me anyway.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’ve seen the way he is with women. He tends to date more compliant women than me. And well, better-looking. He has a type, you know? Like his new girlfriend Ruth. The model. He tries to pretend that stuff isn’t important to him, but it is. Besides, he messes women around a lot and he knows me too well. He knows all of my flaws and the kinds of hideous things that friends forgive and boyfriends dwell on.’
‘So you’d rather have someone who didn’t know the real you?’
‘Yes. What? No, of course not. I’d just like to meet someone who isn’t already aware of every aspect of my life. Oliver is one of my best friends. That’s all we need from each other.’
She had a look in her eyes that said ‘Who are you trying to kid?’ but she didn’t say anything. She just nodded and looked at her notepad and then her watch.
‘That’s our time up. I’ve scheduled you in for October, but if you need any additional support before then, just call.’
And with that I left Pam’s office and headed back to the station, musing over what she’d said. Oliver as a boyfriend? With his track record? Not a chance.
The List Page 23
