Romantic Comedy Box Set (Helen Grey Series Books 1 & 2)

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Romantic Comedy Box Set (Helen Grey Series Books 1 & 2) Page 25

by Hodge, Sibel


  I clambered to my feet, eyes flitting around the room like a cornered animal. I suddenly had so much energy and tension that I had to find a release. I spied the Hoover. That was it. I’d clean all my frustrations out of my system.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon tearing round the chaotic lounge, hoovering like my life depended on it. I even got the furniture polish out and that was almost unheard of. When I finished, I collapsed on the sofa, sweat running down my forehead and stinging my eyes.

  ****

  As I was about to go up to Ayshe’s later that evening, the phone rang so loudly it almost frightened me in the silent flat.

  ‘Hello, is that the home-owner?’

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘I’m calling from Xanadu Windows. If you were to buy new double-glazed windows, how many would you buy? Two, three, four or five?’ a well-spoken man launched into a sales pitch.

  Now, if this had been an ordinary day, I would have politely told the voice on the other end that this was actually the seventeenth time this month that he’d phoned me, and ask him to stop. If this had been an ordinary day, I would have also pointed out that I’d asked his manager many times to take my number off their list. But it wasn’t an ordinary day. It was the day I realized that I was in love with my best friend’s brother and things would never be the same again. The same day that I laid my heart on the line and got punched right through it. And I’m embarrassed to admit that at that point something inside me just snapped, and I did something a teensy bit wicked.

  ‘Oh no, much more than that!’ I said, my voice dripping with promise.

  He carried on with his spiel in a bored voice. ‘OK, then, madam, how many would you like to replace?’

  ‘Well, my husband is doing up a seventeenth-century manor house and there are twenty in the east wing alone that need replacing.’ I put on my poshest telephone voice, smiling to myself. Take that you annoying little man!

  He choked in surprise. ‘Well, that’s excellent news.’ I could hear him rummaging around with a bit of paper as if checking to see what he should say next when someone was actually interested in his bloody double-glazing.

  ‘And,’ I added, ‘about sixty in the rest of the estate.’

  ‘Would you like our sales representative to contact you?’ he asked. I could visualize him rubbing his hands together, thinking of a tidy spot of commission.

  ‘Well, this is a restoration project, and we’re trying to restore the house to its original features. Do you do them in oak?’

  ‘No, but we do have brown PVC wood-effect windows.’

  ‘Oh, I see, well that’s not quite the same, is it?’

  ‘Well…no, but we have supplied a lot of refurbishments for older style properties and our customers are always delighted by how much they look like real wood.’

  ‘Do you think brown PVC windows would look suitable, bearing in mind we are renovating a very old manor house?’ I repeated it back to him to see if he realized what an idiot he was being.

  ‘I’m sure when you see our product, you’ll be very impressed, madam. If I could just get your address, I’ll have our sales representative call on you at a convenient time.’ His voice wavered with excitement.

  ‘Yes, but would they look authentic?’

  ‘Of course, they’re a very high quality product.’ He was almost squealing with delight now.

  ‘Well…I really don’t know what my husband would think.’

  ‘I’m sure he would be very pleased. Please give me your address, and I will arrange for a member of our professional team to call on you,’ he cried. I could practically hear him frothing at the mouth.

  ‘Well, why don’t you give me your home number, and I’ll contact you later.’

  ‘But…I’m at work, madam. Why do you want my home number?’

  ‘Because you’ve phoned me at home when I’ve had the shittiest day of my life! Give me your number and I can do the same to you when you’re having a shitty day!’ I shrieked at him, slamming the receiver down.

  ****

  Ayshe practically pulled me in the door the minute I knocked on it.

  ‘Oh, my God! Guess what?’ She paused, waiting for me to guess, then carried on almost instantly. ‘I’m pregnant! Aagh! Can you believe it?’ She jumped up and down clapping her hands together, frothing with delight.

  ‘Wow.’ I hugged her. ‘When did you find out?’

  ‘Just now, my period was a bit late, and I’ve just done a test.’ She walked over to the mantel-piece, picking up a little white wand and waving it in front of my face. ‘See?’

  I set down the bottle of bubbly that I’d been carrying and held her shoulders, jumping us both up and down. ‘Oh.’ I stopped. ‘Are you allowed to do this?’

  ‘‘Course. I’m not an invalid, you know.’

  I sat down, beaming at her. ‘Guess that means no bubbly for you tonight, then. Oh well, more for me. What did Atila say?’

  ‘He couldn’t believe it either. I mean, we were going to start trying on our honeymoon, but we’re both thrilled to bits.’

  ‘And I’ll be almost like an Aunty, then.’ I elbowed her in the arm.

  ‘Of course.’ She nodded with enthusiasm. ‘And Godmother, and babysitter. You can’t tell Mum and Dad until after we’re married, though. I know they’re a lot more liberal since living here, but I think they’d have a bit of a freak out.’

  I scrambled around in the kitchen looking for some glasses for the champagne. ‘Here’s to the baby.’ I held my glass up and chinked it with Ayshe’s, which only had the tiniest amount in it.

  ‘Let’s think up some baby names.’ I put my feet up on the coffee table and sipped my drink.

  ‘Maisie,’ Ayshe suggested.

  ‘But you have to put it with the surname to see if it sounds alright.’

  ‘I quite like the name Halle, after Halle Berry.’ Ayshe looked at me.

  ‘Yeah, but Halle But sounds too much like Halibut.’

  ‘Hmm, see your point.’ She paused. ‘What about Daisy?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s nice.’

  ‘Or Kelly.’

  ‘Kelly But. No, she’d get called Smelly Butt at school, and it might affect her psychologically for the rest of her life.’ I pursed my lips together in thought.

  The conversation became rapidly more ridiculous as numerous words were inserted in front of her surname-to-be, until we had got just about as much mileage out of it as we possibly could –which included – if I can remember rightly: hairy, big, spotty, flabby and squashy.

  ‘How about Fag But, that’s quite a nice one,’ I cried with laughter. ‘Or Head But.’

  ‘I know. It’s an awful surname – OH! The pizza.’ She rushed in to the kitchen to turn the oven off. ‘Atila’s made us a goat’s cheese and veg pizza. I might’ve burnt it to a crisp, though.’ She pulled the oven door open. Luckily, it was still edible, just a little worse for wear round the edges.

  ‘Here.’ She put half on a plate and handed me a napkin.

  I bit into a delicious, steaming-hot slice.

  ‘Let’s talk about you for a change.’ She stuffed some pizza into her mouth.

  ‘What about me?’ I hoped Charlie hadn’t been spilling the beans on our secret-squirrel conversation.

  ‘Well tomorrow is Day Fourteen of your life-changing plan. Has your life changed for the better?’ She bit into her pizza, waiting for an answer.

  ‘Yes…and no.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I debated for a complete second whether to tell her, then decided just as quickly not to.

  ‘I’ll tell you another time,’ I muttered. She wasn’t going to drag it out of me. No way.

  ‘OK, little Miss Secretive, don’t tell me.’ She polished off the remainder of her pizza as Felix jumped onto her lap and had a quick sniff of the empty plate. ‘But I think it was worth it. I can see the changes in you, even if you can’t. ‘

  ‘Hmm,’ I said, thankful she didn’t push it. ‘Maybe we
should get Felicity to do it.’

  Quick! Divert the attention away from me.

  ‘I don’t think she needs to. She rang me yesterday and asked if she could bring Frederick to the wedding.’

  ‘Who’s Frederick?’ I scratched Felix behind the ear, and he burst into a purring attack.

  ‘You know, that bloke who was pierced to death from the bikers’ café.’

  ‘Ah, him.’ If there was hope for Felicity, there was definitely hope for me. ‘It’s strange, but I’m sure I’ve met Frederick somewhere before. I just can’t place him.’ I shook my head. No, it wasn’t coming to me. It couldn’t be important.

  Ayshe bit her lip, a hesitant look on her face.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Go on. Tell me your little secret.’

  ‘No.’ I jumped up to light some candles which were resting on the coffee table.

  I picked one up and sniffed it. It was supposed to be cappuccino flavour, but it smelled more like a blend of cheap coffee and used kitty litter. Felix was also of the same opinion, because as soon as he caught a whiff, he started sniffing around wild-eyed, his tail bristling up to Christmas tree size proportions. Then he rolled on his back in ecstasy – severely hyped-up – and tried to bonk Ayshe’s shoe, humping away with his little pop-up lipstick on full display.

  ‘Felix!’ she hissed at him.

  Growl.

  ‘FELIX.’

  Bigger growl.

  ‘FELIX!’ Ayshe prodded him in the side with her foot.

  He threw her a filthy look, as if she’d ruined all his fun, and from then on he had it in for us.

  We spent the next two hours watching a girly DVD as Felix tried to gnaw off our toes, scratch our legs and jump on our heads.

  ‘Yoohoo.’ Charlie banged on the door as the credits rolled. ‘I come bearing gifts.’ He carried on banging even louder.

  ‘Hi, Charlie,’ we muttered as he strolled in carrying a bunch of wilted flowers which looked like he had just picked them from the park across the road.

  ‘Oh…great, thanks.’ Ayshe sniffed them and gawped at his hair.

  ‘No, that’s not really the gift.’ He produced a bottle of champagne from behind his back. ‘Da-nah!’

  I held my bottle up. ‘Snap. What have you done to your hair? It looks like a piece of candyfloss stuck on the top of your head.’

  Even Felix found it a bit scary: he took one look at Charlie’s hair, shrieked loudly, and shot off to safety under the sofa.

  ‘Great, isn’t it?’ He looked serious. ‘Oh, goody, the boys are out. We can have a little girly drinky-poo together.’

  ‘Charlie, guess what?’ Ayshe said.

  ‘You’re getting married tomorrow.’ Charlie looked a bit confused.

  Ayshe rolled her eyes. ‘Apart from that.’

  ‘Atila’s admitted he’s now gay?’ he offered.

  She shook her head. ‘Try again.’

  ‘Um…Helen’s fallen in love with Kalem?’ he blurted out, then slapped one hand over his mouth.

  Ayshe looked between me and Charlie as I gave him my best moody stare.

  ‘What?’ she shrieked.

  Oh God, I was going to get it now. ‘Oops,’ was all I could manage, sitting bolt upright, waiting for the onslaught.

  ‘Is that true?’ She stood up, hand on her hip, waiting for an answer

  ‘Um.’ I glanced around the room nervously and thought about fibbing, but then realized I couldn’t lie to her, and actually, what was the point? After Charlie’s little revelation, I had to come clean with her. ‘Yes,’ I caved in, my voice a crushed whisper.

  It was her turn of the night to be shocked. ‘Since when?’ She flopped down with a giant frown on her face.

  Charlie shrank behind a cushion. I glared daggers at him through it, hoping I’d suddenly developed X-ray vision.

  ‘Definitely in the last few weeks, but probably forever,’ he blabbed from behind his hidey-hole.

  ‘Shut up, Charlie!’ we both shouted.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Anger oozed from her voice.

  ‘Because I thought you’d be really, really annoyed.’ I poured myself another drink for bravery.

  ‘I am really, really annoyed!’ Her voice exploded, filling the room.

  I winced, shrinking lower on the sofa.

  ‘So, that would explain why he said you tried to rip his jeans off in the pub and then tried to snog him last night. I thought that didn’t sound like you.’

  ‘I did not!’ And then I remembered the wine-spilling incident and the good-night kiss. ‘Oh, that. It was an accident.’ I let out a shaky breath.

  She stood up again, narrowing her eyes at me. She meant business. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this. He’s my brother, for God’s sake! You’ve known him since you were a little kid. It’s almost like…like incest!’ she screeched.

  Charlie poked his head up.

  ‘How long have you known about this?’ she asked Charlie.

  ‘Well…er–’ Charlie’s eyes darted between the two of us.

  ‘Why am I the last one to find out?’

  I opened my mouth to say something and closed it again, feeling the fire emanating from her. I didn’t have a clue what to say.

  ‘I think you’d better leave.’ She pointed to the door.

  ‘I…I’m really sorry.’ I pulled myself to a standing position.

  Any minute now she would laugh and tell me it was all a big joke. I waited. She glared. I waited some more. She glared harder. She actually meant it.

  I hurried out the door and flew down the stairs to my flat. Ramming the key in the lock, I jerked the door open and stumbled in, throwing the keys on the sofa and slamming the door behind me.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. What was I supposed to do now? I’d ruined everything. Ayshe was getting married tomorrow and probably wouldn’t even speak to me. At that moment, I hated myself.

  There was only one thing for it. I was going to get blind drunk.

  With determined steps, I made my way to the kitchen. I flung open all the cupboard doors until I found a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I forced the corkscrew in, twisting and twisting until I almost broke the cork.

  Take that, you stupid little cork!

  Pouring half a glass of wine, I threw in a couple of ice cubes and filled the rest of it with soda. Leaning back against the worktop, I took a big swig. And another. And another.

  I was on my fourth glug when I heard a soft tapping at the door.

  ‘Helen, open the door. It’s Charlie.’

  ‘No, I don’t want to talk about it.’ I took another gulp.

  ‘Come on, open up.’ The tapping turned into a repetitive knocking.

  ‘No! Go away.’ I downed the rest of the glass and went through the process again.

  Wine. Ice. Soda. The cool, fruity liquid slid down my throat easily.

  Charlie carried on knocking for a few minutes until it suddenly went quiet, and I heard the door to his flat open and close.

  Half a bottle later he was back again. Bang, bang, bang.

  ‘Charlie, go away!’

  ‘It’s Ayshe.’

  I swallowed. Had she come to have another go at me?

  ‘Open the door. I need to talk to you.’

  Did she still sound angry? The door was muffling her voice. I couldn’t tell.

  ‘It’s OK, you don’t have to say anything. I know you hate me.’ I sniffed.

  ‘Look, I’m not going to have this conversation from the hallway. Open up.’ She rattled the door.

  I hesitated. She was going to kill me.

  ‘Come on, open it!’

  I jumped. What should I do?

  I opened the door of couple of inches and peered out, waiting for a fist to come flying at me.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  I nodded, opening the door wider.

  She barged in and swung round, facing me.

  I held my breath, ready for the onslaught.

  ‘I’m really sorry.�
�� Her face softened. ‘I think I’ve just been under so much stress with the wedding, and I’m feeling very hormonal at the moment.’

  Relief washed over me as I exhaled.

  ‘I was just so…well, shocked. You’ve never said anything to me before.’

  I hung my head and stared at my feet. ‘I’m sorry too, but I just couldn’t tell you. Don’t you remember all the trouble when your cousin married that English guy? Your family was so angry. I didn’t want to lose you all, and I knew if I told you, you’d go mad.’

  She reached her fingertips out and lifted my chin up. My eyes glistened as they met hers.

  ‘I know, I know. It’s a really bad idea,’ I said.

  ‘I thought we told each other everything. I was really angry that you didn’t talk to me about it and–’

  ‘But I was so worried that you wouldn’t approve. I couldn’t tell you, and I can’t believe Charlie blurted it out.’

  She let out a soft laugh. ‘Charlie’s the worst at keeping a secret.’

  The beginning of a grin snaked up the corners of my lips. ‘I know.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it and…once I got over the initial surprise…I actually think that you and Kalem are made for each other.’

  ‘Huh?’ I took a step back ‘You do? But I’m just a complete disaster. I always mess everything up.’

  ‘No you don’t, you just think you do. Your heart’s in the right place, and that’s all that counts. I think you two would be great together.’

  ‘Really?’

  She smiled. ‘I really do. You’re my two favourite people in the world and I want you both to be happy. I honestly don’t think my parents will mind, they’ve been in the UK for so long now, their attitudes have changed a lot.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, they’re much more liberal than they were when they first came here. In fact, I think they’d be really happy about it. You are like a second daughter to them after all.’

  ‘But it’s too late now anyway, he’s already got a new girlfriend.’ My shoulders drooped.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I told her about Zerdali.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I do know one thing for sure.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Kalem has been acting pretty secretive about his love-life lately, but there might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. Maybe he’s not with Zerdali at all, and you’re just reading too much into it.’ She stepped towards me and wound her arms round my shoulders. ‘I’m sure it’ll work out OK in the end. If it’s not OK, then it’s not the end.’ She patted my back, our heads resting against each other. ‘Now come on. Come back upstairs and we can enjoy the rest of my last night as a single woman.’ She released me. ‘There’s still lots of champagne to drink.’ She reached out her hand.

 

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