Love's Foolish Punch

by S M Mala

  ‘We have to show affection,’ he mumbled, looking like he was going to be sick. ‘Which means greeting each other with hugs.’

  ‘Well, that Mr Mac is going to realise we’re fake as you didn’t kiss me when I came in.’

  ‘We had an argument,’ he quickly replied. ‘But I’ve forgiven you for dressing like a man.’

  ‘Thanks!’ she said, sitting down in the chair opposite his desk. ‘Then say you’re gay!’

  Jamie yanked her by the arm and pulled a chair so she could sit next to him.

  ‘You see, I can’t keep my hands off you, so I don’t want you to be far,’ Jamie whispered. ‘Which means we have to be touchy feely.’

  ‘You don’t look the type,’ Molly replied, examining his face close up for the first time. His small, straight nose and perfect skin, hidden by very dark facial hair. ‘Do you ever shave?’

  Molly noticed he looked quizzically back at her.

  ‘Do you?’ Jamie asked before grinning.

  ‘Legs, pits and pussy,’ she replied, watching him double blink. ‘The last one is waxed but you won’t be seeing that.’ Molly folded her hands on the table and leaned closer. ‘We need to set some boundaries.’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied, not pulling back but staring. ‘I agree on that.’

  ‘This is purely platonic and I don’t want to get involved in anything that isn’t. I don’t agree with you sleeping with this woman, but it’s none of my business.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘I can be polite and charming though I won’t lie for you, other than the fiancé thing. Don’t make a fool or try to trick me for your benefit, that wouldn’t be nice. And as for your brother, what are you going to say to him about me? Your friends? Your family? Do you have to meet my parents? I’d rather you didn’t as I don’t want to lie to them. They’ve been through enough with me recently, and this isn’t something they’d approve of.’

  There was a change in Jamie’s face, as if she’d hit on something. His face suddenly turned gentle then a smile appeared.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ she asked, noticing he let out a little sigh.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’

  ‘For the money.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘I need to sharpen up my acting skills.’ Then Molly cleared her voice. ‘I can do accents, you know. Is there a nationality you’d prefer me to be?’

  Unexpectedly, he started to laugh, and she was momentarily confused at his reaction.

  ‘I think you have a nice voice, so you can keep it.’ Jamie grinned, and she couldn’t gauge what he was thinking. ‘Why don’t we do this over lunch?’

  Sitting back, she wondered what he was up to.

  ‘I think as this is a professional matter, we keep to the office,’ Molly replied, flicking her eyes towards the men in the gym.

  Then she was distracted when a few fit blokes walked passed, nodding at Jamie. Again, she caught the eye of Mr Mac.

  ‘We do classes for women,’ he whispered. ‘If you like this gym so much.’

  ‘What?’ she said, gawping at a six foot blonde man who obviously had worked out to look like a sexy hunk for years.

  ‘You’re dribbling, Molly.’

  ‘Oh!’

  Molly touched her mouth to see if she was.

  There was no sign of spit.

  Then he started to laugh, sitting back in his chair.

  ‘I think I’ll give you a free pass for three months to use at any of our gyms. It might be fun for you to keep trim,’ he said lightly.

  Then she glared at him, pulling down her jumper, so it lay flat against her round tummy.

  ‘I don’t like the idea of someone hitting me in the face,’ she replied, turning her nose up in the air. ‘I think it looks very painful.’

  ‘And you wouldn’t want to hurt your pretty little face, would you? I suppose that’s where your money’s pinned on.’

  ‘You’ll find this,’ she said, pushing up her left hand. ‘Is where my money has always been pinned on. A rather expensive support for a puppet.’

  ‘And Tommy Halo.’

  It happened.

  Very quickly that moment of feeling sick and despair hit her in the chest. Molly glanced at her hand, holding it tightly in her other palm.

  Slowly she counted in her head for all the bad thoughts, which included killing Tommy Halo and most of her ex-production team, leave her head.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she heard him say, realising Jamie was watching her closely. ‘You looked at bit odd there.’

  ‘That’s why my face isn’t my fortune. Just my fist.’

  Her eyes quickly darted around the office. She realised she didn’t know this man but his knee was pressed against her own. Molly pulled back a little.

  ‘Look at me,’ he asked as she turned to face him. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About what’s really troubling you because I can tell something is.’

  ‘You know what it is. That bloody ex-boyfriend of mine! Rubbing acid into leprosy. Plus my inability to re-launch my career.’

  Jamie turned her seat so she could face him.

  She stared back into his eyes, not wanting to be intimidated by his quizzical expression.

  ‘You’re in charge of your own destiny,’ he said, leaning closer. ‘You’re as much to blame for how your career turned out as well as your failed relationship.’

  ‘I take it you went to speak to a shrink when your woman dumped you?’ Molly mumbled then saw him retract. ‘Sorry, that wasn’t very nice. I’ll keep my nose out of it.’

  Then he did something totally unexpected.

  He kissed her on the lips before sitting back in his seat.

  Molly’s heart was unexpectedly pumping very hard.

  It had been ages since a man did that.

  Sam had hardly touched her the last year they were together. She wondered at the time if that was down to her having a bad case of halitosis, but he was too polite to mention it. It didn’t stop her from buying some over the counter pill to eliminate the odour of bad breath. Unfortunately, it gave her diarrhoea due to the amount she consumed in hope her boyfriend would make love to her for the first time in months.

  Both ends of her body let her down that night.

  And so did he, the following week, when he upped and walked out.

  ‘Here’s the drill. You come over to my home tonight and abuse my takeaway delivery. I won’t get there until late so make yourself comfortable in the spare room. Thursday I’ll come round to yours, stay the night and give you a train ticket.’

  ‘Where for?’

  ‘Like I said, weekend in the countryside for two nights. All expenses paid. You can use the facilities. I’ll follow you up, and we’ll have dinner. They have a spa. But you have to be very quiet and don’t speak to people. Just nod and look lovingly at me.’

  There was a loud knock at the door.

  Mr Mac walked in and flashed Molly a pensive glance.

  ‘So this is the one?’ Mr Mac asked unenthusiastically.

  He was as tall and as wide as the door. Rippling dark muscles and smooth skin. His face was very pretty for a person of his size, and she looked at the moustache, wondering if he could have been part of ‘The Village People’ from years ago.

  ‘This is Molly! Isn’t she gorgeous?’ Jamie said, standing up and looking very happy when he said it.

  She realised he was a far better actor than she envisaged.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, forcing a smile and putting out her hand. ‘My name is Molly Drew.’

  The man put out his hand and shook hers, holding it for a little longer before examining her face.

  ‘I’m Mr Mac.’

  ‘Is that your first name?’

  ‘It’s my name.’

  ‘So what’s your first name? Mister?’ she giggled.

  ‘Molly, please be polite,’ Jamie said gently.

  ‘And you’re engaged to Jamie?
’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘Sure am! I’m a money digger, you see,’ she said, glancing at Jamie who grimaced. ‘I’m also very lucky to have met a man that I instantly fell in love with.’

  Molly pulled her hand away.

  ‘It’s all very sudden but with life, you have to grasp the small chance of happiness,’ she continued and walked towards Jamie, reaching out to hold his hand. ‘We’re so in love.’

  Mr Mac smiled and looked at Jamie before shaking his head.

  ‘You’re very different from his usual type,’ he said and stepped back a little. ‘Very different.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘He says you teach drama.’

  ‘That is true. I’m a failed actress.’

  ‘And you were the hand up Bert the Baboon’s bottom,’ Mr Mac laughed, making Molly frown. ‘But it all when wrong.’

  ‘Good friends, are you?’ she said, through gritted teeth.

  ‘I’m a very good friend and I wouldn’t want Jamie to be taken for a ride.’

  ‘I was only joking about the money digger thing,’ Molly said, getting immediately flustered. ‘I thought you might find it funny.’ Mr Mac glared at her. ‘Obviously not.’

  ‘My fiancé has a strange sense of humour,’ Jamie said, putting a very heavy arm across her shoulders. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

  ‘And it looks like you’ll have to,’ mumbled Mr Mac before turning around and walking out.

  ‘He doesn’t like me,’ she whispered before sitting back down. ‘I can tell.’

  ‘Molly, less is more.’

  Jamie sat down beside her.

  ‘If he’s only just met me and doesn’t look convinced, how the hell am I going to persuade your friends?’

  ‘Just try.’

  ‘And the bad man? He’ll know it’s a lie, and then I’ll probably get put in a concrete bath and sunk in the wrong part of the Thames!’

  ‘Oh my god,’ Jamie said, flinging his head back. ‘This is going to be the longest thirteen weeks of my life!’

  Week two of the engagement… foot work

  ‘Jamie, where are you?’

  Dutifully she had taken the train, made an effort to look nice and abused all the free facilities but just after midnight on Friday, she’d had enough.

  Calling him for the tenth time, Jamie was nowhere to be seen.

  They had spent two very short evenings together.

  On Tuesday, he wasn’t around, and she fleetingly saw him in the morning. He was more focussed on his laptop at the breakfast table of his plush flat in Holland Park.

  To Molly, it was very new and looked like no-one lived there.

  Given that he seemed to be a more of a night prowler, she gave him a key to her flat.

  Again, Thursday night he didn’t turn up. It was only when she woke up to see him crashed out on the sofa, Molly realised she had no idea what she was getting into. The only positive thing that came out of this meeting was they went through what she had to say.

  He also said her flat was ‘quite’ nice.

  Jamie Cohen wasn’t the sort to give genuine compliments from their small, infrequent meetings.

  It was also agreed to stick to the near truth as possible.

  That was the brief.

  Glancing around where she was staying, it was a lovely room, and everything was gorgeous but Molly was at a loss on what to do.

  It reminded her of how Sam would say he was coming home then would stay out most of the night, with his University and drama pals. She knew the all-male group, but Molly used to feel left out. When she questioned him, he’d make her feel like she was pressurising him to stay at home.

  All she wanted was some company.

  That evening and night after ordering room service, which included an expensive bottle of champagne, this bugged her.

  It wasn’t Jamie, the man she hardly knew.

  It was a reminder that people could fool you into thinking one thing when, actually, they would do the opposite.

  Empty promises, that’s what upset her the most.

  After the second miniature bottle of brandy from the mini bar, she passed out in a large bed.

  There was something holding her down by the waist, and she couldn’t move. It woke her from the pissed induced slumber. She turned to see Jamie fully clothed, faced down on the pillow.

  Her first reaction was to push him off the bed, but he looked like he was deep in sleep.

  Moving closer, she also smelt the amount of booze wafting from his breath.

  ‘Well, if you asphyxiate, I’ll keep the ring,’ she mumbled, taking his arm and flinging it back.

  Then he smiled, while fast asleep.

  ‘Dreaming of your old lover, aye?’ Molly huffed, getting comfy under the duvet before falling back asleep.

  When she woke, he was still in the same position.

  She had no intention of spending the day with a hung over man so made a decision to go back home. There was only so much spa time you could enjoy over the weekend.

  Jumping out of bed, she put all her clothes away, sighing at the pretty dresses she’d packed for the occasion.

  As Jamie wasn’t going to see her, she put on her normal ripped jeans, long t-shirt and leather jacket to wear, making sure all freebies from the bathroom where placed in her toiletries bag.

  Turning to look at Jamie, he was just like all men.

  A bloody waste of time.

  ‘You can have this back.’

  Molly handed the key card to the woman at reception. ‘It’s Mr Jamie Cohen’s room. And here’s a note to go with it.’

  She’d written the following,

  ‘Seriously? Don’t waste my time and make promises you can’t keep. I’m going home to do a cab shift which is more interesting than being stuck in a posh hotel with you.’

  ‘Do you have a number for a cab company to take me to the station?’ she asked, looking at her false engagement ring, and wanting to shove it up Jamie’s arse while he slept.

  He was in an ideal position.

  Faced down on a pillow.

  ‘Are you Molly?’ a man asked, standing to her side.

  She turned and saw a tall man with brown hair and bright green eyes smiling at her.

  He was very attractive and mature.

  ‘I am,’ she said as he put out his hand to shake hers. ‘Do I know you?’

  ‘You’re Jamie’s fiancé, aren’t you?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ she mumbled and wasn’t quite sure how this man knew. ‘Do you know Jamie?’

  ‘It’s probably my fault he was out so late last night. When he got here after lunch, I cornered him for a drink with some of my friends,’ he laughed out.

  ‘So he was here, all day yesterday?’ she said, trying not to look too pissed off.

  ‘Ah, didn’t he tell you?’

  ‘The relationship’s very new,’ Molly smiled, realising she wouldn’t be able to cope with Jamie being a let-down. ‘And probably not going to last the distance at this rate.’

  ‘I see. And you’re not staying for dinner tonight? All our wives and partners are coming, even David. You know David, don’t you?’

  He had beautiful white teeth, tanned skin and his voice had a slight Australian lilt.

  ‘I’ve not met his brother. But I have to go back to London. Something’s cropped up. It was nice to meet you.’

  Molly shook his hand out and turned to speak to the receptionist.

  ‘I can give you a lift,’ he said, stepping closer. ‘I have to go into the village to get some things.’

  ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble. I’ll get a cab.’

  ‘Jamie would never forgive me. I’m happy to drop you off.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Most sure.’

  They chatted about the countryside and the hotel. The man had been going there for years and seemed to be a family friend. He didn’t say too much other than he was married (there was also a thick wedding band on his finger), he h
ad a young daughter from a previous relationship, and he was happy.

  ‘And you?’ he asked as they parked outside the station. ‘Are you happy? You know Jamie’s a handful.’

  ‘I’m beginning to see that.’

  ‘How did you meet?’

  ‘Through my cousin, Squirrel.’

  ‘You’re Squirrel’s cousin!’ he shouted out in alarm.

  ‘I take it you know him? Yep, my cousin got all the best bits, and I got this.’ She tugged at her hair. ‘I know life’s not fair.’

  ‘Your hair’s beautiful,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s very vibrant and makes you look stunning.’

  Molly did a double take and tried not to look at him, preferring to concentrate on the people walking into the station. Then her tummy grumbled loudly.

  ‘Sorry, pardon me,’ she said, pressing her palm to her stomach.

  ‘You didn’t have breakfast?’

  ‘I’ll get something on the train.’ Molly reached for her bag in the back seat and opened the door. ‘Thank you for the lift.’

  She got out the car and noticed he did the same thing.

  ‘I haven’t had breakfast. Would you like to get some with me?’ he asked.

  ‘My mother told me not to speak or take a lift from strangers which I’ve done in the past half hour. She’d be really annoyed if you’re offering sweets, or something similar.’

  He laughed and looked at his feet.

  ‘Your Jamie’s fiancé so she can rest assure that you’ll be safe in my hands.’

  ‘Which is probably safer than being in that drunken bum’s one,’ she mumbled.

  Glancing at her watch, it was just after eight-thirty, and she didn’t need to dash off home.

  ‘I know a place that does a good eggs benedict,’ he said.

  She was sold.

  After she munched through her breakfast at high speed and drank as much tea as she could stomach, Molly sat back in her seat. She watched the gentry from the village walk past the window.

  The guy was looking at his phone.

  If she hadn’t been a pretend fiancé, she would have been very flattered that a man had spoken to her, given her a lift and now demanded to pay for breakfast. But he wasn’t the sort of man she would meet normally.