Love's Foolish Punch

by S M Mala

  ‘Couldn’t you have just kept it in your pants? Or picked someone more suitable?’

  ‘I’d split up with Danika and Chloe came along. No strings attached, good old fashioned fun. That’s what I want,’ he groaned. ‘I need to concentrate on my business and forget about relationships. They’re more trouble than they’re worth, and someone’s bound to let you down, sooner than later.’

  Molly certainly agreed with that comment but sat there, not wanting to back him up.

  ‘You’re thirty-one years old, and you could meet anyone if you wanted to,’ she said quietly. ‘And Bill will probably find out and then what happens? You’re both going to get into trouble. What did she mean that you picked me on purpose?’

  That’s when Jamie’s eyes opened, and he sat up, letting the water splash over.

  ‘You were eavesdropping!’ he said accusingly.

  ‘You weren’t actually whispering, were you?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what she was talking about.’

  ‘Jamie Cohen, how come I don’t believe a word you say?’

  ‘This is lovely, mum.’

  Taking another forkful of curry and rice, she put it to her lips, inhaling the aroma before stuffing it into her mouth. ‘Just what I needed.’

  ‘How drunk did you get?’ her mother asked, putting salad on Molly’s plate. ‘You smell like a brewery.’

  ‘Very but it’s the first time I’ve gone out to a party in ages.’

  ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ her father asked, getting the dish of rice and heaping a pile on his plate. ‘Meet anyone?’

  Molly chewed her food and examined her parent’s light and bright conservatory which over looked their pristine garden. The home where she grew up was still as immaculate as ever, give or take a few DIY things her father had to do.

  She smiled at her mother; her salt and pepper bob neatly put into a ponytail. The colour of her skin was a shiny cocoa colour, and she radiated health. Connie was an ageing beauty.

  Then she looked up into her father’s light brown eyes. For a tall man, he carried a bit of weight around his tummy but his face was wrinkle free and you could never tell he was in his sixties. He had the same light olive skin colour as Squirrel but no hair.

  Everyone said she looked like her mum but had the hair of the Drew family. Curly and, in her case, dark auburn. Molly often thought had she been a boy, baldness would have been welcomed with open arms.

  And the Drew side had a slightly podgy gene which was evident on her thighs.

  ‘Sam called us the other day,’ her mother said, making Molly drop her fork into her plate. Her father looked at her then grimaced before flashing a warning glance at her mother. ‘He said he tried to call you but couldn’t get through.’

  ‘Connie, couldn’t you leave it until later?’ her father asked, shaking his head. ‘He was the one who didn’t want to keep in contact, not Molly.’

  Molly took a deep breath then a large sip of her wine. All signs that she was hung over had disappeared. Hearing her mother mention Sam’s name put paid to that.

  ‘He says he needs to speak to you urgently,’ her mother continued, squeezing lemon juice on her salad. ‘He also said he tried to call round yours but you weren’t at home. And I told him about Daisy, and he seemed genuinely upset.’

  She looked at her father and couldn’t speak, picking up her fork and continuing to eat.

  ‘Can you tell Sam not to go round to Molly’s on the hop,’ her father said.

  ‘But Craig!’

  ‘Do you remember what happened? The state he left her in?’ Putting down his cutlery, he took a sip of his beer. ‘Sam didn’t want to know when we tried to tell him what happened to Molly.’

  ‘You what?’ Molly said, never hearing that before. ‘You told him?’

  ‘We were at a loss on what to do, and I thought it might help,’ her mother said anxiously.

  ‘But he never came, did he?’ Molly asked, realising how much of selfish git her ex really was. ‘And now he wants to see me, you think that’s okay?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think. I was surprised he called.’

  ‘Why didn’t he call me?’ her father asked and shook his head. ‘I’d gladly meet up with him and ring his bloody neck!’

  She put down her cutlery, reaching out to touch her mother’s hand.

  Connie always had a soft spot for Sam. Somehow, she thought he was such a lovely boy where her father wasn’t so impressed.

  He thought he used and abused his only child and cleared off when he got what he wanted.

  Neither parent was wrong.

  ‘I’ve got nothing to say to Sam, and I don’t want to hear what he’s got to say to me,’ she said gently and then thought hard. ‘Is he back in London for a long time?’

  ‘It’s his base.’

  ‘Ah,’ Molly said, not knowing that. ‘Well, we don’t mix in the same circles as our mutual friends preferred him. Please do me a favour?’

  ‘Yes,’ her mother replied apprehensively.

  ‘Tell him to leave me alone, not to come to the house and never contact me again via you or dad or anyone.’

  She noticed her mum sadly looked at her food and then back at her.

  Closing her eyes for a second, Molly knew her parents wanted her to be happy but the last two years had made that near impossible. All she wanted to do was to make them proud.

  ‘You see, I’ve met someone. He’s far from perfect, but he’s bringing me out of my shell,’ she said, thinking of the drunk Jamie lying naked in bed. ‘So it’s going to be impossible for me to meet Sam without hurting Jamie in the process.’

  ‘You said what?’

  Jamie dropped his guard down as she sparred with him on Thursday afternoon.

  ‘My mum loved Sam and she was heartbroken when we split. I wanted to make her happy.’

  ‘So you said I wasn’t perfect.’

  ‘Well, you’re not!’

  ‘Concentrate the pair of you!’ Mr Mac bellowed as she tried to take aim at Jamie. ‘I need you to focus, Molly.’

  She continued to jab at Jamie, all her punches being easily deflected.

  ‘I’m not going to meet them,’ Jamie said, trying to aim for her head as she dodged him.

  ‘I don’t want you to.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Then they’ll really be worried,’ she replied and for the first time landed a punch to his head.

  ‘Lucky shot!’ he replied and went to jab at her harder.

  Doing as they were told by Mr Mac, they continued the training in silence but she knew Jamie wasn’t in a good mood.

  There was no pretend hug or kiss when she came into the gym. He ignored her.

  Molly checked the time and realised she had to leave to do her drama lesson.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, going towards Mr Mac so he could undo her gloves.

  ‘You’re doing well. Are you still in pain?’ he asked as she nodded. ‘You need to stretch those muscles and keep on moving. It’ll go soon.’

  ‘I’m quite enjoying it,’ she said, watching Jamie jump out of the ring and proceed to beat the living crap out of a punch bag. ‘He’s been in such a mood this week. He’s not said two words to me since the weekend. On Tuesday, he just stayed in his room, and now I have to have his sulks round my home.’

  ‘I hear you were very convincing,’ Mr Mac said, peering at her with some concern. ‘The pair of you.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘David came in to see Jamie and we were chatting.’ Then Mr Mac looked over at Jamie and back at her. ‘Be nice to him today. I think there’s something going on, and he’s not letting on what.’

  ‘Is his love life always so complicated or he just shit with the opposite sex?’

  Suddenly, Mr Mac started to laugh out loudly, making Molly step back.

  ‘You’re beginning to see through it then?’ he smiled, shaking his head. ‘He needs a friend and so do you. Enjoy each other’s company but don’t cro
ss the line, not with him. Yes, he is shit with the opposite sex but that’s because he has high expectations.’

  ‘Well, he’s onto a winner with me then, isn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t want to be an old person!’

  Hero was objecting to the drama task. ‘This is boring!’

  ‘The others are doing it,’ Molly replied.

  Because she felt in pain from the training, she preferred to do something less strenuous. Old people seemed to be the best step forward.

  They were all walking around like zombies, if she was blatantly honest, but they were joining in. Suddenly she noticed Charlie was lying flat out on the floor.

  ‘Are you okay? Did you trip?’ she said, rushing towards him. ‘Charlie?’

  His eyes were firmly shut, and she could see he wasn’t hurt.

  ‘I can’t talk,’ he whispered. ‘I’m dead. That’s what old people do. They die.’

  ‘Right,’ she said, nodding in agreement. ‘There’s no answer to that.’

  Then the child stuck his tongue out to the side, pretending to be dead.

  ‘What a wasted talent,’ she mumbled under her breath before calling the lesson to an end.

  After tidying up, tying Charlie’s laces and avoiding the conversation with Hero about being the puppeteer for a baboon who was caught flashing his bare arse to young girls (Hero had got his facts wrong, again), she left the building.

  ‘Hello,’ Jamie said, waiting for her by his car. ‘I thought I’d give you a lift.’

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked Hero, eyeing Jamie with great suspicion as he followed her out.

  ‘A friend,’ she replied, turning to see Charlie do the same thing while holding his mother’s hand.

  ‘What friend?’ continued Hero.

  ‘Sorry about my son,’ his posh father said, smiling at Molly.

  ‘I’m her fiancé,’ sighed Jamie, shaking his head and she noticed he smiled at Charlie. ‘I know, she’s a lucky woman.’

  ‘You’re a lucky man that Molly likes you,’ said Charlie, going a little bit pink while his mother tried to hide her smile. ‘I wanted to marry Molly!’

  ‘Give it time Charlie,’ she replied, trying not to sigh at the sweetness of the child. ‘Now I know you’re interested, I might think twice.’

  Waving to the kids, she got in the car, and he followed.

  ‘I need a hug,’ was all he said.

  Molly looked at Jamie, and he seemed upset. Without asking why, she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a big squeeze. He did the same to her.

  She needed that so much.

  Since Sunday when her mother mentioned Sam, she’d been confused.

  Half of her wanted to see him, the other half didn’t.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, whispering into his neck.

  ‘Oh god, Molly. This all such a mess!’

  ‘And she threatened to do that?’

  Molly watched Jamie nod his head which was placed in his hands. ‘Can’t you talk Chloe out of it?’

  ‘She’s bloody angry I’m engaged to you.’

  ‘Doesn’t she like me?’

  ‘No,’ he bluntly replied, looking straight at her. ‘You remind her of someone she can’t stand.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Molly was stumped on what to say.

  ‘She’s going to tell Bill, I know it. Then David will find out and… fucking hell!’

  This wasn’t the moment to tell him it served him what was right.

  No, she daren’t even say it.

  ‘Jamie, she’s obviously hurt and wants to make you feel the same way. We were probably a little bit over the top on Saturday. That must have cut like a knife, don’t you think?’

  ‘I had a laugh,’ he said, looking far from the happy man she vaguely remembered at the party. ‘What am I going to do?’

  ‘Let me think.’

  The first thing she did was get a bottle of red wine and unscrew the top.

  He was in deep shit.

  Returning with two tumblers and some crisps, she sat next to Jamie. Pouring out the drinks, she thought very hard.

  ‘I don’t know Bill very well but he doesn’t seem like a bad man. I expect they’re having matrimonial problems from what you said. And you’re not the first man she’s done the dirty with. Surely, others must have walked away.’ Molly handed the glass to Jamie, who took a massive slurp. ‘Unless she’s that special. Is she?’

  Jamie turned his head and looked at her.

  ‘What are you asking?’

  ‘Does she have a special trick to keep you interested?’ Molly asked, innocently putting a crisp in her mouth. ‘Funnily enough, my class were impersonating old people today. Any tips I should know about?’

  ‘You’re so rude!’ he laughed and sat up to look at her.

  ‘Here, eat crisps and drink,’ she said putting some sour cream and chive flavoured chips into his mouth. ‘I find that it helps to munch and drink. Things come to light.’

  Molly continued to feed Jamie knowing there was no solution to his problem.

  He was stuffed.

  ‘Sam played the sympathy, confused card with me. Said he needed some time to think and that the relationship was stifling him. So much so, he was shagging someone else, I think.’ Molly let out a half laugh. ‘Doesn’t she believe you’re in love with me?’ She fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘Can’t think why?’

  He stared as she fed him crisps. Jamie put his hand out and stopped her.

  ‘Sorry for being a miserable git. If you want me to meet your parents, I don’t mind,’ he said, with a half-smile. ‘Why did you tell them about me?’

  ‘Ah,’ she said sitting back in the sofa. ‘Sam contacted my mum. Says he needs to speak to me urgently.’

  ‘Really?’ Jamie frowned. ‘Are you going to do it?’

  ‘You saw the state I was in a week ago and that was only seeing him on television. How do you think I’ll cope? He’ll only be rubbing salt into the infected and open wound that was my heart.’

  Slowly, she got to her feet and thought about how scared the whole thing made her feel.

  ‘Why won’t you speak to him?’ Jamie asked. ‘He must have a good reason.’

  ‘Whatever reason he has, I can’t face him. He fooled me into believing he cared, and he made me feel worthless. Or maybe I am but never realised.’ She put the empty bag of crisps into the dustbin. ‘He threw me away and thought it would be okay.’

  She stood looking into the darkness of her small garden.

  ‘I thought we’d be happy here, in this home. I’d planned so much Jamie, so much.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Marriage, a baby and being together. And what am I left with? Pretty much like this building that’s being supported with scaffolding. I’m being held up by the people around me. They’re worried I’m going to collapse again.’ She felt a hand on her shoulder. Jamie was looking down. ‘Only you and Mr Mac know about what happened last week.’

  ‘I think we should just hide under your duvet tonight, don’t you?’

  ‘You’re going to spend an evening with me? You must be that miserable.’

  ‘He’s the golden one and I’m just me.’

  Jamie sighed and turned to look at Molly. They’d been huddled in bed watching television after having cheese on toast. ‘Living in the shadow of my successful older brother.’

  He was dressed in a long sleeve t-shirt and his underpants.

  Molly had her pyjamas on.

  ‘Are you acting the way you do to cause trouble or for attention?’ she asked quietly, turning on her side to look at him. ‘Or a bit of both?’

  She stroked his bristly chin and watched him grin while pretending to look at the television.

  It was then she realised she liked Jamie.

  When he was kind and vulnerable, it was endearing. Seeing him sad made her heart twist. Knowing he had looked after her when she had her wobbly was something she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  And she’d on
ly known him for six weeks but already Molly had told him a lot more than she had told anyone else in a long time.

  ‘You own your own company, and you’re doing what you want,’ she whispered. ‘You’re succeeding and have a lovely lifestyle though, personally, I don’t like your apartment. It’s too shiny, and I keep thinking I’m leaving paw prints all over the place. This place, my home, well, I’ve got vintage dust.’

  He laughed out loudly then turned to look at her.

  It was very confusing, the feeling in her gut. She knew that was the last thing he’d want, to find out she liked him.

  But this time Molly was aware she’d made a mistake before with Sam, pinning everything on him and then watching it all disintegrate in front of her eyes.

  Jamie was confused and in trouble. He was paying her to be his fiancé for thirteen weeks and, at this rate; it wouldn’t last that long.

  ‘Where are you getting the money to pay for our arrangement?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re wondering if it’s going to fall through, don’t you?’ he grinned. ‘So this is all for money?’

  ‘I might start up an agency pretending to be a fiancé to anyone who would have me. I’ll collect a whole lot of fake engagement rings. Might be fun,’ she smiled looking at the sparkling ring. ‘But this is pretty.’

  ‘I want it back,’ he whispered, leaning closer. ‘I know we’re supposed to be getting hitched, so I don’t want you to do a Miss Haversham on me.’

  ‘Well, you see, the title of that book said it all ‘Great Expectations’. Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong. Had I settled for low expectations, I’d be in a better position now. That reminds me, tomorrow I am doing some promotional work for Squirrel. I’m wearing a peanut brittle suit.’