Noah and Me

by Beckie Stevenson

  Ben looks up and I think I see annoyance flash across his eyes, but it passes so quickly that I can’t be sure. Ruby walks towards the table with a casserole dish in her hands.

  “Hello, Noah,” she says, putting the dish in the middle of the table.

  “Ruby,” he replies.

  I roll my eyes. I’d forgotten these two had a little falling-out a few days ago.

  Ruby huffs and walks over to us. She holds out her hand to Noah. “I’m Ruby,” she says. “I’m Ariel’s best friend. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Noah hesitates, but then he places his big hand into hers and shakes it. “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Good, I’m glad that’s sorted,” I say, grabbing a placemat and another set of cutlery. I lay them on the end of the table next to Owen and me and pour him a glass of red wine. “Have a seat,” I tell him.

  “Thank you.” He holds his tie against his stomach and sits down. “It smells great.”

  “It is great,” says Ruby quickly. “Bread roll?” she says, handing him the basket.

  He takes one and starts to cut through it. “So what were you lot talking about just now?”

  “Ruby’s fucking awful rug,” says Ben without looking up. He plunges the ladle into the pot and serves himself a bowlful. “You remember, it was the night you punched Ariel in the face.”

  I clear my throat. Why is Ben acting like a teenager?

  “Oh, right,” says Noah, shooting me an apologetic glance.

  “You know who you remind me of?” asks Ruby.

  Noah looks up and sees her eyes burning into him. “Me?”

  “David Beckham,” she says. “You’ve got a similar style and colour hair. You’ve also got that darker stubble all over your chin and you look like you’ve gotten better with age, for some reason. You have nice teeth too and those eyes are crazy.”

  I can feel my mouth hanging open as I look at her. Where has this come from?

  “What?” she says to me. “It was a compliment.”

  “I know,” I say, frowning at her. “It just didn’t sound right coming from you, that’s all.”

  “Don’t you think he looks like David Beckham?” she asks.

  “No,” I say quickly. “He looks like Noah. But he does have nice teeth.”

  Ruby and Noah start to laugh.

  “Hey,” says Ben. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about your tattoo, Ariel. What is it?”

  What’s with Ben asking random questions tonight?

  “Oh, no, no,” says Ruby, wagging her finger. “We don’t talk about Ariel’s tattoo, do we?” She narrows her eyes at me.

  I sigh loudly. “No, we don’t, Ruby.”

  I can sense that Noah has stopped eating, but I don’t look at him.

  “Why not?” asks Ben.

  “It’s personal,” I say.

  “Can you at least give us a little hint?” he pushes.

  “It’s just my life,” I say with a shrug. “It’s all the things that have made me who I am and that have mattered to me enough to make me want to remember them forever, and that’s all I’m saying.”

  “Where is it?” asks Noah.

  “All down her back,” replies Ben. “There’s a picture of something and then there are literally hundreds of words scattered all around it.”

  “That’s enough,” I say, turning to scowl at Ben.

  “Yeah, well,” says Owen as he pours himself another glass of wine. “I still can’t believe you whipped your robe off and got your naked arse in the air just for Ruby’s ugly, overpriced rug.”

  “What?” says Noah. “You were naked because you were using your dressing gown to mop up the wine?”

  “Yes…” I say slowly. “Why else would I have been naked?”

  “He thinks I fucked you,” Ben says.

  “What?” I hiss. Noah thinks I had sex with Ben, but he’s still here? Not to mention, he still took me back to the graveyard and did those nice things for me.

  “Your reputation preceded you and neither of you denied it,” Noah says to me.

  I can’t believe this. “Why didn’t you tell him the next day?” I ask Ben.

  “He didn’t ask me,” he says. “And he was being a dickhead. He punched you, but he was aiming for me.”

  “This is ridiculous,” I say. “Just shut up about the rug and my arse, all of you. Let’s just eat and get drunk.”

  “Here, here,” says Ruby, raising her glass in the air.

  “And grow up,” I tell Ben.

  It’s nearly one in the morning and everyone is shit faced. I really hope none of us have to work an early shift tomorrow.

  We’ve started to play card games and I hate playing card games. Just as they pull out Uno, I make my excuses and head into my own bathroom. I sit on the toilet and feel the floor moving underneath me. I’ve definitely had five glasses of wine too many. I already knew that though because I haven’t been able to stop myself from looking at Noah every five seconds. I’m sure he knows since he definitely isn’t as drunk as me. I watched a bit ago as he removed his suit jacket and his tie, then rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and undid the top few buttons. I wanted to undo the rest. I wanted to see if he’s still the same underneath his clothes.

  When I step out of my bathroom, Noah is standing by my bedroom door that he’s closed behind him. I look up at him and have to hold onto the doorframe for support.

  He doesn’t speak. He strides across the room towards me, grabs my shoulders and turns me around. He starts to tug at my vest top until he’s rolled it all the way up to my neck. Then he unclasps my bra and pushes the straps out of the way. I know what he’s doing, so I just stand and wait. I feel his fingers tracing over some of the words. He places his hand over the top of Lily’s handprint that I had tattooed in the centre of my back, and then I hear him sigh when he finally spots his own name that’s woven in between three other words: Love, Hope and Forever. He keeps his fingers over his name and leans down to kiss my neck.

  “I love you,” he whispers against my skin, “but I don’t think I can get over what you did or how you made me feel. I probably sound like a big baby, but that’s just how it is. I don’t like you very much.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow the great big lump in my throat that’s the size of Jupiter. He can’t be doing this to me. To us. “Don’t do this,” I say. He starts to pull away, so I quickly fasten my bra and pull my vest top back down as I turn around. I look towards the door, but I find him sitting on the end of my double bed. “Don’t say never,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head and rubs both of his temples with his fingers. “It’s too difficult, Ariel. There’s too much that’s gone on between us.” He sighs and then looks up and straight at me. “I won’t ever forgive you for leaving me in that way, not after everything we’d been through. I’ve been torturing myself every single day for the past seven years and I had to deal with all of those thoughts as well as a broken heart. If we got back together, how would I be able to stop myself from throwing everything back in your face when we argue? How can I be sure that you won’t fuck off and stamp all over my heart again?”

  I can’t speak. Jupiter has come back up and lodged itself firmly in my windpipe.

  “I blamed you for a lot of things,” he says. “And I think I still do.”

  I want to tell him that I know he blames me and I deserved to be blamed.

  “There are things going on in my life that you don’t know about, and I’ve deliberately kept them from you because I can’t be sure about how you’d react. That’s not right,” he says. “How can we build anything if that’s how I feel?”

  I open my mouth but I can’t speak because I’m too busy wondering what it is that he hasn’t told me.

  “For years I thought you’d aborted our child. I didn’t believe the whole ectopic pregnancy story,” he continues.

  I feel myself frowning. “There was a doctor,” I finally whisper, my voice betraying my distress.

  “I know,” h
e snaps, “but I wasn’t sure the lengths that you’d go to cover it all up. I imagined you’d paid him, that you’d faked your collapse. I knew that the blood and the tightness I felt when we first had sex was because you were a virgin, so you’d either cheated on me or that was my baby. I loved you so much that I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you’d cheated on me. I was absolutely fucking devastated,” he breathes. “I thought you destroyed our child, Ariel. And that you didn’t want either of us and left like that just to prove it.”

  “But you know that’s not true now,” I say quickly. “You knew last week.”

  “I know,” he says. “I know you’ve told me the truth now and I do believe you. And I’m sorry that you ever had to go through that, but I just can’t forget how I felt for all of those years, Ariel.” He huffs and leans back onto the bed. I remember how I was in the exact same position when I was in his bedroom. “Imagine how bad I felt knowing you thought I was married and that you’d actually been there? You were literally metres away from me after all those months. How do you think I felt when I followed you all the way to Zante and then saw you running naked into the sea with an old bloke to have sex with him? You didn’t exactly look as heartbroken as I thought you’d be.”

  I can’t believe he’s saying this, not after he’s been telling me that he couldn’t forget me. “You kissed me the other day,” I remind him. “You snogged my face off in your bedroom.”

  “Yes,” he says, “that was a huge mistake, and I was letting my dick rule my head. It won’t ever happen again.”

  I cross my arms over my chest because I don’t know what else to do or say.

  “I think I’m going to go,” he says, sitting up. “Thank you for inviting me for tea. It was nice of you.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. Why is he being like this? Is this some stupid test that I’m obviously going to fail? “Goodbye, Noah,” I say. He’s right. There is too much crap between us. Each time we try to forget it and move on, something comes up and we have to start all over again.

  He stands from the bed and smirks at me. “Goodnight, Ariel.”

  What the fuck is he smirking at? “You know what?” I snap.

  He puts his hands on his slim hips and huffs. “What?”

  “You were about to marry her and it had only been four months since we’d split up. How do you think that made me feel, Noah?”

  He shakes his head. “I won’t talk about her.”

  “Why not?” I retort. “Why is it okay for you to blame me for everything and get me to talk about stuff, but not you?”

  “Just drop it, Ariel,” he says.

  I want to tell him to fuck off, but I’m keeping my mouth shut. The old Ariel would throw a hissy fit and that’s the Ariel he knows. He doesn’t know me now. Not properly.

  “Okay,” I say calmly. “I understand what you’re saying and I respect it. Now please leave.”

  He blinks at me, clearly confused by my reaction, and shrugs. He turns and puts his hand on the door handle.

  “Noah,” I whisper.

  “Yes?” he says without turning around.

  I hate myself for saying this, but it’s the only way. I can’t ever imagine moving on otherwise. “I don’t want to see you,” I say. “This is going to be hard for me, and I don’t want it made any harder by seeing you all the time and hearing about what you’ve been up to.”

  “It’s going to be hard for you?” he repeats as if my words have surprised him. Does he think I don’t care about him? Does he think I don’t want him?

  “You have no idea,” I tell him. “Goodnight, Noah.”

  Chapter 34

  NOW

  Monday 17th December

  Today is Manic Monday. The press are hailing it as the busiest shopping day of the year. I only have to buy two proper presents for Christmas, one for Ruby and the other for my godmother, Jandy, and I bought them both about four weeks ago from Amazon. The last thing I’m going to do is go anywhere near a shop when it’s packed full of people. So instead of shopping, I’m volunteering.

  I push open the door to the Cancer Research charity shop and smile at Jandy.

  “Hey, Ariel,” she says. “And how’re you today?”

  I pull off my wet raincoat and hang it on a peg in the staffroom. I flick on the kettle and grab two mugs from out of the cupboard. “I’m alright,” I say. “I had to work a late shift yesterday with a stinking hangover, so today I’m grateful that I’ve woken up with a clear head.”

  I hear Jandy chuckling from the shop. “Did you go out?”

  “No,” I call back, “we had friends ‘round on Saturday night and ended up drinking eight bottles of wine between five of us.”

  I hear her whistle. “No wonder you had a headache yesterday.”

  I smile and make the tea and place the mugs onto a tray. “Where do you want me today?”

  She drags some bin bags through from the front door and starts to untie them. “Could you go out front and work the till?” she asks. “Charlene has rang in sick today so it’s just the two of us.”

  The charity shop isn’t located in the best spot really. York has the popular central section and it has the touristy cobbled streets and rickety old buildings near the Minster. This shop is in neither of those areas. We don’t get much passing trade so it’s only the charity shop trawlers that come here. We won’t exactly be run off our feet, despite it being Manic Monday. “Sure,” I tell her. “You going to be sorting?”

  “And steaming,” she says, smiling at me.

  I smile back at her. I’ve known Jandy since I was a baby. Mum used to volunteer at the shop and I’d tag along and help on the odd occasion. When I turned sixteen, I left school to concentrate on my athletics, but I’d always find time to come and spend a couple of days with her. Jandy is old and wise. I like hearing her stories and listening to her advice. She must be nearly seventy, but she’s been in this shop every single day since her husband died from lung cancer almost fifteen years ago. She’s short and round, a bit like a Christmas pudding and she’s the most caring and thoughtful person that I’ve ever met.

  I glance at the clock and head towards the front door to unlock it. Five people immediately walk through the doors.

  “Good morning,” I say cheerily.

  None of them answer me so I just shrug. They’re here to spend money that goes to the charity. They can be as ignorant as they want for all I care.

  Twenty minutes later, there are twelve people in the shop and they’ve been constantly coming and going since I first opened the door. Jandy has had to abandon the steaming and the sorting to come and help out front.

  “I’ve never known it to be this busy,” she says, pulling out a carrier bag.

  I wrap the decanter in brown paper and place it inside the carrier bag. “Nor me,” I say.

  “I got my present wrapped by Santa’s little helpers,” says the toothless man in front of us. I hand him the bag and grin at him.

  “You did indeed,” I say. “Have a very Merry Christmas.”

  He smiles at me and nods. “To you too.”

  I sigh, thinking I have a minute to gather myself and maybe pinch a cup of tea, but a shadow falls across me. I plaster a smile on my face and look up to find Noah standing in front of me. He has about ten paperback books in his hands and is resting his chin on the top of them to keep them from falling. He frowns and leans down to slide them on the counter. When he stands back up again, I notice he’s wearing a suit underneath his woollen coat.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks.

  “Working,” I say. “Well, volunteering actually. What are you doing here?”

  “You’re volunteering in a charity shop?” I hear the scepticism in his voice.

  I nod.

  “How long for?”

  I frown at him and start to check his books through the till. “I’m here all day.”

  He pulls his wallet from out of his pocket and opens it. “I mean, how long have you been doing this?�
��

  I shrug and total his purchases. “Since I was eleven. I had a break for a while when I was at uni because I couldn’t get here every week, but I come as often as I can and when they need me.”

  He nods. “Always this shop?”

  “That’ll be eighteen pounds and forty-five pence, please.”

  He hands me a twenty-pound note. “Put the change in the box,” he tells me.

  I ring it through the till and plop the change into the collection box. “Yes, it’s always the same shop, but I do other stuff too. Why are you buying so many books?” I pack his books into two separate carrier bags and hand them over the counter to him.

  “They’re for the waiting room on my ward,” he says. “I thought they needed refreshing.”

  “Good idea,” I say. I hate how awkward this feels.

  “Did you get your rota for Christmas?”

  I nod. “Yup. I have four days off. I have a day shift on Boxing Day and then I’m on nights until New Year’s.”

  “Similar to me,” he says, putting his wallet back into his pocket. “How was your head yesterday?”

  “Fine,” I say. It was my heart that wasn’t. “Yours?”

  “Sore,” he tells me. “I must have been drunker than I thought.”

  I don’t say anything back to him. I don’t want to think about the things he said. “See you then,” I say.

  “Have a good day,” he says as he turns around. “It’s going to be a busy one.”

  “I know,” I say. “There’s only two of us and we’re rushed off our feet.”

  He turns his head and looks at me, and it’s such a strange look that I feel everything around me slow down. His eyes are light today, almost grey, but they lock onto mine and stare right into me. What is he thinking? He nods just the once and then everything goes back to normal. I release the breath that I didn’t realise I’d been holding and feel my shoulders sag. “It’s forecast snow for this afternoon, so be careful on your way home,” he tells me.

  “You don’t need to worry about me,” I say quickly. “It’s Jandy who has to get a bus back up to the Moors.”