"Do you realise how bloody poetic that was?" he said and we both snorted with laughter just as his mushrooms arrived. The waiter gave us a polite nod and placed the plate between us, breaking the connection.
"Not bad for a welder, eh?" I said.
"I'm impressed." He stabbed a garlic covered fungus and popped it in his mouth. "Are you sure I can't tempt you?"
"I'll pass. They grow in shit you know."
"So do most vegetables," I said.
"Not like that. I mean, those things are related to athletes foot you know?"
Tom erupted in fits of laughter, throwing down his fork and wiping his giggling mouth with a napkin. Even the old couple smiled our way. Maybe they understood. Maybe.
"I didn't realise-" he said, still laughing. "You were an expert in the field."
"You'd be surprised," I replied. He carried on eating whilst I drank more of my coke and examined the table cloth again. When he was finished the waiter came and took his plate away and asked if we were ready for the mains. Tom nodded and wiped his mouth.
"You're right," he said.
"About what?"
"That's what happened to me and Rebecca."
"Who?"
"My ex-wife. That's what happened. We stopped loving each other and started hating each other instead. So I can't argue with your logic." He sipped his wine and looked at the couple in the corner. "I don't know how it happened. One day we were madly in love with each other and the next..." He shrugged. "She had an affair."
"I'm sorry," I said and I meant it.
"She was bored, she said. She thought I was cold and didn't care for her as much as I did for my son. She was right in a way. I woke up thinking about what it would be like to be single. I wanted to be single. Anything other than that."
"Than what?"
"Than hating the person I'd married. No," he said, correcting himself. "I didn't hate her. Hate is an emotion and I didn't feel anything for her any more. Not love. Not hate. Not anything. Then one day I found her phone and there were these texts to another bloke. We argued. We talked. I left. Do you know what the funny thing was?" I shook my head. "I was glad. As soon as I saw those messages I felt relieved. It was like being told you were getting out of prison early, like I was free to live again. Terrible, isn't it?"
"I don't know," I said. "I've never been in that situation before."
"Well let me tell you, it is. It's awful to realise that the person you said your vows to is the person you're trying to escape from. That's not love. I don't know what it is. I guess what I'm trying to say is you're right - that's how it ends. Either you get divorced or one of you breaks and knuckles under, takes it on the chin and chooses a life of misery rather than face whatever is left."
"And what's left, Tom?" He shrugged, turned away, looked across the room into nothing.
"I don't know," he said. His eyes looked moist. "I wish I could say life, love and happiness, but if I'm honest I just don't know."
"So why are we here? Why are we doing this?" I asked. Just then the waiter showed up again with two rectangular plates that looked more like barges. My pizza, still steaming, was put in front of me and I was offered some black pepper which I declined.
When he'd gone, Tom turned to me and drank some more of his wine before saying, "I want to be proved wrong."
"You want us both to be proved wrong," I said. He nodded, cutting into his medium-rare piece of steak which was about the size of half a cow. There was a jacket potato and some various greens delicately placed here and there on the plate - useless furniture in my opinion.
"Maybe we are. Maybe we've been burned and now we're looking at the world through tainted glasses and how would we know?"
"I think the evidence speaks for itself," I said, slicing into my pizza. "Your story is the same one I've heard at Riley's, my friends-"
"Mel?"
"Yeah, her too but not just her. It's the same for everyone. The passion is gone. The hate comes. Slagging each other off. Taking the piss out of each other. I've never heard anything else."
"Aren't you willing to try? Maybe see if the outcome ever changes?”
It was my turn to shrug. "And at what point do you admit we're both right and it'll never work? When we're married and it's too late to turn back?"
"I don't know." He ate another piece of meat and smiled. "What do you think?"
"I think you've had too much to drink."
"I think I haven't had enough. Women usually can't wait to go out with me. They don't start arguing there's no point during a romantic meal."
"Romantic meal? There's me, you and a couple who I think are sharing a starters. It's the middle of the day and we're both tipsy on mulled wine. How is this romantic?"
"You're a tough nut to crack."
"I work at Riley's - it comes with the welding mask."
He looked down at his plate and began laughing. It was infectious. The old couple looked across at us and smiled too. Could I take a risk on this man? Was there a chance we were wrong? What did I have to lose?
"Okay," I said.
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. But the moment I think it's going Pete Tong-"
"I understand," he said. He raised his wine glass and I clinked it with my diet coke. There was a break in the clouds. I saw a sliver of blue after years of black and something fluttered in my stomach and burned its way into my heart.
We finished our meal and when it came to paying the bill Tom waved away my twenty and paid for it himself. Then we walked out onto the street and the cold air hit me a little too hard. I stood there for a moment and waited for it to pass.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. I've had a nice day but I need to get home. I need to speak to Mel."
"Is she okay?"
"Sorry - I forgot to say, her Dad was taken ill. She said she'd ring me tonight."
"I understand. I'll see you on Monday then?"
"Yeah. You will."
I felt his arms close around my waist and I turned to hug him without thinking - it felt natural, right. I got to breathe him, to feel what it might be like to be happy and in love. Then it was over. He pulled away and smiled before putting his hands in his pockets and began to walk away. I wanted more. Right there, right then. I was sure he did too but in a moment he was gone around the corner and I was stood there in the winter day, cold and feeling a little more sober.
9.
When I got back to the flat it was beginning to go dark. The cold chill had stayed with me all day and the moment I got in I flicked the heater control and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I still had my two mulled wine mugs and I gave them a rinse and put them on the rack to dry, smiling at the memory. It'd been a great day. Were there more to come? I began to hope so.
Just as I was stirring the tea, I heard my phone chime in my pocket. I looked and it was a text from Tom.
GREAT DAY. WE CAN MAKE THIS WORK X
I took the phone and the brew into the living room and sat down on the settee, tapping out my reply with one hand.
I LOVED TODAY. WE CAN TRY X
I pressed send and put my feet up, kicking off my boots and undoing the scarf around my neck. The heater was just starting to warm the place up but it was making a racket in the process. I wondered how Mel was, trying not to sit there waiting for Tom to say something more. I couldn't help but keep refreshing the screen though, itching to hear it chime again. Which it did.
DO YOU THINK WE'LL BE ALLOWED BACK IN DEBENHAMS?
I laughed.
PROBS NOT. THAT WITCH IN WHITE WOULD KILL US.
Another sip of tea. I laid back on the settee and put my feet up, wiggling my toes in the cold. I couldn't stop smiling. I kept thinking my face was broken or that the wind had changed and I was stuck, grinning like an idiot.
SHE DID LOOK A BIT PISSED OFF. SHE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT MY MUM SMELLED LIKE. HOW USELESS IS SHE?
YEAH - WHY DIDN'T SHE KNOW WHAT YOUR MUM SMELLED LIKE? EVERYBODY KNOWS WHAT YOUR MUM SM
ELLS LIKE!
WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY ABOUT MY MUM?
NOTHING. YOU SAID YOU KNOW WHAT SHE SMELLS LIKE. DON'T YOU THINK THAT'S A BIT WIERD?
NOT REALLY. WHAT DOES YOUR MUM SMELL LIKE?
I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T SMELL HER WHEN I GO ROUND LIKE YOU DO.
YOU SHOULD. SHE MIGHT SMELL NICE.
I DON'T REALLY CARE WHAT SHE SMELLS LIKE.
I couldn't believe we were discussing what our mums smelled like over text message. But just as I was about to respond with something witty, the phone started to ring. It was Mel.
"Mel!" I said. "What's the news?"
"He's going to be okay, thank god," said Mel and it sounded like she really was relieved to be saying it. "They were able to re inflate the lung and seal the tear up. Years of smoking has done this to him, Soph. At least he's listening to us now."
"Hopefully he'll carry on listening," I said. "He might not get another chance."
"Well that's it. Anyway, I'm okay now that I know he's going to be all right but I'll be staying with Mum for a few days until he's home. Are things okay with you? How did it go?"
I filled her in on my day and what we'd said in the restaurant. She giggled all the way through my story and when I'd finished I could hear her clapping down the phone.
"Oh Soph - I'm so happy," she said.
"Let's not get clanging wedding bells together, Mel. We said we'd try. I never said it would work."
"I have a feeling it will. Trust me."
We talked for a bit longer and then we said goodbye, promising to call each other the next day. I felt cruel but I really wanted to say goodbye so I could check the last message Tom had sent me. I'd even thought about switching to hands free during Mel's call so I could do both but I'd changed my mind. I guess my selfishness had some limits. I swiped my messages and there it was.
HOW'S MEL?
JUST SPOKE TO HER. DAD IS OK. SHE IS STOPPING OVER FOR A FEW DAYS UNTIL HE'S HOME.
GOOD NEWS! WILL SHE BE BACK BY FRIDAY?
WHY?
DRINKS WITH MY MATE. REMEMBER?
Oh yeah, I thought. I tapped another text out, this one to Mel.
TOM SAYS DRINKS NEXT FRIDAY WITH HIS MATE. WHAT SHOULD I SAY?
I waited for a reply, wondering if I could concentrate on the book I was reading or whether I should just sit in the dark with some music on. Deep down, what I really wanted to do was call Tom and have him over. I decided to resist that urge and the fantasy that went with it.
The phone chimed.
TELL HIM I'LL DO MY BEST TO BE BACK. IS THIS GUY HOT?
HOW WOULD I KNOW?
ASK.
I tapped out another message to Tom.
MEL WANTS TO KNOW IF THIS MATE IS HOT.
I'M A GUY - HOW WOULD I KNOW?
TRY.
I SUPPOSE. HE IS IN MEL'S LEAGUE.
WHAT LEAGUE AM I IN THEN?
THE ONE ABOVE IT. PREMIER.
RIGHT ANSWER X
I messaged Mel and she just sent me an emoji of a winking face as her answer. Then I wrote another to Tom.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW?
WAITING FOR FILM TO START.
WHAT FILM?
COMMANDO.
ARNIE?
YEAH.
LET OFF SOME STEAM, BENNET!
I LIKE YOU, SULLY. THAT'S WHY I'M GOING TO KILL YOU LAST.
CLASSIC FILM. MIGHT WATCH IT MYSELF.
ITV. STARTS IN FIVE.
ON IT.
I turned on the TV, which I rarely did, and put it on ITV. Then I got myself another brew and by the time I came back it was just starting.
IS IT DISRESPECTFUL TO TEXT THROUGH AN ARNIE FILM?
I smiled.
YES. IT'S OKAY TO TALK THOUGH.
MY ARM WOULD GO DEAD IF I RANG YOU.
TRUE. BETTER FACE TO FACE THOUGH.
???
I couldn't help it. My stomach wasn't butterflies any more - it was an entire bird cage with a cat on the top. I wanted him sat with me. I wanted him there, in my flat, as soon as he possibly could. I text back with trembling fingertips.
TAXI.
ON ITS WAY. WHERE?
I typed my address but had to edit it a few times. When I hit 'send' I almost ran to the bathroom and started the shower, taking off my clothes whilst I waited for a reply. When it came I was already washed and out.
ON MY WAY. DO YOU HAVE A DVD PLAYER?
YES.
BRINGING ARNIE WITH ME.
OK.
I brushed my hair and tied it back with a bobble, then got into my SpongeBob pyjamas and made sure the heating was just right. Arnie was duking it out on the TV but I was too nervous to pay any attention. I got the enormous fleece blanket my Mum had bought me for my birthday and threw it over the settee, taking one last look around to make sure the place was presentable. When I sat back down I heard a car pull up outside and I ran to the door to open it.
I watched him come up the stairs and he had a carrier bag in one hand and a bottle in the other.
"We can't watch Arnie without snacks," he said. "Plus I thought a nice red would go with it."
"Arnie, wine and food. Wins me over every time," I said, letting him in. "Here, give me your coat." He took it off and I noticed he'd changed into a creamy coloured jumper and he smelled faintly of a fruity soap. It made my heart race and I wondered if I was heading for some sort of embolism.
"Go on through," I said, hanging his coat up next to mine.
I went into the kitchen and found two large wine glasses, setting them on the coffee table and he filled both to the brim.
“That's poor etiquette,” I said, giggling. “You're only...”
“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “To the first mark. I'm not one for ceremony though.” He grinned and I sat down on one side of the settee whilst he sat on the other.
"The DVD is in," he said. "Just hit play."
I found the remote and tried not to let my nerves show. The truth was I hadn't used the thing in ages and I was begging it to just work first time, which it did, thankfully. Before I knew it we were right back at the start, watching Arnie pretend to be a loving Dad and failing miserably.
"I never thought you'd be into a film like this," said Tom.
"My Dad got me into them," I said. "He's a big fan of the classic '80s action flicks."
"Same here. That's how I know them. Then I started buying them myself when videos went to DVDs. I got this last year off my son."
Twenty minutes in and I realised that throwing the fleece over the settee hadn't been my best idea. I was starting to shiver and I was reminded that the gas was on a meter and it'd clearly run out of credit. The thing was humming away but the radiator was cold.
"Can I just...?" I said, indicating the fleece. Tom got up and I gathered it around my shoulders, pulling my bare feet up under me but I was still cold. I felt like a fool but I tried to ignore it. That's the thing about shivering - you're largely out of control when it happens.
Without realising it he'd paused the film.
"Go and get your quilt if you're cold," he said. "We're not standing on ceremony, are we?"
"Well it's not exactly classy is it?"
"I don't mean to be rude, but neither of us is really that 'classy'."
"Speak for yourself!" I cried. "I'm a lady."
"Well you're a cold, stubborn lady if you don't go and get us the quilt. I want to take my boots off and get warm too you know!"
I got up and went into my bedroom, praying that the quilt didn't smell too bad. Living with your flatmate had its down side. You never expected to show your quilt to the public.
"Is the gas on a meter?" he called.
"Yeah."
"Thought so."
I dragged the quilt along on my shoulder and he kicked off his boots, showing his odd socks - one grey, one black.
"See - hardly a gentleman, am I?" he said, laughing. "They're clean though."
"I should hope so," I said, sitting back down. His clear and unasham
ed ploy worked. The quilt wasn't long enough to go over us both without us sitting next to each other. I was just fine with that and he raised his arm to make room for me. "Better?" I asked.
"Oh yeah. That one always works. Ring the gas board, have them cut off your heating, then trick you into getting your quilt so you have to sit in my arms. I'm a genius."
"I bet you've tried this on all the ladies," I said, laughing.
"Works every time." He grabbed my head and jerked it gently. "Don't wake my friend, she's dead tired," he said in his best Arnie accent.
Oh god, I thought, I'm so bloody happy right now. I was smiling. My heart was thumping in my chest so hard I thought it was going to explode. It'd been so long since I'd felt like that, felt the heat between my thighs, the passion in my bones that wanted to look up at him and take his rugged face in my hands and touch his lips with mine. To kiss him, to press myself into him, to have him inside me. It wasn't just hot, raw lust - it was a fire that terrified me, one that I wasn't sure could be quenched.
I tried to concentrate on the film but as I led there in his arms he turned slightly so that I was lying with my back against his chest, his arms around my shoulders, embracing me, brushing against my breasts. I felt his lips touch the top of my head, kissing softly, communicating the same message. I held his hands, lifted them to my mouth, kissed them, pulled them close to me. I wanted him to know what I was feeling, where I wanted him to take me. It had to be now, it had to be here.
The Unfinished Tale Of Sophie Anderson Page 10
