by Helly Acton
‘Shit!’ Millie says when she sees it’s almost 8 a.m., swinging her legs to the side of the bed and putting her feet down. ‘Shit!’ she says again when she stands on something. Lying on the floor is the daisy from Ben’s clown suit that he gave her in the office loos at the summer party. Millie picks it up, hobbles over to her dressing table and hangs it on the mirror.
It’ll be quicker to run to work and shower there, she decides, opening her wardrobe to search for clean workout gear.
‘Shit!’ she repeats, louder. She forgot to put a wash on. Frustrated, she opens the laundry basket to find last Wednesday’s running outfit, her mind feeling foggy as she pulls the Lycra over her head and catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She wishes she hadn’t. Her face is so pale it looks transparent, and her eye bags are the colour of the pavement outside. Who is she this morning? Millie isn’t the type to miss her alarm, forget about laundry day and . . . crap. She turns to see Bruce staring at her from the hall. There’s no cat food left. She was supposed to order it yesterday.
Hopping into her joggers, Millie hurries through to the fridge to see what she can whip up in the zero minutes she has. Do cats eat scrambled eggs? No, there’s no time to cook. She pulls out a Fuel for One box and glances at the label. Lamb fillet and sweet potato. It’s Bruce’s lucky day.
Despite it being summer, the park air feels cool this morning. Millie breathes it in through her nose and out through her mouth in a steady rhythm, attempting to distract herself from the stabbing stitch in her side and hoping the fresh air will clear her head. It’s currently clouded with conversation replays from last night, which are making her sides ache even harder. She starts laughing when she remembers the competition for their best thumb impression, lying back on the pillows with their phones at their chests, their chins splayed. Perhaps, one day, they could be just friends. The prospect seems impossible right now. Her crush on Ben is undeniable, but she’s hopeful it will pass. Millie closes her eyes briefly and flashes back to the kiss at the summer party. Her insides curl up as she does, remembering the feeling of his lips on hers. That eucalyptus smell filling her nose. His surprisingly strong hands running their way up her back towards her neck and pulling her closer.
‘Woah!’ cries an alarmed voice.
Startled, Millie opens her eyes, just in time to see a dog walker right in front of her. She gasps and veers to the left of him, staggering across the grass and stumbling into a tree. She stands up and waves an apology with muddy, scraped hands. She imagines what her mum might say.
Pull yourself together, Millie!
OUT OF ORDER
‘Nooo!’ Millie moans when she sees the sign on the shower at work, followed by a long groan when she spots herself in the mirror. An Alice band of sweat and . . . she sniffs her skin . . . her dirty running outfit has left a foot smell all over her. She splashes herself with water and sink soap that smells of toilet spray.
At least her work clothes are fresh, she thinks, unfolding the black cigarette pants and black lace blouse and . . . oh, for fuck’s sake. What is wrong with her today?
‘Is it Casual Monday?’ Sasha comments, glancing at Millie’s running shoes.
‘I forgot to pack my pumps this morning,’ Millie replies.
Neither of them will forget Friday night that easily.
As Sasha adjusts the height of Ruth’s seat to make it taller than anyone else’s, she stares at Millie’s hairline.
Millie dumps her bags down on her desk and starts searching for her water bottle.
‘Didn’t you get my email?’ Sasha says, swivelling her chair round to face Millie and crossing her legs.
Millie stares at her blankly.
‘I want a senior to sit in with the creative interns. To keep them in check and offer a little guidance and feedback. So I’ve moved your desk there, just on a trial basis. As you were running late this morning, I thought I’d give you a hand, so I sent Skye to move your stuff.’
‘But this has always been my desk,’ Millie replies, feeling her breath getting shorter and her hands start to tremble as she begins to realise just how many things Sasha might start to unravel now that she has the reins – and a reason for being vindictive.
‘Well, it’s time for a shake-up!’ Sasha cries. ‘Sometimes I wonder what those creative interns actually do every day. Judging by the quality of their ideas, I’m guessing they sit there picking their noses until the clock strikes six. Well, now you can watch them.’
@bene:
you’re online but I can’t see you
@bene:
invisible cloak? are you giving the finger to Sasha right now
@milliej:
desk move :(
@bene:
what? where?
@milliej:
intern hub
@milliej:
have to ‘keep an eye on them’
@bene:
who’s going to keep an eye on me though
@bene:
don’t you dare say sasha
@bene:
tea? kitchen?
Millie is stirring the teabags in the kitchen when Ben appears carrying the cactus from his desk. He’s drawn a smiley face with a pointy tooth on a sticky note and attached it to one of the spines at the top. He holds it up to his face and grins. Seeing his cheery face in the flesh always brings her such comfort. She’s going to miss having the real one on tap across the creative hub.
‘Just a little something to remember me by,’ he says. ‘His name is Ken. He enjoys long walks by the river and conversations about the weather. He’s to help you remember me.’
‘Why, are you going somewhere?’ she asks, smiling. ‘And can you take me with you?’
Ben’s face drops. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ve just always thought of us as strictly deskmates. But now that you aren’t at your desk, you’re dead to me,’ he says, shrugging and taking a victory sip, inhaling sharply through his teeth.
‘Burn your tongue?’ she asks casually.
‘Yeth,’ he whispers.
Millie laughs, takes the plant and spins it round.
‘My goodness, you two just can’t bear to be apart, can you?’ Sasha says loudly as she comes round the corner, opening the fridge door to reveal that it’s floor-to-ceiling with pots of the same brand of yoghurt. She takes one and strides off. Seconds later, Ben opens the fridge door, grabs one and chucks it in the bin.
For a few minutes, it was as if she and Ben could forget that Friday night ever happened and go back to being friends. They stand there, reeling in the silence of Sasha’s comment, until Millie makes her excuses and heads back to her desk with Ken Plant.
Ben is like a sugar rush. A temporary pick-me-up. He gives Millie such a high when he’s there and sends her crashing down when he’s not. At home that evening, following an afternoon of silence on work messenger, she slumps back onto the sofa and holds up the vision board she made with Vivian when she was sixteen years old, that mapped her life intentions. It’s almost fourteen years old now, and the pictures are starting to curl up at the edges. She lowers it to watch Bruce slowly lick his paws. A wave of irrational envy washes over her. She wishes she were a cat. Bruce doesn’t have to worry about work, relationships – romantic or otherwise – or turning thirty. He doesn’t lie in bed awake at night, wondering why it feels like he can’t move forward with his life.
Millie is the only one whose life is going backwards. Ruth is smashing it with her start-up. June is kicking ass at work and in the bedroom, probably literally. Al . . . well, she isn’t sure what Al is doing. But for some reason Al doesn’t seem to care. Maybe Millie should try to be more like her. Care less. What has Millie done in the last year to be proud of? She’s in the same old flat. Same old job. And now she’s even further away from being made chief creative officer than ever before. It feels like she’s gone right back to the start. Perhaps she should get a fringe. Maybe that’ll shake things up a bit.
Millie:
Should I get
a fringe?
June:
No.
Millie:
Why? I think it’ll suit me.
June:
It won’t.
Millie:
I’ll love it
June:
You’ll hate it.
An unexpected knock on the door sends a panic through her. She tiptoes to the keyhole and frowns at the visitor.
‘Dairy Devils?’ says the delivery woman when Millie opens the door gingerly.
‘No?’ Millie says.
‘For “Belle Jones, the one and only true chief creative officer”?’ The woman looks at her note, confused.
‘OK, yes, thanks,’ Millie says, taking the parcel and opening the lid. Inside is a family-sized peanut butter, honey and banana cheesecake with writing in cursive on top.
I’m fondue you.
Millie smiles as she shuts the front door with her foot and carries the precious cargo to the coffee table. As she stares at it pensively, her smile slowly fades. She picks up her phone and makes a call.
Thirty
Millie and June sit beside each other on the sofa, staring at the cheesecake on the coffee table in front of them.
‘OK, so what am I looking at?’ June asks.
‘It’s a cheesecake, from Ben.’
‘And why am I not eating it?’
‘It’s a cheesecake. From Ben,’ Millie says.
‘OK. Granted, it’s random, but what’s the big—’
‘I kissed Ben,’ Millie blurts out.
June’s eyes widen.
‘I kissed him at the party in the loos, but it was a stupid drunken mistake that I made because I was upset about the promotion. I didn’t tell you because I was confused.’
‘Bloody hell, Millie!’ June says. ‘That’s not like you!’
‘Yes, thank you! I know that!’ Millie cries. ‘But it didn’t mean anything.’
‘Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you,’ June says after a few seconds of shocked silence, glancing at the cheesecake.
‘What do you think it means?’ Millie says.
‘I think it’s pretty clear. It means that kiss was more than just a kiss,’ June replies. ‘For him, anyway. I mean, the writing is literally on the wall, or, in this case, on the cake. I’m fondue you. Ben loves you, Millie. This is an I love you cheesecake.’
‘It could be an I’m sorry cheesecake,’ Millie suggests.
‘If it was an I’m sorry cheesecake, it would say . . .’ June pauses momentarily to think. ‘I’m so so-brie.’
Millie giggles.
‘Can we brie friends again,’ June grins, pleased with herself.
Millie sighs, scraping the side of the cake with her spoon before slipping it into her mouth and leaving it there while she rests her chin on her hand.
‘How was it between you two in the office this morning?’ June asks.
‘It was fine until Sasha made a snide remark in front of us. Then it got super awkward and we didn’t speak for the rest of the day. I mean, what does fond even mean? You’re fond of friends. Perhaps this is a let’s be friends cheesecake.’
‘We’re best friends and I wouldn’t send you this cheesecake,’ June replies. ‘I’m telling you, it’s an I love you cheesecake. Sorry to freak you out.’
Millie is freaking out. But it isn’t the I love you cheesecake that’s doing it. It’s how the I love you cheesecake has made her feel. Inside, she’s dancing a celebration dance. But the celebration dance quickly turns into a flailing arms panic. She glances at June, who’s preoccupied with a piece of biscuit base. Should Millie tell her what’s really going on in her head, or will that freak June out, too? Any talk about couples makes June very uncomfortable – not that that’s what this would be, but this crush does go deeper than any she’s had before, so Millie feels like she needs help navigating whatever these emotions are. She knows June won’t judge her, if she’s just honest.
‘You know,’ Millie starts. ‘Ben used to have a girlfriend. So, I guess he’s the relationship type. If that’s a thing.’
‘He’s totally the type!’ June cries. ‘It took me two seconds to spot that when I first met him. I have an excellent relationship-type radar. And because he’s the type, you need to tread carefully. Maybe distance yourself from him. I don’t think you can be friends with someone you have feelings for, if you’re the relationship type, so this can only end badly if you carry on.’
Although June’s right, and it’s probably what they need, Millie winces at the idea of even more distance between them. Today was bad enough, being on the other side of the office and opposite Sniffy Steve. She really missed him. Ben, that is, not Steve. It turns out that without Ben, Slide is quite shit.
‘I guess it’ll be easier now we don’t sit opposite each other,’ Millie sighs.
‘It will be,’ June replies. ‘And if I were you, I’d just act like none of this ever happened. Don’t mention it at all. He’ll get the message soon enough.’
‘What, completely ignore this?’ Millie asks, pointing at the cake. ‘Not even a thank you?’
‘You don’t want to start a dialogue. Just pretend you never got it,’ June replies, smudging the message until it’s illegible and then licking the back of her spoon. ‘Say that Aarati nicked it, or something.’
‘Seems a bit harsh,’ Millie says.
June throws her spoon into the box and leans back on the sofa. ‘This is a cruel-to-be-kind situation, Millie. You’re doing him a favour in the long run. You aren’t the relationship type, and the sooner he knows it the better. You know what is harsh? Leading him on.’
June stares at the box and sits back up again. ‘OK, just one more bite.’
‘Well, you’ve just done one sit-up, so you’ve earned it,’ Millie says, putting her own spoon down and staring at June as she continues. She watches June chew and wonders how she’d take it if she told her the whole truth. About Tenby. About her feelings. About how this cheesecake really makes her feel. After a few seconds of chewing, June turns to her.
‘Why are you staring at me? Are you eat-shaming me?’ she asks.
‘So, I haven’t told you everything,’ Millie says.
‘Oh boy,’ June says, swallowing. ‘There’s more? What is it?’
‘I did something a bit stupid. And I should have told you at the time, but I was embarrassed. Actually worse, I was worried you’d try to stop me.’
‘You got your vagina pierced?’
‘No! Be serious.’
‘I’m deadly serious. I’ve been thinking about getting Vivian a voucher for her birthday.’
‘That working weekend away wasn’t exactly a working weekend. And by that I mean we didn’t do any work at all. We sort of had a minibreak together. There really was a storm, and we were stuck overnight. But then . . . he had the idea of staying for the day. Then, well, I suggested we stayed for another night . . .’ Millie grimaces.
‘So what? Friends go away for the weekend together. You didn’t have to fib about it, you could have told me,’ June replies.
‘I guess I didn’t tell you because the truth is, it didn’t feel like a friends weekend. It felt like a more-than-friends weekend. I mean, we even shared a bed. By accident, but still.’
‘How do you share a bed by accident? Did you fall into it, blackout drunk?’
‘No. It’s a long story.’
‘But you didn’t slide?’
‘No,’ Millie says.
‘Okaaay,’ June replies, slowly. ‘Sorry, what’s the issue? Apart from the fact that poor Ben probably thought he was well in there.’
‘I wouldn’t have spent the weekend with anyone else from work. Not even Ruth. Normally I’d want to get home, do laundry, have lunch with you and Mum. But I wanted to stay.’
‘Really? You liked Tenby that much?’ June asks, purposely missing the point.
‘No!’ Millie laughs. ‘I wanted to be with him. I want to be with him. All the time, June. I think that maybe I’m . . . fondu
e him too.’
June swallows the cheesecake that’s been sitting in her mouth and takes a long sip of water.
‘Please don’t vomit,’ Millie pleads. ‘Look, I don’t know, I’m confused. I’ve never had a crush like this before. I thought I just fancied him, but it feels stronger than that. It’s like my brain is infected. All I can think about is Ben Ben Ben, like a big clanging clock in my head. It’s making me do stupid things, like lie to you and Mum. And it’s distracting me from my work, which might be why I didn’t get the promotion. I literally ran into a tree this morning because I was in such a daze. Ever since I met him, it’s like I can think of nothing and no one else.’
June chucks her spoon into the box again. ‘Jesus, when I teased you about luuurving him, I was only joking!’
‘I don’t love him!’ Millie cries. ‘I think. I don’t know. I just like him. But more than like him. Is there anything in between like and love?’
‘Loke?’
‘I loke him. Ugh, what’s wrong with me? How can I, of all people, be having this conversation?’
‘Millie, don’t be so hard on yourself. So what? So, you told us a little fib or two. I’ve told you fibs before! That top I was wearing the other weekend? It is your top. And to be clear, the only reason you didn’t get the job was because Sasha stole your flippin’ ideas. So what? It’s not the right job for you. Perhaps it’s a sign that you need to think about moving on. And these feelings you have for Ben? The Millie I know would put it down to hormones. You’re not the relationship type. These feelings will pass. You’ll be fine.’
‘Maybe,’ Millie says, unsure.
‘I think you’ve got three options. First, give Ben a go and see what being in a couple is like. I mean, Ruth raves on about it, so perhaps it isn’t all bad. Although this option does come with a strongly worded caveat.’
‘Which is?’
‘I will disown you if you ever tell me that you’ve got to “check with Ben”.’
‘OK.’
‘Or start calling yourselves Billie.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Millie says, and laughs. ‘Anyway, that is not an option. Can you honestly imagine me in a couple? Can you imagine me losing control of my own life, all that change and all those sacrifices? Having to explain my life choices to people who want to know why I’m in a couple? Having to deliver another crushing blow to my mother?’
