The Single Girl’s Calendar

by Erin Green

  Esmé popped her head into the main lounge – empty and very tidy. She closed the door and tried the dining room – empty too.

  The guys must be in the kitchen.

  ‘Morning!’ Esmé burst into the morning room like a ray of sunshine. She was met by the panda eyes of a blonde woman slumped at the central table, cradling a mug and staring aimlessly at the fireplace. She hadn’t tidied her hair or washed, and her bare legs protruded from an oversized man’s shirt haphazardly buttoned down the front.

  ‘Eh, oh yeah, morning,’ muttered the woman.

  Dam’s head appeared around the archway, a wooden spatula in hand.

  ‘Morning Esmé, did you sleep alright?’

  Esmé looked from Dam to the woman and back again.

  Best not to ask.

  ‘Yes thanks, and you?’ Esmé darted through the archway to join him at the cooker only to find Asa seated on the marbled work top, bare chested and clad in jeans, cradling a coffee mug too.

  ‘Morning, precious, am I in for another beating today?’ he said, to her surprised face.

  ‘Let’s face it, you deserved it, frightening me like that,’ she replied, diverting her eyes from his bare chest to the blobby eggs Dam was nudging around in a frying pan.

  Oh shit, she’d mentioned face again.

  ‘Hardly premeditated though, was it?’ he muttered.

  Esmé stared at him, noting the tattooed formation of peacock feathers clearly visible in daylight. His dark eyes stared straight back, before his brow quivered and she returned her gaze to Dam’s eggs.

  Dam lifted the pan, took his plate from the other work top unit and swiftly tipped his eggs onto the white crockery. Esmé watched intensely, purely to avoid looking up at Asa.

  ‘You want this?’ Dam asked, offering her the handle of the frying pan.

  ‘Please.’

  Dam returned the pan to the stove, vacated the hotspot and settled at the table opposite the blonde. Asa sipped his coffee and watched her.

  Now what? I stupidly said yes, when I should have said no. This tattoo guy heard me say yes, he’s now expecting me to cook. I could simply put the frying pan into the sink and make a drink, he’ll probably never notice. But if he does, he’ll think I’m weird. Which I am for saying yes when I don’t want fried eggs, I’d have liked…

  ‘Are you alright?’ asked Asa, staring down from his perch, obviously witness to her hesitation.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yep, you with the frying pan.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘You haven’t been shopping, have you?’

  ‘What?’ snapped Esmé, her brow furrowed in irritation.

  ‘You moved in yesterday, you haven’t had any boxes delivered by your parents and you didn’t get around to going shopping, did you?’ he repeated.

  ‘No, but I don’t see what that has to do with you.’

  ‘Because… you’ll need eggs if you’re going to cook any… you can borrow two of mine if you want – they’re over in the fridge, top shelf.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Borrow, lending… you pay back later when you’ve been to the shop, get it?’

  She looked up at Asa, who started to chuckle.

  ‘Damn, you’re hard work, babe.’ At that Asa jumped down from the worktop, opened the fridge and grabbed a box of six eggs. ‘Here, take two but make sure you replace them. I’ll let you off for using my milk and coffee yesterday.’

  ‘I… I… thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Asa, and walked through into the morning room where Dam continued to chomp his eggs. ‘… if it saves me from getting a beating.’

  Esmé’s head whipped round on hearing the end of his comment, her eyes taking in the length of his retreating back – olive skin smattered with colourful tattoos. She could see his muscles ripple beneath his painted skin.

  Dam laughed and nodded his head while his jaws continued to chomp. The blonde sipped her drink, picked at her finger nails and ignored Asa as he joined her side of the table.

  Who was she anyway? Russ’s girlfriend perhaps? Should I have introduced myself. How rude of me not too.

  Esmé removed the frying pan from the stove, refilled the kettle and flicked the switch.

  ‘I’m making a fresh brew, anyone want one? Dam? Asa? Ummm…’ she approached the blonde. ‘Would you like a top up? Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.’

  ‘Me? It’s Crystal. I’ll be off in a minute, I’ll just finish this,’ she said, lifting the mug to show the dregs at the bottom.

  Crystal. Who in their right mind called a kid Crystal?

  Dam lowered his head.

  ‘You can borrow my coffee again if you wish, but remember that once you’ve been shopping you’re on your own,’ laughed Asa, swigging his cooling drink. ‘No free loading.’

  She made her coffee before returning to the stove to cook the eggs.

  ‘I heard someone playing the flute earlier,’ she said, breaking the silence.

  ‘Next door,’ said Dam, putting his dirty plate into the dishwasher. ‘You could hear it when we viewed the house, couldn’t you, Asa?’

  ‘Yeah,’ was all Asa said.

  Crystal suddenly stood up and placed her dirty mug in the sink.

  ‘I’ll be heading off then, see ya… thanks for the coffee.’ Her shirt-come-dress barely covered her behind thanks to a shaped front and tails.

  ‘Oh right, see you again,’ said Esmé, looking up from plating her eggs, before she grabbed cutlery from the drawer.

  Neither male spoke. The morning room door closed as she seated herself beside Dam at the table and began to tuck in.

  Several minutes passed. Esmé was engrossed in her eggs when she heard a snort and from the corner of her eye saw Dam’s shoulders shudder uncontrollably.

  ‘What?’ Looking up to see both blokes dying with laughter. ‘Have I got something on my face?’

  Asa stopped laughing, Dam roared even louder, throwing his head back so that his beard danced as his jaw moved up and down.

  ‘What, have you got something on your face?’ asked Asa, leaning across the table. ‘Are you for real?’

  Esmé sat, knife and fork suspended, and stared from one to the other as both men belly laughed.

  What’s the joke?

  ‘You’ve no idea, have you?’ spluttered Asa.

  ‘Seriously, another comedy moment… woman, you kill me,’ hissed Dam.

  Esmé picked up her plate of half eaten eggs and stood up.

  ‘I’ll go and eat elsewhere if it’s alright with you pair, maybe you’ll grow up and learn some manners for the breakfast table.’

  Breakfast with Andrew was always civilised: drink coffee, eat and chat about the day ahead. This would take some getting used to.

  Esmé left the morning room, balancing her coffee mug on her plate, and headed for the dining room. As the door closed behind her she heard Asa mutter, ‘see you again’ before a new eruption of laughter bellowed out.

  *

  The heavens opened as Esmé walked back from the bus stop lugging three plastic carrier bags which cut ridges into her palms. Being thrifty seemed like a better idea than ordering a cab but being drenched to the skin wasn’t part of her plan. The sight of their gate post quickened her pace along with the thought of hot chocolate topped with freshly whipped cream and the marshmallows currently at the bottom of one of the heavy bags.

  As soon as her key turned in the lock, she could hear the commotion inside: male voices loud and deep coming from the lounge. She closed the door, dropped her handbag and removed her dripping coat. Quickly flicking off her shoes revealed her soaked feet as she tiptoed towards the kitchen with the carrier bags banging against her legs.

  Once unpacked, with Asa’s small stash neatly repaid on the work top, she headed for the lounge. A moment of hesitation saw her linger outside the door trying to count the number of voices she could hear within: Russ, Asa, possibly Kane and Jonah. It’s now or never.

  Esm�
� entered the lounge, the four men were in various positions, sitting and lying about on couches, armchairs and pouffes, all mesmerised by and shouting at a football game on the large plasma tv. An array of cans, coke bottles and crisp packets were either clutched in their hands or scattered around the shag pile carpet.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, as she stood between the couch and the single armchair.

  No answer. Not a single grunt.

  ‘Hello,’ she called a little louder, above the rant of the four referees pointing and shouting at an on screen foul.

  No answer.

  How bloody rude! This is exactly how Andrew used to behave when a match was on, cheering, swearing and ranting at the screen as if the referee could hear his abuse and advice. He can’t! Why does every man think he’s the world’s best football manager from the comfort of his armchair?

  Without thinking she crossed the room and swiped the neon blue light at the bottom of the screen. The football match died. Silence instantly descended. Esmé turned, hands on hips, to face the rabble.

  ‘Hi fellas, I’m home,’ she sang sweetly, turning to each stunned bloke in turn. ‘Asa, I’ve left a pile of goodies on the worktop to repay you for lending me coffee, milk and eggs.’

  Asa simply nodded and looked around her body at the blank screen.

  ‘Oh Kane, nice to see you again… have you come to check how I’ve settled in?’ Esmé smiled sweetly at her brother.

  Kane remained mute, eyes wide, biting the inside of his cheek.

  ‘Jonah, where did you get to last night, not even a goodbye?’

  Jonah emptied a bag of crisps into his open mouth, but choked on being addressed.

  ‘I… left…’ he spluttered, eyes watering.

  ‘No Dam?’ asked Esmé.

  ‘Having dinner at his parents’ house,’ chorused Russ and Asa in unison.

  ‘Russell, have a good night, did you?’

  ‘Yes thanks… Esmé, would you mind?’ Russ waved his hand in a passing motion towards the tv.

  Kane got up and swiped at the screens ‘on/off’ area. Esmé remained standing, unsure of what to do.

  ‘Now, can we please—’ Russ pointed to the screen.

  ‘Esmé… I mean can someone ask my sister to move!’ shouted Kane, who pulled a face at the other guys.

  ‘Seriously, drop the whole silent treatment,’ snapped Asa. ‘You spoke to her last night and she can hear you saying it.’

  ‘Are you not speaking to me, Kane?’

  ‘Someone tell my sister, what do you think?’ asked Kane, addressing the males.

  ‘Seriously, how old are you?’ said Russ.

  ‘Oh did-dums…’ Esmé’s bottom lip protruded towards her mute brother.

  ‘Will someone tell my sister it’s not a Villa game, so she won’t be missing anything if she leaves the room!’

  ‘Esmé, please!’ snapped Russ, as he pointed to the blank screen.

  ‘I hope your girlfriend wasn’t offended at breakfast… Dam and Asa hardly said a word to her, did you?’

  ‘My girlfriend?’ asked Russ, and his eyes widened.

  Jonah choked for a second time.

  ‘You alright over there, Jonah?’ asked Asa, ‘Anything you want to say?’

  ‘Crystal. She only had a coffee but still, you were hardly pleasant to her, were you?’ said Esmé to Asa.

  ‘Jonah… seriously, anything to add?’ asked Asa, with a bemused expression.

  Jonah looked away, brushing crisps from his front.

  Esmé looked from one to the other. She was slightly lost in the conversation or how to proceed given the sea of smirking faces, so moved from centre stage as the football commentary came back to life and the lounge breathed a sigh of relief on seeing an unchanged score.

  Instantly, the volume of cheering, shouting and beer swigging resumed as though no interruption had occurred.

  ‘See you again!’ mimicked Kane, as Esmé left the room.

  As the lounge door closed, Esmé heard Asa say, ‘Shhhh, we told you that in confidence.’

  ‘Don’t shhhh me about my own sister, I told you about the Villa hat, didn’t I?’

  She returned to the kitchen, peeled off her wet socks and began making her hot chocolate.

  What’s so bloody funny about being polite and interacting with housemates? Obviously in this day and age, manners don’t exist and everything is highly hilarious. Surely if they were going to share a house they needed to communicate with everyone, even girlfriends at the breakfast table.

  She heaped the cocoa powder into a mug and boiled the kettle.

  Neither of the blokes had kissed Crystal goodbye so obviously she was neither of theirs. Russ should be glad she was polite and made an effort. Her mobile rang in her pocket interrupting her thoughts.

  Carys.

  ‘Hi,’ said Esmé, instantly brighter, putting her friend on loud speaker.

  ‘Just checking you’re still alive.’

  ‘Certainly am… are you free to talk?’

  Esmé continued with her drink as she explained last night’s antics. Within minutes she was seated on the morning room couch, chatting away, with a pile of the pink and white marshmallows melting down the side of her mug.

  ‘Hardly normal behaviour from a grown man. How were you to know?’ came Carys’s voice over loud speaker.

  ‘I had no idea… did I?’ said Esmé, lost in conversation.

  Asa came into the morning room, walked to the kettle area and began making a drink.

  ‘That’s what I said, who in their right mind enters a house by…’ Esmé stalled as her gaze met Asa’s. She blushed, switching her call from loud speaker to her ear.

  ‘Please continue… don’t mind me,’ he said, as he turned his back on her conversation and reached for a collection of mugs.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Esmé into her phone, avoiding looking in his direction in case she stared.

  Pause.

  ‘Exactly.’

  Pause.

  ‘Er, erm… not quite but yeah. Arse about face really.’

  Asa whipped round from his coffee making. Esmé blushed, yet again she’s mentioned the ‘F’ word.

  ‘You haven’t mentioned the poker yet, tell her about smashing me one with the poker – a pretty decent defence strategy for a young woman. She might want to buy one too.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Esmé to Asa, her hand covering her mobile mouthpiece.

  ‘The poker… don’t forget all the details, she’ll want to know it all.’

  ‘Excuse me, Carys. I’m being interrupted, just a second,’ said Esmé into her phone. ‘Asa, do you mind? I’m on the phone.’

  ‘I know but you’re missing out the best bits just because I walked in, don’t… I really don’t mind.’

  ‘Well, I do, thank you very much,’ retorted Esmé. ‘Hi Carys – I’m back. No, no. Yes.’

  Silence.

  ‘Rudeness really,’ said Esmé.

  Asa collected the multiple handles of the coffee mugs and made his way from the kitchen into the morning room.

  ‘Bye Carys!’ he shouted as he passed the couch.

  Esmé frowned.

  Asa smiled.

  ‘Nobody, don’t worry,’ said Esmé, into her phone.

  The door swung closed as Asa left the room.

  ‘A bloke called Asa, don’t worry,’ she explained, adding, ‘He’s just an arse.’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’m adorable,’ shouted a voice through the closed door.

  ‘You’re an arse!’ shouted Esmé in temper.

  She sat stunned and open mouthed, her mobile clutched to her chest in disbelief at her own rudeness, before continuing her call.

  *

  Esmé lay on her bed reading a glossy magazine she’d picked up in the supermarket, when a sharp rap on her bedroom door disturbed the peace.

  ‘Yes?’ she called, hoping it wasn’t her brother come to convince her to swap homes.

  When there was no answer, she slid from the mattress to ope
n the door.

  ‘Oh, it’s you!’ she said, as Asa filled the open doorway.

  ‘Yep, me, the arse… just come to see how you’re settling in at Chez Montague.’

  ‘Fine.’ Her arm remained outstretched, her hand firmly on the door handle, visibly blocking his path.

  Don’t stare at the tattoo. Look him straight in the eyes. Don’t look. Oh shit, I looked.

  Asa looked over her head into her empty room.

  ‘Need a hand moving any boxes?’

  ‘Er no. I haven’t collected my belongings yet.’

  ‘I see, parents delivering them, are they?’

  ‘Nope. I just haven’t arranged collection yet.’

  Asa leant against the door jamb.

  ‘You leaving that calendar on the mantelpiece?’

  ‘What?’ Esmé turned to view her room. ‘No, well, yes for now, but no.’ She pulled the door a little further closed behind her body to block his view.

  ‘Hardly an ornament to admire on the mantelpiece, that’s all, but if it’s all you’ve got?’

  ‘What? No.’ scowled Esmé, puffing out her cheeks. ‘What do you want, Asa?’

  ‘You nearly called me arse then,’ smiled Asa.

  ‘No I didn’t, you don’t know me well enough to predict what I was about to say. You know nothing about me, so please don’t try…’ Her eyes drifted across his face to the blue and green tattoo before snapping back to his dark eyes.

  ‘To finish your sentences?’

  ‘What? Urggh!’

  ‘I’m only kidding with you,’ he peeled himself from the wooden frame surround. ‘Look, I’ve come to apologise, OK?’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For earlier when you were chatting on the phone, and then this morning when we rudely laughed at you for not understanding our guest at breakfast, and for mimicking your goodbye to her and then for telling your brother the whole story which gave him a bloody good laugh too… so, sorry.’

  ‘Well don’t.’

  ‘But I want to.’

  ‘But I don’t want you to.’ What didn’t I understand? What did I say that was so funny?

  ‘You’re thinking now, aren’t you?’ asked Asa. ‘I can see the cogs whirring.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘You are, I can see it. You’re thinking what’s he on about? What didn’t I get? What didn’t I understand? And that’s OK because I think it’s sweet that you didn’t get the breakfast situation.’