by S M Mala
The only reaction he could feel was the need to cry and then he saw Toby, who obviously had heard what was going on. His brother took his hand and pulled him into his edit room before giving him a massive hug.
‘Fucking bitch whore Julie Lefuck. I hope she gets syphilis and has a painful death!’ said Toby sympathetically. ‘I hate her for doing this to you.’
‘It’s okay.’ Finlay quietly replied and pushed his fingers into the socket of his eyes to stop the tears. ‘What did mother tell you?’
‘That the whore bitch cow is fucking some man behind your back and we’re to support you. I love you Finlay but no one shits on my brother!’
‘And that’s all she said?’ he pried realising his mother had omitted the baby scenario.
‘Mumsy is worried sick. Said you stormed out of the office and was really upset. She told me to make sure I found you. I was going to your flat but you’re here!’ Toby grabbed him by the shoulders and Finlay smiled at his big blue eyes. ‘Which means you’re coming out with me tonight.’
‘I’m not in the mood.’
‘You need some support and cheering up. Let’s go for a drink for Gillian’s birthday then hit some bars.’
‘Seriously, that’s not a good idea.’
An hour later they were in a bar on Chiswick High Road, knocking back sparkling wine and beer. A tab had been arranged and they cordoned off an area. Finlay was sitting next to Toby and on his other side was Della. He needed some light relief and then as he turned to hear what Samina was saying, Sylvie walked in.
He immediately thought she looked gorgeous then glanced into his flute glass wondering how much he’d drunk. Finlay’s drink was instantly topped up.
‘And what are you doing this weekend?’ Della asked as Finlay decided not to look at Sylvie.
‘Sly! Sly, come and sit here!’ Toby shouted as she smiled, went to the bar, spoke to the man serving them then walked over. ‘Sit in between me and Finlay!’
He found his brother pushing him so he was leaning into Della to make a space. Sylvie grabbed a glass and sat down. Gillian and Pria were sitting opposite them, with Samina in a deep conversation with Elizbieta. Marianne was standing at the bar with the boys.
Then he noticed Stephen.
The man was glaring jealously over at Sylvie.
‘Cheers!’ Sylvie said and clinked glasses with the others before turning to Finlay. It was the closest he’d been to her and she smiled brightly at him. ‘Night off for me! I’ll see how much I can drink of these.’
Finlay felt something squeeze his thigh and realised it was Della. Feeling squashed in he didn’t know what to do and Sylvie momentarily turned then quickly stood up.
‘What’s wrong?’ Toby asked. ‘Don’t you want to sit next to me?’
‘It’s not really fair on Finlay. I’ll go get a chair.’
Within moments she was sitting next to Gillian and opposite Toby, who was making her laugh, then Stephen came closer and sidled up beside her by perching on a stool. Finlay noticed she was ignoring him and that was making the man more anxious.
‘You find man and have sex,’ said Samina turning to Sylvie, whose smile dropped.
‘I’m up for it,’ grinned Stephen.
‘Can’t you just leave me alone for one evening?’ Sylvie sighed to Samina, knocking back her drink.
‘You not moan forever!’
‘You mean ‘mourn’,’ grimaced Stephen.
‘You dry up like old prune and not even deluxe model will be able to get up there!’ laughed Samina as Finlay noticed Sylvie try not to smile. ‘More like pneumonia drill!’
‘Pneumatic drill,’ Finlay corrected as Sylvie started to laugh.
‘See even he know how hard to get up old lady!’
‘He must have tried you then, innit?’ said Pria with a smirk. ‘Maybe Sylvie doesn’t want a man.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Maybe she wants a woman?’
‘No I don’t. Will you stop asking me if I’m a lesbian,’ shrugged Sylvie taking off her jacket and he realised she was wearing a low cut top and from the look of it, so did Stephen, Toby and Pria. Then he heard her mumble. ‘Please don’t focus on my breasts, the eyes are fine.’
All three glanced away as she sat up with her back straight and smiled.
She was a beauty.
Finlay wondered why he’d never seen it before as Della pushed herself against him.
‘Poor thing, they always pick on her and she takes it on the chin,’ whispered Della. ‘I think Stephen hopes she’ll get drunk and fall into his arms but she’s prone to fall into your little brother’s.’
‘He fancies her too.’
‘It’s just fantasy with Toby. He knows he can’t have her so he wants her even more.’
Her lips were touching his ear lobe and he didn’t know what to do.
Finlay wasn’t averse to the feeling but it was too open for his liking.
‘You got tetanus shot Finlay?’ asked Samina as a few bowls of French fries arrived and she rammed some into her mouth. ‘You order this Sylvie?’
‘I ordered nibbles because I know what you lot are like and will be pissed by eight.’
‘Yes, I’ve got shots Samina. Why?’ Finlay replied.
‘Just ignore her,’ sighed Sylvie, eating some fries and smiling at him before turning to Samina. ‘Leave him alone, alright?’
‘Not alright,’ the woman replied and moved closer. ‘Why you like him today? You put anal hole numb spray in his mug the first day you see him!’
The whole table stopped talking and there was a heavy silence as Finlay realised what she’d done and watched as Sylvie’s mouth dropped open.
‘Tell him! We know she do it to people who make her mad,’ Samina said as Finlay watched Toby look at him guiltily. ‘She even do to me too three times!’
Sylvie started to laugh which was funny as the others sat there watching him, waiting for a reaction but her giggling was infectious and he laughed out loudly too.
‘Sorry,’ Sylvie said for the hundredth time as they walked towards the ‘Roebuck’ down the High Road.
Finlay was smiling and shrugged it off as she looked over her shoulder and saw Marianne, Della, Pria, Dan, Toby and Stephen follow behind. She knew he was a bit pissed as Toby kept handing him shots.
‘And you do this to people, spike their drinks?’ he smiled and shook his head. ‘I should be relieved I’ve been let off.’
‘I won’t do it again,’ she said knowing she kept the can in a safe place and was tempted most days since she’d met him.
‘Liar!’
She laughed.
‘Here we are!’ Sylvie said getting to the pub which was heaving on a Friday night. ‘We were better off staying at the bar.’
‘Come on, we’ll find a space.’
They managed to secure a small table by the outside heater and huddled together as Toby got the drinks. Sylvie watched as Della totally threw herself at Finlay, who wasn’t objecting. A glass was shoved in her face.
‘There you go!’ said Stephen as he stood so close to her, he was practically inhaling her breath.
‘Thanks,’ she said and recognised the look he’d give her before launching into a speech.
Pria and Marianne were laughing with Dan and Toby. Pleadingly she looked over but was ignored.
‘Sly, I think it’s time you and I spoke,’ he began as her stomach sank into her shoes. ‘You know how I feel about you.’
Stephen shuffled closer and for a moment Sylvie thought she felt something hard against her hip, jumping slightly, only to realise it was his computer bag. She took a massive slug of her drink.
‘I think you’re a nice person, I really do but I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. I’m not ready for a relationship.’ She really wanted to add ‘with you’ but refrained. ‘And it’s only been three years since my husband passed away. I need time to grieve.’
‘How long would you say?’ he asked and she realised he was deadly
serious.
‘They say half the years you know the person and that’s how long it takes.’
‘Which is what?’
‘Seven and a half years,’ she replied, then smiled for a moment seeing his eyes dart from side to side in shock. ‘That’s a long time.’ Biting her lip she tried not to smile then noticed Finlay was listening as he shook his head and discreetly glanced at her. ‘And it wouldn’t be fair.’
‘What if I met someone and married them?’ Stephen now looked at her defiantly. ‘You’d have lost your chance.’
‘I’d have to live with that but I’d be happy for you,’ she replied solemnly. ‘I need to go to the ladies, excuse me.’
Quickly she moved through the packed area and towards the toilets before joining a long queue. Still with her drink in hand, she realised it was nearly ten and knew she would have to bail out soon. Taking a pee, washing her hands and finishing the remainder of her drink then realising it was rude not to say goodbye, she discreetly left the pub from the other side knowing she’d explain it to them on Monday. Her friends would understand as it’s what she usually did when Stephen came out for drinks.
‘Hello there,’ she heard and realised Finlay was standing outside, his hands in his reefer jacket, collar turned up. ‘Trying to escape?’
‘You know what? I don’t go out much with these guys. When I do, I want some fun not a bloody inquisition!’ she laughed out and shook her head, feeling the alcohol warm her blood. ‘And that’s what he does. You know the only time I really make an effort to see this lot?’ He shook his head from side to side. ‘When he’s on holiday!’ She let out a sigh. ‘I’m going to go. Give me at least fifteen minutes before you tell them or he’ll follow.’
‘Do you fancy another drink away from this?’ he asked and she watched him smile. ‘After the day I’ve had, I’m too sober.’
Sylvie could see he was staring out at nothing and knew what had happened with his mother that morning. Toby came running in to see her when he found out. Knowing the man was in dire need of company, but not the Della kind, she grabbed his arm and quickly dragged him down the road turning at Turnham Green before taking him to a quiet pub she knew, not far from where she lived.
When she put him on the sofa, Sylvie got him a pint and herself a large glass of rose, before she sat next to him. Finlay was sitting up straight as she examined his profile.
‘I know you want to turf my sorry arse out onto the streets, when you decide to close down the company, so why don’t we do personal?’ Sylvie grinned as he turned to look at her and raised his eyebrows before sipping his drink. ‘I know you don’t give a shit about me so I’m happy to chat away.’
‘Chat on,’ he said wearily as she wanted to laugh at his bored expression.
‘You don’t have to listen, you can just get lost in your bad day.’
‘Rightio.’
‘I was completely shocked when my husband died. It wasn’t what I expected. I thought I’d die before him that was the plan. He’s younger… was younger. I had Daisy about four weeks after by fortieth birthday.’ Sylvie watched him frown then look at her before turning back. ‘I know, I look good but you can hold your compliment for a moment.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘When he died, I was in pieces, totally bereft. I had my mother telling me not to break down and think of my child, which is rich coming from her as she sobbed like a mental hyena, and I was shocked. Completely and utterly shocked as well as devastated. That goes without saying.’
‘It does.’
Finlay’s eyes stayed focussed ahead and she wondered if he was listening but decided she didn’t care.
‘The people I thought would support me did except for one person who made it perfectly clear they hated my guts and wanted me to suffer. And they tried.’ Sylvie took a large gulp of her drink remembering her mother in law. ‘It hurt, it really did, as I wanted their comfort more than anyone else’s and they just wanted to offload their pain onto me, which they managed to do.’
‘And your point it what?’
‘My point is, like someone you love dying, going through a bad time in a relationship tends to give you a similar feeling. Again, I know this as I had a shitty relationship when I was in my twenties and it took me a good few years to get over it, in time to meet the man who said he’d love me until he died. The problem is he did.’ Sylvie thought hard for a moment if she was really annoyed with Roo then decided it wasn’t his fault as she knew he didn’t want to leave her or Daisy. It was then she noticed Finlay was staring at her. ‘And, in my roundabout way, I’m telling you I know you’re having problems with your wife.’
‘Really?’ he said and she could see he looked like he had the arse.
‘Thing is Finlay,’ she said leaning closer. ‘I wish I were in your shoes, to be honest.’
‘I don’t think you do.’
‘I do,’ Sylvie replied as she looked into his eyes, her heart pounding fast. ‘I’d really much prefer it if he had cheated on me then at least he would have been alive and I could have attempted to kill him. So you are very lucky, from the way I see it, because she’s still there for you.’ She sat back as he stared at her for a moment then turned his head. ‘Seriously, feel free to vent if you want, I don’t mind.’ Then she heard him mumble something. ‘What did you say?’
‘Talk on. I’m realising your life is shittier than mine so that gives me some hope. Now I know you’re practically a pensioner I realise I’m in safe hands.’
She started to laugh at the rude man and wondered if he was being funny or was just a fucker. Then she noticed he was trying not to smile.
‘That answers my question,’ she said to herself and took another sip of her drink.
‘Explain the hotel key cards,’ Finlay asked frowning at her. ‘And you say you’re not sleeping with Piers.’
‘To the best of my knowledge,’ she replied and looked into his green feline shaped eyes. ‘You look a bit like my cat. Well, she’s dead now but you have that look.’
‘You don’t want to tell me?’ he smirked.
‘We rent out that room because, well, you know Piers likes to smoke and we’re not talking cigarettes. Sometimes he was so tired he’d fall asleep at his desk. I got talking to one of the people at the hotel and found out you could actually hire a room, long term, so we got a good deal. Piers goes there to sleep, we have meetings when we don’t want people to pry and I use the room.’
‘What for?’ She noticed he moved closer as his eyes narrowed. ‘Illicit sex with strangers?’
‘Jesus, I’ve not had sex since four days before my husband died so as I know you’re good at maths, work it out yourself,’ she laughed realising only Nalini was the other person she’d told that to. ‘And no, I’m not gagging for it.’
‘You work at a place that sells vibrators and all other sorts of contraptions. I’m sure if you were in need, there’s something for your there.’
‘Believe it or not,’ she said realising her piece of information seemed to amuse him. ‘I prefer person not plastic.’
‘Then why do you use the room.’
‘To cry,’ she honestly replied and heard him mumble something. ‘Pardon?’
‘Are you really forty eight?’
Finlay watched her shake her head in dismay before pulling her legs to her chest and grimacing at him.
‘I tell you something deeply personal and that’s all you can ask?’ she sighed as he tried not to smile, knowing he didn’t honestly know what to say. ‘Seriously?’
‘What’s wrong about asking? Are you menopausal?’
Finlay was going to laugh at his own question getting a familiar filthy stare which now looked quite cute.
‘I’m actually twelve,’ she said as Finlay realised she was taking the piss.
‘So you’re not forty eight?’
‘What’s the big deal?’
‘You just don’t look it.’
‘How should I look?’
‘Haggard
?’ he replied honestly and examined her face closely. There wasn’t a trace of a line or wrinkle. ‘Must be because you’re dark?’
‘Must be because I look after my skin and use a high sun factor, plus plenty of microdermabrasion and mojitos.’ Sylvie laughed as he smiled at her. ‘But I am twelve.’
‘I think the people who work for my stepfather are mad,’ Finlay laughed and took a sip of his beer. ‘And funny. I can see why Toby likes it there. The place sort of cheers you up.’ He turned to her again. ‘Twelve?’
‘There are many oddities and imperfections about me. One of them is I was born on 29th February. This year I celebrated my twelfth birthday. Just think, in four years I’ll be a teenager.’ Again Sylvie laughed and he sunk into his seat realising he really liked the sound of it.
Of her.
Finlay again looked at Sylvie, all curled up at the end of the sofa and smiled. It felt cosy and relaxed to be sat there. He finished his pint.
‘I’ll get you another one,’ she said cheerfully.
Sylvie jumped to her feet and put her hand out to take his glass.
Looking at her small brown hand, it seemed childlike. He wanted to grab it and hold it in his palm to see how small it was. He noticed the hand was now beckoning him to hand his empty over, as he did so.
‘I’d prefer a scotch instead,’ he replied as she nodded and walked to the bar.
He felt pissed and realised he wanted to get more drunk. Taking out his phone, he checked for messages and saw there was several, including a few missed calls from his mother and wife. A large glass of scotch appeared on the table as Sylvie then threw a small glass of rose into her larger glass.
‘Are you trying to get me pissed?’ he asked looking at the glass and leaning forward to take a sip. ‘Single malt?’
‘Apparently it’s wrong to have blended, so the hubby used to say. And I think you want to get drunk so I’m just being a good friend.’
‘Friend?’ Finlay laughed. ‘I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies. And the relaxants spray?’
‘You asked me to make tea,’ Sylvie shrugged. ‘Like I was some office skivvy.’
‘And I’ve never asked you since.’
There was silence for a moment.
