by Lucy Wild
“Only I had a bet with Will that he couldn’t get you into bed in less than a fortnight and I wondered if he’d managed it.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Oh don’t do that. You don’t believe me, do you?”
He sounded amused and the tone of his voice infuriated me, even as a wave of shame washed over me. How did he know? Who the hell was he? Some reporter who’d got wind of it, had we not been careful enough? I should never have let him drive me to work this morning.
The man was still talking. “I’ve forwarded you an email. Have a look for yourself. I can wait.”
I put the phone down on its side, picking up the mouse with trembling fingers and loading the email on my laptop. It had been back with me for a couple of days, the thought of Will finding out about my romance stories feeling like a worry from hundreds of years ago. I didn’t want to look but also I had to.
I clicked and there it was. From the desk of Lionel Wellington. A forwarded email from him to Will with reply.
My heart sank as I read it. The man wasn’t lying. It was there in black and white. A bet to fuck a random person at work.
I should have known it was too good to be true. He wasn’t doing this because of how he felt about me, he was doing this to get a high five from his mates. I’d been used.
There was no denying the proof. Why else would he have randomly rung me, then flirted with me, then done those things to me? Out of the goodness of his heart? Because he really liked me? Get real.
I felt so angry with myself because I hadn’t seen any of it. I’d been too swept up in the excitement of a real man showing an interest in me that I never stopped to think that there might be an ulterior motive to what was happening.
A voice was talking to me from faraway. I looked down, realising it was coming from the phone.
I picked it up. It felt heavier than before. “Why?” I asked quietly into the receiver.
“You read it then?”
“Uh huh.”
“I just wanted you to know I thought it was a despicable thing to do.”
“You do?”
“Taking advantage of someone like that. I wanted you to know the truth about him.”
“Thanks,” I managed to mutter. “I appreciate it.”
“Listen, if you’re not doing anything at lunch time, maybe we could meet up and talk about it. I don’t want to just dump all this on you and then run off.”
“Right, fine, whatever.”
I wasn’t really listening or paying attention to my replies. I somehow ended up arranging to see him at Patty’s bar a couple of streets down at lunch. I set off early, unable to stay in the office any longer. I felt sure that Will might appear at any moment and if he did, I’d either kill him or burst into tears. I didn’t want to do either in the workplace so I left, leaving a note on my desk that just said, “Family emergency,” I.T code for hungover and getting some fresh air, maybe a doughnut or two.
I walked the streets for a while, trying to process what I’d just found out. How could he have done that to me? Used me like that?
Did he get extra points for anal? Was that why he’d done it? How many other women had fallen for him only to find out the truth?
That was why it hurt more than it should. I had fallen for him. I’d thought he’d fallen for me too. He’d told me as much. I cried then as I realised, looking like a freak, walking along the pavement whilst sobbing.
I needed a drink. I got to the bar where my confidant was going to meet me. By the time he got there, I was three vodkas in and working on a fourth. I still felt awful but at least I’d stopped crying. Fuck him, I told myself. I don’t need him.
It wasn’t true but it was the best I could do. If I didn’t need him, it wouldn’t have hurt to find out I was nothing more than a bet to him.
A man slid onto the seat next to mine, a wiry man in an expensive suit, his curly hair falling down over his eyes. Did he think that looked good? It made him look like he was about twelve and was wearing his Dad’s clothes.
“Jen Murphy,” he said, holding out a hand. “Lionel Wellington. I apologise that we aren’t meeting under better circumstances. I believe we have a mutual friend.”
“He’s a bastard,” I blurted out, ranting without taking breath for some time, ending with, “Fuck him,” shouted out loud.
“Indeed,” Lionel said when I’d finished. “I tried to stop him, I tried to tell him it wasn’t right to use women that way but he wouldn’t listen, just kept boasting how he was going to fuck you no matter how hideous you were.”
“He…he thinks I’m hideous?”
“Don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just saying what he told me.” He looked at me closely. I didn’t like the look.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just I can’t believe he thought you weren’t beautiful.”
“Don’t try and flatter me, I’m not in the mood.”
“Sorry, it’s just those eyes, they look amazing.”
I drained my glass and stood up, tripping over the edge of my coat as I retrieved it from the back of the chair. “I’m going home,” I said loudly.
“I better make sure you get there all right,” he replied, leaping to his feet and jogging over to me. “You look a little unsteady to me.”
If I’d been less angry with Will, I might have realised what Lionel was trying to do. But by the time I knew what his plan was, it was too late.
TWELVE - WILL
I GAVE IT AN HOUR, telling myself to keep busy, to not think about it too much.
I ran through some projections with the team but my mind wasn’t in it, I was still thinking about her, wondering irrationally if she knew already, if she could have found out the truth.
Of course not, I told myself, doing my best to focus on the chart on the screen in front of me.
The meeting was on the twenty-seventh and the paranoia in my brain was so bad I could have sworn I could hear her talking downstairs, screaming about what a bastard I was.
She was right of course. I was a bastard but she couldn’t be heard from up here. Could she?
After the meeting ended, I nonchalantly walked over to the lifts, telling myself I just wanted to check in, thank her for fixing my laptop, nothing suspicious in that.
The lift seemed to take forever, me vowing to sack whichever engineer installed it by the time it arrived.
I got down to the basement and had to resist running down the corridor. What would she think if she saw me panicking like that? She’d know something was up.
I turned the corner into her office but she wasn’t there. There was a hastily scrawled note on her desk, ‘Family Emergency.’
The sight of those words sent two parallel thoughts into my head at once.
Her family was on one side, the family she loved and who loved her, the ones she was so close to she would leave work in the middle of the day to go and assist, that being the kind of person she was and the kind of family she had.
On the other side was me and my family. My mother who I had last spoken to, when? Was it on my birthday? No, she’d left a message on my answerphone because I was in Hong Kong and I swore I’d call her back this time but I never did.
My father had died when I was young, but there was still my brother. He was engaged when I last spoke to him. The wedding was when? Last month. I cringed inwardly. I’d completely forgotten. No doubt Robert would have sent a card and gift on my behalf but it was a poor show to miss your own brother’s wedding. Not only to miss it but to be so wrapped up in your own life that you totally forgot.
She was good. I was bad. That was the truth encapsulated in that note. If someone in my family needed help, I’d be the last one they’d call. They’d know I’d promise the world but never show up, I was too always too busy.
Not any more, I vowed as I pocketed her note. Things were going to be different. I might have shown Jen how good sex could be but she had shown me so much more, shown me what life could be like
if you weren’t sprinting all the time to the finish but slowed down to look around every now and then.
She’d taken me for a walk around her neighbourhood the first night I went to collect her, showing me all the landmarks I’d never even noticed, telling me the history of the buildings, the places that meant so much to her.
I wanted that. I wanted that connection to things. In many ways, I was jealous of her. I was even jealous of the note. Family emergency. She had close family. I didn’t. All the money in the bank, all the fortune tied up in so many things, and I didn’t have one percent of what she had. She was so much richer than me.
I picked up her phone and rang Robert. “Put me through to H.R.”
“Of course, Sir,” he said, not even a hint of questioning in his voice. The line buzzed for a second, then a woman’s voice spoke. “Mr Bailey, how can I help?”
“Get me the numbers for Jen Murphy’s emergency contacts. I want every family member we’ve got on file.”
“Jen Murphy? Is she a client of ours?”
“She works in I.T,” I snapped. How could she not know that?
“Of course, Sir. Just give me one moment.”
I tapped my foot impatiently on the floor as I waited, muttering, “Come on,” under my breath.
“Here it is, sorry for the delay. She’s listed as Jennifer on file rather than Jen.”
“Yes, yes, just give me the numbers.”
“I can’t just give that out, Sir. Data Protection law won’t allow it.”
“Then why the hell did you keep me on the phone?”
“If you’d like to come down and fill in an access form, we might be able to do something as long as she’s consented of course.”
“I’m the fucking C.E.O, just tell me!”
“I’m awfully sorry, Sir, I can’t do that.”
I didn’t bother trying to wring the numbers out of her, the phone creaking as I clenched it tighter in my hand. Hanging up as she continued a grovelling apology, I called someone who would work just as fast and was more relaxed about the law.
“Mr Bailey,” he said, sounding no different to last time I spoke to him.
We’d been having real trouble with a mystery investor in one of our rivals, buying out every company we went for like he was fucking psychic. My man not only got me a name, he got me the mole that was leaking to him, all in a single afternoon. He was good then. This time he was better. He got back to me in two minutes with the numbers for Jen’s parents at home and their mobile numbers. He even got her sister’s number without me asking for it. I was impressed but impatient, not even bothering to thank him, the transfer I’d make later that day would be thanks enough. I tried the numbers in turn.
“Hello?” said a male voice after I rang the home number and paced up and down on the spot, muttering impatiently to myself.
“Hi, is Jen there at all?”
“No, I’m afraid Jen moved out a couple of years ago. Is that Martin? How’s your mother doing?”
“No, it’s Will, I work with Jen. Do you know where she is at all?”
“I imagine she’s at work. Do you want me to try and find the number for you?”
“No, don’t worry about it, sorry to have troubled you.”
I hung up and tried her mother’s mobile.
“Is Jen with you, Mrs Murphy?”
“Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m out shopping. You could try her mobile if you like.”
“I will do. Can I just ask if there’s any problems where you are?”
“Problems? What sort of problems?”
“Anyone taken ill, anything like that?”
“Not that I know of, love. Why, is Jen poorly?”
“No, don’t worry, she’s fine.”
I hung up, trying Jen’s mobile but getting no response.
It was surreal, I’d now spoken to her family and none of them knew where she was. I was further in the relationship than I’d planned for this stage but the one person that mattered had vanished off the face of the earth. There clearly wasn’t a family emergency. The note had been an excuse. But what did that mean?
I had to speak to her and the only place I could think of to try was her flat.
I left work a minute later, getting in the car and racing to her house as fast as I could. It took far too long to get through the traffic and when I arrived, I had to abandon the car in the middle of the road. I ran over to the door next to the Man Wah Takeaway, hammering on it as the sound of cars honking horns echoed behind me.
There was no response. Was she not at home either? I tried again, ignoring a guy in a van yelling at me to shift my car, traffic backing up behind him. I ignored him, rattling the door handle and finding it locked. I turned away and was just about to walk back to the car when I heard something. It was only faint but it had definitely come from inside the flat. It sounded like a scream.
THIRTEEN - JEN
LIONEL WAS THE PERFECT GENTLEMAN. He listened while I talked about Will, he nodded in all the right places, he sympathised with what had happened. “I’m afraid he’s always been like this,” he said when I finally fell quiet.
We’d been walking for about twenty minutes and I could feel a headache starting to build, pressure behind the eyes that was just starting to become painful.
“He has a tendency to see women as objects, you can’t blame him really. He’s always had money.”
“Will told me he was poor growing up.”
“Yeah,” Lionel said without skipping a beat, “that’s just one of the stories he uses, thinks it makes ‘the snatch’ sympathetic towards him.”
“That bastard.”
“I know.”
He put an arm around my shoulder and I thought nothing of it. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, it just proved how naive I’d been in believing Will.
We reached my place and I unlocked the door. Lionel stood looking at me. “I’m home,” I said, waiting for him to say goodbye.
He just stood there.
“I’m going in now.”
“Would you mind if I come up?” he asked, seeing the staircase behind me.
“Erm, I think I’d rather be alone.”
“No, of course. I just meant to use your bathroom.”
“Oh, right. I guess so. Come on up.”
He followed me, closing the outside door behind him. My housemates weren’t in, I could tell by the quiet. I stopped in the hallway at the top of the stairs. “Bathroom’s in there.”
“Great, thanks.”
I headed into the kitchen, switching on the kettle before sinking into the nearest chair, sighing loudly. I felt drained, as if I’d been running for hours on end, my limbs heavy. I didn’t even hear Lionel until he was almost on top of me. I looked up and he was standing inches away. “Ready to go?” I asked, trying to get to my feet.
He didn’t move. “Not quite,” he said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “I thought we could maybe get to know each other better.”
“What?”
“Come on, you didn’t invite me up here without good reason.”
“You wanted to use the bathroom.”
“Jen.” He frowned, like a teacher telling off a particularly stupid pupil. “Don’t be silly. Now do you want to do it in the bedroom or out here? I don’t mind which.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I managed to squirm past him, pointing down at the stairs. “I think you should go.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I get to see that pussy of yours.”
I was shocked to my core, unable to believe what he was saying. At the same time, a fear was bubbling up inside me. I was alone with him and he was much taller than me. “Get out.”
“All right,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. “How much will it take? How much did Will pay you? A thousand? Five thousand?”
“I don’t want your money,” I said as he waved his wallet at me. “Get out of my house.”
“Of course you want my money. Look at t
his shithole you live in, my dog’s kennel is bigger than this.”
“Get out!”
“Ten thousand just to strip for me.”
“No!”
“Twenty thousand.”
“I’m calling the police.”
I went for the phone and that was when he lunged at me, grabbing my hand, pushing me back against the wall, his hand sliding between my legs as I did my best to push him away. “Just kiss me,” he said, his breath hot on my face. “If you fucked him, you’ve got to fuck me, I’m so much better looking.”
“Fuck off!” I said. His hand pressed harder between my legs and I screamed, hoping someone outside might hear.
It worked. The door downstairs crashed open and there was the thud of footsteps coming racing up.
All of a sudden, a hand was on the back of Lionel’s head, dragging him off me by the hair. He let out a strangled scream as I looked who see who’d come in.
I gasped as I saw it was Will, a fury in his eyes I’d never seen before.
“Keep your fucking hands off her,” he roared, shoving Lionel away.
Will was on him again before he could right himself, slamming him into the wall. Lionel muttered, “Wait,” as a fist connected with his stomach. He crumpled in two, collapsing to the floor and gasping for air, wheezing heavily, his face turning purple.
Will spun around and ran over to me. “Are you all right?”
“Look out!” I shouted, seeing the movement behind him.
He turned just in time. Lionel had picked up the vase next to him and was about to bring it down on Will’s head.
Will ducked away, reaching out for Lionel whose expression changed to an ingratiating grin as he stopped dead, still ridiculously holding the vase above his head.
“All right,” he said, his voice weak as he lowered the vase back onto its stand. “We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”
“Get out,” Will said. “And if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”
Lionel shot down the stairs without another word. The door slammed shut a second later. I realised I’d been holding my breath for far too long, letting it out slowly as Will turned back to me.
I was torn. He looked as handsome as ever, even more so if that was even possible. But that didn’t change what he’d done.
