Stuck On You

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by Portia MacIntosh


  ‘Wasn’t he seventeen the last time you saw him?’ Damian points out as he looks over at him. Brian is currently playing that fairground game where you hit something with a sledgehammer to see how strong you are.

  ’Oh, yeah.’ I laugh to myself. ‘I should go say hello to him, right?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, why not?’ he says. ‘You go catch up with Brian, I’ll grab our coffees.’

  ‘OK,’ I say, nervously excited.

  Bumping into an ex is completely different from bumping into an old friend. Sure, it’s easy to measure yourself against your old school friends, but with an ex… you were a team. You were two parts of one thing. And then there’s the obvious fact that, if your relationship didn’t work, and you’re still single and they’re not, well, was it you who was the problem?

  Brian and I broke up because we wanted different things. I wonder if he ever got his…

  There are so many ways I could approach this. I could call out his name, get in his eyeline and wave, heck, I could even pretend to bump into him. Somehow I just end up hopping in front of him and sort of popping up in front of his face.

  ‘Brian,’ I say brightly. Perhaps a little too bright. Blinding, I’d say.

  ‘Sadie Kirke, look at you,’ he says, pulling me in for a hug. ‘Wow, your hair is so long.’

  ‘Look at me? Look at you,’ I reply. ‘All tall and beardy.’

  The last time I saw Brian he was seventeen, skinny, and baby-faced. Now he’s much taller, with a trendy lumberjack beard, and wearing a long blatantly designer coat.

  Brian has a genuine smile on his face – a twinkle in his eye, even. He really does seem so pleased to see me. It’s great to see him too. It’s easy to forget that the people from your past continue to exist outside your bubble.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s taken us so long to cross paths again,’ I say.

  ‘I moved away,’ he tells me. ‘I pop back a couple of times a year but I live in Milton Keynes now.’

  ‘Oh, really? I moved away too,ʼ I tell him. ‘I live in London.’

  ‘I commute to London,’ he replies excitedly. ‘A couple of times a week.’

  ‘Really? What do you do?’

  ‘Have a drink with me tonight,’ he says, changing the subject. ‘I’ll tell you everything.’

  I’m a little taken aback by his offer. I wasn’t expecting to see him – never mind him asking me for a drink.

  ‘I… erm… it’s Christmas Eve,ʼ I say.

  ‘Oh, so you’ll be at the cinema, then? Do you still do that?’

  ‘We do indeed,ʼ I say. ‘You know my mum.’

  ‘OK, well, what about before? The Ghost is minutes from the cinema. I’ll have you there on time,’ he assures me. ‘I wouldn’t get on the wrong side of Susie – not at Christmas.’

  ‘I’d have to turn up in my pyjamas,’ I point out.

  ‘Every man’s dream,’ he says with a smile. ‘Five-ish?’

  I feel my cheeks warm up.

  ‘OK, sure,’ I reply with a big smile. ‘Sounds great.’

  Everything around us sort of fades out of focus. Even the sound of the excitable crowds and the Christmas music tapers off. It’s just me and Brian suspended in the moment.

  ‘Here’s your latte,’ Damian interrupts. ‘They were out of gingerbread, unsurprisingly, so I got you caramel. I didn’t think you’d fancy cinnamon.’

  ‘Perfect, thank you,’ I say as I take it from him eagerly.

  I look back up at Brian, who looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights. He glances back and forth between me and Damian.

  ‘Hello,’ Damian greets him warmly.

  ‘Erm… hi,’ Brian replies.

  ‘Brian, this is Damian, my boss/friend,’ I tell him. Because that sounds completely normal. ‘Damian, this is Brian.’

  ‘Good to meet you, buddy,’ Damian says. ‘Are you the sailor she was telling me about?’

  Sailor? Oh, God, he’s making a joke about the fact I told him Brian and I used to meet up on the old boat. I shoot him daggers.

  ‘Erm, no, that’s someone else,’ Brian says, still a little awkwardly, before turning to me. ‘OK, Sadie, well, I’ll see you at five.’

  ‘See you then,’ I say.

  Damian sips his coffee as he waves off Brian with a smile.

  ‘You’re seeing him later?’ he says. ‘But we’re all going to the cinema to watch It’s a Wonderful Life in our pyjamas – it’s Christmas Eve.’

  He sounds so disappointed, which is a big surprise.

  ‘OK, Susie Kirke, calm down,’ I tease, because that is exactly the kind of thing my mum would say. ‘I’m meeting him at five p.m. for a catch-up. I’ll be at the cinema by seven. I’ll go in my pyjamas so I’m all ready for the cinema.’

  ‘You’re going for a drink with him in your pyjamas?’

  ‘OK, now you sound more like my dad,’ I say with a laugh. ‘There’s always loads of people walking around in their pyjamas just before the cinema opens. It’s totally normal here. I’ll wear a coat – I won’t get cold… promise.’

  Damian sips his coffee again.

  ‘OK,’ he says, immediately walking it all back. ‘I suppose that will give me a chance to flirt with your gran while you’re not around. I think I might be her favourite.’

  ‘I think you might be too,’ I say. ‘But you do have the tactical advantage of being able to flirt with her. Has she told you that you remind her of a young Des O’Connor yet?’

  ‘Only twice, but I do have a decent year-round tan and a winning smile,’ he says. ‘Come on, let’s get in that maze. You need to make it out in time for your date with big Brian. I think I’m starting to figure out what your type is.’

  ‘Whoa, hold up,’ I say, stopping in my tracks. I laugh for a moment at the sheer absurdity of the conversation. ‘There’s so much to unpack there I feel like I'm moving house. I’ll start with the fact that you can’t possibly have figured out my type by briefly bumping into my ex from over fifteen years ago – and, like you said, he was a kid the last time I saw him. He certainly wasn’t a “big Brian”. I’m assuming you’re also referring to Hunter, but that wasn’t really anything…’

  ‘It might have been, if I hadn’t disturbed you,’ he reasons.

  ‘So, for that reason, I only sleep with big guys? But it’s fine that you only sleep with models?’

  ‘OK, now you need to hold up.’ He laughs. ‘No one said anything about sleeping with anyone. Your dirty mind! You know my sex life has ground to a halt because you’re the patron saint of all my failed dates.’

  ‘Well, whatever,’ I say, a little embarrassed. I know that I shouldn’t even be thinking about my boss’s sex life, but it has occurred to me on multiple occasions, while he does go on a lot of dates, I never really notice women existing in his life outside them, and there are only signs of two women in his apartment – me and his cleaner. And I don’t know why he feels as if he has to justify himself to me. ‘The fact that you’re even commenting on my type…! Also, I am not going on a date with him. Just a catch-up. OK?’

  Damian just laughs. He’s so gorgeous when he smiles, which makes it all the more annoying when he’s laughing at me. I check myself, for checking him out.

  ‘Whoa, OK,’ he says. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it. Come on, let’s get lost.’

  Back when I first started working for Damian, when I had an entirely physical crush on him – something that I had hoped I’d never have to think about again, that I am so embarrassed by now – there were a handful of things that I thought made him attractive. His smile and his laugh made me go weak at the knees. His perfectly groomed hair and beard were like something I’d only ever seen on actors and models. And then there were his eyes… his big, brown puppy-dog eyes. Looking into them was a delightful mystery because, as big as they were, they weren’t letting anyone peer inside. Damian’s eyes are still very much a piece of one-way glass. He sees you but you don’t see him – not really.

  Thinking about it
, am I embarrassed that I used to have a crush on him? Pretty much every woman who meets him fancies him; I guess it would be weird if I hadn’t noticed it, acknowledged it, and then got over it.

  And while I’m thinking about things, perhaps Damian isn’t the closed book he used to be. He’s told me about his family, about his sex life – those are deeply personal things.

  Realistically, he’s probably only worried about me going out with Brian because he thinks I’ll be bailing on the cinema tonight, leaving him alone with my family, in a public place, in his pyjamas. That’s weird, right? That would explain why he’s acting so out of character.

  At least, for once, the Christmas tree maze isn’t the most complicated part of my day.

  27

  ‘I still can’t get over the fact you’re here dressed as an elf.’ Brian laughs.

  Let’s just say the pyjama situation has escalated.

  Our annual Christmas-card-posting competition isn’t something I give all that much thought to. Ordinarily I am teamed up with my dad, we do a rushed job, chill in the pub for a bit, and land home in that second place sweet spot that means we don’t have to set the table and we don’t have to wear the Christmas ties or the mistletoe headbands or whatever ugly Christmas accessories my mum decides the losers should wear. I got off lightly the last time we came in last – all I had to do was wear a flashing Christmas badge over my pyjamas, which I obviously had to switch off inside the cinema, so it was as if it were never there. But this year Damian and I came last… and this year the festive accessory is much worse.

  ‘I hadn’t anticipated the outfit being so embarrassing,’ I tell him.

  ‘I don’t mind it,’ he says. ‘It’s nice to see your mum still taking thing so seriously. And you. The ears are quite the commitment.’

  Yep, that’s what the losers have to wear this year. To match our elf pyjamas we have pointy elf ears.

  ‘Well, there was a glue involved, so I had to have them stuck on at home,’ I say. ‘Damian too, so at least I won’t be alone.’

  ‘You said Damian is your boss?’ Brian says. ‘It’s a bit unusual to spend Christmas with your boss, isn’t it?’

  For a while now we’ve just been making polite chit-chat, catching up, talking about how our families are doing, work – all the usual stuff. Now we’re finally getting into it.

  ‘We’re friends too,’ I tell him. ‘Maybe it’s weird but… I guess circumstances are weird this year.’

  ‘Are you two a thing?’ he asks, but immediately backtracks. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be asking you questions like that.’

  ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I insist. ‘We get that a lot but, no, we’re not a couple. He just needed a friendly festive family to spend Christmas with.’

  ‘You guys are certainly that,’ he says. ‘I loved my Christmases with your family. Never managed to find a girlfriend whose family did it quite like yours.’

  ‘Look at my ears,’ I tell him, pointing at them both for emphasis. ‘You got off lightly.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he says. ‘I’m single at the moment so… I’m going to have to rely on my lot to keep me entertained this year. Are you seeing anyone?’

  ‘Only my boss,’ I joke. Wait, that didn’t come out right. ‘I mean, he’s the only person I see. I am single.’

  Just when I think I can’t sound any less cool I always find a way to impress myself.

  ‘Maybe we could go out for drinks in London when I’m there for work,’ he suggests. ‘It sounds like your social life is as non-existent as mine is.’

  ‘Yep, my social life has been on the back burner for a while now,’ I say, stalling for a few seconds. I’m a little taken aback he’s inviting me for another drink, while we’re still having this one.

  ‘Well… what are your plans for New Year’s Eve?’ he asks. ‘Will you be back in London?’

  ‘Nah, I’ll still be here,’ I reply.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ he says. ‘I’ve been invited to a big, swanky party in the city. I have a plus one on my invitation, you could’ve joined me.’

  ‘Aw, thank you,’ I say. That’s very sweet of him but we’ve only just reconnected – I’m not about to spend New Year’s Eve with him. ‘If I hadn’t already said I’d spend it here… But I’m changing my job soon and I’m hoping that will give me more free time.’

  ‘You’re leaving Damian?’ he says. He sounds surprised.

  ‘Well, I'm not leaving him, I'm leaving the company,’ I clarify. ‘But yes.’

  ‘He looked pretty chipper for someone who’s employee/friend – the kind he’s close enough with to spend Christmas together – is leaving him,’ he says.

  ‘That might be because I haven’t told him yet,’ I say sheepishly. ‘I’m going to soon just… after Christmas.’

  Brian smiles.

  ‘You’re such a sweetheart,’ he tells me. ‘Most people don’t think twice about when they give their notice.’

  I shrug.

  We’re sitting in The Hopeful Ghost – where thankfully there are other people in their pyjamas, grabbing food and drinks before they head to the cinema – in the exact same seats Damian and I sat in the other night. I keep looking up at the clock, reminding myself that it’s an hour slow, so that I’m not late for the movie. Hopefully I’ll notice when all the other pyjama-clad people sleepwalk out of here and follow their lead.

  ‘Do you believe in the universe?’ Brian asks.

  ‘Do I believe in the universe?’ I repeat back to him, certain I must be misunderstanding him. ‘The universe as in the thing we exist in?’

  Brian laughs.

  ‘No, not like that,’ he says. ‘The universe doing things. Course correcting. Bringing people together.’

  ‘Oh, erm… I’ve never really thought about it,’ I tell him. ‘I met Zac Efron at a work thing earlier in the year and he didn’t ask me to marry him. And then I met a man who maybe murders women and he didn’t kill me. Maybe I’m on the right track?’

  Brian just stares at me for a moment. I'm not sure my sense of humour is landing with him.

  ‘I’m thinking, we just bump into each other after all this time, we’re both in London, both single…’ he muses. ‘Do you ever wonder if things are meant to be?’

  ‘You never know, do you?’ I say tactfully. I’m not sure I subscribe to that.

  I suppose you can put that kind of spin on anything if you want to, can’t you? We bumped into each other – in our home town. We’re both in London – but only sometimes, and also London is massive. We’re both single, but I really don’t think I can pin my lack of a love life on the universe. That’s a stretch.

  I look up at the clock again.

  The weirdest thing about sitting in the same place as I sat with Damian is that I keep thinking about him. About being here with him. About snoozing on the boat together until the tide went out before creeping back into my parents’ house like a couple of naughty teenagers. It’s always going to be awkward, hanging out with an ex, but I can’t stop thinking about how much more fun I would be having right now if I were sitting here with Damian instead of Brian. And I've just realised that the entire time I have been here, I haven’t heard from Damian once, and he usually always interrupts me when I’m with other men; it’s as if he has a sixth sense for it.

  Brian is a great guy, with some very interesting ideas about the universe and, sure, he is tall now but… I’m scared to even say it, but I think I'm missing Damian. This has to be some sort of Stockholm syndrome kind of deal – I’ve spent so much time with him recently no wonder it feels strange being without him.

  I look up at the clock again.

  If I’m just used to being around Damian all the time, then why am I so excited to see him? To go to the cinema together, in our pyjamas, with our ridiculous elf ears glued on – and they are really glued on there. I’m terrified they’re not going to come off.

  I’m missing him. I really am. And if I'm missing him now, how much am I going to miss him when I’m
not seeing him every day?

  28

  It’s a different kind of Christmas this year, but a great one so far.

  After my super-deep, super-weird catch-up with Brian I practically ran out of the pub and across the road to the cinema. The Kirke clan, plus Damian, were waiting outside for me. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Damian, in his elf outfit, the ears still glued to his head in solidarity with mine. I still find it hard to believe he’s here, doing all this.

  It’s a Wonderful Life was magical, as always, and when Damian confessed that he’d never seen it I was even more excited. There’s a real joy to be had in watching a movie that you love with someone who hasn’t seen it before – you get to enjoy it again through their eyes and give them the gift of something great.

  Then there’s the fact that the Seafront Cinema is a truly magical place to experience a movie for the first time – especially an older one.

  The Seafront Cinema is actually one of only a few remaining gas-lit cinemas in the UK. It’s proper old school, with an external box office that looks out over the sea, towards the island. Over the years it has needed a lot of love. There have been many fundraisers and different owners, all making the necessary improvements. It’s been modernised countless times over the years, but not so you would notice. With things like new seats being installed, and a concessions stand being built indoors, it is undetectable (unless you know) when you see everything alongside the old-school screen, the fuzzy red chairs and the retro lamps on the walls. Coming here to watch an old movie really does feel like hopping into a time machine. Last night we went back to 1946 and Damian absolutely loved it. It was already filling up when we got there, so Damian and I said we’d let the others have the seats nearest the front and – would you believe it? – we ended up sitting on the back row together. Still, we had a laugh about it, and it was nice to sit and watch the film together. I swear, at one point, I thought he was going to take hold of my hand, but I think he was just caught up in the magic of the scene where George offers Mary the moon. Well, it’s hard not to get swept away by that, right? It’s no wonder I started imagining things.

 

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