‘The only place I know with a spacey sounding name down by the station is Saturn,’ I tell him.
‘Yeah, I’m not talking about the god-awful nightclub where you and Joey go hunting for prey. Planet is a vegan restaurant.’
‘Ergh, does she make you go to vegan restaurants?’
‘She doesn’t make me go anywhere,’ he tells me. ‘I do it because I care about her.’
‘Give me a double cheeseburger and a big slab of chocolate any day,’ I tell him, raising my toast to my mouth. I’m not used to eating so early in the morning, and while Nutella on toast sounded like a good idea on paper, I’m not sure I can stomach it right now – I don’t think the fact I ate two and a half double chocolate muffins for my dinner last night is helping matters.
‘So why are you up early and eating breakfast?’ he asks me as he prepares his usual bowl of cereal.
‘What? I get up early sometimes,’ I protest.
‘Except you don’t,’ he interrupts.
‘And breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you’re always saying so, and you’re pretty smart.’
I think I’ve done well, dropping into the conversation both the fact that I listen and a compliment, but Nick just stares at me blankly.
‘Piss-taking, again. I’m going to eat this in my room.’
‘I wasn’t –’ I call after him, but he closes his bedroom door behind him.
Shit, I really was trying to be nice to him. What I’m forgetting is that we’ve spent the whole time we’ve known each other driving each other crazy, constantly at one another’s throats – it’s no wonder he finds it weird that I’m suddenly trying to be nice and flirty with him. I’ve spent so much time taking the piss out of him, why would he expect anything else?
If I want to get anywhere with Nick, I’m going to have to seriously up my game. It’s not enough to just suddenly start being sweet to him, I need to show him that I’m worthy of him…now how the hell am I going to do that?
Chapter 15
Joe Mills is not the kind of person you go to for relationship advice. How to look good while you’re at the gym? Yes. Where to hide in a girl’s flat when her boyfriend gets home early? Yes. How to dodge chlamydia through sheer willpower alone? OK, perhaps that one is debatable. But everyone knows he’s bad at relationships and as such, no one ever so much as brings up that they’ve dated a person more than once around him, lest such an alien level of commitment freak him out.
On the other hand, Paul Wood is exactly the kind of guy you’d go to if you needed relationship advice, because my brother has been with his wife since he was at school. Still, as successful as his marriage is on paper, I wouldn’t exactly say he was happy, but he’s sustaining something so I guess that’s an achievement.
I’m not just trying to “bang” Nick, but I’m not exactly trying to marry him and have his babies, so neither Millsy nor Woody alone is going to have the answers I need, but I figure that if I get them together at the same time, between them we’ll be able to come up with a plan of action that falls somewhere between banging and babies. That’s why we’re all gathered at my parents’ house, to try and figure out how I can make Nick fall for me. Well, that and because my brother is bored out of his mind here on his own. Since he went out with Millsy and me for the night, he’s been texting me way more than usual, telling me what a good time he had. Maybe he’s just bored because his wife is away, or maybe he really doesn’t have any fun any more, but either way, it’s kind of nice to be closer.
I’m the last to arrive and as I enter the living room, I find Millsy and Woody reading one of my mum’s magazines together, swigging beer from the bottle – possibly to try and offset the magazine aimed at middle-aged women that they’re engrossed in.
‘Ladies,’ I say, greeting them.
‘Hey,’ my brother replies, but Millsy clearly has other things on his mind.
‘I’ve left my script in the kitchen, I’ll just go grab it,’ he says excitedly. ‘Help Woody finish this quiz.’
Millsy tosses me the magazine and dashes off into the kitchen. I pick up the biro he left on the coffee table and find the page in the magazine that’s all muddled up from being flung across the room.
‘“Are you in a slump?”’ I read the title out loud. I look at my brother in disbelief. ‘Really? You’re doing quizzes in ladies’ magazines?’
‘Well, I may as well finish it now,’ he says awkwardly. ‘It’s just a bit of fun. You answer questions about yourself and it tells you how to analyse your answers. It’s quite clever really.’
‘OK, sure,’ I reply. ‘Are you currently going through the menopause?’ I ask him before glancing up from the page, staring at him expectantly.
My brother pauses before he answers.
‘Do…does it really say that?’
I roll up the magazine and hit him over the head with it.
‘Of course it doesn’t,’ I laugh. ‘I’m just wondering why you’re giving a magazine like this any credit. You’re a grown-ass man.’
‘Just ask me the next question,’ he insists.
‘OK, fine.’ I find the next empty box and ask the question before it.
‘What’s your greatest achievement of the past twelve months?’ I ask.
My brother thinks for a moment.
‘I had a baby,’ he answers.
‘Right.’ I grab the pen and say what I write in the box out loud as I jot it down: ‘Nothing.’
Woody shakes his head and laughs.
‘Fine, forget it.’
‘Right, I have my script and I have a copy for you so you can help me rehearse,’ Millsy interrupts us, tossing a script at me.
‘Stop throwing paper at me,’ I snap. ‘And, Macbeth is too heavy when I’m this tired.’
Millsy pulls a face.
‘Come on, when we ruled Outwood High School, we blew everyone away with our parts in the Scottish play. What did Mrs Bloom say about your Lady Macbeth?’
‘She remarked on my dissimulation and my cruelty,’ I recollect.
‘But what about the character you played?’ my brother teases.
‘Ahh, fuck you,’ I reply with a sarcastic laugh.
‘You know the Scottish play like the back of your hand, Rubes,’ Millsy reminds me.
‘Loser,’ my brother teases and, my God, it’s a sad day when my brother finds me more tragic than I do him.
‘Hey, credit where it’s due,’ I start, quick to Shakespeare’s defence. ‘It is a work of art.’
My brother shrugs.
‘I don’t really know what it’s about.’
‘Really?’ I squeak.
My brother shrugs again.
‘So Macbeth is a Scottish nobleman. He and his friend Banquo meet these three witches who make three predictions: that Macbeth will become Thane of Cawdor, that Macbeth will become King of Scotland, and that Banquo’s descendants will become kings. Banquo thinks it’s daft, but when Macbeth does become Thane of Cawdor, that’s it, he thinks it’s all coming true. Then he tells his wife, who believes it too, and sets about helping him become king by whatever means necessary.’
‘You see, bitches be cray cray,’ Millsy insists.
‘Ah, that famous Shakespearean quote,’ my brother laughs.
‘It’s true though,’ Millsy starts. ‘His wife is the one who pushes him into doing bad things to make the predictions come true. And it’s like, if he hadn’t heard the predictions, would he even have done anything to try and make them come true?’
My brother nods thoughtfully, but inspiration hits me like a ton of bricks, causing me to jump to my feet.
‘Millsy, that’s it,’ I squeak.
‘That’s what?’ he asks.
‘Think about it,’ I start. ‘Until I had those dreams about Nick, there’s no way I ever would’ve done anything to try and get him. But those dreams I had are my predictions. Seeing those dreams has made me realise what is going to happen, now I know that, I just need to do whatever it tak
es to make it so,’ I say proudly.
Millsy and Woody just stare at me for a moment.
‘Shall I take this one or do you want to?’ Woody asks Millsy.
‘Be my guest,’ he replies.
Woody takes a deep breath before he speaks.
‘Probably don’t take inspiration regarding your love life from a Shakespearean tragedy,’ he tells me, as though it were obvious.
‘Why not?’ I ask, furrowing my brow.
‘Well, how does Macbeth end?’ he asks.
‘OK, not ideally,’ I admit. ‘But I’m not shooting a remake, I’m just taking a little inspiration.’
‘It’s not like she’s going to go all Romeo and Juliet,’ Millsy laughs. ‘That’d be worse.’
‘Thank you,’ I tell him, although I suspect he was just trying to be funny.
‘Or you could just be honest with Nick and tell him how you feel,’ my brother reminds me. Ah, the sensible option, but the one that puts me at the greatest risk of getting hurt.
‘So we get to have some fun,’ Millsy says excitedly. ‘OK, I’m temporarily suspending play on Ruby Would/Ruby Wouldn’t in favour of a new game: Truth or Date.’
‘Wait, you’re on her side?’ Woody asks Millsy in amazement. ‘It just surprises me, not only because that’s really fucking stupid, but also because you hate Nick.’
‘Exactly,’ Millsy laughs. ‘So it’ll be doubly funny to watch her mess with him.’
‘I’m not messing with him,’ I insist. ‘I just need to do what I need to do to win him over. So any ideas are appreciated.’
‘Well, I have loads,’ Millsy says, rubbing his hands together. ‘So, Truth or Date, you’ve always got two choices: you can come clean with him, tell him the truth about your feelings – stupid idea in my opinion – or you can date, keeping going out with other dudes, make him jealous…that always works.’
‘I just want to go on record and say this is a stupid idea,’ my brother states.
As I glance between my brother’s concerned gaze and Millsy’s excited grin, I realise just how relatable Macbeth is right now and, no, that’s probably not a healthy thought.
‘It’s amazing,’ I chuckle. ‘Woody, you’re my Banquo – you’re just jealous about my awesome prediction. Millsy, you’re my Lady Macbeth; I know you’ll help me get shit done. Date it is.’
‘You know it, my king,’ he replies, putting on a girly voice.
I walk into the kitchen to grab a drink, turning on the light because, even though it’s early evening, it’s October and the sun seems to be setting earlier and earlier.
‘How does Macbeth end?’ my brother asks me, causing me to jump because I didn’t realise he’d followed me.
‘Shit, you scared me,’ I shriek. I think for a second because, despite my brother not knowing the play well, I think we all know it doesn’t end amazingly. ‘Look, I’m not going to do anything stupid or extreme. I was just joking about the comparison.’
‘Just be careful,’ he warns me. ‘Because despite what you might think, I lo –’
My brother’s voice trails off.
‘Wait, were you going to tell me you loved me?’ I say, feigning shock.
‘Shut up,’ he snaps.
‘Oh, charming. I –’
‘Seriously, shut up,’ he repeats, flicking the kitchen light out. ‘Millsy, get in here,’ he says in what I can only describe as a loud whisper.
Millsy hurries into the dark room.
‘What?’ he asks.
‘Out the window,’ Woody whispers.
‘Awesome, what’s Barbie doing now?’ Millsy asks, dashing for the side window.
‘No, the back window,’ Woody tells him.
As we all approach the window behind the sink and gaze out across our back garden and into the one behind us, we spot Weird Ian, our creepy neighbour, digging a hole under one of his trees.
‘What is he doing?’ I ask. It’s too late, dark and cold for gardening. Not only that but his garden has always been a mess, it’s driven my dad crazy for as long as I can remember. Then I realise. ‘He…he’s burying something.’
‘It looks big,’ my brother observes.
Maybe it’s just coincidence, or maybe he can feel our eyes on him, but Weird Ian jolts his head upright suddenly, staring across at our house. We all duck down quickly.
‘OK, what the fuck is going on with this guy?’ I ask. ‘He’s always been weird, but this is really weird.’
‘When I came in to get the beer earlier, I glanced across there. I saw him in his dining room with a woman, but I didn’t think anything of it. Actually, I did think something of it, I thought “what the fuck could any woman see in Weird Ian” but that was about it.’
We all slowly climb to our feet, peeping back outside. From where we are, we can see the back of Ian’s detached house, with a clear view of the open space at each side of the property. Once Ian is back indoors we don’t see anything until we notice him going out, the silhouette of a man walking down the street visible toward the left side of his house.
‘He’s gone out,’ Millsy observes. ‘Let’s go look in his garden.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ I laugh. ‘I mean, OK, it’s creepy, but it’s probably nothing. And we’ll get in trouble, just like when we were kids.’
‘But we just saw him go out – see, we’re smarter than when we were kids,’ he reasons.
‘No,’ I tell him firmly. ‘Now let’s get on with rehearsing.’
‘Fine, you party pooper,’ he replies, sounding actually disappointed.
As we head back into the living room, I hear my phone vibrating against the table.
‘Ergh, it’s another text from Deano Gamble,’ I say out loud.
‘Which one is that?’ my brother asks and I shoot him a filthy look. ‘Genuinely,’ he insists. ‘I can’t keep up with your men.’
‘Deano is the rugby player I went on one date with, but he’s dumb as fuck.’
‘He plays for my team,’ Millsy reminds him.
‘You mean you do a sexy dance for him when he scores?’ Woody teases.
I fist-bump my brother and offer Millsy some ice for that burn.
‘Come on, what did he say?’ Millsy asks.
‘He says “Stop playing hard to get”,’ I tell them.
‘And your reply is going to be?’ Millsy continues to question me.
‘Stop playing hard to want,’ I tell them. ‘And, send. Right, rehearsal time.’
The first plan of action is to have a sort of table read, where Woody and I share out the other parts in the play, so that we can read through Millsy’s lines with him. As I glance over the script, it occurs to me just how well I remember this play. In fact, I’m pretty sure I can remember all my lines from Macbeth – and yet I can’t remember to turn the oven off when I’m done using it, or remember to buy toilet roll when we’ve run out. If only there were some way to dump useless information from your brain that you no longer need, in order to make room for other, more important stuff.
‘Right, let’s crack on,’ I tell them. ‘So –’
‘Wait,’ Millsy interrupts me. ‘Your Lady Macbeth has a plan of action already.’
‘I’m listening,’ I tell him.
‘Go out with Deano,’ Millsy says with a big grin. ‘Big, buff rugby dude, famous amongst Leeds folk, practically begging you to go out with him – so do it. Nick will see how in demand you are, the calibre of D you’re attracting and boom, he’ll wish you were his.’
‘I mean, I see what you’re saying,’ I start. ‘But I wouldn’t be comfortable using a man like that.’
‘This isn’t a man, this is Deano Gamble. He’s a dog. He only uses women – and yes, this is coming from me. I guarantee he’s only texting you because it will be keeping him up at night that he didn’t bang you. He never gets denied. He will persist for a while yet, you may as well use it to your advantage.’
‘Really?’ I ask.
‘Really. He’ll be like a dog with a
boner.’
I think for a moment.
‘Do you really think that will work?’ I ask.
Millsy nods his head, Woody shakes his.
‘This will end in tears, sis,’ he warns me.
‘Long as they’re not mine,’ I joke, but the more I think about it, the more Millsy might be onto something. Anyway, the least I can do is try, right? I guess I’m going on another date with Deano.
Chapter 16
The second I open my eyes I am filled with regret. I regret that I went out drinking with Millsy and Woody again. I regret that I stayed out until the early hours. I regret all the things I know I’d regret if I could remember them because I drank too much. Mostly, I just regret opening my eyes because the early morning sunlight is really doing a number on them.
I squeeze them tightly shut, wiggling and stretching my body out in an attempt to try and get more comfortable. My neck hurts, I’m not sure if it’s an extension of my hangover or this rock-solid memory foam pillow that I’m not used to – that’s when it hits me: I’m not in my own bed.
I open my eyes, slowly this time, giving them a fighting chance of adjusting to the harsh light of day. Nope, that is not my ceiling.
Running my hands down my body, I realise that I’m in my underwear. Oh God, what did I do? And who did I do it with? I’d be happy my dry spell was over, but I’m too freaked out.
The second I sit up, I realise where I am – I’m in Nick’s room. More importantly, in Nick’s bed.
‘Morning, kid,’ he says cheerily.
I snap my head to the left and see him sitting in his armchair, fully dressed, his fingers pressed together. He taps them together impatiently.
‘Morning,’ I reply awkwardly.
‘Good night was it?’ he asks.
‘You tell me,’ I joke – but it’s neither the time nor the place.
I rub my eyes, causing my fingertips to go black with eye make-up. As I glance around the room, I notice the dress I was wearing last night is over the top of the tall lamp that stands in the corner of Nick’s room. Oh God, no, please no…I’m getting flashbacks. The dress on the lamp is the only trigger I need for it all to come back. I came into Nick’s room on purpose, fully intent on seducing him. I remember whipping off my dress, swinging it around in the air before tossing it and climbing into bed with Nick.
Truth Or Date Page 11
