Truth Or Date

by Portia MacIntosh

  Nick runs his hands through his hair and sighs.

  ‘It’s just something we spoke about, once. It’s not a big deal.’

  ‘It’s a big deal to me when you’re talking about moving her in – giving her a key seems like the first logical step, are the wheels already in motion?’

  ‘Ruby, I can give my girlfriend a key without asking your permission,’ he replies.

  ‘Yes you can, babe,’ Heather assures him.

  Maybe it’s the fact I’m having a bad day, maybe it’s because Heather isn’t very nice or maybe it’s because I’m actually really jealous that she has what I want, but I snap.

  ‘Shut up, please, this is none of your business.’

  ‘Hey, don’t talk to her like that,’ Nick warns me and suddenly things are back to normal. We’re falling out and the fact I smuggled him perfectly cooked meat is a distant memory.

  ‘Leave her, Nick, she’s not worth it,’ Heather insists, ushering him towards his bedroom. Once they’re inside, they close the door behind them.

  Oh my God, how am I supposed to get through to Nick with that creature around? We were getting on just fine this evening until she showed up. At first I thought that perhaps Heather and I were just too different to get on, but the more I get to know her and the more run-ins I have with her, I realise she’s actually just a horrible person. I pour myself another glass of wine. Perhaps it’s time to try and make Nick realise that.

  Chapter 21

  When I found out that my brother was housesitting for my parents for two weeks, all on his own, I did wonder what he would do to amuse himself. I know from spending a few of days there over Christmas that I get very bored, very quickly, and my brother has it way worse rattling around in there on his own for a couple of weeks. That’s why Millsy and I have been dropping in on him, to keep him company. What we walked in on today, however, I was not at all prepared for.

  If I thought it was weird when I caught him hiding behind the curtain, ogling the woman next door, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I’ve just walked in on.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I ask, confused by the sight of my brother planking across the kitchen sink.

  ‘Shh! Get down,’ he insists. ‘And turn that light back off.’

  I do as instructed, flicking off the light before crouching down on the floor. Millsy follows my lead.

  ‘So, to repeat my question: what the fuck are you doing?’ I whisper.

  My brother shifts his weight a little, clearly finding his post uncomfortable, but not about to leave it unmanned.

  ‘It’s Weird Ian,’ he tells us. ‘I’ve been spying on him.’

  ‘Oh my god, you must be bored,’ I laugh. ‘So what’s he been up to?’

  My brother stares at me for a moment, and there’s this look in his eye, like he’s not joking.

  ‘So every night he has these different women in his house with him. I see them moving around the different rooms, through different windows –’

  ‘Fucking hell, pal. You are bored,’ Millsy laughs. ‘Granted it’s hard to comprehend: Weird Ian with even one woman, let alone multiple birds, but watching them at it is kind of grim.’

  ‘You didn’t let me finish,’ Woody snaps. ‘They never leave.’

  ‘Wait, what do you mean?’ I ask, puzzled.

  ‘I mean that I see these different women in his house, and then suddenly there’s no sign of them moving around. But then I notice Ian hurry out, but no women ever leave.’

  ‘You’ve lost me, mate,’ Millsy laughs.

  ‘Look, see that window there?’

  We glance where Woody is pointing and notice the silhouette of a woman. She looks tall and her hair is piled up in a big beehive, which only makes her appear taller. Ian is standing next to her, and seems short by comparison. I’m not actually sure if Ian is tall or short because I haven’t really seen him since I was younger. It always seemed like a good idea to keep out of his way, I mean, we call him Weird Ian, for crying out loud. We know what we’re dealing with.

  ‘So what?’ I ask.

  ‘Just watch,’ Woody insists.

  I am willing to humour my brother, so I do as he asks and watch out of the window. Soon enough the two figures disappear, and then…

  ‘See, look, Ian leaves the house straight after,’ Woody observes.

  I glance at the gap between Ian’s house and his neighbour’s, only to see Ian dashing off in a hurry. That is weird.

  ‘So, wait, what about the women?’ I ask. ‘When do they leave?’

  ‘They don’t,’ he tells me. ‘Not ever.’

  ‘They must do,’ Millsy insists.

  ‘Nope,’ Woody insists. ‘I watched all night yesterday.’

  I feel my eyes widen.

  ‘OK, intervention,’ I insist, grabbing him by the arm, pulling him down from the worktop. ‘You need some social interaction, you’re going mad here on your own. This is why people throw parties when they housesit, because it’s boring and weird and lonely.’

  ‘I tried to tell him,’ Millsy insists. ‘He was having none of it.’

  ‘Actually, I think that’s a very good idea,’ Woody says, shocking us both. ‘I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you both, like the good old days. Plus, Millsy said he’d bring some babes.’

  I narrow my eyes at my brother.

  ‘Erm, do I need to remind you that you’re married?’ I ask rhetorically, although it kind of sounds like he does need reminding. ‘Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?’

  Woody laughs.

  ‘My life is boring, and going out with you guys gave me a glimpse of what a fun life is like. This is my last chance to throw a big stupid party while my parents are away, and while my wife and son are away, so I think we should go for it.’

  ‘Yes!’ Millsy booms, looking up from his script for a moment. He spends pretty much every free second he has rehearsing, but opening night is very soon, and he hasn’t had as much time as the other actors. That’s why I’ve agreed to help him, because he’s my friend and he needs me. And luckily we both remember the play quite well from school, even if we did only initially join the drama club because we knew you got to skip lessons for rehearsals before big productions.

  I think for a moment. Yes, OK, I would love to throw a party, and if they’d left me housesitting I would’ve done just that, but that’s not exactly my brother’s scene. Then again, it’s nice to see him happy.

  ‘OK, sure, let’s do it,’ I give in, a huge grin spreading across my face. ‘How about Halloween?’

  ‘Yes!’ Millsy booms, twice as loud as his previous boom. ‘I love to dress up!’

  ‘That does sound like fun, let’s do it,’ Woody says, clapping his hands. ‘And it just so happens Halloween is on a Saturday this year, so that’s perfect.’

  The three of us exchange knowing glances. My brother might not be that much of a party animal, but he knows that I am, and he knows that Millsy is. When we were younger and always getting into trouble, Woody – the little goody two shoes that he was – would hide at the top of the stairs and watch as my parents yelled at me for getting home past my curfew. So even though he’s never really let his hair down, he knows that Millsy and I have this covered.

  ‘So, what’s the first rule of house-party planning?’ he asks.

  ‘Don’t have it at your own house,’ I tell him honestly. ‘But we’re beyond that. The second rule is to get loads of booze.’

  ‘That’s my job,’ Millsy chirps, raising his hand.

  ‘Then we need lots of cool people to come – I can get on that. Finally, someone needs to hide/bubble-wrap all the valuable/breakable stuff. Bro, that’s your job.’

  Woody frowns at the lame task he has been given, but it only lasts a second, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so psyched for anything.

  ‘Anyway, how are things going with Nick?’ my brother enquires. I think he worries about me, and he makes no secret that he thinks this plan is dumb. />
  I puff air from my cheeks.

  ‘It’s like I take one step forward and sixteen steps back! Just when I start making progress, something happens that puts us right back to square one.’

  ‘Here’s an idea,’ Woody starts. ‘Just tell him how you feel, like a normal person.’

  ‘Can’t do that,’ I reply, very matter-of-factly. ‘First up, it’s too much of a 180. I can’t be like: “you know how we hate each other? Well I actually quite like you now” can I? Also, he has a girlfriend. And she might be horrible, but I can’t just take her out of the picture. I need Nick to realise that he has feelings for me. I’m not going to trick him into liking me.’

  ‘You don’t need to trick him,’ Millsy chimes in, ‘but he does need a little gentle persuasion. The Scottish play has served us well so far, right?’

  ‘Debatable,’ I reply. ‘But go on.’

  ‘You need to do a Lady Macbeth. Emasculate him.’

  Woody and I chuckle.

  ‘I’m serious,’ Millsy insists. ‘Question his manhood.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll get much sense from that either,’ I giggle, causing Millsy to toss a cushion at me.

  ‘I’m telling you, you make him feel like less of a man, he’ll jump through hoops to prove he is. Try it.’

  I look over at my brother, who is laughing with his head in his hands.

  ‘Oh my God,’ he blurts, sitting upright. ‘I mean, as your ridiculous plan goes, why not, but it’s all stupid.’

  I think.

  ‘You’re like my Lady Macbeth,’ I tell Millsy affectionately.

  ‘And don’t you forget it,’ he replies.

  Chapter 22

  I’m back in Leeds and all I want to do is curl up on the sofa and watch Netflix – preferably with the flat to myself – but it seems like Nick has something similar in mind.

  ‘Evening,’ Nick says to me as I barge through the door.

  ‘Yo,’ I reply casually. Too casually? Who even says “yo” any more?

  Nick just laughs. He’s clicking through Netflix, as though he’s browsing for something to watch. I stand behind the sofa and look over his shoulder.

  ‘Oh my God, “because you watched The Spice Movie”,’ I read out loud.

  Nick clicks away, embarrassed.

  ‘It was Heather’s turn to pick the film,’ he explains. ‘She’s a big fan.’

  ‘She must be – I watched that film when I was nine and I didn’t exactly regard it as a masterpiece then. I thought you guys just watched documentaries and shit.’

  ‘You’ve got me all wrong,’ he laughs. ‘I’ve got excellent taste in movies.’

  ‘Sure you do,’ I reply. ‘Just like I’m excellent at removing babies from people.’

  Nick laughs.

  ‘What, like snatching them? “Removing babies” is a new and fascinating way to refer to what I do – like they’re an inflamed appendix.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ I reply. ‘Go on then, tell me which classics you’ve been choosing when it’s your turn.’

  Abandoning the remote to talk to me, he turns sideways to look me in the eye.

  ‘Hmm,’ he says thoughtfully. ‘Well the last film we watched was Rope.’

  ‘You did not,’ I reply.

  ‘We did – my choice. I love Hitchcock films.’

  I walk around the sofa and sit down next to him.

  ‘I love Hitchcock films,’ I tell him. ‘To the point where…oh my God, this is going to sound really sad.’

  ‘Go on,’ he prompts, making himself more comfortable.

  ‘Well, as much as I’d love to, I can’t bring myself to watch all of his movies. It’s going to sound stupid, but I know that as soon as I watch all of his films, that’s it, no more Hitchcock. I don’t want to run out.’

  ‘I can appreciate that,’ he replies. ‘I haven’t seen them all either. I’d like to, just never got around to it. We could do it together,’ he laughs.

  I think for a moment.

  ‘We could, but this could be a fluke. What was the film you chose before that?’

  Nick runs a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s feeling awkward, laughing to himself.

  ‘I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this one,’ he starts cautiously. ‘It’s not so much a classic, more a personal favourite and I can’t really explain why.’

  I pull my legs up on the sofa, shifting my body to face his before crossing my legs.

  ‘OK, now I’m really listening,’ I say excitedly.

  He takes a deep breath before quickly blurting it out, before he can think better of his confession.

  ‘Step Brothers.’

  ‘Say what?’ I reply theatrically. ‘That’s even more unbelievable than Rope.’

  ‘I know, I don’t fit the profile,’ he laughs. ‘I know it’s dumb, I just love it.’

  ‘You know,’ I start, ‘if we were to turn our beds into bunk beds…’

  Nick springs to life.

  ‘Oh my God, we’d have so much room for activities.’

  I feel a rush of something as he quotes my favourite movie to me.

  ‘I can’t believe we’ve been living together all this time and we’ve never spoken about what movies we like,’ I say.

  ‘We never talk about anything,’ he reminds me.

  ‘We don’t,’ I agree. ‘We just argue about stupid things, like whose turn it is to have custody of the sofa and the TV, or whether or not eggs should be kept in the fridge.’

  ‘Of course they should be kept in the fridge,’ he exclaims in horror. ‘You’re a barbarian.’

  I smile at him. It’s a shame it has taken us until now to realise we have things in common. I guess we’ve always just focused on the things that make us different.

  Nick’s phone springs to life, interrupting our moment. He answers it, using short blunt sentences before hanging up.

  ‘That’s Heather,’ he tells me. ‘She needs me to go give her a hand, she can’t open the door with the takeaway in her hands.’

  ‘You guys are having a takeaway?’ I gasp.

  Nick pulls a face.

  ‘Don’t get excited, it’s from that vegan place.’

  ‘More of a “please take this away” than a “takeaway”,’ I correct him, making gagging noises as I pretend to stick my fingers down my throat.

  Nick laughs to himself as he heads downstairs. God, why do I have to find him so dreamy? And why does he have to be such a good guy? He’s watching crap movies and eating rubbish food just for Heather. Ergh, my conscience is getting to me again. I should probably try and be nicer to Heather, get to know her a little better. That might stop me lusting after her boyfriend a bit, right?

  ‘Oh, Ruby, hello, someone told me you’d be out,’ Heather says disappointedly the second she claps eyes on me.

  ‘Yeah, erm, I assumed you would’ve been,’ Nick replies awkwardly. ‘No big deal.’

  Time to be mature.

  ‘I’m in for the evening, but I’ll be out of your way in five minutes. Just let me grab something to eat and I’ll go to my room,’ I assure them.

  ‘I’d offer you some of this, but we didn’t order much,’ Heather tells me.

  ‘That smells…’ I soften and refrain from one of my usual jibes. ‘…delicious. But don’t worry, I’ll get myself something.’

  The pair of them look confused by my reply. I just smile.

  ‘Erm, OK,’ Heather replies. ‘Nick, babe, get some plates please?’

  ‘Sure,’ he replies dutifully.

  He really is so devoted to her, it blows me away. Nine times out of ten I can’t even get a text back, and here is a man who will do anything for his girlfriend.

  Heather sits down on the sofa. I sit next to her – another move which perplexes her. She’s got a look on her face, like she truly believes I might be about to attack her at close quarters.

  ‘What are you going to watch?’ I ask her.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she replies slowly. �
��You seem very…mellow.’

  ‘That’s me,’ I smile.

  ‘It’s just…you’re being nice.’

  ‘I am nice,’ I insist. ‘Can’t we all just be friends?’

  Nick creeps up on us.

  ‘What, you want to start going on double dates?’ he laughs.

  ‘OK, sure,’ I reply. ‘Heather, what do you say?’

  Heather eyeballs me cautiously, like she’s still trying to figure out what my game is.

  ‘What, me and Nick, go out with you and…?’

  ‘I’m dating one of the Leeds Lions,’ I tell her. ‘You’d love him!’

  ‘No she wouldn’t,’ Nick insists.

  ‘Actually, I’d love that,’ Heather says with a smile. ‘Make the arrangements and we’ll be there, won’t we, babe?’

  ‘Sure,’ Nick replies, again in his usual dutiful way, but there’s a reluctance he just can’t hide.

  ‘Nick, cutlery,’ Heather tuts.

  With Nick back in the kitchen, Heather leans closer to me.

  ‘I’ve always had a thing for rugby players, does he have any friends?’

  I stare at her blankly for a second.

  ‘I’m kidding,’ she laughs. ‘Your face. But, you know, if he does happen to bring any of his friends…’

  I frown as I climb to my feet.

  ‘I’m going to grab some Frosties and go watch TV in my room,’ I tell them. ‘Have fun. I’ll hit you with the details when I have it sorted.’

  As I walk to my room, shovelling cereal into my face on the way before the milk gets the chance to make it soggy, I think over my exchange with Heather. That’s a weird joke to make, but it kind of sounded like she was serious.

  Cereal devoured, I sit down on my bed and text Millsy an update.

  Millsy: She wants some rugby D, mate.

  Ruby: That’s what it sounded like to me. Was just trying to be her mate. Don’t know why I suggested a bloody double date, now I’m stuck with it. Help?

  I’m not always sure Millsy is the best person to ask advice of, but he is certainly the person I know who gets in the most romantic scrapes, so maybe he’ll have something helpful under his belt. So to speak.

  Millsy: Truth or date, Rubes. I keep telling you. Either confess your feelings or play the game. Use the date to show him what a catch you are, and like I keep saying, LADY MACBETH HIM!