Truth Or Date

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Truth Or Date Page 20

by Portia MacIntosh


  We both have a moment where we remember that Heather is a person that exists, that we have to take into consideration. I can see Nick coming to the realisation that he has plans, as I come to a similar one.

  ‘Bring Heather too,’ I insist. ‘I mean, this is the last time Halloween will fall on a Saturday while we’re in our twenties. We should make the most of it.’

  ‘That’s a good point, I’ll see if she’s up for it.’

  ‘Great,’ I lie, secretly hoping she can’t make it, but that Nick still comes. ‘Thanks for looking out for me, by the way.’

  ‘You’re welcome, kid. It all falls under the Hippocratic Oath anyway, don’t think you’re getting special treatment.’

  I laugh.

  ‘Get back to your family’s party,’ I insist.

  ‘I suppose I should,’ he starts, although he isn’t making much of a move. ‘Look, I might be late here, and I know you’re working…but could we talk in the morning, maybe? I’ll check your wrist out, and maybe I’ll ask you again if you think I’m doing the right thing, because I’m not sure you answered me tonight…’

  ‘I didn’t,’ I tell him. ‘Sure thing. We can grab some breakfast.’

  ‘I might even have a cheat day – I might even have some meat,’ he tells me, widening his eyes for effect.

  ‘Oh wow, well I look forward to leading you astray,’ I tell him with a smile.

  For a brief moment, we just look into each other’s eyes. My God, I love it when he makes eye contact with me. There’s something about those deep, dark brown eyes – when they’re on you, you feel like the most important person in the world. I blink to break the intensity of my stare, but when I open my eyes again I realise that Nick’s face is much closer to mine, his mouth inches from my own. He’s so close that, if I were to so much as pout gently, our lips would be touching. He moves the last few centimetres until our lips touch, but just as we make contact, we’re interrupted.

  ‘Nick? Are you out here?’ a woman’s voice calls.

  ‘I am,’ he calls back. ‘On my way.’

  We go back to looking at each other for a second before he heads back towards the house.

  ‘See you around, kid.’

  ‘Have a good night,’ I call after him.

  Am I actually getting somewhere with Nick? He definitely sounds like he’s having doubts about Heather, and I really feel like we’re getting on. And, OK, we didn’t really kiss, but that was the start of one, for sure. Maybe there is some hope for us.

  As I stroll back towards the house I spot Millsy, sitting on the edge of the fountain, swigging champagne from the bottle. His make-up is smudged, his dress is hanging off and his wig needs some major adjusting.

  ‘Not one element of what I can see right now surprises me,’ I tell him. ‘But what the fuck are you doing?’

  ‘I got fired,’ he tells me, holding his arms out, laughing wildly.

  ‘You don’t seem too bothered.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he informs me. ‘I’m going to be a huge movie star. Why are you out here?’

  ‘I fell over, hurt my hand, it’s not exciting – go on, why did you get fired?’

  I take a seat next to my friend, who hands me the bottle of champagne. I take a nice, long, medicinal swig.

  ‘I was hitting on the birthday girl,’ he tells me. ‘But then her husband showed up – what can you do, eh? I was only trying to give her a present.’

  ‘That’s Nick’s sister, by the way,’ I tell him.

  ‘What? No way. So this is Nick’s mum and dad’s house?’

  I nod my head.

  ‘Wow. Dicks all over where we grew up,’ he laughs. ‘No wonder Heather is marrying him for his money – I’m surprised you’re not trying harder.’

  ‘Hilarious,’ I tell him, splashing him with fountain water.

  ‘So, I’m not allowed back in there,’ Millsy informs me. ‘But one of the others said they’d bring my bag for me. Shall I ask him to grab your stuff too, and we’ll hit the town in our pretty frocks?’

  If there’s one thing I love about Millsy, it’s the very small number of fucks he gives about anything. He won’t bat an eyelid about going out in town dressed as a woman, in fact, he’ll enjoy the attention.

  ‘I’d love that,’ I reply. ‘I’ll book us a taxi to the station.’

  ‘Woop!’ Millsy booms. ‘Does my lipstick need touching up first or…?’

  ‘No way, you’re all good, babe,’ I reply.

  I’ll have a girly night out with Miss Mills, make sure I get home at a reasonable time and then I’ll have breakfast and a chat with Nick, and finally lay my cards on the table. No more games, no more manipulating – no more Macbeth-ing.

  Chapter 30

  Not a hangover, sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa, nor the pitiful amount of shut-eye I actually managed can affect my awesome mood today; I woke up feeling so positive.

  OK, so I didn’t get an early night last night, I stayed out into the crazy hours with Millsy, but we were just having so much fun that we didn’t want to call it a night. Also, Millsy left his flat keys at the party with the rest of his stuff, so he had nowhere to go. Adamant he couldn’t enter my flat while Nick was there, he refused to stay the night – until it got cold, and I promised him that if we just left it late enough that Nick would go to bed, and we’d be able to sneak him in. Somehow, we managed it. I hid Millsy safely away in my bedroom and slept on the sofa, making sure to wake up super early to head out and grab Nick’s favourite breakfast stuff (I know he loves croissants with cream cheese and bacon on his rare cheat days). Now I just need to smuggle Millsy out before Nick is any the wiser. You literally have to get up pretty early in the day to get up before Nick, but I think I’ve managed it – that is until I climb the stairs to the flat and bump into Nick as he’s walking from the bathroom to his bedroom.

  ‘Morning, you,’ I say brightly.

  ‘Morning,’ he replies quietly. ‘Late night last night, huh?’

  ‘A little.’ I laugh, awkwardly. He seems mad. I wrack my brains for what I might have done wrong. ‘My wrist was hurting so I didn’t think I’d be much use at the party. It feels better now.’

  ‘Yeah, I heard,’ he replies, heading off towards his room.

  ‘So shall I start breakfast?’ I call after him.

  ‘Not hungry,’ he calls back, closing his door behind him.

  Well, that was weird. Last night he couldn’t be sweeter with me, now he’s back to hating my guts again. OK, I need to make sure I don’t make things worse, I need to get Millsy out of here ASAP.

  I creep until my bedroom to find Millsy already wide-awake, painting a clear coat of nail polish on his toes.

  ‘Mate, you drag-up once and suddenly you want to be a bird?’ I ask.

  ‘I just want shiny toes,’ he tells me. ‘Birds always tell me I have Hobbit feet.’

  I pull a face.

  ‘No way have you ever slept with a bird who knows what a Hobbit is.’

  ‘Fine, I’m paraphrasing,’ he admits. ‘But they tell me that they’re gross and it’s hard to get girls into reverse cowgirl if they’re gagging over your toes.’

  ‘Anyway…so we need to a) get you out of here and b) make sure you never tell me anything like that ever again,’ I start, grabbing his things before realising that he arrived here in a dress. I grab my largest pair of joggers and an oversized hoodie, hoping he’ll be able to fit into them, but also hoping he can’t, because if a big, muscular dude can fit into my clothes, then maybe I am a little bigger than I should be.

  Millsy slowly pulls himself to his feet.

  ‘You’re actually about to realise you owe me a huge thank you,’ he tells me.

  ‘For getting toe hair in my nail polish? I doubt that, babe. Now hurry up.’

  ‘I’m awake because Nick woke me up,’ he informs me. Oh, so that’s why he’s mad? Just because Millsy is here? That’s extreme. ‘But I didn’t want him to know I was here, and I know you’re trying to make him je
alous…’

  I stop dead in my tracks.

  ‘Oh, fuck. What did you do?’

  ‘You don’t seem happy yet, which is confusing, but OK. So I figured he’d assume if you had a bloke in here, it’d be Deano, so I made sex noises. Loud, grunty, epic banging sounds – you were phenomenal, by the way. And that’s why I’m an actor,’ he announces proudly, until he sees my face. ‘Why are you looking at me like you want to kick me in the dick?’

  ‘Millsy…you have no idea what you’ve done…’

  ‘Saved the day?’ he asks. ‘Is it saved the day? I’ve fucked up, haven’t I? I thought you were trying to make him jealous.’

  ‘Yeah, until last night. I told you all about it last night. That I had a really good talk with him, we nearly kissed, and that we were going to talk this morning.’

  ‘Did you tell me post getting off the train in Leeds?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, there you go. I’d had a fuck-load of champers by then, and then I drank even more. Come on, Rubes. You know me.’

  ‘I know I want to “kick you in the dick”,’ I tell him. ‘Right, let’s just get you out of here. Maybe I can fix this.’

  ‘He’s not even worth it,’ Millsy insists as I usher him towards the door.

  I peep out of my bedroom. The coast is clear. Nick’s bedroom door sits exactly opposite from mine, in fact, they’re less than two metres apart. His door is still closed, so as long as we’re quiet, we’re fine.

  ‘OK, let’s…’ my voice trails off. As an example of my exceptionally bad luck, Nick walks out of his room, just as I am dragging Millsy out of my bedroom – Millsy who is still pulling my hoodie over his head.

  ‘About me snapping before,’ Nick starts, but then he glances over my shoulder, spotting Millsy just as his head pops out of the hoodie. I watch Nick’s eyes widen with horror.

  ‘Wait, that was Joey I heard you having sex with earlier?’ he asks, visibly disgusted. ‘I knew there was something going on between you. Men and women are never such good friends without something…and then there’s Deano. You know, when you were upset the other day, I felt so sorry for you – I also saw this whole other side to you, and I liked her. And then last night…but now this…what the fuck is wrong with you, Ruby? Exactly how many men are you juggling?’

  Oh, shit. I don’t know what to say. What words are going to make all of this OK? Because his very wrong version of events is awful, but is the truth going to sound much better?’

  ‘Nick, wait, there’s nothing going on between Millsy and me,’ I start, but he’s not listening.

  ‘Save it,’ he replies. ‘I don’t want to know.’

  ‘But if you let me explain,’ I start.

  ‘Mate, I wouldn’t touch her with yours,’ Millsy jokes, but this only makes Nick even angrier. He grabs his coat and storms out of the flat. Millsy and I stare at each other for a moment.

  ‘So you were right,’ he says eventually. ‘I did fuck up. But, I will do anything to make it up to you. Anything.’

  ‘Yes you will,’ I reply. ‘And I’ve got just the thing in mind.’

  Chapter 31

  Another day, another costume, except this time it’s Halloween, and this time I’m picking what I get to wear – Millsy too. I can’t be mad at him about this morning, it’s not his fault that Nick got upset, not really. Everything is such a mess with all the lying and the manipulating, and Millsy was only trying to help.

  He has promised me, no questions asked, that he will help me fix things with Nick – to whatever degree is possible, just as soon as I think of something. Things felt a little fraught between us earlier and he’s my best friend, I don’t want that. So we agreed that we would forget about it for the rest of the day, and just enjoy the big Halloween party at my parents’ house. I did get him to agree to a double-act Halloween costume though, so tonight, we are Khal Drogo and Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones, and we’ve nailed it.

  It’s 5pm and we’ve arrived back in Outwood, ready to help Woody get ready for the party later. It’s cold and dark out, and weirdly, all the lights are off at home.

  Millsy and I stare at each other, exchanging a “what the fuck” glance, no words needed.

  ‘Hello?’ I call out as we walk in through the unlocked door. ‘Woody?’

  ‘I’m in here,’ he calls out, from the kitchen, I think.

  We head into the kitchen and find Woody sitting on the floor, in the dark.

  ‘Every time I come over, you’re doing something proper weird,’ I tell him.

  Millsy flicks the light on.

  ‘No, don’t,’ Woody insists, but it’s too late.

  I can’t help but notice that my brother is in his usual clothes.

  ‘You’re dressed as a…,’ I pretend to think about it. ‘Middle-aged bore,’ I conclude.

  ‘Oi, I didn’t spend ages helping you find a Spiderman onesie so that you could chicken out of wearing a costume – not after last year’s cringe-fest,’ Millsy insists. He’s referring to photos on Facebook from last Halloween, that show the “family” costume my brother, his wife and my nephew dressed in. ‘I guess not dressing up is preferable to the old man from Up, but only just.’

  Yes, my brother did dress as the old man from Up. His tiny wife, Dani, dressed as the little boy and Robbie, my nephew, was the dog. It was as awful as it sounds. Spiderman is a much cooler choice, and Millsy has spent the best part of the last week trying to find this onesie for Woody.

  ‘Fuck you,’ Woody says to me. ‘And fuck you,’ he tells Millsy. ‘Guys, listen, I messed up.’

  ‘Yeah, you’ve been banging on all week about how you shouldn’t have got married so young, you want to be more like Millsy, blah blah,’ I state.

  ‘I’m pretty good hashtag: life goals,’ Millsy insists.

  ‘Yeah, if the life goal is to collect STDs like they’re Pokémon,’ I quip.

  ‘At least people will have sex with me because I’m not a big fucking Pokémon nerd,’ Millsy laughs.

  ‘Guys, listen,’ Woody snaps, seriously. ‘I really messed up.’

  We both sit down on the floor next to him, me being careful not to pop a boob out of my Daenerys dress.

  ‘What’s up, bro?’ I ask. ‘You’re scaring me.’

  He exhales deeply before he starts talking.

  ‘So I’ve been keeping an eye on Weird Ian,’ he starts. ‘I’m obsessed with what’s going on over there. I saw him go in there with a woman earlier…this keeps happening. A woman goes into the house with him, I see them moving around and then suddenly he leaves, and the woman is never seen again.’

  ‘You’ve still never seen a woman leave?’ I ask. ‘Ever?’

  ‘Nope. And I’ve been watching.’

  I can tell from his tired eyes and nervous disposition that he really has been keeping an eye on things, and that what he’s saying, he is sure is true.

  ‘So how did you fuck up?’ Millsy asks.

  ‘Well, tonight I decided enough was enough. I needed to know what was going on…so I waited until it was dark and snuck over there. I climbed the fence into his back garden and I tried to look in the window.’

  ‘So what happened?’ I ask.

  ‘I knocked a plant off his garden table and the pot smashed. He heard and headed for the backdoor, so I ran back to our garden – I just made it in time.’

  ‘Well, there you go, no harm done,’ I reassure him.

  My brother shakes his head solemnly.

  ‘OK, what harm did you do?’

  ‘I’d been using my phone for the torch,’ he tells us. ‘I must’ve dropped it in his back garden.’

  ‘You idiot,’ Millsy tells him. ‘Everyone knows: make sure you never leave any evidence at the scene of the crime.’

  ‘Like your DNA, or your name written in Sharpie on the bathroom wall,’ I remind him.

  ‘I still have no idea why I did that,’ he laughs.

  I turn back to my brother.

  ‘What happened n
ext?’ I ask.

  ‘He went back inside, and then he left not long after – no sign of the woman.’

  ‘So, just go get it.’

  ‘No way,’ my brother insists. ‘He’s up to something, I’m not getting strangled.’

  ‘Millsy?’

  ‘Fuck that,’ he laughs.

  ‘You two are supposed to be men,’ I remind them, but not even a swipe at their masculinity is going to talk them into it. ‘You’re both pathetic,’ I tell them. ‘I’ll go, because I’m not scared. And anyway, if you said he was out, then it’s no big deal.’

  ‘Go on then,’ Millsy laughs. ‘Reverse psychology won’t work on me, dude.’

  I shake my head as I pull myself to my feet. The two main men in my life would sooner see me trespass in a potential serial killer’s garden, rather than risk it themselves.

  I leave via the backdoor and make my way down to the end of the garden. I glance back and see that not only is the kitchen light off again, but I can just about make out my brother and Millsy peeping up from above the worktop. Pathetic.

  I reach the fence at the bottom of the garden, the one that backs onto Ian’s garden, and wonder how the fuck I’m supposed to get over it. Not only am I at least seven inches shorter than my brother, but I’m wearing a long cream dress. Definitely not climbing attire.

  What would Daenerys do? She’d be strong and resourceful. Or maybe she’d just have a dragon fly her over. The only pet we have back at home is a nameless fairground fish that just refuses to die, that’s not going to be much use to me.

  I glance around the garden, spotting the toddler-sized F1 car that my dad prematurely and excitedly bought for Robbie. I push it up towards the fence and climb on top, using it as a boost to get over the wall. Just as I manage to get one leg over the top of the fence, my foot slips, sending the car flying. I manage to keep balanced on the top of the fence, but there’s no turning back now. I swing my other leg over and drop down on the other side into Ian’s garden.

  I blow air out of my cheeks. Here we go. I creep in an almost crouched position across his garden, towards his house, carefully checking in the long unkempt grass for Woody’s iPhone. He said he was looking in the window, so my best bet is to look there.

 

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