by Marian Keyes
“Forget it.” I sighed self-righteously. “Let’s just forget it. But don’t let it happen again.”
Mean of me, I know. It takes two to tango, etc., etc., but I had enough on my mind, without wondering if I liked Daniel that way.
I wouldn’t think about it, I decided. I was good at not thinking about unpleasant things. At the time, I didn’t know just how good I was.
After about ten minutes, Daniel shamefully slunk off. Dad stood at the front door, almost shaking his fist after him and watched until he was sure Daniel was gone. We hadn’t even given him a valedictory cup of tea. My mother would turn in her grave.
I wished.
Chapter 65
Daniel came to Uxbridge to see me a couple of nights after the great shamefest. I was so embarrassed and confused that I would have been quite happy never to have seen him again, but he had pestered me.
First he called me at work the day afterwards and asked me to meet him for lunch. I told him I didn’t want to.
“Please, Lucy,” he said.
“Why?” I asked. “Oh no.”
“Oh no, what?”
“If you say we have to talk, I’ll kill you,” I said.
Megan, Meredia and Jed nearly gave themselves whiplash looking up with interest.
“Actually, we do have to talk,” said Daniel. “About your apartment.”
My apartment? “What about it?” I was surprised.
“Just let me talk to you.”
It was obviously an excuse, but I decided to go along with it.
“Come out to the house tomorrow night,” I finally agreed.
To my alarm, I felt warm and glad at the thought of seeing him. A stop would have to be put to that.
“I’ll come and meet you after work,” he offered.
“Oh no!” I said quickly. There was no way I could bear an entire train journey with him. I would spontaneously combust from unspoken embarrassment.
When I hung up the phone, Megan, Meredia and Jed descended on me like vultures.
“Who was it?”
“Was it Gus?”
“What’s going on?”
“Are you together again?” they had clamoured.
I was frighteningly nervous as I waited at home for Daniel to arrive.
My head raced with the pros and cons—well, actually the cons and cons—of it all. Kissing Daniel had been a big mistake. Any further liaisons of this kind would be careless in the extreme.
Okay, so I felt as if I was incredibly attracted to him, but I knew that I wasn’t really. The shock of my mother leaving my father had addled my emotions and I just thought I did. Daniel’s kissing me had been the product of an unusual set of circumstances.
Let’s look at it dispassionately, I thought, as I frantically brushed my hair. Dad watched me benignly. He wouldn’t be quite so benign when he realized who I was brushing my hair for.
On the one hand, I thought dramatically, there was me. Confused, vulnerable, needy, a child from a freshly broken home, ready to love the first person who showed her affection.
On the other hand, there was Daniel—a man who was used to a lot of sex, and who hadn’t had it in a couple of days. So naturally he wasn’t choosy about who he interfered with. I had been there. He had interfered with me.
See. Not choosy.
And Daniel was a man who loved a challenge. What Karen had screeched at me on Sunday night had confirmed what I had always known. Daniel probably just went after me because I was the only girl in town who didn’t have a crush on him.
But I would not succumb, I thought grimly.
For once I would resist the impulse to self-destruct. I would not love Daniel. I would be different.
As soon as I opened the front door to him, my resolution to not be attracted to him wavered, then dissolved.
“Hello,” I said to the knot of his tie.
He bent to kiss me and a roar came from the kitchen.
“Hey you!” yelled Dad. “Leave my daughter alone!”
Daniel backed off hurriedly. I felt like a starving person who’d had a bag of chips waved under her nose and then whisked away.
“Come in,” I invited the collar of his shirt.
I was horribly awkward. As I led him through the hall, I banged my hipbone on the telephone table and then had to pretend it didn’t hurt. I didn’t want him to offer to kiss it better. Because I might have let him.
“Take off your coat.” I stared his breast-pocket in the eye.
I was disgusted by the effect he was having on me. It was obvious that I was way out of my depth, only temporarily, of course. Only because my parents had split up. But all the same I had to protect myself.
I decided that I wouldn’t be alone with him and, after he left that evening, I wouldn’t see him again, ever. Well, maybe not ever, but for a while at least. Until I was back to normal, whatever that was.
As part of my cunning plan, I forced Daniel into the kitchen, where Dad sat glaring.
“Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” Daniel said nervously.
“Haven’t you a lot of nerve?” growled Dad. “Coming back here after you treating my home like a…like a…like a hoor house.”
“Shush, Dad.” I was mortified. “It won’t happen again.” Thankfully, he shut up.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” I asked Daniel’s shoulder.
“When are we getting the crispy pancakes?” Dad interrupted rudely.
“What crispy pancakes?”
“We always have crispy pancakes on a Wednesday.”
“But today’s Thursday.”
“Is it? Well, when are we getting the stew?”
“Do you always have stew on Thursdays?”
He looked at me mournfully.
“Sorry, Dad, I’ll get into a routine next week. Can you make do with a pizza for this evening?”
“A pizza that you call for?” He suddenly perked up.
“Yes.” What other types were there? I wondered.
“Not one from the freezer?” The look of hope on his face was heartrending.
“God, no.”
“Great,” he said with glee. “And can we get beer?”
“Of course.”
I suspected that he was fulfilling a lifelong ambition. My mother would have frowned on such extravagance.
When I called the pizza company, Dad insisted on speaking personally to the man who made the pizzas to discuss what toppings he should have.
“What are anchovies? Go on, sure I’ll have a couple. What are capers? Sure, you might as well fling a few on.” I had to admire Daniel’s patience, although I still couldn’t look him in the eye.
When the pizzas and beer arrived, the three of us sat around the kitchen table. As soon as the food was eaten, Dad recommenced glaring at Daniel. The tension was dreadful.
Dad wouldn’t look directly at Daniel. He stared viciously at him whenever Daniel was looking at something else, but looked away quickly whenever Daniel flicked a glance at him. Daniel suspected that Dad was giving him dirty looks, so then he started to try and catch Dad at it. One microsecond he’d be idly drinking his beer, then, in a blur, he’d whip his head around to where Dad was staring at him. Then, in another blur, Dad whipped his head away and slurped his beer with a face as innocent as an angel’s.
It went on for hours. At least, that was how it felt.
The atmosphere was so loaded that, when we finished the beer, we started, with gusto, on the whiskey.
The few times that Dad turned away to shout insults at a politician on the television, Daniel made all kinds of energetic gestures with his face and head, winking and jerking his head toward the door, indicating that we should exit by it and go to another room. Probably the living room, for a repeat performance.
I ignored him.
But finally Dad decided to go to bed.
We were all quite drunk by then.
“Are you going to be here all night?” he demanded to Daniel.
“No,” said Daniel
.
“Well, off with you, so,” he said, standing up.
“Would you mind if I had a word with Lucy in private, Mr. Sullivan?” Daniel asked.
“Mind? Mind!” Dad sputtered. “After the way you two were carrying on the other night, you can be damn sure that I mind.”
“I’m sorry about that,” said Daniel humbly. “And I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
“Do you promise?” Dad asked sternly.
“I promise,” said Daniel solemnly.
“All right, then,” said Dad.
“Thanks,” said Daniel.
“Now, I’m trusting the two of you, mind,” said Dad, waggling his finger at us. “No hijinks, right?”
“None,” promised Daniel. “Not a jink of any level, low, medium or high.”
Dad shot him a suspicious glare. Daniel put on his ultra-earnest, you can-trust-me-with-your-daughter-Mr.-Sullivan face. Not quite convinced, Dad shuffled off to bed.
Of course, I expected Daniel to try and jump me the minute the door closed after Dad. I was put out when he didn’t. All evening, I had been looking forward to fighting him off and calling him a pervert. But he confused me by tenderly taking my hand and speaking gently.
“Lucy,” he said. “I want to talk to you about something important.”
“Oh yes,” I said sarcastically. “About my”—little snigger—“apartment.” I knew a pretext as well as the next woman.
“Yes,” he said. “I hope you don’t think I’m interfering—actually I know you’ll think I’m interfering—but please don’t take your name off the lease just yet.”
That floored me—I hadn’t really expected him to want to talk about my living arrangements.
“But why not?” I asked him.
“All I’m saying is, don’t rush into something that you can’t get out of,” he said.
“I’m not,” I said.
“You are,” he said. The nerve of him. “You’re too upset at the moment to make a rational decision.”
“No, I’m not,” I said as my eyes filled with tears.
“Yes, you are,” he said. “Just look at you.”
Maybe he had a point, but I couldn’t give in without a fight. I gulped a mouthful of whiskey. “But what sense does it make?” I asked him, “to live with my dad and pay rent on a flat?”
“But you may not want to stay with your father after a while,” he suggested.
“Don’t be silly,” I said.
“Well, your mother may come back. She might make up with your dad,” he said.
That thought filled me with alarm. “Unlikely,” I blustered.
“Well, what about when you go into town and you’ve missed the last train home and you don’t want to spend a thousand pounds on a taxi back to Uxbridge? Wouldn’t it be sensible to have a little pied-à-terre in Ladbroke Grove?” he suggested.
“But Daniel,” I said desperately, “there won’t be any nights out on the town anymore. That part of my life is over. More whiskey?”
“Yes please. Lucy, I’m very worried about you,” he said, putting on his concerned face.
“Don’t be,” I said, annoyed and frustrated. “And don’t give me that cute face, I’m not one of your…your…women. You obviously don’t realize the seriousness of what’s happened to my family. My mother has left my father and I have responsibilities.”
“People’s mothers leave people’s fathers every day of the week,” said Daniel. “And the fathers cope. They don’t need their daughters to give up everything and act as if they’ve entered a nunnery.”
“Daniel, I want to do this, it’s not a sacrifice. I have to do it, I have no choice in it. I don’t care if I can’t go out and have fun anymore. Besides I wasn’t having fun anyway.” I was nearly in tears at the idea of such goodness, such daughterly devotion.
“Please, Lucy, just wait a month or so.” He didn’t look as moved as I felt.
“Oh, all right then,” I agreed.
“Is that a promise?” he asked.
“I suppose it is.”
And then I caught Daniel’s eye. Christ, he was good-looking! I nearly knocked over my glass.
I was impatient for the molesting to begin. I was so sure that he’d arranged to see me just so he could try to kiss me that I was damned if he was leaving without trying.
Chapter 66
What I did next was very out of character for me.
I blame it on the amount I’d had to drink. Combined with the trauma. Plus the fact that I hadn’t had sex in a long, long time.
The sort of willpower, where you really like someone but keep away from them because you know that they’re bad news, doesn’t exist in real life. Not in my version of it anyway. My heart ruled my head.
My lust ruled my head.
“Maybe it’s time I started,” I said slowly.
“Started what?”
“Fun. Having it.”
Purposefully—if a bit unsteadily—I stood up, holding his gaze, and made my way around the kitchen table to Daniel. While he sat staring uncertainly at me, I coaxed a piece of my hair seductively over one eye and then wantonly wriggled onto his lap and put my arms around his neck.
I moved my face closer to his.
God, he was gorgeous. Just look at that beautiful mouth, and any second now it would be kissing me. What I needed was some wild abandoned sex, lots of affection. And who better to do it than Daniel?
Of course I wasn’t in love with him. I was in love with Gus. But I was a woman. And I had my needs.
“Lucy, what are you doing?” he asked.
“What does it look like?” I tried to make my voice husky and sexy.
He didn’t put his arms around me. I wriggled a bit closer to him.
“But you promised your dad.” He looked worried.
“No I didn’t. You did.”
“Did I? Okay, I promised your dad.”
“You lied,” I said. More low, sultry tones. This seduction was great fun, I decided. And remarkably easy.
I was looking forward to this. I was going to enjoy myself like I hadn’t enjoyed myself in months.
“Lucy, no,” he said.
No? No? Was I hearing things?
He stood up and I sort of slid off his lap.
I landed on the floor, swaying slightly. Scorching humiliation hadn’t arrived yet, as intoxication was blocking the road. But it was definitely on its way.
How excruciating. Daniel would make out with anyone. What was wrong with me? Surely I wasn’t that revolting?
“Lucy, I’m flattered…”
Now, that annoyed me.
“Flattered!” I roared. “Fuck off, you patronizing fucker. You can give it but you can’t take it. You flirt with me; then, when I call your bluff, you can’t deliver the goods.”
“Lucy, it’s not that at all. But you’re too upset and confused and I would be taking advantage…”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I said.
“Lucy, I’m very attracted to you…”
“But you don’t want to have sex with me,” I finished for him.
“You’re right, I don’t want to have sex with you.”
“God, how embarrassing,” I whispered.
Then I rallied.
“Well, what were you playing at the other night?” I demanded. “That wasn’t a pistol in your pocket—you certainly acted like a man on the make, then.”
“Lucy, look at me,” coaxed Daniel. “I want to tell you something.”
I turned a face burning with shame to him.
“I’d like to make it clear that I don’t want to have sex with you,” he said. “But, when things are different and you’re not so upset and your life isn’t in such upheaval, I would like to make love to you.”
Now that was funny. I laughed and laughed.
“What have I said?” He looked confused.
“Oh Daniel, please. What a slimy, smooth-bastard thing to say. ‘I’d like to make love to you,’ but not a
t the moment. Please give me a little credit—I know when I’m being rejected.”
“You’re not being rejected.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’d like to make love to me,” I cruelly mimicked him.
“That’s right,” he said quietly.
“But not right now. If that’s not rejection, I don’t know what is.” I laughed again. He had hurt me and humiliated me and I wanted to do the same to him.
“Please, Lucy, listen to—”
“No!”
Then I either sobered up or calmed down.
“I’m very sorry about all of this, Daniel. I’m not in the fullness of my mental health. It’s all been a terrible mistake.”
“No, it hasn’t…”
“And now I think it’s time you left; you’ve a long journey home.”
He looked sadly at me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said grumpily. “I’ve been rejected by much more attractive men than you. As soon as the killer mortification wears off, I’ll be fine.”
He opened his mouth to begin a fresh stream of platitudes.
“Goodbye, Daniel,” I said firmly.
He kissed me on the cheek. I stood as if made of stone.
“I’ll phone you tomorrow,” he said at the front door.
I shrugged.
Things would never be the same again.
God, I felt depressed.
Chapter 67
The following day I took official leave of my Ladbroke Grove residence, though, as I’d promised Daniel, I’d continue to pay rent to keep my room there. Charlotte and Karen waved goodbye, after Karen had forced me to leave a handful of post-dated checks for the rent.
“Goodbye. I may never see you again,” I said, hoping to make her feel guilty.
“Oh don’t, Lucy.” Charlotte was nearly in tears. She was so sentimental.
“We’ll contact you when the phone bill comes in,” said Karen.
“My life is over,” I said coldly. “But,” I added. “If Gus calls, make bloody sure you give him my number.”
Chapter 68
Living with Dad wasn’t the way I thought it would be.
I thought that we wanted the same things—I would devote my life to taking care of him and making him happy, and he would reciprocate by letting himself be taken care of and being happy.
