It's Not You It's Him: An absolutely hilarious and feel-good romantic comedy

by Sophie Ranald

  ‘We’re not supposed to feed him,’ Adam said, stepping past me and sitting down. Freezer immediately made himself comfortable on his lap, and Adam’s face brightened. ‘He belongs to the neighbours, and they don’t like it.’

  ‘Shame,’ Josh said. ‘And he was being so persuasive, too.’

  He picked up a paper package and carefully unwrapped it, tipping a load of raw prawns out into a bowl. Freezer mewed, jumped down off Adam’s lap and put his paws up against the cabinet door, stretching up as tall as he could get. Adam looked furious.

  ‘What are you making?’ I asked, partly curious and partly desperate to end what looked like turning into an epic cat popularity contest.

  ‘It’s called camarofongo,’ Josh said. ‘Well, kind of. It’s similar to a thing I ate when I was travelling in the Dominican Republic. It’s prawns, plantain, tomatoes and shedloads of garlic and butter. Hope you haven’t got a big date tomorrow.’

  ‘Not much chance of that. Need a hand with anything?’

  ‘Grab yourself a drink – there’s a cold bottle of white in the fridge – and then we can peel these beauties,’ Josh said. ‘I got them at the market down the road. It’s awesome there.’

  ‘What, you mean the wholefoods place? You must have paid about two quid a prawn.’

  ‘Not there, the proper market off the high street. Seems like that’s where the locals shop.’

  Not this local, I thought, impressed. Whenever I’d been through the street market, I’d been too intimidated by the array of exotic vegetables I’d never seen before and had no idea what do with, and too daunted by the eagle-eyed women scrutinising the fresh fish and haggling over the price with the stallholders, to ever buy anything. Clearly Josh was made of sterner stuff.

  I sloshed some chardonnay into a glass – it smelled rich and oaky, far superior to the dodgy red I’d bought – and joined him at the counter, watching as he expertly peeled and beheaded a prawn, sliced it down the back and pulled out a slimy black thread.

  ‘Kind of gross,’ he said, ‘but satisfying too. If you don’t fancy doing this, you could chop some garlic.’

  ‘I’ll help you with those.’ I picked up a prawn and copied him, only considerably less expertly. He was right – it was both gross and satisfying.

  When they were all done, we washed our hands and Josh took another beer from the fridge, passing one to Adam, who was reading something on his phone. Freezer had given up on the idea of persuading us that he was definitely, totally allowed prawns, and had gone to sleep on Adam’s lap.

  ‘I’d offer to help too,’ Adam said. ‘But…’

  ‘Never disturb a sleeping cat,’ Josh finished good-naturedly. ‘A good rule to live by.’

  Adam didn’t say very much after that. He kind of retreated into himself, as he often did, and sat in silence while Josh whirled around the kitchen like something off MasterChef, chopping garlic, sautéing onions, soaking rice and making a salad. Typical Adam, I thought – he wasn’t being deliberately rude, it was just that if he didn’t have anything to say, he said nothing.

  I set the table and drank more wine while we chatted. Well, Josh chatted, mostly. I heard about how he’d been to the Tower of London and St Paul’s and a bunch of museums, had been running every day and gone as far as Little Venice, and how cool it all was.

  His enthusiasm made me remember how I’d felt when I’d first arrived in London: all fired up with excitement, convinced that my life here was going to be brilliant in every way. My career would go from strength to strength. I’d date loads of hot, eligible blokes before meeting the hottest and most eligible of them all. I’d live in a stylish apartment and later in a spacious house with a garden where my children could play and a spare room where Mum could stay when she came to visit.

  Musing on all this, I fell a bit silent, and while we ate our meal, which was lush – spicy, but not too spicy, the prawns sweet and juicy – Josh tried to bring Adam out of his shell by asking him about work, but got mostly one-word answers. I felt bad for him – he’d gone to all this trouble and one of his new housemates was cripplingly shy and the other sunk in gloom.

  So I made myself say, ‘That was amazing, Josh. Aren’t we the lucky ones, getting a housemate who’s an ace cook?’

  Adam smiled reluctantly. ‘Well, I’m certainly not complaining.’

  It wasn’t long before every last prawn, cucumber slice and grain of rice was gone. I cleared the table and stacked the dishwasher, and thought about putting the kettle on, but opened another bottle of wine instead.

  Then we heard the familiar sound of Hannah and Luke’s back door opening, the rattle of cat biscuits in a bowl and Hannah calling Freezer’s name. Like lightning, the cat sprang off Adam’s lap and shot out through the window that we always left open just wide enough for him to get through, no matter how cold it was. We heard the scrabble of his claws on the fence, and Hannah saying, ‘Come on, little one. Dinner time.’

  ‘Quite the routine you’ve got going there,’ Josh said. Then he yawned hugely and said he was going to go up to his room, and wished us good night. Adam stood up too.

  ‘I’ve just opened this.’ I waved the wine bottle. ‘Stay and chat for a bit.’

  ‘Okay.’ Adam sat down again, leaning back on his chair and putting his feet up on the one Josh had vacated, visibly relaxing now that it was just the two of us.

  I filled up our glasses, sipped, waited until I heard the bathroom tap stop running upstairs and Josh’s bedroom door close. Then I found a Spotify playlist of noughties rock, which I knew was Adam’s favourite, and turned the volume up, not so loud it would disturb Josh but loud enough to drown out our conversation.

  ‘Look,’ I said in a rush. ‘I know this is going to sound crazy, but hear me out. You know how you promised to tell me where Renzo was going so that I could show up in the same places as him and see him there?’

  ‘I didn’t just promise,’ Adam objected. ‘I delivered. Seriously good intel, almost every day since January.’

  ‘I know, you’ve been brilliant. I’m really grateful. Only thing is, it hasn’t worked out like I hoped it would.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ I said. ‘It’s like this.’

  And I explained how the wheels had come off in a major way when Renzo had asked Felicity out.

  Adam looked at his hands, then took a gulp of wine. I could see he was concerned, but also on the verge of laughter.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ I said. ‘Come on. I’ve got a broken heart and you’re giggling away like you’re watching Sausage Party.’

  ‘Sorry, Tans,’ he said. ‘I’m not laughing at your broken heart, I promise. It’s just… you know.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘So my genius plan to get him back went tits up. But that means I need a better one, and I think I’ve got one.’

  ‘You’re going to jump into the fountain by Piccadilly Circus and pretend you’re drowning, and he’ll come past on his way to work and rescue you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘You’re going to break into his apartment and take all your clothes off and wait in his bed?’

  ‘Fuck, no!’ My face burned with embarrassment at the thought.

  ‘You’re going to chuck acid in this Felicity woman’s face like that girl who went to prison last summer?’

  ‘No! God, of course not! I’d never do anything like that. I don’t want to hurt Felicity. She’s my mate. Kind of.’

  ‘But you’ve got no problem with trying to take her bloke off her.’

  Adam’s logical mind was back to full function, I noted. I’d preferred it when two and two were making five.

  ‘I don’t want to take her bloke off her, Adam.’

  ‘Then what do you want?’

  ‘I just want… I guess I just want him to realise he made a mistake, and he still loves me.’

  ‘And what happens then? He dumps Felicity and breaks her heart. And then maybe she decides to pull a stunt to get him back herself. I
t could carry on forever, like a game of ping pong.’

  ‘Adam! Hear me out, okay? I’ve got a plan. It’s not a great one, but it’s all I’ve got. It might just work, and if it does, Felicity will find someone else. She’s only been dating Renzo for, like, five minutes.’

  ‘Whereas you were dating him for, like…’

  ‘Six months! That’s half a year. It’s almost one-fiftieth of my whole life. He and I were serious. What we had was really good.’

  ‘Okay, fine,’ Adam said. ‘Tell me this genius plan of yours.’

  ‘It’s pretty simple. If Renzo finds out I’m seeing someone else, he might get jealous and realise he still likes me.’ Now that I’d said the words, I could hear just how stupid the scheme sounded, and I could tell from the look on Adam’s face that he thought so, too.

  ‘It’s not great,’ I admitted. ‘But, like I said, it’s all I’ve got. It’s worth a shot, surely?’

  ‘But you’re not seeing someone else.’

  ‘Well, no. But I kind of told Felicity I was. And if you were to tell Renzo, and if he was to see me and Josh together, he might…’

  ‘Hold on,’ Adam said. ‘You and Josh aren’t a thing, but you want me to tell Renzo you are, and then you’re going to parade Josh around under Renzo’s nose and hope he changes his mind?’

  ‘Kind of. I mean, yes. That. You know how competitive he is. If he thinks another bloke’s got me, he might think, game on, and try to win me back.’

  And then Adam asked the question I’d been dreading. ‘What went wrong with the two of you, anyway? If things were so wonderful, why did he suddenly dump you?’

  I felt the familiar hot rush of shame cover my entire body. Part of me was relieved that at least Renzo hadn’t told Adam himself – but now it meant that I would have to. There was no way I could lie to him, no way of sugar-coating it to make what I’d done seem less tawdry and humiliating.

  So I told him the truth.

  ‘I totally understand if you don’t want to be my friend any more,’ I finished, once I’d blurted out the whole sorry story of Mum’s debt, my financial crisis, turning to webcam work to make ends meet, giving it all up for Renzo and, finally, confessing to him about it.

  Adam listened silently, occasionally taking a sip of wine while I talked.

  At last he said, ‘But Tans, that’s awful.’

  ‘I know. I feel absolutely sick remembering it. What was I even thinking?’

  ‘Not that! Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, it’s horrible that such an industry even exists, that there are men out there who think they’ve got a relationship with some random woman on the internet who’s desperate for cash. It’s fucking grim. But Renzo, reacting that way – ugh.’

  He literally shuddered.

  ‘But he – it was a shock,’ I protested. ‘He’d just told me he loved me. And then he found out I wasn’t the person he thought I was.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Adam said. ‘I’m sorry, but that’s just stupid. So you have a past. Doesn’t everyone? It’s not like he’s some kind of Trappist monk, is he, swanning off to strip bars all the time to perv over pole dancers?’

  ‘That’s different. I was his girlfriend.’

  ‘Yeah, so the guy’s got some ridiculous Madonna or whore dichotomy going on in his head. I mean, seriously. That’s the most unreconstructed, offensive thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a few since I started working in that place.’

  It had never occurred to me before that Adam disliked Renzo, or felt uncomfortable with the brash, macho culture I knew was the norm in his workplace. Now I realised how difficult it must be for him to keep his head down and ignore some of his colleagues’ attitudes. He wasn’t keeping quiet now, though.

  ‘If I were you, Tansy, I wouldn’t touch that man with someone else’s ten-foot bargepole,’ he ranted on. ‘God. What are you thinking? Where’s your self-respect? He’s shown you who he is – believe him. How can you even entertain the idea of going out with him again? You’ve had a lucky escape! And now you’re going to go chasing after him and try to get him back? Are you completely nuts?’

  I’d never heard Adam talk so passionately before. It was bizarre – as if Freezer had sat up and started lecturing me about my love life.

  How dare he, I thought. Who did he think he was, telling me that the man I was in love with was a horrible person and I was stupid to want a relationship with him? He was bang out of order, and I was going to tell him so just as soon as I could find the words. And figure out what on earth ‘unreconstructed’ meant.

  Then I paused. I didn’t want to fall out with Adam – and not just because the loss of our friendship would leave a massive hole in both our lives. As I’d said earlier, this plan was the only one I had. It might be shit, but I had to try it. And to do that, I had to persuade Adam to help me. I only had one weapon and, damn it, I was going to use it.

  I poured the last of the wine into our glasses.

  ‘Adam, you know when I walked in the front door earlier. You looked like something terrible was happening. Like you’d seen a ghost, or the kitchen was on fire, or something.’

  Adam said, ‘But he…’

  ‘Josh was cuddling Freezer. And singing to him. Freezer’s a cat, Adam, come on. You might not be Renzo’s number one fan, but at least he doesn’t murder small furry animals for shits and giggles and sleep with anyone who scratches him behind the ears. Freezer does, but you still love him, right? You’d love him whatever he did. Maybe even if he suddenly decided he liked Josh more than he likes you.’

  Adam winced.

  ‘I know. That’s how I feel. I understand you think you’ve got my best interests at heart and I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re my friend. But I’m a big girl, and I can make my own decisions about what’s right for me. And what’s right for me is Renzo.’

  Adam shook his head and scowled, so I changed tack.

  ‘Just think about it for a second. If Josh is out with me, then he’s not going to be here, sneaking prawns to Freezer and letting him sleep in his bed and maybe even throwing bits of scrunched-up tinfoil for him to chase. Is he?’

  Adam shook his head again, but he wasn’t scowling any more. It was time to play my final card – the one I didn’t feel bad about playing, because I meant it absolutely sincerely.

  ‘If you don’t want to say anything to Renzo, that’s fine,’ I said. ‘Honestly, it is. I respect your decision. You don’t have to look at his diary any more, or tell him anything about me. It won’t change anything between us, it really won’t. I care about you too much for that. We’ll still be mates, whatever happens.’

  Adam was still shaking his head. If he doesn’t stop doing that soon it’s going to work loose off his neck and go flying across the room and one of computing’s finest minds will be lost forever, I thought. But fortunately, he paused, then rolled his eyes again and nodded.

  ‘Sheesh, Tans. Okay, I’ll do it.’

  Fourteen

  I woke up the next day with a thumping headache and a foul taste in my mouth that was partly down to the huge amount of garlic Josh had used in our food, but mostly down to the copious amount of wine me and Adam – to be fair, it had mostly been me – had drunk. Fortunately, because it wasn’t like me to think so far ahead, I’d remembered to put a pint glass of water by my bed before I fell asleep. Congratulating myself on my boy-scout-worthy levels of preparation, I reached across for it. In my hung-over, half-asleep state, I thought it would be possible to drink some without actually sitting up. It wasn’t, of course.

  I tipped the whole lot over my pillow, my duvet and, mostly, my head.

  ‘Shit! Fucksake!’ I sat up, wide awake, dripping like I’d been for a swim. The bed was soaked. There was no question of necking a couple of paracetamol and going back to sleep now – not until I’d changed the sheets and rotated the mattress so I had a dry bit to lie on, anyway. And if basically waterboarding myself hadn’t finished me off completely, moving a mattress would, the way I was
feeling.

  Reluctantly, I got up and walked, dripping, through to the bathroom with my empty glass. While I brushed my teeth, I remembered the details of my conversation with Adam the previous night. Could I pretend to Renzo that Josh was my boyfriend? What had seemed like a stroke of genius after a bottle of wine appeared completely ridiculous in the cold light of day.

  Or did it? I turned the idea over in my mind. But the more I thought about it, the more problems I could see with it. If Renzo were to be made jealous of my new relationship, and his macho pride sparked into action, he’d have to see me and Josh together. And that would mean more trips to Annabel’s and Nobu and God knew where else, which I couldn’t afford and, as far as I could tell, nor could Josh. Not that I’d let him pay, of course, even if he could.

  Where else can I see Renzo? I wondered. Where does he go that doesn’t involve spaffing hundred of pounds away on cocktails and food? He went to work, obviously, but I couldn’t think of anyone less qualified than me to seek employment at a Mayfair hedge fund. He went to the gym, but that was at work and for staff use only. He sometimes took clients to Gaslight, the so-called gentlemen’s club where the evening’s entertainment consisted of knocking back bottles of overpriced vodka while watching beautiful Eastern European pole dancers get their kit off.

  I could try and get a job there, I thought, and for a split second it seemed like a brilliant solution. I couldn’t dance, but even though I’d never been to a strip club, I suspected that you didn’t exactly have to be the next Darcey Bussell to qualify. But then I remembered how Renzo had reacted when I told him about my webcam work. If that was a dumping offence, then gyrating in my smalls without even a broadband connection between me and the watching eyes would be a total deal-breaker.

  For a second, I allowed myself to think about the inherent hypocrisy of Renzo’s position on this, but I brushed the thought aside. Gaslight was work; his girlfriend was his personal life. He had different standards about the two things, and that was just how it was. But becoming an exotic dancer in my spare time was a non-starter.