No Ordinary Bloke (35 page)

“You’re not my client yet.” He sat straighter in his seat. “You’ve repeatedly insulted me, and I’m not sure I want to take you on. I don’t think you really want to do any of the work necessary to deal with your issues. It’s much easier to just be a jerk and fight than to figure out why you’re an arsehole and change.”

“Who said I don’t want to do the work?” I also sat up in the chair. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk to a tosspot shrink like you.”

He took on an angry glare and pointed his finger at me. “I’m not a fucking tosser, and if you want to fight over that, let’s go.”

I laughed, incredulous that a psychologist was challenging me to a fight. It all seemed ridiculous, so I offered an excuse. “You called me an arsehole. I think I can call you a tosser.”

“You
are
an arsehole.”

“Then you’re a tosser.”

“I told you. I am not a fucking tosser.”

“Well, you’re certainly an arsehole.”

He slowly cracked a smile. “I’ll give you that.” Leaning back in his seat, he tapped his pen on his chair. “But at least I’ve worked on my shit. What happened that made you decide to see a psychologist? What was so pivotal?”

There it was—the question whose answer gave everything away. I stared down the bloke. He was a prat to be sure, but wasn’t this why I’d kept that number in my drawer? Rubbing my neck, I looked outside again and said, “Me girlfriend broke up with me.”

“You’re not so young. I’m sure you’ve had girlfriends in the past. Was this one special?”

“Yes.” My eyes remained steady on St. Paul’s. It was safer that way.

“Like no other?”

“Like no other.” I smirked. “And there’ve been a lot of others.”

“Losing someone like that would be pivotal,” he said with some sympathy in his voice. “Did you hurt her physically?”

“Fuck no.” My head spun back to look him in the eye. “I’d never hit a woman. Never hurt her. Not ever.”

“Ah ha…” I nodded. “Maybe you saw a bit of that growing up?”

“Some.” I averted my eyes and exhaled. “A lot.”

“That would make me angry as well. Make me want to hit some of them, even if I was getting a bit old to get into a brawl. Sort of sad to see an old man fight.”

I snorted. “You seemed ready for a fight yourself, and you’re closer to being an old man than me.”

“We all have our issues.” He smiled and stood up. Extending his hand he said, “I’d be happy to help you with yours.”

“Thanks.” I shook his hand and returned the smile. I had to admit. I sort of liked the arsehole. “But how am I going to afford two hundred quid a week?”

“Oh, sod off, Mr. Vice President at Barclays. Unless you tell me you’re supporting an orphanage full of your offspring from your wild lad days, I think you can spare two hundred quid.”

F
ive months and four thousand quid later, Dr. Green said I’d really progressed. During those months, I’d sat on his damn sofa and spilled my heart out. The emotions came in fits and starts at first and then it was a deluge. Yes, I reached for those damn tissues by his sofa more than once. After fighting the bloody demons of my childhood, I still wasn’t as mentally together as Allison. Unlike her, I hadn’t forgiven my father, but Dr. Green said that might take until my deathbed. Instead, we worked on how I could move on as an adult without fighting all those damn demons every fucking day.

The key thing I learned was to take a timeout and be rational. I had to ask and answer simple questions. Was something really worth a physical fight? Was it worth ruining my day, month, or as I now knew, my life? Was there a less confrontational reaction that would get me another result?

Throughout the sessions, Dr. Green would occasionally ask about Allison. It was never obtrusive, just a question here and there. As I started to get my crap together, though, his questions intensified. Until finally one day he asked, “Why don’t you reach out to her?”

“Dunno,” I said, as I began to fiddle with my shoelace.

“You’re scared that she’s going to reject you again even after you’ve worked so hard on yourself.”

“Maybe…” I frowned at his hitting the nail on the head.

“So she rejects you. Do you know what happens then?”

“Other than being a pathetic fool?”

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “If you had the balls to contact her, regardless of the outcome, I would never say you were a pathetic fool. Back to my question. Do you know what happens the next day if she rejects you?”

“No, but you seem to,” I muttered.

“The sun rises the next day. The birds will sing. Life will go on. That’s what happens. You move on because she wasn’t the one for you.”

Now I crossed my own arms, considering what he’d said. It was how I’d always lived my life before getting entangled with Allison. I shrugged. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Oh, I know it will be tough. You’ll be anxious. I promise you she’s going to be scared as hell herself, but you need to do something. It’s time for you to move on.”

“I don’t know…”

“Besides.” He smiled. “You need a shag.”

I laughed. “You’re Goddamn right about that. It’s been quite a dry spell.”

“Do you think she’s seeing someone else?”

“Dunno.” I grimaced. “Don’t like to think about that.”

But I did think about it—all the fucking time. It was one of the reasons I was so paralyzed. What if it had been a one-sided relationship and all in my head?

A few days later, I sat on the tube going home, and I got a text from Angus.

Why the fuck are you never in NYC anymore? Call me, you bastard.

I snickered so loud the old lady next to me gave me a dirty look. I’d given everything to do with New York over to Declan, and now I concentrated solely on emerging markets. My travel schedule sucked, but the higher risk in my work meant higher reward for my paycheck and it kept me out of New York. I typed back to him.

Because I’m all over the fucking world. When are you in London next so I can buy you a pint? Or come with me to Kyoto so I can get you a geisha.

I had an odd feeling so I looked again to my right. The old lady was reading over my shoulder. It was my turn to give her a dirty look. When I glanced down again, Angus had replied.

Any time! I love Asian girls. Are you still pining for that bird? If so, call me. It’s important.

Early on after Allison and I broke up, Angus and I talked. He’d said he’d keep an eye out on her for me, but I never thought much of it. What on earth could Angus have for me that was important about Allison? When I exited the station, I rang Angus as I walked home. “How are you, mate?” I asked.

“Good. Where you been?”

“Busy. I don’t have much work in New York anymore.” I ran my hand through my hair and cut to the chase. “Have you seen Allison?”

“I did. For the first time in about nine months, and she was here with Trey.”

“What?!” My heart began to race. It was my worst fear. “Are they dating?”

“Dunno. I don’t think so right now, but he’s making the moves on her again. After I sat them down, I took their drink orders. He tried to get her to have a glass of wine with him, but she said no. She stuck with water.

“That’s good, I suppose,” I said, trying to find some silver lining in what was proving to be a bloody dark story.

“But when they walked out, he was all over her—helping her with her coat, touching her back to move her along, whispering in her ear—that sort of thing. Then I watched as he took the chef aside for a moment, and I heard them planning a dinner at his house for this weekend. I distinctly heard Trey call it a reunion dinner for two.”

“Do you think it’s for Allison?” I said feeling a wave of nausea hit me.

“I do. But get this. Guess who he’s still screwing?”

“Melanie?” Of course, Trey, the fucking embodiment of hubris, wouldn’t quit Melanie even if he was trying to get Allison back.

“Yup. Like clockwork. Every Tuesday and Thursday, she comes by and picks up his dinner.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure whether or not to tell you any of this, but I don’t know, mate…I thought you might want to know regardless of what happened between you two. She’s a nice girl. I always liked her. Too bad if she ends up with him.” His voice brightened. “So who
are
you banging these days?”

I shook my head.
My hand…
Instead I said, “I’m too busy.”

“Bullshit. You’re still pining for Allison.”

“Well…”

“Get in there, mate. Do something. Don’t just let him get the girl. I’ll lose all faith in humanity if a girl like Allison ends up with a dobber like Trey.”

Later that evening, I sat on my sofa watching bad TV and wondering what I should do. Surely, she wasn’t getting back with that arse, but what if she was? Eventually, she would have to find out about Melanie. Some affairs could be hidden, but scandalous ones usually came out. All those politicians were evidence of that. I thought about what it might be like for her, and I realized that I cared more that she would be hurt than the fact that she might be single again one day. Now that was a confusing thought.

I needed to check-in with my touchstone. Adam and I hadn’t talked about Allison since our first few conversations, but I felt like a decision had to be made and quickly. I already knew what Dr. Green would say. How would Adam react? Knowing Adam, he might tell me to forget about the girl because she’d caused me enough pain already. What else might he say though?

So I rang him up. When he answered the phone, he was cheery. “Just the man I want to talk to. I was going to ring you as soon as Veronica went down for the night. I have big news. What’s going on with you?”

“I have a question for you.” I rolled my eyes at how I’d just minimized months of emotional struggle. “First, tell me your news.”

“You’re going to be an uncle again.” His voice oozed pride.

“Nicki’s pregnant?” My heart leapt for them.

“She is. Not far along at all. A little over six weeks. We’re not telling anyone else right now, but I had to tell you and our mums.”

“That’s fantastic. I’m so happy for you.” And I was overjoyed for him, but there was a sneaking twinge of pain in my core. I recognized the lousy feeling for what it unfortunately was—pure jealousy. I tried to make up for it. “You know I love being an uncle.”