The Debt & the Doormat (20 page)

‘Yes, yes.  OK bye, love you.’  I hang up.  Shit.  Why did I say love you?  I’m so used to saying it to Jazz.

‘Darling, you didn’t tell me you were at the stage where you’ve told each other you love one another?’

‘Oh...didn’t I?’

Shit shit shit.

‘No!  I’m pretty sure I’d remember that darling.  My little girls in love,’ she beams, her eyes crazy wide.

‘Anyway, he can't meet.’  I pull a disappointed face.  ‘He says he’s very sorry but he’s got loads on and simply can't leave the office.’

‘Oh, what a shame.  Well, I’ll tell you what.  If he can't leave the office then we’ll go to him.’

‘What?’

‘Yes.  We’ll give him a little picnic.  Come on, we’ll go to Marks and Spencer’s.’  She grabs hold of my arm and starts pulling me along.

‘No, you don't understand.  He’s very busy.  He won't have time,’ I try and protest.

‘Well, he’ll have time to see us for two seconds won't he?’

‘No!  You don't understand.  He’s very important and can't be interrupted.’

Before I know it I’m leaving Marks and Spencer’s with a full picnic and Mum’s talking about when he might propose.  How the hell do I get myself in these situations!

‘Right.  Which building does he work at?’

‘Um.  I can't remember,’ I say playing for time.  There has to be a way to get her to drop this.

‘What was the name of the bank where he works again?’ she asks.

‘Um...I can't remember that either.’

‘Jesus darling!  How can you forget this kind of stuff?  Wait a minute.’  She starts rubbing her forehead.  ‘Barclays!  That's it, I remember.’

How can she remember that!  How can she remember my false story?

‘Ok, but we still don't know where his office is.  Why don't we just go for a nice picnic, just us?’

‘Don't be ridiculous.  We’ve bought far too much food for just us.  I’m not supposed to be eating half this stuff anyway.  Auntie Beryl would go mad at me if she found out.’

‘Ok, but – ‘

‘Excuse me.’  She grabs a stranger’s arm.  ‘Do you know where Barclays head office is?’

‘Oh yes.  It's two streets away.’

Two streets?  Why couldn’t it be the other side of London?  The whole of fucking London and its two streets away. 

‘Great thanks.’  She turns back to me, seeming very pleased with herself.  ‘See darling!  If you use your initiative you can do anything.’

As we begin walking down the street I start to sweat.  What the hell am I going to do?  I can't hold her back.  Dear God, wild boars couldn’t hold her back!  And what am I going to do when she asks for Ryan and they tell her he doesn’t work there.  She’ll have me committed.   

Just think!  Oh my God, I’ve got it!  I’ll go along with this and when they say he doesn’t work there I can act all dramatic and cry and say that he lied to me.  That it's over.  Perfect.  I can stop this whole charade before it gets out of hand.

As she pulls me into the building I’m feeling better about the whole situation.  It’ll be over in two minutes.

‘Excuse me,’ she says, dragging me to the reception desk.  ‘Could you please call Ryan and tell him that we’re here to see him.’

‘Sorry...Ryan...?  What's his surname?’ the receptionist asks, looking Mum up and down in alarm.

Trust my mother to think that only one Ryan works here.

‘Poppy, what's his surname?’

‘Um...it’s...Smith.’  I start psyching myself up for the tears.

‘And your names are?’

‘My daughter is Poppy Windsor and I’m – ‘

‘Sorry,’ I interrupt.  ‘But are you telling me that there is a Ryan Smith?’

‘Yes.’  She looks at me strangely.

‘Don't interrupt me Poppy, it's very rude,’ Mum snaps.  ‘I’m Meryl Windsor, her mother.’

‘Ok, I’ll just ring up.’

Oh my God.  Oh my fucking God.  What the hell am I going to do now?  I need to get her out of here.

‘Mum, I feel sick.  Let’s go and we’ll get him another time.’

‘Don't be silly.  She’s called up for him now.’  She shakes her head at me, annoyed.

I watch the receptionist on the phone, talking away.  He’s probably saying ‘who the hell are these people?’

‘Yes but...I think I...may have come on my period.  I need to get a change of clothes.’

‘A change of clothes darling?  How heavy could you be?’  She starts staring at my crotch.  ‘I don't see anything.’

‘Very heavy.  Come on, we need to go.’ I grab her arm. 

‘Auntie Beryl used to be the same.  Used to go through everything she wore.  I couldn’t lend her anything.  She ruined two of my favourite white trousers.  Had to have her womb microwaved in the end.’

‘Sorry, but Ryan’s not expecting you,’ the receptionist says, holding a hand over her receiver.

‘Oh, he won't be darling.  It's a surprise.’  She looks back at me excited.  ‘Where was I anyway?  Yes, she had to get her womb microwaved.  Terrible business.’

‘He’s coming down now,’ the receptionist says, still suspicious.

Oh my God.  Oh my God.  I need to get out of here.

‘Mum, we need to go!  Now!’ I scream.  I’m sweating.  My neck is hot. 

‘He’s your boyfriend Poppy.  You’re already telling each other you’re in love.  I’m sure he’s not going to be bothered by a bit of blood.’

‘But he will!  You don't know him.  He’s...he’s allergic to blood,’ I stammer, my insides churning.  How could I have got myself in this mess!

‘Allergic to blood?  What the hell are you talking about Poppy?’

I look up as the lift pings and a man in his late forties walks out looking around.  Oh my God, that must be him.  What the fuck?  What the fuck!

There’s only one option left.  I pretend to pass out. 

I try to relax my eyes as I lay on the floor with them shut.  Mum is fussing over me.

‘Oh my God!  Poppy!  Someone call an ambulance!’ she shouts.

‘Is she ok?’ a male voice asks.  Obviously Ryan Smith. 

‘I don't know,’ Mum says.  ‘She was fine a minute ago.  I don't hear anyone calling that ambulance!’

‘It's on its way,’ the receptionist shouts.

Oh my God.  An ambulance is coming.  This is fraud.  I can't do this.  What if the ambulance doesn’t go to an old man having a heart attack because it was busy coming for me and he died?  I’d never be able to live with myself.

I open my eyes and take a deep breath.

‘Poppy darling!  She’s alive!’ Mum cheers.

I sit up and shake my head. 

‘That was strange.  But I feel fine now.  Come on Mum, let’s go home.  If you could please cancel the ambulance,’ I say to the receptionist clutching my head dramatically.

‘Don't be ridiculous!  You still need an ambulance.  Normal healthy people don't just pass out, do they Ryan?’  She turns expectantly to him.

‘Um...how do you know my name?’ he asks looking at her as if she’s mad.  ‘Have I scheduled a meeting with you?’

‘I’m Poppy’s mum.’  She gestures at me.

‘Mum I need to go now.  Sorry Ryan.’  I quickly try to drag her out with all of the strength left in my body.

She resists but I still run out of the office and breathe in the fresh air.  I hear Mum’s footsteps running out after me.  How the hell am I going to explain this one?

‘Poppy darling, why are you running away from Ryan?  And why did he just ask me who you were?’

I look into her face and instead of suspicion I see genuine concern.  Oh God, now I really feel terrible.  I should just tell the truth.  She deserves that.

‘He’s...got amnesia,’ I say before I can stop myself.  I stare at her, waiting for her to tell me I’m ridiculous and realise I’m lying.  I watch her face as she seems to consider this.

‘Amnesia?  What happened to him?’ she asks intrigued, as if it were her daily soap instead of my life.

‘Um...he fell down the stairs,’ I say quickly, avoiding her suspicious gaze.

‘Oh what a poor love!’

Why the hell is she believing this crap?  It's almost as if she’s so desperate for me to have a boyfriend – any boyfriend – that she’s willing to ignore rationality.

‘So he doesn’t remember anything?’

‘No.  Not a thing.’  I frown, pretending to be upset.

‘Oh, don't worry darling, I’m sure he’ll remember.  But I still think you should see a doctor.  You can't just faint and then forget about it.  Unless...’ she trails off, her mouth gaping open and her eyes widening.  ‘Oh my Jesus.  I can't believe I didn’t realise immediately.  You’re pregnant!   My baby’s pregnant!’  She wraps her arms around me and starts rocking from side to side.

Oh my God. 

‘No!  Mum, I’m not pregnant!’

But it's as if she hasn’t heard me.  Already planning the nursery in her head.

‘Of course!  I fainted during all four pregnancies.  You obviously get that from me.  But don't worry darling, we’re going to get through this together.  Ryan will remember soon and then we’ll all be a happy family.’  She stares at my stomach excitedly.

‘No.  You don't understand,’ I protest. 

‘I thought you’d put on a bit of weight.’  She pats my stomach.

‘Mum!  Listen to me!  I am NOT pregnant!’

‘Ok darling.’  She winks at me.  ‘I get it.  You don't want to tell anyone until after the twelve week scan.  Totally understandable.’

‘Listen to me.’  I grab her face with both my hands and speak extra slow.  ‘I.  Am.  Not.  Pregnant.’

She looks at me, still in my hands and smiles.

‘There really is no need to be embarrassed darling.  Plenty of people have children out of wedlock these days.  But we can get you married in an instant.’  She takes a notebook out of her bag.  ‘We’ll have to get you married as soon as possible.  I’ll call Father Trevor and – ‘

‘We’re not getting married!’

‘Not this second darling, but soon he’ll get his memory back.’

‘No!  I...I don't want to marry him!  I might actually dump him.’

Yes that's a good way to get out of this.

‘Dump him?  But why would you do that darling?  He needs you now more than ever.’

‘Well...’ I rack my brain trying to think.  ‘Don't you think he’s a bit old for me?’  I remember his appearance.  He was easily late forties, if not early fifties. 

‘Age is just a number darling.’

‘Well I’m afraid that I’ve made my decision,’ I say firmly.  ‘You can tell everyone that it's over.’

‘But he’s not that old sweetheart and you
are
carrying his baby.’

‘Yes he is Mum!’ I say losing my temper.  ‘He’s an old man with a wrinkly cock!’ 

Oh my God.  Why the fuck did I say that?

‘Oh!’ she says, seeming taken back.  ‘Well...I understand.’

Is she talking about my Dad’s penis?  Please God, don't say she is.  Block out the thoughts of your Dad’s penis!  Throw yourself off a bridge if you have to! 

‘Thank you for understanding.  I have to go.’

And then I run.

I can't stop thinking about Annabel and what a poisonous witch she is.  It’s helping me get over the shock of yesterday.  Anything to block that out.  I couldn’t even confide in Lily when I got back to the office, as I’m too embarrassed to admit I have an imaginary boyfriend.  That and she was busy showing me pictures of the flat she’s buying that only I know she can’t afford.  That and I haven’t had a chance to interrogate Ryan on his feelings for Tabitha.  Big Tits Tabitha.   

How could she do this to Richard?  How can she be feeding him some line about trying for a baby while all the time shagging someone else?  I’ve come to the conclusion that I must have been wrong.  I just
must
be.  It was a very trying day and I was probably exhausted.  My brain showed me some kind of old image of Annabel.  I’d probably see her again and laugh at how unlike Annabel she is.  She’ll probably have bright blonde hair and a broken leg and I’ll say ‘my God, how could I have been so wrong!?’ 

I hope.  But just in case, I’ve decided to do some investigating.  Richard says that she does her ‘writing course’ on a Thursday night so here I am.  I’m waiting in my car outside their house.  I’ve parked a bit down the road and am waiting eagerly for her to come out.  She runs out, banging the door enthusiastically and heads for her blue Ford Fiesta. 

I start my engine up and creep slowly behind her.  We head towards St Albans road and turn at Emerald Corner.  This is actually the way to the college.  Thank God, I was wrong.  She is actually doing a course.  Of course she is.  But at the turning of the college car park, instead of pulling in she carries on straight.  My stomach drops.  I follow her, considering where else she could be going.  She could be surprising Richard with a big present or something and she has to go miles away to get it.  Yes, it's probably that.  I follow her down quite a few muddy country roads and pass a sign stating Harpenden. 

Within a few minutes we’re on Harpenden high street.  She pulls effortlessly into a parking space as I struggle to Parallel Park a little down the road.  She puts on some fresh lipstick and jumps out, an excited smile on her face.  She flicks her hair behind her shoulders and heads across the road into a bar.

I get out nervously, glad I came prepared.  I pull out a red baseball hat, which perfectly matches my red t-shirt, and stick it on over my pony tail.  I pull on a pair of sunglasses and grab my clipboard.  I shuffle over to the other side of the road, making sure she’s in clear sight of me.  She’ll never notice me.  She’ll just think I’m one of those annoying people asking you to sign petitions or asking you to complete a survey. 

A few minutes later I watch as Cheryl’s husband appears inside and they embrace each other tightly.  Anyone that didn’t know better might think that this was a good friend, but only I know their sordid little secret.  They get some drinks and start talking intensely, leaning in closely.  She looks worried and he holds her hand reassuringly.

What on earth could they be talking about?

‘Excuse me miss.’

I’m thrown out of my concentration, turning around to see an elderly man with big milk bottle glasses smiling at me.

‘I’d be willing to sign your petition, dear.’

‘My petition?’  I follow his eyes down to my clipboard.   ‘I mean, my petition!  Yes, of course!’

I thrust the clipboard into his hands, realising that the piece of paper on it only contains my doodles of flowers and butterflies. 

‘And what is this petition for?’ he asks narrowing his eyes at me. 

Oh crap, I knew I should have given myself a back story, but it just took so long to get my pony tail in the right position so that I could wear the hat properly.

‘Um...it’s for....the tortoise hospital.’

Tortoise hospital?  What the fuck is wrong with me?  I feel myself redden and I quickly look away.  Maybe I should just kick him and run as fast as I can.  He looks like he’d go down pretty easy.

‘Tortoise hospital?’ he asks, smiling to himself, as if considering whether this is a joke.

Oh crap, this old man isn’t as stupid as I first thought.  I’ve got no choice, I have to just go with it. 

‘Oh yes.’  I put on my most convincing tone.  ‘People forget about tortoises.  It’s all about cats and dogs, but tortoises need help too.’  I smile as confidently as possible.   Surely this is so ridiculous he has to believe it.  Either that or he’ll call the police. 

‘Oh right,’ he says, staring at me strangely.  ‘And what's the name of this tortoise hospital?’

Seriously old man, don't you have anything else to do?  Don't you have some Deal or No Deal to be catching up on?  Some teenagers to tut at?  Some slow walking to do? 

‘It's called....Tortoise Safety.  Yes, Tortoise Safety.  But like I’ve said, you probably haven’t heard of it.’

‘Oh, I think I have!’ he smiles.  ‘Is Vanessa still working on reception?  Good old Van.’  He smiles affectionately. 

‘Um....I’m not sure.’

I glance over at the bar and to my horror they’ve gone.  I look towards her car but it's still there.  Where the hell have they gone? 

‘Well, when you see her, will you tell her that Betsy is terribly unwell,’ he says, a sad expression on his face. 

‘Betsy?’

‘My terrapin,’ he nods.

What the hell is going on here? 

‘Yes, I’ll tell her.’  I grab the clipboard from him, eager to get away, but he clasps his hands round mine.

‘You won't forget now will you dear?’  His big green eyes stare up at me with serious hope.

‘Of course not.  Betsy, the terrapin, gotcha.’

I throw his hands off me and start running, but she’s nowhere to be seen.  I run further down the high street wondering if they’ve found a little hotel to have their rendezvous at.  Maybe they meet up so regularly that they’ve gone as far as to rent a small studio and it's filled with paintings full of their naked bodies.

But then I see them.  Kissing each other goodbye, as if it's the last time they’re ever going to see each other.  I feel a stab in my chest, my heart.  How could she be doing this to Richard?  He loves her so much, but she doesn’t love him.  It's pretty clear that she is madly, deeply and unconditionally in love with Cheryl’s husband. 

He walks away and blows her a kiss while I try to catch my breath.  What a whore.  She opens the glass door of the offices and goes in.  I watch her with contempt.  It's only after a few minutes that I realise she’s just gone into a divorce lawyers. 

*
                            *                            *

When I get back to the flat it's 7.30pm and I’m starving.    I go into the sitting room to find all of my furniture re-arranged.  The fact that it actually looks better is irrelevant.  I still shoot Jazz an irritated look.

‘Hey Chick, you OK?’ she smiles, completely ignoring my annoyance.

‘Yeah, but I’m starving,’ I moan as I throw myself on the sofa. 

‘Me too!  What are you gonna make us?’

‘Why does it always have to be me?’ I complain,  but the truth is that I secretly love it. 

I walk into the kitchen, Jazz following, and start inspecting the fridge contents.  We’ve only got a few eggs and peppers.

‘Omelette it is then,’ I say under my breath.  ‘What time are we supposed to be going to Nobo?  It’s late now.’

God, I hope she changes her mind.

‘Oh yeah, did you make a friend?’

‘Sort of, but I doubt she’ll be meeting us there.’

‘Thank God!’ she exclaims.  ‘I don’t fancy it.  This working full time shit is hard work.’

‘Thank God.  Anyway Jazz, I kind of need a favour,’ I say carefully.

‘Really?  What?’ she asks, her small grey eyes lighting up in excitement. 

‘It's kind of a long story but...can you pretend you want to buy a flat and put a fake offer in?’

She stares back at me completely puzzled.  ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

Because I want to make it so that Lilly can't buy the flat so she won't be in complete financial ruin.

‘Like I said, I can't tell you.  Can you do it?’

‘Yeah, suppose,’ she says, already losing interest in the conversation.

That's my girl.

The front door slams, making us both jump.  We freeze and stare at each other as men’s footsteps come closer and closer.

‘Hey Po Po,’ Ollie sings, sticking his head round the door.  ‘Ooh, omelette.  Go on then!’

I mutter under my breath, but crack another few eggs.

‘How did you even get in?  I thought I took your key away from you?’

‘Yeah,’ he smiles.  ‘I had another one cut.’

‘Well that might have been OK when it was just me, but Jazz is here at the moment.  You can't just walk in unannounced.  She could be naked!’

They both go red and smile at each other. 

‘Yeah, that kind of happened the other day,’ Ollie explains, smiling cheekily at Jazz.

‘Oh my God, Ollie!’ I shout, hitting him with my spatula.  ‘I’m so sorry Jazz.’

‘Don't worry,’ she smiles, putting her hand on her hip and sticking her chest out proudly.  ‘I’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.’

‘You’re right there,’ Ollie says, shamelessly checking her out. 

‘Ollie!’ I shout, horrified. 

What the hell is going on with them?

‘Anyway,’ Ollie says, turning to Jazz, ‘I wondered if you wanted to come to Leicester with me.’  He looks down a little sheepishly.  ‘You know, just so I don't have to go alone.’

‘Oh,’ Jazz says, seeming taken aback.  ‘Yeah....cool.  When?’

‘Wednesday.  I’ll text you about it.’  He looks at me as if my being here is terribly inconvenient. 

I grab the tweezers and start attacking him playfully with them.

‘I know you just want her there so you can bang her!’ I say as I attack him.

‘Shut up,’ he says, shoving me so hard I fall into the cupboard.  Shit, my elbow! 

What is going on with these two?  Why has Jazz even agreed to go along?  I thought she was happy with Jake.  I really hope she doesn’t ruin it because of Ollie.  Of all people my dumbass brother Ollie.

‘So anyway,’ Jazz says, turning to me, her cheeks unusually flushed.  ‘How did the spying go?’

I dig her in the ribs, having not told Ollie about my little adventure.   I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.  He looks back at me accusingly, instantly knowing that I’m keeping a secret. 

‘Ok!’ I shout, throwing my hands up in defence.  ‘I’ve got something to tell you about Annabel, but you have to promise not to tell Richard....or anyone for that matter.’

‘Yeah,’ he smiles, leaning eagerly in like an old lady leaning over the fence for the morning gossip.

‘She’s....well, she’s....’  I lower my voice to a whisper.  ‘Having an affair.’

‘Why the hell are you whispering?’ Jazz shouts. 

Ollie leans back against the worktop and purses his lips together. 

‘I thought as much,’ he muses to himself.

‘What?  You thought as much?  Why didn’t you fucking say?’

‘Dunno,’ he shrugs.  ‘Just a few things Richard mentioned.  Well, a few things he’d said to Henry.  You know how those two are close.’

I nod knowingly.  Those two have always been thick as thieves.  It's like Richard almost resents me and Ollie for being the youngest.  Feels we got more than he did, which is ridiculous.  Ollie and I were in the smaller room in bunk beds until we were eleven and thirteen, when Dad built the loft extension.   

‘So what did he say?’

‘Just a few things,’ Ollie shrugs.  ‘That she’s been really distant lately and that's why he suggested they try for a baby.  He thinks she’s just a bit bored and wants to feel more involved.  That's why he’s signing her onto the business too.’

‘Business?  What are you talking about?’

‘Yeah, she’s going to become a partner.’

He has to be joking.  She’s expecting to become a partner in my Dad’s business, the business that he spent years building up. 

My Dad owns a very small building company called Windsor & Sons which he started up when he was just twenty two and penniless.  The story goes that he’d started labouring at sixteen and had worked for the same slave-driver of a boss for years.  He was desperate to start out on his own and be his own boss, but never had the guts or the money behind him.  When he married my Mum and she quickly became pregnant with Richard he realised money was going to be tight.  He asked for time off to go with her to the first baby scan, and when his boss refused he says he saw red.  He couldn’t bear the thought of missing out on his first child’s scan and told him where to stick his job.  It was only when they were living off baked beans in their bedsit later that night that he realised what a giant mistake he’d made.  He pleaded with the boss to take him back, but he refused. 

He took a part time job in McDonalds and said he honestly didn’t know how he was going to afford to raise a child.  But one night he received a letter telling him that his father, who he’d never known, had died and could he call them to find out what he had inherited.  He only expected to inherit debt, so delayed calling for a while.  When he eventually got round to calling them they explained that he’d inherited two grand!  Two grand to him might as well have been a million.  He used the money to set himself up with tools and equipment and the rest is history.  He now employs ten men, plus Richard.  Ollie occasionally works for him, when he can be bothered to get off his back side.