The Hating Game (32 page)

A stomach pump? Mattie finished in her head. Judging by the look on Adam’s face, he’d need one any second now.

‘
A romantic massage lesson for two! We’ve laid on a therapist back at the caravan to teach you two how to make the other feel g
oo-od!’ Baz drawled.

‘
Oh, gross. No
way
am I doing that! Forget it.’ The words slipped out before Mattie could stop them, and she swung her eyes over to Adam. His face twisted with fury and he looked like he wanted to dismember her. Shuddering, she clamped her mouth closed. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the thought of Adam’s robo-mitts on her was just vile.

‘
Right, that’s it here. Let’s get packed up
and move to the caravan,’ Baz said. ‘Ram, you can stop filming now.’

Ram grunted. He was already packing up the camera in the corner of the room.

Adam pushed back his chair
and gripped his stomach, following Nate, Baz and Ram out the door to where the car was waiting.

‘
Thanks, Gordie,’ Mattie said
to the little man who was already sweeping up after them. She couldn’t believe Baz and Nate had just left without even saying good-bye.

‘
Thanks for coming,’ Gordie said gratefully. ‘This farm means a lot to me.’

‘
Is it just you here
?’ Mattie asked. It was such a lonely place to be, for only one man.

Gordie
stopped tidying and glanced at Mattie. ‘It wasn’t always. My wife didn’t want to live out here no more, couldn’t take the isolation. When she saw I wouldn’t listen, she left.’

Mattie touched his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’ She wanted to say she knew what that felt like, being left behind. But her throat had closed.

Gordie shrugged. ‘It was over twenty years ago now. You know, I was so hurt she wanted to leave everything I built here that I didn’t even think about going with her. Wish I had now,’ he sighed. ‘I called a few years ago, said I’d changed my mind, but she’d remarried. Said she was happy.’

‘
S
he couldn’t expect you to give up your business, surely,’ Mattie said stiffly.

Gordie looked into her eyes. ‘Tell you what. I’d rather be with her and the kids right now, without this’
– he spread his arms out wide – ‘than here and alone.’

Something shifted in Mattie’s chest as she stared into Gordie’s sad eyes.
Would she feel that way back in London . . . company on track at last but all alone? The weight that had lodged itself in her chest since that day in Castle Combe got heavier.

‘
We’re leaving!’ Nate p
oked his head through the door.

Mattie surprised herself by giving Gordie a quick hug. ‘Thanks, Gordie.’ She followed Nate into the Land Rover and climbed into the back seat.

As the car
pulled away, she waved to the small bereft man, standing alone in front of his precious garlic farm.

*

Jess
caught herself humming the
Jackson 5
theme tune to
The Hating Game
as she pulled out of the school car park after the Staines Secondary School reunion. The game show was all anyone at the reunion wanted to hear about.

She’d been thrilled so many people wanted to talk to her, but when all the questions focused on Mattie and Adam, the happiness gave way to annoyance. Didn’t anyone want to know how
she
was; what
she
was doing? Apparently not.

Thank goodness
she’d stuck to her vow not to watch the daily update from wherever Mattie and Adam were stashed. She needed to forge her own life; to carve out a place besides being Mattie’s sidekick and Adam’s one-woman fan club. The class president had even pushed her onstage as a stand-in to accept Adam’s award – Most Successful Entrepreneur – since obviously he hadn’t been there to get it. Collecting awards for others, just as if
she
didn’t exist.

With nothing to do
back home, she decided to drop off Adam’s award with the concierge at his block of flats in the town centre. She pulled into the covered car park of the modern glass and metal building and rang the buzzer. The door clicked open and Jess walked inside. She knocked on the concierge’s door.

‘
Hello?’ H
er voice echoed in the foyer. The place was super cool, she thought, glancing at the reception area overlooking the river. Low metal tables and chunky chairs were scattered throughout the space, polished to within an inch of their lives. She could see the new Adam fitting in here perfectly.

She knocked again
. No answer.

Shit, she thought, juggling the awkward plaque. What was she supposed to do now? Maybe knock on his neighbours’ doors, see if they would hold it until he got back. She looked up Adam’s flat number on the buzzer list by the door, then headed into the lift to the tenth floor. Loud techno music boomed down the corridor and she followed the sound to Adam’s neighbour. At least someone was home! She rapped on the door.

‘
Yeah?’ It
swung open to reveal a guy about her age with a goatee and no shirt.

Jess
flushed and held out the plaque, feeling slightly idiotic. ‘Um, hi. I was just wondering if you could hang on to this until your neighbour, Adam, gets home?’

The man rubbed his beard
. ‘Adam? Oh, the bloke next door. Never actually met him, you know.‘

‘
Yeah, well, he’s shy,’ Jess mumbled.

Rummaging
in a metal box by the door, he passed her a key. ‘Here. You can drop it off yourself. My mate used to live there before your guy moved in. I never got around to giving it back when he left. Take it, it’s yours.’

‘
Oh, he’s not my guy . . .
’ The door closed before she could finish the explanation. Well, at least she could leave the plaque. And it would be kind of cool to see what Adam’s place was like.

She fitted the key in his lock,
not sure what to expect. Usually she could picture what a person’s home would look like but with this new Adam . . .

She swung
open the door.

Wow!
Everything was sharp edges and clean lines. Two black leather sofas formed a right angle overlooking a massive glass window. Strange red flowers spiralled from a futuristic vase on a table that resembled a cement block. In fact, the whole place was like the Tate Modern, and it couldn’t have been further from her own comfy lived-in flat.

Jess
tiptoed over to the cement block and carefully perched the plaque on it, backing away. Its cheap wood and engraved metal looked so naff. She picked it up again. Maybe it would look better in . . . the office? Did Adam even have one?

She headed down a corridor and looked into the first room. A giant king-sized bed with a black duvet took up most of the space, and the walls were bare. There was another door off the corridor. Maybe that was the office?

Ah, yes. Computers big and small l
ined one wall, while the other was covered with shelves holding what appeared to be video games. Jess peered at the spines and picked one at random.

She stared at the image on the front. The woman was a dead ringer for
Mattie – albeit, with a bust inflated to about twice normal size. And the man looked almost exactly like Adam did now. Weird.

She selected another one. Same thing. And another, and another . . . Did all Adam’s games have him as the hero and Mattie as the heroine? It was a bit strange, but not really surprising. Jess had always known Adam wasn’t over Mattie.

Wait, what
was this one? She drew out a CD with ‘Mattie’ scrawled across it. Curious, she booted up one of the computers and slipped it in, her mouth dropping open as the images loaded.

Thumbnails of hundreds – if not thousands – of photos of Mattie filled the screen. Jess clicked one open, then flicked through them. Mattie outside her flat; Mattie having a drink; Mattie going into her office . . .

Fuck. Adam’s
plaque fell from her arms, landing with a thump on the floor, but Jess didn’t even notice. This was more than not being over someone.

This was obsession.

C
HAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Eight
in ten men believe a show of strength impresses women.

Nine in
ten women admit they are most impressed by wealth.

‘
DAY TWO,’ MATTIE SIGHED AS SHE
opened her eyes the next morning. She almost felt like scratching a marker in the scarred bed frame, counting off the days like they did in prison. Only twelve more left. It seemed like an eternity.

She’d had another brutal night, trying to thump the pillow into shap
e as Gordie’s words floated back and forth across her consciousness. It would be grim to end up like Gordie. Or Mum, who always said she was happy alone, but Mattie had seen the sad look slide across her face when she thought no one was looking.

Mattie
pulled the thin covers around her neck to try to get warm. What torturous event had Tweedledee and Tweedledum planned for today? Yesterday had been suspiciously tame – for her, anyway.

She heard Adam
lurch into the loo for the countless time that morning and dragged the pillow over her head to block out any noise. The way he’d binged on all those horrible dishes yesterday, it wasn’t surprising he was suffering digestive issues. Mattie didn’t even want to recall the terrible sounds that had come from the toilet as soon as they’d returned from the farm yesterday. And with no door . . . At least Adam’s stomach explosion and resulting stench had sent the waiting massage therapist scurrying for fresh air – not that Mattie would
ever
let Adam massage her, anyway!

The caravan shook with an aggressive knock.

‘
Morning!’ Baz
burst in, followed by Nate and Ram. ‘Ready to go? We’ve got a big day ahead!’

‘
Do I look ready?’ Mattie grumbled as she threw
aside the covers. Actually, she
was
pretty much ready, having gone to bed wearing almost every piece of clothing she’d brought in a bid to keep warm. She tidied her hair into a ponytail and brushed her teeth in the kitchen sink, conscious of Ram’s ever-present camera.

‘
So what are we doing
?’ Mattie asked, slipping on mud-splattered shoes.

Baz
motioned for Ram to train the camera on her. A muscle jumped in Ram’s jaw, but he swung the lens as directed. ‘Well, Mattie, today’s Relationship Repair will focus on teamwork. I hope you like sports, because we’re going to learn how to play rugby!’

‘
Are you two freaks serious?’ Mattie said,
forgetting Ram and his camera. She looked over at Nate. ‘It’s raining outside. And it’s February.’

‘
A little rain never hurt anyone. And haven’t you ever heard what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?’ Baz bared his teeth at her. ‘Ah, here he is! Morning, Adam.’

‘
Morning,’ Adam said in
a deep monotone.

‘
We need to get going.’ Nate
looked at his watch. ‘Got to be at the field in twenty minutes. Adam, you might want to wear something more, er, suitable.’

Adam smoothed his neatly creased linen trousers – how had he kept them so perfectly pressed, Mattie wondered? – and his short-sleeved button-down. ‘No,’ he said stiffly. ‘I want to wear this.’

Nate
shrugged. ‘Whatever. Let’s go.’

*

Adam
stared blankly out of the car window as sodden fields flashed by. He took deep breaths in and out – one of the calming techniques a therapist had recommended after his break-up with Mattie, back when he just couldn’t live with the pain of rejection any longer. Right now what he really needed was a good thousand press-ups, but there hadn’t been time this morning and the built-up anger over yesterday was threatening to overwhelm him.

When Mattie hadn’t appreciated his efforts to win the
treat yesterday, he’d nearly exploded. But he had managed to keep it together – until she’d rejected just the
notion
of a couple’s massage class! Luckily he’d ducked out of the restaurant before she could see just how upset he was.

Gripping the arm
rest Mattie had tugged down between them, he vowed today was the day she’d see the real Adam. He wasn’t a pathetic loser any longer. Not by a long shot. Sports had never been his forte, but now – thanks to a couple weeks of training – he could show her just how much of a man he really was.

Once she saw that, there was no way she’d be able to resist him
.

*

An hour later, Mattie was standing in the middle of a field, the wind whipping rain across her face
so vigorously it stung. Thank God the Australian instructor had lent her a rugby jersey or she probably would have passed out from the cold. Her fingers were numb and she’d lost all feeling in her limbs.