Authors: Samantha Towle
“
I’ll catch you both later, then.” He turns and lets himself be led off by Sara toward the table where all the bottles of wine and spirits are.
“
It always surprises me them two have never got together.” Neil’s voice comes from beside me, suddenly sounding closer.
“
Who?” I ask, even though I know full well who he means.
“
James and Sara,” he says in an obvious tone. “I think they’d make a good couple.”
“
Hmm, yes,” I say, non-committal, unable to say anything else because now all I feel is edgy. I look over at the two of them and, at that same moment, James looks in my direction and catches me staring at him. I look away.
Neil leans closer to me, his arm pressing against mine. “I think Sara would like it that way as well,” he says in a conspiratorial tone.
I look up at him to find him considerably closer than I’d realised. “Has she said this to you?” I ensure my voice comes out lighter than I currently feel.
His blue eyes pierce mine. He shakes his head. “Nah, I can just tell. She dotes on him.”
I glance at them again from the corner of my eye. James has just said something to Sara and she’s laughing loudly, head thrown back, her hand on his chest. My skin is prickling with discomfort. “Do you think James feels the same?” I ask, maintaining the same light tone.
He drains his bottle and shrugs. “Dunno. He says they’re just mates, but who knows. To be honest I don’t know why he wouldn’t. She’s a real nice girl and pretty to boot – but I suppose they have been mates forever, so maybe he doesn’t want to spoil it. And it’s not like he’s ever been able to stick with one girl for too long.” He smirks. “He gets itchy feet, does our James.”
Then it’s almost like I see what Neil sees and the world closes off, and all I’m aware of is this insistent buzzing in my head. Almost as if all my thoughts have just come to life at one.
“
Can you excuse me,” I say, barely managing the words. “I just need to use the ladies' room.”
“
Yeah, no worries, was gonna go grab myself a bottle anyway.”
Neil follows me into the house and I just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, then we split off in different directions, him to the kitchen, me to the downstairs bathroom.
I lock the door behind me, rest my forehead against the cool glass, close my eyes and try to line up my thoughts into an orderly manner.
What am I doing here? Hoping against hope that James might one day love me whilst I carry on pretending to be human, when all I really am is a fraud, a walking, talking lie? And now, as I’ve just discovered, my only reason for being here is quite possibly a philanderer – and one very likely to end up with Sara which, if I’m being truthful with myself, is the way it should be.
The absurdity of it all actually makes me laugh out loud. But it’s a laugh tinged with sadness. For all I really feel is hurt and confused. Because to want something so badly as I want James, and to know I’ll never have him, is causing an actual physical ache inside me, and I truly wonder what I’ve done to deserve this kind of torture.
My head is throbbing with the pain. I grip my fingers tight around the basin.
I want to go home, go back to where it was simpler, back to when I didn’t have to feel any of this - where I was happy. Okay, well I wasn’t happy because I didn’t know what happiness was but I must have been content in some way.
It’s funny, all this time I’ve spent worrying about how long it will be before the Elders find me and praying they won’t, and now I just wish they would. Because no matter how I may feel, no matter how much it hurts, I know I’ll never be able to leave him of my own accord. The only time I’ll ever go is when they take me, or James definitively tells me to.
I hear the handle try on the door, then a knock. “You gonna be long in there?” comes a woman’s voice from the other side of the door
I open my eyes and move my head back. “No, I’m all done,” I say to the mirror.
I unlock the door and open it to reveal a woman with red hair who I met earlier but whose name I’ve now forgotten. “Thanks, hon,” she says, bouncing on the spot. “I’m absolutely busting.” She rushes past me into the toilet, closing the door behind her.
Putting a smile on my face, I venture back into the party even though I feel like I’m dying inside.
I spend the rest of the night avoiding James and desperately trying, albeit not successfully, to not look at him or anywhere in his vicinity, which is not such an easy feet, especially in such a small space. But then he hasn’t come to talk to me either, or looked in my direction that I’ve seen. I’m trying to ignore the fact, knowing that his time has been mainly consumed by Sara and his other guests. Well, Sara mainly. So I’ve spent most of the night talking to Neil who seemed happy enough to keep me company.
Finally finding myself alone, I go into the kitchen to rid myself of this hours-old wine. I watch as it paints the running water with its golden honey like colour. I put the glass down on the drainer and turn around to find Sara stood in the doorway eyeing me closely.
“
Hi,” I say in the most pleasant voice I can muster when I feel anything but.
Without speaking, she closes the door behind her and moves into the room, leaning forward onto the free-standing island. She begins tapping her long pink nails on the marble counter. “Look, Lucyna, I won’t beat about the bush here. We're both intelligent women and I think you’d appreciate my honesty, as I would yours.”
This time I’m the one who doesn’t speak. Her prickly tone is sitting distinctly uncomfortable. I wrap my arms around myself.
“
Okay so you’ve probably guessed I don’t like you,” she continues when she sees I have no intention of responding. “I think you know why. And I don’t know what your game is with James, but he’s been through a lot recently and doesn’t need someone like you messing with him.”
“
I don’t know what you mean,” I say, my voice oddly coming out sounding hoarse.
She sneers. “Yes, you do. You’re after something and I want you to tell me what it is.”
“
I’m not after anything.” Well aside from James’ love – but I omit that from my sentence, knowing that wouldn’t go down well.
She stands upright, hands on her hips. “I know you are. I can tell. I’ve met your type before. Its money, isn’t it?” she says with bite. “That’s what you’re after. I mean, come on, you and I both know that James is pretty well off.”
I open my mouth to speak but no sound comes out.
“
I mean, yeah, you saved his life and we're all grateful, really. But then apparently you have nowhere to live and James being James offers you a place to stay because he feels obliged to, then you just rock on up here and walk about like you own the place.” She runs her fingers through her smooth blonde hair. “I certainly can’t imagine anyone like you being homeless for starters and, yeah, I think you probably do fancy James because, well, you’d have to be blind not to. But there’s something more here, something not right about you, something that doesn’t sit right about this whole situation. I don’t know what, but I’m gonna find out.”
There’s this strange feeling stirring deep inside me that’s quickly bubbling to the surface, rushing up fast. My face is tingling, my throat constricting and my lips are trembling.
“
Did you find out that he’d come into a lot of money after the death of his dad. I mean the business alone is worth quite a bit and this house –” she gestures around, “-well it’s not exactly a two up two down in Brixton, is it?” Her eyes narrow onto me. “Did you think you’d target a rich, unhappy guy who’d just lost his dad, seeing him as an easy target and get all you could from him?”
Really she couldn’t be further from the truth. If only she did know.
“
I don’t want James’ money.” My voice sounds thick and wobbly.
She laughs caustically. “Well for someone who doesn’t want his money, you’ve done a pretty good job of spending it so far.” She points a long nail at my dress, trailing the length of it.
I glance down at it. Then my eyes blur and I feel water trickling down my cheek. I touch my fingertips to my face. There’s water coming from my eyes.
I’m crying.
“
Oh god, don’t start the waterworks,” she says callously. “I’m not James. Tears won’t work on me.”
I look down at my hand to see the tears running carelessly down my fingers.
So this is how it feels to cry. Funny, really, that Sara’s the one who manages to make me cry for the first time, the one whom I vie with for James’ affections. Quite poetic really.
She’s glaring at me with utter impatience, her foot tapping against the wooden floor. I find my voice and, even though it’s weak, I manage to get out, “No, Sara. You’ve got it all wrong. Really I don’t -”
“
Come on, I’m not stupid,” she chides, sweeping her blonde hair off her face, in that one motion managing to make me feel like I imagine a child might, even though I’m years - far beyond her imagination – older than she is. “If its money you’re after, I’ll give you some and you can be on your merry way and leave James the fuck alone. How much will it take to get rid of –”
“
What the fuck are you doing?” I jump at the sound of his James’ fury and my eyes snap up to see him stood in the doorway.
Sara spins around at the sound of his voice. He looks angry, really angry, and Neil is stood behind him looking really uncomfortable.
“
Jesus Christ, Sara, what is with you,” James says, frustrated. “It’s all I hear from you at the moment. Just what the fuck have you got against her?”
My eyes dart between James and Sara who has now sidled around the island putting a bit of distance between her and James. I really don’t want to here, to be part of this. I want to move, get away but I can’t, I’m rooted to the spot.
“
She’s just using you James, can’t you see that?” she says, face red, voice slightly unhinged.
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She’s not using me, you idiot. She’s just living in my house and, really, what the fuck has any of this got to do with you?”
“
What has this got to do with me?” Her eyes widen and she grips her head in frustration. “It’s got everything to do with me! You’re my best friend, you’re like my family and I won’t stand by and watch this little bitch bleed you dry because you’re blinded by a pretty face!”
“
What the fuck!” He shakes his head with disbelief. “I just don’t fucking believe you! She. Saved. My. Life.” He enunciates every word, singly and distinctly. “What is it that you don’t get about that? I owe her everything! I’d be dead if it wasn’t for her! She pulled me from a burning car, risked her own life to save me! I’d give her a fucking million quid if I could! So trust me, giving her a roof to live under until she gets back on her feet doesn’t seem that big a deal!”
“
But you don’t know anything about her –”
“
I know enough.” His voice comes out as sharp as a knife.
I see the tears welling in her eyes that she’s furiously blinking back. That’s also when I notice a few people standing behind Neil, obviously hearing the commotion, come to watch the show, a show I do not want to be a part of.
My legs finally obey the commands my brain is giving them. I take a side step edging toward the door. “I’ll go.”
“
No, Lucyna. Stay where you are.” James points me to the spot. And yet again I freeze. “You’re not the one who should be leaving,” he says forcibly, eyes narrowed and fixed on Sara.
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I don’t believe this!” she cries. “You’re choosing her over me.”
“
There was never a choice,” he says coolly.
I see her flinch as his words hit her, and honestly the level of hostility in his voice takes me by surprise too.
Neil sidles past James heading straight for Sara. “Come on, Sara, I’ll take you home.” He puts his arm around her shoulder and steers her away. “We’ve all had a bit too much to drink. Talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober.”
As they both move past where I still stand, Sara’s eyes dart over at me, giving me a parting look of such anger, such resentment, it blankets my skin with a chill.
James comes over to me now everyone’s left the kitchen and places his hands on my shoulders, his fingers gently gripping me. My skin burns under his touch. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s got into her. She shouldn’t have spoke to you like that.”
“
It’s fine.” My voice comes out a shaky whisper.
“
No, it’s not. You don’t deserve this.” He wipes away the teardrops that have once again started to cascade down my cheek with his thumb, his hand encompassing my face. His thumb traces down my jaw, lightly brushing over my lips. I glance up at him. His eyes are on my lips, lips that want the feel of his on mine. His eyes move up to mine, dark pools that are now flickering and flaming, and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me that’s makes my legs feel wobbly, that look eliciting all those feelings for him I’ve hidden, all quickly bubbling up to the surface.