The Debt & the Doormat (19 page)

‘Well, I did a damn site better job than you,’ Auntie Beryl slurs, tears in her eyes.

‘Oh really?  And so now you think my children are delinquents?’

‘Mum, she didn’t say that,’ I try and interrupt.

‘Jesus, Meryl!’ Dad shouts. 

‘Don't you get involved Douglas!’ she shouts, waving her hands frantically.

Ollie gets up.  ‘I’m going for a fag.’  He gives me a look which says ‘run while you can’.

‘If you’d have been a better mother maybe Oliver wouldn’t still be living at home smoking like a chimney.’

‘Hey, don't get me involved!’ he shouts looking hurt.

‘Don't start picking on my son!  Maybe if you were a better mother, Carolyn wouldn’t be licking vaginas in India right now!’

‘Mum!’ I shout, horrified. 

‘Poppy, for Christ’s sake!  Do something!’ Dad shouts, a helpless exhausted expression on his face.

Why does Dad always think that I can control them?  A riot squad of policemen couldn’t control these two.

‘I...I...listen to me!’ I try, desperate to get their attention. 

‘If you think for one moment, I’m going to stay here and let you insult me,’ Auntie Beryl says, swaying heavily in her seat.

‘Go!  No-one’s holding a gun to your head Beryl,’ Mum barks, crossing her arms.

‘Listen to me!’ I shout.  I look around desperately at Richard and Henry who are looking at their watches and clearly wondering if they can make a run for it.

‘What?  What are you going to do about it?  Hit me Meryl?  Because I still have the scar from the last time you lost your temper!’ 

‘Don't fucking tempt me Beryl!’

‘Just listen!’ I shout, standing up.

‘I’m not afraid of you.  Come on!  Let’s go.’  Auntie Beryl stands up and puts her fists up to her face.

‘Stop this!’ Dad shouts. 

‘Listen!’ I stand between them.

‘Do something!’ Dad shouts at me.

What the hell can I say to stop this?  Think.  Think of something that would shock them.  Anything!

‘I’ve got a boyfriend!’ I shout.

A sharp silence fills the air.  Five gawping faces stare back at me.  Oh dear.  What the hell have I done?

‘Sorry?’ Mum says, speaking very slowly, as if I’m a bird that she doesn’t want to startle in case I fly away.  ‘You’ve got a....a boyfriend?’

‘Um...yes.’

‘A real one?’ Auntie Beryl asks, pulling her head to the side.

‘Well of course a real one!’ Mum says, clicking her tongue. 

‘Stuart mentioned you were with someone new,’ Henry adds.  ‘Ryan, isn’t it?’

‘Why the hell do you still hang out with Stuart?  I’ve told you it makes me feel uncomfortable.’

‘He’s in my rugby team and I don't see why I should stop hanging out with him just because you guys broke up.’

‘Um, let me think.  Because he dumped me, because you’re loyal to your sister?’  He looks back at me like I’m some deranged nutter.

‘Darling,’ Mum says, her face lighting up, ‘you have to tell us
everything
!’

*
                            *                            *

When I get in I head straight for my bed, my temples pounding.  How the hell do I get myself into these messes?  Never have I been so accepted by my family.  Anyone would think I’d cured cancer tonight, not just announced that I’m seeing someone.  I now have an imaginary boyfriend called Ryan.

How the hell do I do it?

Not to worry.  No need to panic.  Although my life does seem to be getting more ridiculous and unpredictable by the second, there's one thing I can always count on.  A tea and a cupcake.

As I walk into the bakery the smell of freshly baked bread invades my nostrils.  I take a deep breath and already feel calmer.  Thank God for bread.  The owner Glenda greets me with a smile.  The moody goth girl with the black hair and lip piercing is helping out again, but she doesn’t acknowledge me. 

‘Morning,’ I say to goth girl.

She does her usual grunt of response.  Glenda looks up at me from serving a nearby table and smiles as if to say ‘when will she cheer up, eh?’  Seriously, why is this bitch always so miserable?  It's not like she can say she’s tired – she's surrounded by unlimited coffee!

Beep beep.  It’s a text from Jazz.

Today’s challenge – make a new friend to bring to Nobo 2mo nite.  Don’t worry Grandma, free entry and complimentary drinks xxx

Oh great.  Another night out.  Just what I need.  Who the hell am I going to be able to befriend before tomorrow night?  I don’t have the time and to be honest I can’t be bloody bothered.  

I look behind the glass counter at the lines and lines of cupcakes.  There’s sunflower cupcakes, chocolate orange cupcakes, cupcakes that look like shuttlecocks, cupcakes with chocolate buttons and balls on top, cupcakes with strawberry slices coated in chocolate.  Everywhere I look there’s sprinkles, flakes, butterflies. 

‘I’ll have a tea and one of those cupcakes please.’

The cupcake I’m pointing to is only the most beautiful cupcake every created in the world.  It's got yellow and blue swirls, with a glittery flower in the middle of it. 

Goth girl grunts and presses the buttons on the machine.  You’d think she’d make a bit of an effort.  I do come in here most mornings.  And lunchtimes.  And occasionally after work.  OK, so I’m basically here all the time.  All the more reason for her to make an effort.  Yet each time she just grunts and throws my
tea at me.  Maybe it's me.  Maybe she could be my friend for tomorrow night.  That way I wouldn’t have to bother running around desperately after work.

Ok, think friendly. 

‘Has it been a busy morning?’ I ask, trying to sound bright and perky. 

She nods.  Ok, well that's put an end to that conversation.  Think Poppy, think.

‘Do you...like working here?’

She turns from the very loud machine to stare at me as if I’m crazy.

‘Do I like working here?  Are you mad?’  She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.

‘No.  I just wondered.  Trying to…make conversation, you know.’  I wish I hadn’t bothered.

‘You don't have to bother,’ she shrugs.

She is SO rude!

‘Well it's better than the awkward silence while the machine spurts all over the place,’ I snap.

She turns to look me square in the eye, as if she's sussing me out.  Then she relents.

‘I hate it.  Glenda bosses me around all day and makes me work weekends and I stink of coffee.’

‘Oh.  Well...at least...you’re providing a service to people.  You know...people without
tea or coffee, they’d be nightmares.  And people love cakes.  You’re probably saving loads of people from grumpy bosses.  Take mine for example.  He’s a right misery most of the time but the quick half hour after he’s had his coffee he’s like a different person.’  I realise I’m speaking really fast, but I can't help it, the nerves are spurring me on.

‘Really?  Your boss is a nightmare too?’

‘Oh totally!  He’s the fucking devil incarnate, in truth.’

‘Well...I suppose that makes me feel a bit better.’  She smiles slightly.

‘Exactly!  We’re all in the same boat.’

‘Here you go.’  She hands over the beautiful cupcake and
tea.  I give her my money before I drool over it.

Through all of her piercings she has a pretty face with clear blue eyes.  I’ve already laid the groundwork.  I just need the guts to ask her. 

‘Actually,’ I say, stalling.  ‘I...I was wondering if you fancied going out tomorrow night.  A few friends of mine are going to Nobo in Soho and it's gonna be a laugh.  It might cheer you up?’

‘I’m not sure.’  She wrinkles her face up.

God the rejection is hard.  This is why I don't ask guy’s out.

‘Go on.  You deserve to let your hair down.’  I smile desperately.  

‘No it's not that,’ she says, looking everywhere apart from me.  ‘It's just...well...’

‘What?’

‘I don't play on your team,’ she blurts out, suddenly red all over.

Same team?  What team?  Does she mean netball? 

‘You...you think I’m a lesbian?!’ I shriek.

A few people sitting down with their coffees turn to look at me.  Maybe I was a bit loud.

‘Yes.  I mean...weren’t you trying to chat me up?’

‘No!  Jesus, I was just trying to be friendly.  I won't bloody bother next time!’  I grab my
tea and cupcake, getting ready to run, wondering if I’ll ever be able to show my face in here again.

‘No!  Please!  Honestly, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to piss you off.  It's just...’

‘It's just you thought I was a massive lesbian.  Why the hell would you think that?  Do I give off a massive lesbian vibe or something?’

‘No.  But....you know.  The way you dress and stuff, I did wonder.  And then with you asking all of those questions – I just put two and two together.’

‘Yeah and got a hundred and twenty-five!’ I shout, feeling flushed. 

Do I dress like a lesbian and not realise it?  Maybe when everyone moans at me to dress more feminine it's actually because they think I look like a complete fanny muncher.  Don't get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against lesbians.  My Cousin Carolyn’s one.  To be honest I totally get it.  Men are baboons.  But me?  I thought lesbians were butch, with boy haircuts and they wore work boots and listened to indie music?    

‘I’m really sorry.  I didn’t mean to offend you.’

‘No it's fine.  I’ve gotta go.’  I turn, my cheeks hot from humiliation.

‘No please!  I will come out with you.  8pm at Nobo right?  I’ll be there!’

‘Whatever.’  I just want to get the hell out of here.  I walk quickly to the door and then I drop my cupcake.

*                            *                            *

I still can't stop thinking about it.  Not the cupcake, I got over that about an hour ago.  Do I look like a lesbian?  Is that why Ryan isn’t showing any interest in me?  Does he think I’m a lesbian?  Do I need to send out a newsletter or something?

‘Poppy, you’ve got a visitor downstairs,’ Gavin says, breaking me from my thoughts.

‘Oh yeah, who is it?’ I say shortly, glaring at him.  ‘Michael Flatley?  Louis Walsh?  I’ve had enough of the Irish jokes, ok!’

‘Wow!  Chill!’ he says, his hands up in defence.  ‘It's your Mum.’

‘My Mum?’ I ask, puzzled.

‘Yep.  She’s downstairs.’

Oh great.

‘Really?  She didn’t tell me she was coming.’

I wander down the stairs into reception and there she is.  She’s wearing a zebra print suit with an orange t-shirt.  Her hair is scooped up into its usual clip. 

‘Hi Mum.’  I quickly look around, eager for no-one to see her.

‘Hi darling!  I can't believe I’ve never been to your offices before.  They’re really...’ she trails off as she looks around at the cracked plaster and Suzanne the receptionist picking her teeth. 

‘Yes, well anyway.  What are you doing here?’

‘I’m meeting you for lunch darling.’  She looks at me as if I’m mad.

‘Did you send me an e-mail or something?’  I sigh, trying not to show how frustrated with her I am.

‘No.  I just thought I’d pop along.  You’re not busy are you?’

‘Um, actually.  I’m not sure.  I have got loads on,’ I stall.

‘Oh.  Well remember darling, I have trekked all the way here from home.  To London, crime capital of England.  I can't believe I’m still alive to be honest with you.  It’d be an awful shame for me to have to go back hungry.’

God – always with the guilt trip.

‘Ok.  I’ll just grab my bag.’  I walk back to my desk cursing under my breath.  It's so typical for her to just turn up and expect me to drop everything.

‘Guess what!’ Lilly shouts, running up to me with flushed cheeks.

‘What?’ I ask, my voice flat and uninterested.

‘Me and Alex have just put an offer in on a flat.  And it's been accepted!’

Oh my God.

‘Isn’t that amazing!’ she shrieks, dancing up and down, her boobs nearly falling out of her top.

She can't be buying a flat.  She’s about to get made redundant. 

‘I...’ I clear my throat uncomfortably.  ‘I didn’t even know you were looking?’

‘I know.  That's Alex; he was all like don't tell anyone until we’ve found a place, we’ll just jinx it.  Bless him,’ she giggles.

‘Are you sure...I mean, do you think it's a good time for you to buy?’

‘Yeah of course.  We’re both in stable jobs, we’ve got a deposit and been accepted for a mortgage.  Why wouldn’t we?’  She narrows her eyes at me accusingly.  ‘Why, is there something you know that I don't?’

You’re going to be made redundant and be stuck with a flat that you’ll probably have to have repossessed. 

‘No!’ I shriek unnaturally. 

‘Because if you know something I don't, you should tell me’.  She’s looking at me really upset now, her big eyes boring into mine.  ‘Because if Alex is having an affair, I want to know now!’

‘Affair?’

‘Yes!  If you know he’s having an affair I should know now!  So is he?  Yes or no?’

‘No!  Of course it's a no!  I’m sorry.’  I pull myself desperately together.  ‘I just worry about you stretching yourself too thin with money and stuff.’

‘Ah Pops,’ she beams at me.  ‘I love how you worry about me, but don't worry.  That's what we got a financial advisor for.’

‘Ok,’ I say, unconvinced.  ‘I’ve gotta go to lunch with my mum anyway.’

‘Good luck,’ she laughs, already running off to tell everyone else.

When I walk back down the stairs Mum’s telling Suzanne about how wonderful dry shampoo is and how she should use it to stop her hair being greasy.

‘Come on Mum.’  I drag her away, smiling apologetically at Suzanne.

‘Oh, lovely girl that Suzanne.  Just a bloody shame about the greasy hair.’

‘Mum!  We haven’t even left the reception yet,’ I whisper.

‘Well some people need to be told,’ she scoffs, completely unembarrassed. 

‘Ok whatever.  Anyway, where do you want to go for lunch?  There’s a nice little Italian a few roads away from here.’

‘Not sure about that.  I’m off the carbs now.  Auntie Beryl’s got me on another diet.’

‘When will you stop with these crazy diets!’

‘They’re not crazy sweetheart.  Maybe you should try one sometime.  It wouldn’t kill you.’  She looks me up and down disapprovingly. 

Great.  Now I’ve been called both a lesbian and fat in the same day.  A fat lesbian.

‘Anyway, where do you want to go then?’ I ask through gritted teeth.

‘Wherever Ryan wants to take us,’ she smiles.

‘Sorry?  Ryan?’

Oh my God.  My imaginary boyfriend Ryan.

‘Yes.  You should always let the man decide on where to eat.  Makes them feel superior,’ she nods knowingly. 

‘But...we haven’t invited Ryan.’

‘Well we can invite him now!’  She shakes her head as if I’m retarded.

‘Mum, he’s very busy.  I doubt he’ll have time,’ I say playing for time.  Think Poppy, think of an action plan.

‘Well you won't know until you ask.’

Oh my God.  What the hell am I going to do?  She stares back at me expectantly.  I know she won't drop this.

‘Actually Mum, I’ll just call him.’

I grab my phone out of my handbag and realise I probably won't get away with pretending to call someone.  With my luck it would call while I was faking.  I’ll call Jazz.

‘Hey babe, you ok?’ Jazz says down the phone.  I’ve just got to hope that she realises what I’m doing.

‘Hi R-y-a-n,’ I say, pronouncing his name very slowly. 

‘Ryan?  Babe you’ve called the wrong number.  It's me.’

‘Yes, R-y-a-n.  My mum’s in London and she wondered if you wanted to have lunch?’

‘Ryan?  You’re taking Ryan for lunch with your Mum?’

Jesus.  She really doesn’t get it does she.

‘What's he saying?’ Mum says, trying to grab the phone off me.

‘Oh no!  What a shame,’ I say hitting her hand away.  ‘Well don't worry, we’ll organise something soon.’

‘Oh I get it.  Is this something for your mum?’ Jazz finally clocks.