The Debt & the Doormat (22 page)

It's funny, but from here the band doesn’t actually sound half bad.  Plus, it seems that I judged the bearded guys we’ve adopted a bit too early.  They’re actually really nice, with Butch telling me about his mum and the history behind his tattoo.  Something to do with an ex-girlfriend and fried chicken. 

‘You want some Poppy?’ Butch asks, offering the joint.

‘No thanks,’ I refuse politely.

Ryan takes a quick puff and I stare at him disapprovingly. 

‘What?’ he says, glaring back at me.

‘Nothing,’ I snap.

If Ryan gets stoned then I really will have no-one to look after me.  Calm down Pops.  You can look after yourself.  You’re a grown woman.  Yet the nerves still seem to be getting to me.  I need to get really, really drunk.  A familiar nagging begins in my bladder.

‘Izzy, where’s the toilet?’

‘I don't know.  Somewhere over there,’ she slurs, pointing vaguely into the distance.  Her eyes are completely glazed over and I think that it's probably the first time I’ve seen her well and truly smashed. 

‘Ryan,’ I ask, embarrassed that I have to show that I do in fact wee.  ‘Do you know where the toilet is?’

‘Um...I think I saw a sign for them on the way back,’ he says, sounding vague.

‘Could you show me?  Or better still...come with me?’ I whisper, feeling pathetic.

He studies my face for a second, obviously wondering if I’m joking. 

‘Yeah, OK.  But quickly, otherwise your boyfriend will want to come with us.’  He smiles towards Ringo and I dig him in the ribs.

We begin to walk into the darkness again and the same urge to hold onto Ryan takes over me.  It feels like every nerve ending I possess is on high alert.  Get a hold of yourself Poppy.

‘God, it's really dark isn’t it?’ I say, breaking the awkward silence.

‘Duh.’

Well that was comforting.  I grab on to the edge of his t-shirt and clutch on tighter as we get further and further away, my mouth becoming dry with panic.  I should have told him to stick to the main paths instead of picturing him naked. 

‘Why are you so panicky?’ he asks, his eyes wide with confusion.

‘I’m not!’ I protest a bit too quickly.  ‘I’m fine.  Oh look, there it is!’  I point to a sign that says toilets.  Behind it is a row of porta-loos.

‘I’ll wait here,’ he says, sticking his hands in his pockets.

I take another look at the line of porta-loos, immediately wishing I hadn’t.  They look so grubby.  There’s only one temporary light next to them which flickers every couple of seconds.  It's like a horror movie set.  When the lights aren’t flickering it's completely pitch black.  Basically, the place you pee if you want to get raped. 

‘Well?’ he says, giving me a quizzical look.  ‘Are you gonna go or what?’

‘I...I don't think I can,’ I whimper, trying to ignore my bulging bladder.

‘Are you fucking joking?’ he roars, exhaling sharply with the strangest expression on his face.  Anger flashes in his eyes, making him look hostile, even furious.  ‘Did you seriously make me walk all of this way just to change your mind?’ 

I’m slightly stung, despite myself.  He looks so pissed off that I wonder if it would be safer to just chance it and wee in these toilets.  And possibly get raped. 

‘I just...I’m kind of…scared,’ I stammer, dropping my eyes to the floor in a flush of embarrassment.

‘Scared?  What the hell are you scared of?’ he snaps, abruptly exasperated.

Right, that's it.  How dare he make me feel this stupid.  My temper starts to flare and I glare defiantly at him.

‘The fucking lights broken and it looks like a scene from crime watch.  Call me stupid, but I normally listen to that sixth sense which says DANGER.  I’m not one of these little twits you’re used to dealing with who you can scare into doing anything.  I have my own mind thank you!’

Surprise flits across his face and I wait for him to say something, out of breath from my little rant.

‘Woah!  Over reaction or what?’ he laughs. 

Yet again he’s made me feel pathetic.  Why do I set myself up every time!?  I don't even know why I like this guy, he’s a complete knob.

‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ he asks, trying to catch my eye.

I turn to glare at him, but the minute he catches my eye I fight the urge to burst into tears.  Why is it that whenever I get angry it ends up with me wanting to cry?  My emotions always betray me.

‘Ok,’ I whisper, afraid that my normal voice would break.

‘Come on then.’  He guides me in, seeming a lot more patient.  Probably terrified that I’ll cry. 

I look inside at the toilet seat, black from grime, vomit still in the bottom of the bowl.

He huffs as we both squeeze into the porta-loo.  ‘I never thought you’d be the scaredy little girl type,’ he smiles.

‘Just shut up,’ I snap.  He turns round to face the door and I lower my knickers.  I hover over the toilet, suddenly feeling really shy.  I really don't want him to hear me pee. 

‘Can you cover your ears or something?’

He snorts.  ‘Why, I’ve heard you get sick.’

‘Just shut up and sing or something will you!’

He covers his ears and starts singing some rubbish pop song, really struggling to hit the high notes.  I hope he’s taking the piss and he doesn’t honestly think he can sing.

‘All done,’ I say, pulling his hands away from his ears.  I pull the flush with my elbows, desperate not to touch anything with my hands.

‘What a shame, I was just getting to the chorus.’

‘Oh, how will we live,’ I say sarcastically.

When we walk out into the fresh air there’s a midget dressed up in an orange felt suit with black stripes drawn on with felt tip pen.  I think he’s supposed to be a tiger.  Could tonight get any more surreal? 

‘Go to the tiger show!  Free entry!  Free shots!’ he bellows.

I smile widely but try not to laugh.  I mean, that would be cruel. 

Ryan politely takes a voucher from him. 

‘You fancy it?’ he asks out of nowhere.

‘Really?’ I ask, taken aback by his sudden mood change.  ‘I mean, you don't want to trek back a hundred miles to sit around a field with a load of hairy bikers?’ I ask sarcastically.

He laughs and grabs my hand.  God, it’s so warm.  I shut my eyes and drink it in for a second.  We follow the tiger’s instructions to the show which seems to be held in a large green tent.  We stick our head through the hole and are straight away ushered to our seats by a lady with purple hair. 

‘Quickly, the shows about to start,’ she says, as she gives us a shot each.

‘So, what do you think the show will be about?’ he asks me before knocking back his shot.

‘I don't know.  Something to do with tigers I guess?’

He takes the shot instinctively off me and does that one too. 

‘Don't want you getting sick again, do we,’ he chuckles.

I dig him in the ribs and settle back to watch a random show about tigers, just glad to still be with him, completely uninterrupted from Grace and her giant breasts.

The curtains open and a woman painted orange comes out onto the stage dressed in a strappy bikini and hooker heels, with random bits of fur stuck to her and whiskers drawn on.  Rock music blares out of speakers, slowly at first, while she dances artistically around the stage.  Maybe this is going to be one of those arty farty affairs where you realise how sad it is to be a tiger.  This could be beautiful.

Just then a male tiger comes out, then three men dressed in black with balaclavas over their faces.  The minute they arrive I know it's going another way.  The music cranks up into a faster pace and two wooden crosses are wheeled onto the stage.  I turn to look at Ryan, but his face is transfixed on the stage and I can't read his expression. 

The balaclava guys start running after the tigers and captures them, tying them up to the crucifixes.  Then they take out these weird looking steel instruments while the woman screams.  I’m suddenly not sure whether this is really part of the show or if they’ve broken in here.

‘Oh my God, should we help her?’ I ask Ryan, clutching onto his t-shirt again.

‘No, it’s part of the show...I think,’ he says, his forehead crinkled. 

I turn back to the stage and before my eyes, the ninjas start piercing the tiger’s body parts.  First they pierce the man’s nipples.  I watch the rest through the tiny gaps in between my fingers, it’s too intriguing to look away.  The ninja’s pierce the woman’s nipples, her breasts completely on show now. 

A sickening feeling creeps into my stomach and I get the overwhelming urge to run away.  I probably would if I wasn’t so frozen in my place.  They cut off the man’s boxer shorts, exposing his giant penis.  My mouth falls open in shock, before they pierce that too.  I lean into Ryan, burying my head into his chest and this time he comforts me, hugging me with his arms.  I pray that I’ll pass out from shock, but I can still hear the screams and rock music, even with my hands over my ears.  It's like a nightmare.

After about five minutes the music stops abruptly and I look up to see all of them un-chained and bowing like it's a normal play.  Like it's Shakespeare or something! 

‘OH MY GOD!’ I shout at Ryan over the clapping.  ‘Why the hell is everyone clapping?  That was horrific.  It was like watching a horror movie live.’

‘Yeah...well, that was...different,’ he says, with a broad grin.

‘Different?  That was fucking awful!  Come on, I need a drink.’  I stand up and drag him out of there.

We stumble upon a cute little outside bar, which reminds me of a pool bar on holiday.  It's made of cheap wood and looks like a firm shove would push it over, but it's kind of pretty.  A few plastic flowers and twinkle lights tied around the roof make it look slightly magical. 

We settle down at the bar and order a few shots.  I know I don't normally do them, and Ryan does look a bit worried as I knock them back, but I honestly need them.  Once I’ve done them I immediately feel the confident, blurry haze take over me, and I’m glad.  I need to feel pissed for this evening to even start to feel normal again.

‘Do you do cocktails?’  I ask the barman, looking for a menu.

‘Sorry darling.  Only cocktails we do here are shandies and they’re only for pussies who can't take the pace.’

‘Well two beers then,’ Ryan says chuckling.  ‘So,’ he says, turning to me.  ‘Do you reckon she’s single?’

‘Who?’ I ask confused, looking around.

‘Miss Tiger,’ he smiles playfully.

‘I think she’s out of your league.  I mean, I think she’s in a whole other league.  Or planet, whichever you prefer.’ 

I burst out laughing, a mix of drunkenness taking over my body and the release of the stress I’ve been carrying in my stomach since the show started.  He joins in and before I know it we’re laughing so hard that I’ve snorted a few times and tears are falling out of his eyes.

I need to ask him about the Annabel situation before I forget my name.

‘So Ryan,’ I begin, mustering up all the strength I have.  ‘You work in family law.  You must know about divorces, right?’

He looks back at me strangely. 

‘Why?  You’re not secretly married are you?’ he smirks.

‘Obviously not,’ I snort.  ‘But if someone was planning on getting a divorce, but they signed on to the family business beforehand would they still be entitled to it?’

‘Yeah of course.  If it's signed in their name it would be theirs regardless.’

‘So if my....I mean, if this someone’s husband owned a third of the business they would have to buy out their half?’

‘Yeah,’ he says seriously.  ‘Actually in the divorce she’d probably also be able to claim half of his share in the company too.’

‘You are joking?’ I say to myself.

This evil witch is going to ruin my family. 

‘Why?  Who’s in trouble?’ he asks.

‘No-one!’ I shout sharply.  ‘No-one at all!’ I laugh unnaturally.

I get my phone out and frantically text Ollie to warn him. 

DO NOT let her sign those papers.  Under any circumstances!

‘So how’s Tabitha?  Is it going well? I ask as casually as I can.

‘Yeah fine thanks,’ he says vaguely.

‘And have you still managed to abstain from her?’ I ask, a large grin on my face.

‘Yep.  No sex for me.’

‘Well cheers to that,’ I say, a warm glowing feeling going through my body.  No sex means they’re barely going out.  They’re basically cousins. 

We carry on drinking and before I know it we’re both so drunk that we’ve sung karaoke and danced on the bar to Bon Jovi.  How it didn’t collapse I don't know.  I’ve won a competition for best air guitar, gaining us free drinks for the rest of the night.  The next time I needed the toilet I’ve just gone to the nearest corner and held onto Ryan while I’ve squatted and peed, managing to wee on my own feet a little bit.  But I don't even care!  I’m having the most wonderful night.  I really don't want it to end.  Ryan has totally cut loose, showing me a side I never knew he had.  He's so care free.  And beautiful.  So so beautiful.