Read The Debt & the Doormat Online
Authors: Laura Barnard
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #Romance
‘Well, it’s only a shitty marketing assistant role and the money’s rubbish, but its full time. Like you said, it’s regular money isn’t it. I start tomorrow!’
‘Exactly!’ I exclaim, still shocked.
Wow – she really is listening to me. I can’t actually believe she’s been so easy to crack.
‘So, did you ring the credit card companies?’
‘Yeah, but they weren’t really helpful. They just said that I still need to make my minimum payment each month or else they’ll take further action.’
‘Oh, well I was thinking anyway. You need to transfer all of those debts onto an interest free credit card. That way you’ll only pay off the debt.’
‘I know,’ she nods, ‘that's what your Dad said. I’ve sent off to Virgin and they’ve accepted it in principle. They’re sending me through my details and then I can make all of the transfers.’
‘Sorry? Did you just say my Dad?’
‘Yep. He rang last night and we had a long chat. Good old Douggie,’ she smiles affectionately. ‘I told him everything and he said it’d be the best thing to do. He was really helpful. I think he was just glad to have someone that would listen to him, you know?’
Unfortunately I do know what she means. My Mum, although I love her to bits, is a nightmare to live with. She’s so busy keeping up with the Jones’s and re-decorating every room in the house, that she doesn’t realise she’s spending the whole time driving everyone else around her mad.
‘But he was worried you’d get yourself into trouble. You know how he worries about you.’
Oh great, so now I’m going to have more lectures from him about being safe in London and carrying my rape alarm. When will he realise that I’m not going to die just because I’m on my own? I mean, I may be a bit accident prone, but still. The truth is that the amount of stories he’s told me over the years have terrified me so much I’m scared to go almost anywhere. And I’m sure that's why I trip.
‘Did he say what he was ringing about?’
‘Yeah, it was to chat about your brother’s wedding. And your Mum shouted something in the background about you only having a month now to lose the puppy fat.’ She turns quickly to paint the wall, trying desperately to hide her giggles.
Like I could forget. Mum’s been ringing me practically every day to remind me that I need to look fabulous, and boring me with all of the preparation details. She even ‘accidentally’ e-mailed me a link to a plastic surgery clinic advertising boob jobs.
‘So anyway,’ I try to shake the thought of her out of my head. ‘Did you spend money on the paint?’
‘No, even better. I was walking past this house down the road which is having loads of work done and I got chatting to the builders. They said the woman was being a nightmare and saying they’d bought the wrong shade of red. Anyway, long story short, this gorgeous builder said I could have the paint and some brushes if I agreed to go out on a date with him. It’s win, win!’
‘Oh my God! You’ve pimped yourself out just to get some paint.’
Images of Jazz walking past in stripper heels and leopard print flash through my mind. Mainly because I know she owns those clothes.
‘Didn’t you hear me – he’s gorgeous! Quite magnificent actually.’
‘Really,’ I say sarcastically.
‘Totally! Did you ever see Titanic?’ she swoons.
‘Oh yeah,’ I say, brightening up at the thought of Leonardo Di Caprio. He must be hot.
‘Well he’s kind of like the guy I went to see that with.’
‘Oh.’
She makes no sense.
‘I can’t wait. He’s already called and we’re going out tonight.’
‘Jesus, he’s keen! But wait, I thought we said any decisions had to be passed through the other one? And how are you going to afford it?’
‘Chill out Grandma!’ she giggles. ‘Its only pizza express and hopefully he’ll be a gentleman and pay.’
‘Whatever,’ I retort. I hate when she calls me Grandma.
‘Oh and your brother popped round.’
‘Which one?’
‘Ollie. I filled him in on our little arrangement.’
‘Oh great. So he’s gonna rip the piss out of me next time I see him.’
She giggles again, seeming desperate not to openly laugh in my face.
‘Anyway, I’ve told you about my day. What happened with you?’
I fill her in with the excruciating details. It really does amaze me how she can be so lucky and me so the complete opposite. In one day she’s managed to get a job, start to deal with her debt, paint my sitting room a God awful colour and get a date. What have I done? I’ve been chained to a banister. She really is like a cat, always landing on her feet. I’m more like a dog with a missing leg and one eye, that people feel sorry for but are too horrified to take home.
‘Wow chick, it sounds like you’ve had a right adventure,’ she laughs, as if she’s not surprised. ‘So, what do you think of the guys in the house?’
I roll my eyes with contempt.
She raises her eyebrows. ‘That bad?’
‘Well, Izzy’s lovely obviously, even if she is like a puppy on speed.’
Jazz lets out a giggle and I can tell the feeling is mutual.
‘But Grace is a total bitch and that Ryan’s a complete weirdo.’
‘Don’t be so judgemental! Once you get to know them they’re fab. You just have to know how to handle them,’ she winks.
Know how to handle them? What, shag Ryan like Grace and Izzy? I don't think so. He did never say that Jazz had got with him, but it does make me wonder. Wonder whether she ever did fancy him.
‘I suppose.’ I say, already deciding to ignore her advice. ‘Jesus, your rooms a bloody mess by the way. I was trying to sort it out a bit and I found loads of old letters. Even the one you made me write to Him!’
‘Oh my God! I’d completely forgotten about that!’ she giggles.
‘Exactly. That's how much your room is a shit tip.’
‘Oh well. I’ll just have to hope the world doesn’t end from this catastrophe.’ She rolls her eyes and flicks me with some paint.
‘Stop!’ I exclaim, ducking out of the way just in time for it to get the other wall.
I can't stop wondering if Jazz ever had a crush on Ryan. Whether it's a house curse.
‘Anyway....can I ask a weird question?’ I already feel my cheeks reddening.
‘Yeah, but it’s not more questions about money is it? You’re boring me to death with all of this crap.’
‘No...It’s...well...’
‘Jesus, just spit it out!’
‘Ok.’ I take a deep breath, wondering if I’m being ridiculous to even ask this. ‘Have you ever...slept with Ryan?’ I look at the floor, not wanting to look her in the eye.
The sound of hysterical laughing makes me look up. Her face is bright red with hysterics, her eyes watering and she’s holding her crotch with her hand, as if to stop her peeing her pants.
‘What’s so funny about that?’ I ask, my cheeks burning. I wish I’d never asked.
‘Sorry, it’s just...’ She barely finishes her sentence before she’s collapsed over again in a big head of hysterics.
‘It’s not that funny! He has slept with the other two,’ I say defensively crossing my arms.
I haven’t seen her laughing this hard since our Ireland trip when we got so drunk I was convinced the cows were staring at me. My stomach muscles ached for days. I wish she’d stop laughing. The longer it goes on the longer I’m contemplating throwing myself out of the window.
‘Stop!’ I demand, my face now puce.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ She straightens herself up and seems to pull herself together.
‘Well, is that a no?’
‘Yes,’ she laughs. She quickly turns her face into a stern one, probably sensing my mood. ‘I’ve never slept with Ryan. I mean, God! He’s more like an older brother or something. I really don’t even really see him that way. In a nice way obviously, but no. I can honestly say I’ve never felt attracted to him.’
‘Oh, ok.’
‘I don’t really get it to be honest. Everyone seems to just swoon at his feet and he doesn’t even seem to try. I mean obviously he is gorgeous but I don't see what the big deal is. Yet girls are constantly coming out of his bedroom in the morning. It’s weird.’
‘Great, so I’m living with a man whore.’
‘Why do you ask anyway?’ Her expression quickly changes to excitement. ‘Oh my God, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for his charms too?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ I snap, feeling myself redden again. ‘I just wondered that's all.’
‘Good,’ she nods warningly. ‘Don't go falling for him. He’s a player. Doesn’t keep a girl for more than a night. In fact Grace is constantly trying to re-bed him. You should see her when she’s got a drink in her, all over him like a bad rash. But I don’t think he’s interested in her, which probably infuriates her.’
I can’t really imagine a man being able to turn Grace down. Even though she’s a massive bitch, she’s a force to be reckoned with, what with her amazing figure and chiselled cheekbones.
‘Anyway, now it’s my turn,’ Jazz declares.
I look at her confused. What can she question me on?
‘You honestly think that by wearing a yellow hair band, that's taking my orders? When I say yellow I mean wear fucking yellow. Not some pathetic attempt.’
I touch the hair band and feel my cheeks burn. I do feel a bit awful. I mean, here she is going above and beyond and I can’t even wear yellow.
‘And you’re in flat shoes! And I bet your underwear is gross, all grey and baggy?’
How does she know this?
‘A general tip babe; if your underwear is older than the pizza delivery boy it's time to get some new ones.’
‘Oh shut up. It's totally pink and pretty actually,’ I say hoping she’ll drop it.
‘
Really
?’ she taunts, jumping over to me and tugging at my trousers.
‘Jazz! Get off me, you bloody lesbian!’
‘I vanna see your knickers!’ she shouts in a loud German accent, giggling.
‘Get off!’ I screech, as she wrestles me to the floor.
My phone beeping stops her. She runs off and gets it from my bag.
‘Oh my God,’ she says, her eyes lighting up as she reads it. ‘Did you meet someone last night?’
Meet someone? Crap, could it be the sexy stranger? I was sure that Ryan would have scared him off.
‘Why? What does it say?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ she teases, stalking round the sofa slowly.
‘Just tell me for God’s sake.’
‘Ok, it says, “Hey sexy, it's Hugh from last night. Fancy a bite to eat tonight? Kiss kiss.”’ She grins widely at me, her eyes lit up with intrigue. ‘Tell me EVERYTHING!’
‘Oh, he’s just some guy from last night. I didn’t even know his name until now. He was good looking I suppose, but...he was kinda pushy.’
‘Kinda pushy is what you want! I love a man that takes charge.’
‘I’m sure you do.’ I sigh heavily, sure she’s not going to drop this.
‘Well! I’m going to text back and say you’d love to.’ She starts texting away and I instantly panic, my sweat glands going into overdrive.
‘No, Jazz don't! I can't!’
I jump up to wrestle her to the ground, trying to pry my phone from her fingers, but my God she’s strong.
‘I know nothing about him, apart from the fact he likes tongue kissing strangers on the dance floor. Hardly a glowing reputation. I mean, does he even know my name?’
‘Who fucking cares! You just want a good shag, no?’ She kicks me away.
‘No! And what if he’s a total nutter out to murder me?’
‘Jeez, constantly with the drama. You’ve been watching too much Crimewatch; I blame your mother.’
‘Just give me the fucking phone!’ I scream, straddling her with my legs and pushing her hands over her head, her delicate fingers still prised protectively around the phone.
‘Hello? Girls?’
I turn my head in shock to see Raj walking into the sitting room. What is he doing here?
‘Ha ha! I pressed send,’ Jazz laughs.
I grunt in frustration and fall to the floor.
‘What? Raj, what are you doing here?’
‘Sorry girls,’ he says, cowering shyly. ‘The door was open. I just wondered if you wanted some onion bhajee’s? They went off yesterday but there’s nothing wrong with them.’
‘No thanks,’ Jazz announces proudly, her face red from the wrestling. ‘We’ve got dinner dates.’
I take a deep breath as I walk into the restaurant. This is going to be fine. No – better than fine. It's going to be a fantastic evening. It doesn’t matter that this is your first date since Him. Of course not. I’m sure it will be fine; no, amazing! I take my time to walk down the steps, all too aware of Jazz’s six inch heels that are already digging into my ankles.
I scan the room, trying to find him or Jazz. I decided to meet him in the same Pizza Express so I could use Jazz for moral support. Maybe he’s stood me up. Maybe he’s had a better offer. Maybe Jazz has set me up and didn’t plan on coming here at all.
‘Hey sexy,’ a male voice whispers in my ear, appearing out of nowhere.
‘Fuck!’ I shout, alarmed, jerking my head round in shock.
The whole restaurant turns round to stare at me. Perhaps I was a teeny tiny bit loud.
‘Shall we go to our table?’ he asks ignoring my crazy behaviour.
I feel his long strong hands on my neck and I flinch, before I realise he’s taking my coat off me. It feels strange to have someone taking off my coat, almost intimate really. But I have to pull myself together. It's just been so long since anyone has touched me. At all. His eyes are everywhere, admiring Jazz’s purple dress that she’d squeezed me into. It’s so tight I can barely breathe, but Jazz reassures me that's how I’m supposed to feel.
We take our seats at a quiet table in the corner, next to a giant painting of a naked fat woman. It strikes me as strange as to why a restaurant would put a painting like that up. Any woman looking at it would immediately fear of ordering a side of dough balls, seeing her potential near future. As I sit down, Jazz’s familiar cackle echoes against the walls. I discreetly follow the sound and manage to spot her at the other side of the restaurant, talking with lots of hand motions to some guy. I can’t see him, but the back of his head looks nice.
The meal goes fine, but I barely say a word. He spends the whole time talking about himself; about his job, his boat, his big house. He really does seem like a self-obsessed prick if I’m honest, but I have to remind myself that he’s gorgeous, if nothing else. And that this is a massive step for me – my first date since Him. It's really an achievement if nothing else. I stare into my wine glass, wondering if I’d look like an alcoholic if I ordered another bottle.
‘And that was the year we went to St Tropez. Have you ever been? Oh you should, the beaches are amazing and last year we saw Brad...’
The table trembles and I grab my wine glass to stop it from falling over. I look up to see that Jazz has thrown herself against the table. What is she doing?
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m such a klutz!’ she apologises to Hugh. She turns to face me in sudden recognition. ‘Oh my God...Poppy? Is that you? It’s been years!’
Oh God, her acting really is so transparent. It’s embarrassing. He really can't be buying this.
‘Come to the ladies with me and we can have a catch up, hmm?’ she says, in her ridiculous posh accent that she puts on whenever she’s lying. Anyone would think she went to Oxford instead of Leeds. None the less, I smile politely and follow her into the toilets.
‘Nice acting,’ I say sarcastically as soon as the door is shut.
‘Thanks. I’m thinking about my Oscar speech,’ she jokes as she pulls up her sky blue dress and yanks down her knickers, plonking herself on the toilet and not bothering to shut the door.
I swear I’ve seen this woman’s vagina more times than I’ve seen my own. She really does have no boundaries.
‘So, what’s he like?’ she shouts, even though she's barely a foot away from me.
‘To be honest, he’s a bit of a douche. He won’t stop talking about himself.’
‘Yeah, but Pops have you seen him? He’s fucking gorgeous; who cares if he’s boring.’
‘Well it’s not going to go anywhere.’ I look in the mirror and re-apply the near purple lipstick that Jazz forced me to wear. I’m sure it makes me look like a super hero.
‘Jeez, I’m not asking you to marry the guy! Why don’t you just have a one nighter with him?’
She says it like it’s the most normal ordinary thing to do in the world. Just like saying ‘why don’t you buy butter instead of margarine’. The thought of a near stranger touching my bare skin makes me shiver in disgust.
‘Because I’m not a whore! I can’t just give myself to a practical stranger.’ She really doesn’t know me at all.
‘Give yourself?’ She yanks up her knickers and comes out of the cubicle. ‘Next you’ll be talking about your special flower.’
I narrow my eyes at her, trying to show my irritation.
‘I just think you should have a one night stand with him. I do it all the time, it’s great. Pure, hot, indulgent sex and no strings attached. You really can’t go through life without doing it at least once.’
‘Oh really, and you’re such a good example are you? Where have all the one night stands got you?’ I ask bitchily. Her face drops and I immediately feel awful.
‘Hey, I’ve had loads of hot sex actually,’ she says defensively. ‘Which is more than I can say about you. How many men have you slept with? Was it three?’ she mocks.
Well now I practically feel like a virgin.
‘I’m sorry,’ I sigh. ‘I didn’t mean to be a bitch. It’s just....I’m scared. I don’t know if I can get naked in front of someone I don’t see a future with.’
‘God, you’re practically a nun!’ She turns to face me, placing her hands on my shoulders. ‘Look, I know it’ll be the first time since...Him. But, remember that you can be anything you want to be. For all he knows you’re some vamp who eats men for breakfast. Just think of it as a performance.’
I think about it for a moment and try not to allow my stomach to curl up in fear. Maybe this would be good for me. Help me move on completely. It would be nice to get my number up to four.
‘The only way you’re going to completely get over him is to get
under
someone else.’
‘Jazz!’ I exclaim. She can be so crass.
‘Whatever, virgin,’ she jokes, a comical look on her face.
I think about her poor date. He has no idea what he’s let himself in for. She’ll eat him alive. An idea pops into my head.
‘Ok. I’ll do it. But only if you don’t sleep with your man tonight,’ I challenge.
‘What? Why do I have to suffer?’ she asks dramatically pouting her lips.
‘I’m doing this for your own good. You seem to like this guy, so why ruin it by jumping into bed with him? Make him wait a while and it will be even better.’
She ponders over this for a while as she puts on more neon pink lipstick and puffs up her long tangled hair.
‘Ok it’s a deal. But remember – think Madonna in her slutty days.’
*
* *
As I put the key into the unfamiliar door, I notice my hands are shaking. I’m really going through with this. Is it too late to change my mind? I mean, I have made him travel all the way to the house, insistent that I didn’t want to go to his bachelor pad. And he did pay for the taxi. It’d probably be unreasonable to change my mind now.
I tip toe into the house, glad to find it in darkness. They must be in bed, or maybe they’re still out. I open the door to my bedroom and push the clothes from the floor with my foot to make a path. I really should tidy up this pig sty.
I turn to him and swallow hard, desperately trying to think of something sexy to say. There’s no need as he plunges his lips onto mine. I kiss him back and try to think vamp as he claws at my dress. Fight every natural urge in your body to run away and commit to this. It’s really no big deal.
* * *
Well that was different. That really was something. I was an
animal
! Jazz was so right, once I got into character, I was on fire. To think at the start I was actually worried I wouldn’t know what I was doing. But it's just like riding a bike. And boy, oh boy, did I just get back on that saddle.
My fears of bats flying loose from my vagina as my knickers were torn off are over. I was fine. Actually I was better than fine. I was throwing moves I never even knew I had. I threw him all round that bedroom. I think I even slapped him in the face at one point. It was crazy. Just for that night I was someone else. I
was
Madonna.
I creep out of bed, scared to death of waking him, and put on Jazz’s pink fluffy dressing gown. Suddenly I’m terrified that he’ll expect a repeat performance. My whole body aches as it is, I’d probably just have a heart attack and die if I went through it again. No matter how good it was, I’m still pleased it's over. I can just move on now.
I skip into the kitchen, thinking what a seductive vamp I am while I flick the kettle on.
‘Morning.’
I jump and turn round, with my heart still in my throat, to find Ryan. He’s in his usual spot, reading a paper and drinking a cup of tea.
‘Oh hi,’ I say, quickly checking that I don’t have mascara gunk in my eye. ‘You’d think I’d get used to that,’ I mutter under my breath.
I hear him snort a laugh. Whoops. I hope he didn’t hear me.
‘Right...I’ll be off then,’ my one night stand says, suddenly walking into the kitchen. He’s only half dressed, pulling on his shirt. Oh my God. What's his name? I can't remember his name!
‘Yeah, bye.’ I smile awkwardly, wishing he would leave quicker.
He leaves and I breathe a breath of relief. Damn, I was wishing I could have snuck him out before anyone else was awake. I glance up quickly to see Ryan smiling. Sudden irrational anger takes over me. Why the hell does Ryan get up so early if he doesn’t work? It's unnatural, and confirms to me he is definitely a freak. I turn back to the kettle and try to think cooling thoughts; ice cubes, polar bears. Anything to stop the fire in my cheeks.
‘So, you had fun last night then?’ Ryan asks cockily from above his paper.
‘Hey don’t judge me, man whore,’ I snap, feeling my lip curl, ready for a fight.
‘Man whore?’ He puts his paper down and stares at me.
Wow – I’ve really got his attention. I can't back down now.
‘Yes, you heard me. I’ve heard all about your reputation. And for your information that was the first one night stand I’ve ever had. So don't think
you
can judge
me.
’
Yeah, that told him.
‘Hey, I believe you. Millions wouldn’t, but I do,’ he says sarcastically, as he takes a sip of tea.
God, he’s so infuriating. I want to throw his tea all over him. Who does he think he is judging me? He doesn’t know me and he never will if I have anything to do with it.
‘Tell me,’ he raises his eyebrows, ‘What was his name?’
‘It's....it’s....none of your business,’ I stay stiffly.
I storm out of the room, trying to ignore him smiling happily away. What a smug bastard. I want to just punch him hard in the face. That would soon take that smirk off his stupid face.
I get changed as quickly as possible, putting on Jazz’s pink and blue wrap dress and black court shoes, as ordered by her last night. Well actually, at first she wanted me to wear her jungle dress which looks like it's made from leaves and trails on the floor after her as she walks. This was a compromise.
I try to forget all about Ryan, only next door. I mean, who the hell is he to judge me? He probably doesn’t even know how many people he’s slept with, let alone their names. He’s probably riddled with crabs and he doesn’t even know. Yes, crabs, I’ve decided. The thought of him with crabs makes me smile. He can be a smug bastard all he likes, but he’ll still have crabs, in my head.
The house phone rings, shaking me out of my thoughts. I open my door in case it’s Jazz for me.
‘Ryan!’ Izzy shouts down the stairs. ‘It’s for you.’
‘Thanks,’ he shouts back.
Who would want to call that jackass? Especially at this hour. I take my cup out to the kitchen and put it into the sink. Some unnatural urge makes me want to eavesdrop on his conversation. Probably some tart. Probably a booty call. I fuss around, pretending to look for something in the cupboard, while all the time trying to tune my ears into what he’s saying.
‘Yeah, you’re right...I know....I’ll come see you soon...yeah, I miss you too...ok, love you.’
Love you? God, he really is a player if he’s telling them he loves them. What a bastard. I doubt Jazz has it all wrong and he’s actually got himself a girlfriend. I can't imagine anyone wanting to spend more than an hour with him. He looks up and catches me staring at him. Shit. I snap myself out of it and turn, quickly trying to leave the room.
‘Ow!’ I yelp, banging my leg on the kitchen table. Why can I never just make a dignified exit?
‘Are you ok?’ he laughs.
‘Yes, of course!’ I shriek unnaturally. ‘I was just, um...’