Worth Pursuing (2 page)

I stood completely still for several
seconds in the middle of Jay’s bedroom, staring at the empty bag and wondering what
the hell I was going to do. I’d
have
to talk to Jay. I had no phone and
no money. I didn’t really even know where I was. We’d walked back to his house
in a daze. I didn’t remember it being a long walk, though I seemed to remember
stopping once or twice, Jay pushing me up against a wall, his hands all over
me. I’d liked it at the time – I’d liked it a lot – but when I looked at him
now it just seemed surreal.

An idea suddenly struck me. I didn’t exactly feel great about it, but
it would get me out of my predicament. Jay’s jacket was hanging on the back of
the door. Perhaps if I just had a quick look, I might find his wallet. I wouldn’t
take much, only enough for a taxi home. I could see Jay’s phone on the
windowsill, I could use it to call a taxi and then grab my dress at the last
minute and get out of there.

‘I don’t normally do this,’ Jay
murmured to me. With one hand he was pushing my dress up, while with the other
he was trying to unlock the door to his room. I couldn’t help but laugh.

‘What?’ he said, ‘what’s funny?’

‘Nothing,’ I slurred, ‘it’s just... seems…’ I struggled to string the
words together, and eventually managed, ‘someone would only say that if they
did it… all the time.’

Jay watched me a moment, then abruptly he brought his hand up between
my legs and watched my response, clearly pleased with himself when my breath
caught in my throat and I made a little involuntary cry.

‘What can I say?’ he said, ‘maybe that’s why I’m so
good
at it.’
On the word "good" he managed to get the door unlocked and we half
stumbled, half fell through it.

My heart was hammering as I gently lifted
Jay’s leather jacket down from the hook on the back of the door. It felt pretty
heavy, so I was sure there was
something
in the pockets. I quickly
checked the two on the outside of the jacket, but found nothing. I glanced
across at Jay. He was facing away from me, the duvet still half covering his
head. I started to feel nervous. God knows what he’d say if he woke and found
me going through his pockets. I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath,
then I unzipped the inner pocket in the lining of the jacket.

To my embarrassment, I actually did
fall once we got inside Jay’s room. Somehow my foot turned as we came through
the door and I fell drunkenly to my knees, pulling Jay down with me.

‘Ow, fuck,’ I said, rubbing my ankle. But actually, it didn’t seem to
hurt that much, and I started to laugh. I watched as Jay shed his jacket and
his shirt. Then he started pushing me down onto the floor.

There were several things inside the
pocket, and I pulled out the first thing I got hold of, which felt like a
phone. I thought it was a little strange – his phone was on the windowsill, why
would he have two? But I didn’t dwell on it. In fact, I didn’t really look at
it straight away, until the colourful case caught my eye and then my mouth
dropped open. This wasn’t
his
phone, it was mine.

I quickly pulled out the other two
objects from his pocket, one of which was my purse, the other a small
leather-bound notebook. I put the notebook down without giving it a second
glance and opened my purse, finding to my relief that my cards and cash were
still inside. I stared across at the figure in the bed. He’d
robbed
me!
He’d stolen my things himself, and then pretended to go and look for them. I
was so angry I almost went over and shouted at him, but I stopped myself. If he
had done that, who knew what he was capable of? I began to feel afraid, and I
wished like hell I’d never come back here with him. I glanced down at myself,
at his t-shirt that I was wearing. Maybe I could leave wearing that? My cheeks
started to burn at the mere idea of it. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. Having to
go home wearing last night’s dress wasn’t ideal, but it was infinitely
preferable to Jay’s t-shirt. I looked down at my belongings in my hands. I
couldn’t believe he’d taken them. Why? Had he thought it would make it more
likely I’d go home with him?
Had
it made it more likely? I picked up my
evening bag and put my things in it. It was time to go. I wouldn’t confront him
about any of it. I wouldn’t say I’d found my things. I’d just ask him for my
dress and go home. I took a step towards him and my eyes fell on the little
notebook.

He writes them all down. In a little diary.

I went out like a light. The last
drinks I’d had before we left seemed to catch up with me all at once, and I
fell into a thick, deep sleep the second I got into Jay’s bed. I was aware at
some point, I’m not sure how much later, that Jay still seemed to be awake and
the light was on. I think I slurred something to him before dropping off again,
and he whispered something back to me. It was impossible to be sure, perhaps
the whole thing was a confusing dream, but it certainly sounded like he’d said,
‘that’s right, Beth. Go back to sleep. I’ve got things to do.’

Name: Lucy

Appearance: + natural blonde, + nice teeth, – face not like Sammie’s,
body not like Sammie’s.

Background: No plus points. Too much friends and family.

In bed: Pretty crap.

Verdict: Total waste of time.

Name: Tara

Appearance: –not a natural blonde, +body like Sammie’s, stunning
long legs. –Weird tits.

Background: + just split up with long term boyfriend, seemed pretty
cut up about it.

In bed: Could tell she was thinking about her ex, her heart wasn’t
in it.

Verdict: better, but nowhere near my Sammie.

Name: Jade

Appearance: +natural blonde, +pale blue eyes, –too fat.

Background: +home life sounds like a car crash. Obviously likes to
drink. Maybe a bit too much.

In bed: surprisingly good

Verdict: Still not good enough.

There were pages and pages of it. I
flipped through in disgust, my eyes catching odd words here and there from his notes
about these women and his encounters with them. As time went on the
descriptions of what they did in bed became more explicit– practically
pornographic, and his notes were littered with him calling the women names. All
through the book he judged these women by the same categories. He seemed to be
obsessed with blondes, and compared every aspect of their appearance to "Sammie",
who apart from the fact that she must be blonde, I could understand very little
about. He favoured women who were isolated or distressed in some way,
delighting in those who were lonely or hurting, though his verdict was nearly
always some variation on "no". In fact, after one woman he was
clearly driven to the point of despair and had written NOONE IS LIKE SAMMIE.
NOONE! FUCKING NOONE! but then on the next page his diary continued in just the
same precise, controlled manner. The liaisons were dated, and went back years.
Sometimes there were quite long gaps between them, sometimes only a couple of
days.

My heart was hammering. I didn’t want to carry on looking, but my
fingers continued flicking through the pages as if by their own accord, until
they stopped on the last entry.

Name: Beth

Appearance: –not a natural blonde, +eyes remind me of Sammie’s, –not
like Sammie in any other way.

Background: +just lost her job, –close relationship with dad and
brothers.

In bed: nothing special.

Verdict: No.

At that moment I heard a noise. I
jumped and snapped the book closed, but it was too late. When I turned to look
at the bed, my eyes immediately met Jay’s, staring right back at me.

He was out of bed so quickly I
barely had time to think. Instead I stayed where I was, blinking stupidly, holding
the book in my hands. He snatched it away from me. ‘What the hell are you
doing?’ he shouted into my face.

‘Nothing,’ I said, backing away, ‘nothing—’

‘This is private!’ he said, holding the book up, ‘private!’ He gave me
a shove, ‘how did you find this?’ he asked me, ‘why were you going through my
things?’

‘I just want my dress,’ I said.

Jay glanced round at the bed, and he flashed me an unpleasant smile. ‘Oh,’
he said, ‘yeah. I bet you do.’

He made no move to go and get it and when I tried to get away from him
he grabbed me. I stared at him in shock. I didn’t remember him being like this.
I’d been drunk and upset but my judgement hadn’t been
that
clouded – I’d
thought he was
normal
at least. Looking at his face frightened me. He
didn’t even look
the way I remembered. In the cold light of day his face
was harsh, unkind, angry. His grip was hurting my arm. ‘Please,’ I said, trying
to reason with him. ‘I’m going. Just let me get my dress.’

‘No.’

I couldn’t hold my anger in any longer. ‘You
stole
my things!’ I
shouted at him, ‘and that notebook, it’s sick! You should be ashamed—’

‘You what?’ he said, shaking me, ‘you little skank! You go through my
stuff, then tell me
I
should be ashamed? What the hell were you looking
for anyway?’

An idea seemed to cross his mind, and all of a sudden he gave me shove
so hard I staggered across the room towards his bed, while he quickly picked
his jeans up from the floor and pulled them on, never taking his eyes from me.
He took his wallet from one of the pockets and held it up. ‘Were you looking
for this?’ he asked me. ‘Is this what you wanted? Cash? You want
paying
do
you?’

‘Jay,’ I said slowly, ‘I… I’m sorry, about going through your stuff. I
felt… I mean, I just wanted to go home. And yes, I was looking for money, but
only enough for a taxi. I wasn’t meaning to pry, and I don’t want any trouble—’

‘Here,’ he said, throwing a few notes at me. ‘Here’s your money. It’s a
fair bit less than the average rate, but you were a fair bit less
good
than
the average shag.’

I watched the notes flutter down to the floor at my feet.

‘Jay,’ I said again, ‘I really am…sorry if you feel I disrespected you.
But
you
took my things. Let’s… let’s just say we’re even, and you can let
me go home.’

He pushed me towards the bed. ‘Sit down,’ he said.

‘I don’t want to. I just want to go home. Please—’

‘No,’ he said, ‘you’re not going anywhere. You were happy enough to be
here last night. Now sit down.’

I did as he asked, folding my arms across my body, while he picked up
the little diary again and held it in front of me.

‘What do you think this is?’ he asked.

I didn’t answer. I was beginning to shake.

He took hold of my shoulder. ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘You were so curious
about it, so let’s talk about it. What do you think it is?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said.

‘You don’t know? You were reading it, weren’t you?’ He raised his
voice, ‘How can you—’

‘It…it’s a list!’ I said quickly, desperate to calm him down. ‘A list
of women you’ve slept with.’

He threw the book down. ‘Wrong!’ he shouted, ‘try again.’

‘I… I… I don’t know. I really don’t know—’

‘They’re comparisons!’ he said, ‘can’t you read? I’m comparing them. To
Sammie.’

There was a pause.

‘Well?’ he said.

‘Well…what?’ I asked tentatively.

‘Ask me who Sammie is.’

‘Who… who’s Sammie?’

‘My girlfriend,’ he said. ‘I loved her, and she was stolen from me.’ He
paused a moment then raised his voice again. ‘Stolen!’ he repeated.

I looked up at him. His eyes were feverishly bright. Was there actually
something wrong with him? I needed to be calm and think carefully before I
opened my mouth, but it wasn’t easy to think.

‘You… you want to replace her?’ I said, then immediately regretted my
choice of words as Jay took a step towards me. ‘Replace her,’ he said softly. ‘You
think she’s replaceable, do you?’

‘I…’ I struggled for the right answer, ‘no,’ I said, ‘no… I… I guess
not.’

‘You think I’d replace her with you?’

‘I… no,’ I said, ‘no.’

‘Good,’ he said, ‘I’m glad you realise that much.’ He laughed. ‘You!’
he said, ‘you’re not even fit to say her name.’ He laughed to himself again,
and then abruptly moved on. ‘I’ve
found
my “replacement”
,’
he
told me. ‘Did you see? I found her last week.’

I shook my head.

He picked the book up. ‘See, you…
you
really were meaningless. I’ve
already found the woman I want. I didn’t even care that much one way or the
other if I got a shag off of you. That’s why I took your stuff. Never tried
that before, but I figured either it would work really well or not at all, and
I didn’t care that much one way or the other.’

‘Jay,’ I said, my voice much calmer than I felt. ‘I want to go home.’

‘Now this,’ he said, opening the book and holding it in front of me, ‘this
is the girl for me: Felicity.’

I read the notes on Felicity obediently, and then raised my eyes to his
over the top of the page.

‘What do you think?’ he asked.

‘She sounds nice,’ I said, figuring it was what he wanted to hear. In
reality, her notes were much like the others – disgusting comments divided into
his chosen three categories. The only difference was she seemed to satisfy his
criteria far better than any of the others, and many of his comments were
glowing – his conclusions making him so excited that some of it was written in
capitals with exclamation marks after.

Jay put the book back down and watched me. ‘So, you want to go home?’

‘Yes.’

Jay picked up my dress and held it in front of him, gripping it with
both hands at the top.