SOME KIND OF BLISS by Nan                                                               <<< part 11

PART 12 - DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE, DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WHY DON’T YOU JUST…ERRRR…

“Is that all?” he asks cheekily.
“What did you expect?” you say angrily, your voice letting him know that you know about his girlfriend. He sighs disappointedly and you smile to yourself.
You both stand there dumb-folded for a few minutes, not knowing what to say.
“Hey you two!” Nicky quips in, Rachel on his arm. You and James both smile, happy for the intervention.
Nicky gives you one of his signature grins and offers you his hand: “May I have this dance?” he say, mockingly.
“Why yes!” you reply in exactly the same manner.
The song is slow, Nicky pulls you in, your head resting on his chest (he’s a big boy!) and you realize that your little crush on him before is completely gone.
After all, Rachel is a lovely woman and will hopefully be a good friend. And it’s not like I think any less of Nicky, he’s as lovely as ever. You look up to see him grinning at you. Maybe even lovelier. You smile and continue dancing. Besides, he’s not James, is he?
The thought is out before you realize it. You can feel your cheeks flush – angry with yourself for being such a sucker. He breaks your heart, you don’t see him for ages and when you finally do he’s with someone else!
Suddenly Nicky pulls away and you look up – James is cutting in. Nicky looks at you to see if it’s alright, but you’re to surprised to even react, James pushes in between you and takes you in his arms, holding you so close, you can’t help yourself but melt into him, silently praying the song is over before you do something you’re going to regret.
“She doesn’t mean anything to me, you know” he whispers into your ear, his breath is hot.
You don’t say anything, just keep on dancing, James starts rubbing his stubble against your cheek, and he knows you can’t resist it.
“I’ve missed you”
Turning away from him angrily you make your way to the kitchen, you need a drink. Finally fishing out a half empty bottle of vodka you sit yourself up on the counter just as James comes racing after you. You don’t even look at him.
As his hand gently brushes your thigh you finally lose it:
“Fuck off James, just leave me the fuck alone” you look at him straight in the eye,
if looks could kill James, if looks could kill
He looks at you completely shocked: “Baby?”
“What fucking right do you have to come back here, ha? You bloody broke up with me, so what we have the same friends, it’s obvious we’re going to see each other every once in a while, but it doesn’t mean you have a right to do this to me!” you start to sob and get up, placing your glass on the counter, not even looking at him as you collect your coat and make your way to your aunt’s house.
Cardiff proves to be a goldmine though. It’s got everything you need to keep your mind off everything and anything unpleasant.  You’re just making your way through Roath Park when….
“Excuse me, miss?” you turn around to see a man looking at you, but you’re too lost in thought to pay too much attention.
He probably wasn’t talking to me anyway…
“Miss?” you feel a hand on your shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Is this yours?” you finally take notice of the book he’s waving in front of your face.
“Why yes! I must have left it behind…”
“Well, you seem to have your mind full of other things!” he notes.
“Hm?”
“You just seem very thoughtful”
“Oh, yes, I was just….” You stop yourself. He really doesn’t need to hear what you’ve been thinking about, “erm, thank you for the book” you suddenly feel like company: “Can I buy you a cup of coffee? To say thanks?”
“Sure”
Two hours later you’re still chatting to Simon about footy and you’re bored stiff, but you don’t want to go home and/or be alone, so you pretend to be paying attention.
“And then Beckham just made this brilliant move…” you try not to yawn, but you can’t help it. Looking at Simon, you’re really sorry if you’ve offended him, but he’s just grinning.
“Tired?”
No! Bored! “Yes,” you whisper sheepishly.
“Yeah, it’s late. Let me just get the check and I’ll walk you home, ok? Ok.”
Walk me home? Where did he get that idea? Oh, he must have mistaken my sleepy head nearly hitting the table for an actual nod! Why the hell would I want him to walk me home, he’s dead dull! Although…guess it’s better than feeling sorry for my poor self and moping about all night...
“Ready?”
Walking up to your door, you keep wrecking your brain for something to say to chase him off. Praying that your uncle will be up and scare Simon away like he did every other date when you were younger. But all the lights are out, the street is quiet, moonlight… You find yourself wishing there was someone else standing opposite you.
Please don’t kiss me goodnight, please don’t kiss me goodnight…
As Simon bends down to do just that, you turn your head and his lips land on your cheek.
That ought to give him a good hint!
“Well, goodnight” you open the door and slam it behind you as fast as you can, followed by a barely audible “Goodnight” from Simon.
The next morning you wake up with a splitting headache. And you didn’t even drink that much.
Actually, now that I think about it, I must have dawned one or two bottles of Chardonnay all on your own. Makes football conversations so much more interesting.
You make your way downstairs to get a cup of coffee (or four) when you run into your aunt making lunch in the kitchen.
“Morning” you croak.
“Morning? More like ‘Good afternoon’, dear!” she says with a smile.
“How late is it?” you ask, pouring yourself a strong coffee, glancing at the clock.
Two in the afternoon?!? I need to sit down!
Your aunt smiles and hands you the morning paper. You glance through the last page before turning it around to see the front cover and get the shock of your life: huge picture of James and Dentist Girl.
God, could my day get any worse? They’re getting married, aren’t they? You glance at the headline:
“MY STEAMY NIGHTS WITH MANIC JAMES”
“Aspiring model Kelly Barlow spills the saucy secrets of one of the most eligible bachelors in Britain…”
You’d read enough. First you chuckle at her ‘career’, when you realize just how hurt James will be by this. You grab the phone off the wall, when your aunt suddenly interrupts you:
“Oh, by the way, I forgot. Simon called”
Big headache! “I told him you were not available and he said he just rang to make sure you were still on for dinner tonight” ‘meaningful look from aunt’ “and that he’d meet you in front of Guido’s at seven.”
You sink down on your chair. Were you so out of it last night that you didn’t even realize telling him you’d go out with him again? You look at the receiver in your hand.
“Did he leave a number?”
“No, sorry – and I didn’t ask, I thought you’d know.”
“Hm,” you put the phone down and start to make your way up the stairs to take a hot shower. Maybe you’ll feel better afterwards.
Oh, I forgot about James! You turn and walk back down.
“Oh, did you forget something?”
”Yeah, I just have to make a phone call” you inform your aunt.
“I just wanted to tell you dear, Simon sounds really nice. I’m so glad you found someone who’ll treat you right. Not some exploiting…” her eyes fall to the newspaper. You blush slightly, knowing that she’s right. Not about Simon being nice, but about James.
He doesn’t deserve me anyway. If only he knew what was good for him...
“Well, I’ll just ring Rachel to see if she wants to meet me for lunch. That’s alright with you, isn’t it?”
Your day goes pretty well: shopping, lunch, girl talk…but you can’t help always having two thoughts in the back of your head: James and the dreaded dinner with Simon – not necessarily in that order. And as a consequence, you’ve spent the whole day getting plastered out of your tiny little brain and leaving your mobile at home in case you got the urge to ring that all too familiar number.
It’s already half past seven when a taxi stops in front of Guido’s restaurant in the centre of Cardiff, and Simon steps out. You look him directly in the eye, pissed off completely and dead set on making this a night he won’t remember fondly. “Hi, gorgeous”
“Hello, dickhead” he looks at you shocked.
Not to well equipped in the brain department, are we?
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“You’re late, I couldn’t go inside because I don’t know what name the reservation is under, and I’m fucking freezing” he takes your arm and leads you inside, softly grinning.
“Well, the reservation is for half past anyway. I thought I said half past. Didn’t I?”
“No. My aunt definitely said seven. And, well, I’m not sure what time we said we’d meet last night…”
“That’s because we didn’t”
“What do you mean?” you sit down at the table.
”We didn’t make plans. I really wanted to see you again”, Simon takes your hand in his,” but I wasn’t sure you’d feel the same way. So I just rang. I knew you didn’t have my number, so you couldn’t cancel”
What a prick!
You don’t want to look him in the eye just in case you’d developed the power to kill people with just the look in your eye.
Not that I wouldn’t want to kill him, it’s just that I don’t want to go to jail, you think to yourself as you start looking for the most outrageously expensive meal on the menu.
After figuring out that spaghetti was not a good choice (but how were you supposed to know that the sight of over cooked macaroni hanging from your mouth turns some people on?) you drink more red wine than you thought it was possible for you to handle. Simon starts talking about football again, so you decide to flirt with the hunky waiter. Simon doesn’t seem to take notice. The evening seems to pass sooner than usual, as by ten, Simon has already got you unlocking the front door and in your drunken state you pull him in with you, nearly falling over the settee.
Giggling uncontrollably you hear three sets of footsteps getting louder and louder.
“Oh my” gasps your aunt, obviously shocked. You uncle uses his usual technique of denial as he makes his way back to the kitchen, mentioning something about coffee – he’d know you were drunk before you did.
You gently push Simon away, trying to see who the third person is. Seconds later you wish you’d pulled Simon on top of you and you would have even had your wicked way with him if it meant not realizing who it was.
“Um…er…thank you for the coffee ma’am. I think I’ll be on my way now.” James turns to leave and you brutally push Simon off, he lands on the floor with a big thump (
evil) as you run after James.
“James, wait”
”For what? Is there anything you have to say to me?!?”
You just look at him, at a lack for words.
“Hm, well, you should obviously have a lot to say, and a whole lot more to DO, seeing as you find it appropriate to bring first dates into your house…”
“James, please”
“For…um…what was it? Coffee?!? Oh yes, he looks like the type of man who enjoys a nice hot CASUAL cuppa. Well I’ll tell you something sweetheart, if I’d known that what you really wanted was a fuck-me-and-leave-me type of thing, I would have fucked you the day I met you and never given you another thought!”
Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve slapped him across the face. A bit more harshly then you would have hoped, but he deserved it. James gives you the dead eye (he is Sean’s cousin, after all), turns on his heel and walks away. You curse yourself for doing it.
Turning towards the house you notice Simon walking your way. An image flashes before your eyes: ten years on, tiny and smelly apartment above a sleazy shop in Cardiff, the walls covered in football memorabilia and baby food. Your daughter screaming her head off while the infant splatters milk everywhere. Simon in front of the telly, watching ‘guess what’, calling you over to bring him a beer. Oh no, he wouldn’t notice that you can’t bend all the way down in the fridge because you’re eight months pregnant, would he?
You shake your head and snap out of it. It’s begun to snow and you feel immensely cold by the time you reach the house – after all, it is December.
“Hey, what was that all about?” Simon asks.
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
You walk in after him, knowing what you have to do now. After you’d sent Simon away, you call a cab and give him the address in Cardiff Bay. You close your eyes, trying to tell yourself that you have to do this, if you don’t it’s just going to come back to haunt you.
You reach James’ apartment on the top floor and stop to get your breath back and compose yourself before ringing the doorbell. No answer. Again. “James? Are you there? Please open the door, I need to speak to you!” There’s no reply, only a cold silence. You stumble back and lean against the wall, letting your body slide down until you’re sat on the ground.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea? Before you know it, you’re making a pros and cons list of what the fuck you’re doing there. Just when you’re thinking that joining a convent isn’t such a bad idea after all, you hear someone walking up the stairs. A girl giggling. The sound of keys. A zipper. Nowhere to hide. I hope they don’t see me. This is so embarrassing. You slide your body as close to the wall as it will go, hoping that no one switches on the lights. Fuck!
James stumbles when he notices you. You can see he’s drunk out of his mind, which you know will work in your favour. At least in the long run. The girl looks at you, surprised, but ‘victorious’. She takes James’ hand and tries to lead him to the door, but he won’t budge. Your eyes are locked, neither of you says a thing until ‘she’ breaks the silence.
“James, come on!” he gives no sign that he’s even heard what she said.
You don’t know what to do. You desperately want to stay, but you don’t know if he wants you to or not. It all just gets too much, you stand up, get your bag and walk past her and try to get to the stairs. James moves in like a predator, corners you against a wall, his arm around your waist.
“Nicole,” he reaches in his pocket and gets out a tenner, “get a taxi home, will you?”
She shots him a look and tries to protest, but after another glance from James’ direction, she quickly gets the idea.
After neither of you can hear her heels echoing on the staircase anymore. James moves away from you. You still don’t know what to say, or do. His smell and his warmth have turned your brain into mush. James doesn’t look at you at all, just walks to the door, unlocks it and goes in, leaving the door open. Leaving the door open for you.


PART 13 >>>


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