Chapter 3
3
My plan to fill Sam in on the drama at the shop is derailed the moment I walk into our living room and find that we have a guest. A man is sitting on the sofa, looking very much at home with his legs crossed and his arms spread wide, resting on the seat back. He looks vaguely familiar but it takes me a minute to place him. When I do, my mood plummets. I may not have seen him for ten years, but he’s every bit as unwelcome now as he would have been then.
‘Peter Stockley?’ I ask, just to make sure I’m not seeing things.
‘The one and only, although my friends call me Pete now,’ he replies with a smile, making no effort to get up. ‘Nice to see you, Ruby.’
‘This is a surprise. What brings you here?’
‘Yeah, it’s a funny story, as it happens. I’ve recently moved back in with Mum and Dad after the taxman, well, I don’t need to go into the details of that. The point is that I bumped into Sam in the supermarket after work and we got chatting about this and that, reminiscing about the old days, you know how it is. Anyway, one thing led to another and I ended up asking her out for a drink. She’s just getting ready.’
This doesn’t make any sense to me and I’m struggling to digest it.
‘So you just bumped into her quite by chance and, even though you haven’t seen her in, what, ten years, you instantly recognised each other and struck up a conversation?’
‘That’s pretty much the size of it, yeah.’
‘But Peter, Pete, whatever you’re calling yourself now, you barely spoke to her when we were at school. What you did say wasn’t very complimentary, from what I remember. Didn’t you used to call her “Ginger minge”?’
‘It was a term of affection,’ he counters smoothly.
‘I’m not sure Sam saw it that way.’
‘Well, it’s all water under the bridge, isn’t it? It was ten years ago, Rubes.’
‘It’s Ruby,’ I tell him firmly.
‘Didn’t I have a nickname for you too?’ he asks. ‘Hang on, it’ll come to me.’
He’s totally oblivious to my death stare as he tries to remember.
‘Got it!’ he exclaims. ‘Here comes Rubes, with her monster pubes. God, those days were funny, weren’t they? So much banter.’
‘That’s certainly one way of looking at it,’ I tell him coolly. ‘I’ll just go and check on Sam for you, see how she’s getting on.’
‘No worries,’ he says with a grin. ‘I know how you ladies like to look your best for the fellas.’
* * *
Sam is standing in front of her wardrobe in her knickers and bra, obviously trying to choose an outfit, when I burst into her room without knocking.
‘What the bloody hell is Peter “hands on” Stockley, the biggest pervert in our year, doing in our living room?’ I ask her incredulously. ‘Have you lost your mind?’
‘It is a bit weird, isn’t it,’ she agrees calmly. ‘But he gave off a very different vibe when I bumped into him. Much more grown up, I thought. His previous relationship ended badly, and I think it’s forced him to look at himself a bit. Anyway, he seemed nice, so when he asked me out for a drink, I decided to say yes. It’s not like I’ve had any luck with the apps, is it? Maybe meeting someone in real life is the way to go.’ She holds up two summer dresses. ‘Which do you think? The yellow or the blue?’
‘Blue. But Peter Stockley, Sam? Have you forgotten the crude nicknames he gave to pretty much every female in our year, or the way he’d position himself to try and see up our skirts when we were playing hockey? The way he’d “accidentally” rub up against us in the lunch queue, or stare down our tops when we were sitting down and he walked past? In fact, didn’t he drop a pencil into Verity Smythe’s cleavage once and try to retrieve it?’
‘Yeah, but all the boys were a bit like that, weren’t they? He was just a bit more “out there”. Anyway, he’s ten years older now, so it seems fair to give him a second chance. I’m only going for a drink with him, Ruby. I’m not marrying him.’
‘I know,’ I tell her, trying to sound more conciliatory. ‘But I also know you. You’ll be happily ignoring the fact that he appears to talk almost exclusively in clichés because you’ll be too busy looking for every positive, even the faintest spark. And then, when he starts groping you under the table?—’
‘He won’t grope me under the table. I told you, he’s changed.’
‘I bet he hasn’t,’ I murmur.
Her eyes narrow. ‘OK then, since you’re so sure, you’re on. What’s the stake?’
‘Dinner at The Mermaid,’ I say after thinking for a moment. The Mermaid is a beautiful four-star art deco hotel that’s recently been completely renovated, and the food there is to die for.
‘Oh, you’re confident. Fine. How do we determine who’s won?’
‘I’m relying on you to be honest. Any funny business or pervy remarks and I win. He has to be a perfect gentleman, all right?’
‘Deal.’
I’m feeling pensive as I rejoin Peter Stockley in the living room. He hasn’t moved and looks every bit as relaxed as when I left him. I’m convinced he won’t have changed, but how to get him to reveal his true colours to Sam before it’s too late and she inevitably falls for him? As it turns out, I don’t need to do anything, as I’ve barely sat down in the armchair furthest away from him when he starts to speak.
‘Before Sam comes out, I wonder if I could ask you a “delicate” question?’ he begins, making air quotes with his fingers as he says the word ‘delicate’.
Frankly, I’d rather not have any conversation with him at all, let alone let him ask me any questions, but I realise I might learn something useful.
‘Of course,’ I tell him. ‘Ask away.’
‘Is it true that when women live together, their monthlies sync up?’
What the hell?
‘I have no idea,’ I say curtly. ‘Why on earth would you want to know something like that anyway?’ I happen to know that Sam’s and my cycles are aligned, but there’s no way I’m sharing that fact.
‘I thought you might be able to help me out, that’s all.’
This conversation is becoming increasingly bizarre. ‘How did you figure that out?’
‘Well, Sam and I are going for a drink, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘But it might be just a drink, or it might be a drink and more.’
‘More?’
‘Come on, Rubes, we’re both adults and you know what I mean. The point is that it would be really handy to know what stage of her monthly Sam’s at. If she’s got the painters in, I won’t get my hopes up, but if she’s, you know…’
I’m stunned.
‘Let me just check if I’ve got this straight,’ I say slowly. ‘You want me to tell you what stage of my menstrual cycle I’m at, in case Sam is aligned with me, so you can work out whether you’ve got a chance of having sex with her tonight. Is that right?’
He looks absolutely delighted. ‘You’ve hit the nail on the head.’
Shit, I should be recording this. Just that on its own would have been enough to get me a free meal at The Mermaid, I reckon, but it doesn’t count because Sam wasn’t here to witness it. I need to up the ante and hope she comes out soon.
‘I’m happy to inform you, Pete, that I’m not currently menstruating,’ I tell him. ‘Can I ask you a question now?’
‘Of course, I’m an open book. No secrets, that’s my motto.’
‘What is it that attracts you to Sam?’
‘What do you mean? She’s a good-looking bird, I mean, woman. Sorry, slip of the tongue. Ha, that’s a good one. Slip of the tongue, right? I might slip her a bit of tongue later, know what I mean? I’ve never had a redhead before. I wonder if the collar and cuffs match.’
He winks. He actually winks. Dear God, how much worse can this get?
‘Have you got a fella in tow?’ he asks while I’m still digesting his last set of bombshells.
‘I haven’t, as it happens. I’m not in the market.’
‘Really?’ His gaze rakes appraisingly over me, making me feel mildly nauseous. ‘I’m surprised to hear that, Rubes, I really am. You’ve grown into yourself since I saw you last, and I don’t mind telling you that you’re a bit of a stunner yourself these days. Tell you what, if things don’t work out with Sam, maybe you and I?—’
‘No, thank you,’ I say firmly, cutting him off.
‘Oh, I get it,’ he says after a brief pause, his mouth curving into a lascivious smile. ‘You’re a vagitarian.’
‘A what?’
‘You don’t like the male meat, you’re a rug muncher, a bean flicker. Tell me, have you and Sam ever… you know?’
Before I have an opportunity to tell him exactly what I think of him, his misogynistic terminology and his general demeanour, Sam appears. She’s made a real effort, and my heart goes out to her because it’s clear to me that the only way Peter Stockley has changed is that he’s become even more brazen.
‘Wow,’ Peter says when he sees her, smoothly changing tack from pervert to charmer. ‘You look stunning, Sam. Any guy would be proud to be seen out with you, so I feel very lucky.’
She shoots me a triumphant ‘told you so’ look, before turning to address him.
‘I’ve had this dress for ages, it’s nothing special,’ she tells him modestly.
‘It really suits you, brings out the colour of your eyes,’ he replies, and I’m horrified to see that she’s actually buying his bullshit, as she smiles at him. I need to warn her about the person he really is, and fast.
‘Sam, can I borrow you for a minute before you disappear?’ I ask her, taking her hand and leading her into the kitchen.
‘I’m really sorry, Sam, and this has nothing to do with our bet,’ I tell her quietly when I’m sure we’re out of earshot. ‘He hasn’t changed at all; in fact, I think he’s worse.’
I fill her in quickly on the details of my conversation, finishing with his unanswered question about whether the two of us ever got it on.
‘You’re kidding,’ she says in horror when I finish. ‘But he was so nice earlier.’
I need to draw him out with Sam in the room, I realise, beginning to wrack my brain for a plan. But Sam is quicker than me.
‘Do you mind if we do a role play so I can double-check your story?’ she asks. ‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that The Mermaid is expensive, so I’d like a bit of corroborating evidence before I kick him into touch.’
‘What did you have in mind?’
‘Just go with it. We’re going to set Pete a little test.’
I follow her out into the sitting room, where Pete is still looking completely relaxed.
‘Sorry about that,’ Sam says smoothly to him. ‘Ruby was just in a bit of a fluster because you’d cottoned on to our little sapphic secret. You don’t mind, do you?’
He looks like Christmas has come.
‘Mind?’ he says. ‘Of course not. Actually, I think it’s hot.’
‘Do you? So many boys are threatened by it, but it’s just a bit of fun, isn’t it, Ruby?’
‘Absolutely,’ I concur. ‘I’m sure you know what it’s like, Pete, when two women share a flat and hit the peak of their cycle together with no man around. And, as I’ve often said to Sam, who knows how to please a woman better than another woman? In fact, if you like, I can teach you a few tricks that I know drive Sam absolutely wild. You know, in case you get lucky later.’
‘Would you?’ He’s leaning forwards and practically salivating. ‘I’m not very good at following verbal instructions, so you might have to, ah, show me.’
‘Are you saying you’d like to watch us?’ Sam asks, widening her eyes.
‘Fuck yeah,’ Pete practically bellows, all pretence now out of the window.
‘Wouldn’t you find that difficult though?’ she persists. ‘Watching and not joining in?’
‘As long as I could, you know, touch myself.’
I’m slightly sick in the back of my throat, but force myself to keep smiling.
‘He could join in, I suppose,’ Sam says thoughtfully, as if she’s really considering it. ‘What do you think, Ruby?’
‘It might liven things up,’ I say, trying desperately not to let any images form in my head. I’ll throw up if they do.
‘Oh, fuck, this is better than my wildest dreams,’ Pete exclaims enthusiastically, grabbing his trousers. ‘I’m hard already.’
‘I see,’ Sam says, her voice suddenly dripping with disapproval. ‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Pete, but neither Ruby nor I are lesbians, we’ve never got it on, we won’t be getting it on tonight and you most certainly won’t be joining in. In fact, I think it’s time for you to leave.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me,’ she tells him, her tone now icy. ‘I’d like you to leave, please.’
‘That’s not fair. You led me on!’
‘No. I stupidly allowed myself to believe that you’d grown up and changed. I wanted to believe that, even when Ruby filled me in on your frankly disgusting conversation with her. Our little charade just now was a test, and you failed it spectacularly. Goodbye, Pete.’
‘But I can’t go out with this.’ He stands and indicates the bulge in his trousers.
‘Not my problem,’ she tells him as she stalks out into the hallway and opens the front door. ‘Off you go, and don’t come back.’
‘Fine. Have it your way,’ he says furiously as he heads for the door. ‘Your loss.’
I smile as a quote from Jane Austen comes to me. ‘I dare say we will be able to bear the deprivation,’ I tell his retreating form.
‘Fucking cock-busting lesbians!’ he yells furiously as he storms off down the pavement.
‘Have a nice life!’ Sam calls after him before shutting the door and turning to me. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she says.
‘I’m the one who’s sorry,’ I tell her. ‘I know how much you wanted him to have changed.’
‘Yeah, well. Aren’t I the fool. I’ve literally scraped the bottom of the barrel now. Maybe it’s time to give up.’
‘Your Prince Charming is out there, I’m sure of it. He’s just not called Peter Stockley.’
She giggles. ‘We’ll have to call him Threesome Pete from now on. What an expensive disaster.’
‘I don’t know, you got off lightly compared to what might have been.’
‘I wasn’t thinking about him, I’m thinking about the bet.’
‘You’re right,’ I tell her with a laugh. ‘You’d better give The Mermaid a call, hadn’t you.’
In light of tonight’s events, I’ve decided maybe it’s better not to tell her about my run-in with Jason. I don’t think that will do her self-esteem any good at all.
Somewhere out there, there has to be a man who deserves her, doesn’t there? I’m quite happy being single, but Sam isn’t cut out for it. Please, God, if you’re there, find her her person.