Chapter 2
‘Please tell me you’re kidding.’ Rosie’s voice is horrified as she stares at me from the other end of our slightly threadbare but very comfortable sofa.
When the three of us first moved to London, it was a no-brainer that we’d share a flat and, when Priya moved out a couple of years ago to be with Martin, we were inundated with people wanting to move into her room, eventually deciding on Sophie, who works in recipe development for a major supermarket chain.
‘I wish I was,’ I moan. Although I’m feeling considerably more human after a long shower and some heavy-duty headache pills washed down with coffee and a carb-laden breakfast, the downside is that the events of last night have come back to me in vivid detail.
If I wasn’t still feeling a little delicate, the temptation to try to blot them out with vodka would be almost overwhelming.
‘You had sex with flipper Stuart?’ she asks, evidently struggling as much as I am with the concept.
‘Don’t keep repeating it,’ I tell her. ‘It’s bad enough that it happened at all; I don’t want reminders.’
‘But you hate him!’ she persists. ‘How long were you two together before he dumped you?’
‘Six months or so at uni, that’s all. And it’s ancient history. I haven’t seen him in years.’
‘Why was he at the nightclub?’
I sigh. ‘Pure bad luck on my part, from what I can work out.’
‘You mean it was a coincidence? Bloody hell. Talk about a small world. Why didn’t you just punch him in the face? Have you forgotten all that stuff he told you when you broke up about you being “a bit needy” and “not able to keep up with him sexually”?’ Her hands make air quotes as she speaks.
‘I was feeling magnanimous. You know what I’m like when I’ve got a few drinks inside me.’
‘Yeah, all the world is your best friend. It doesn’t alter the fact he basically called you frigid and demanding. Give the girl a glass or two of wine and everything is forgiven.’
‘I think I was working more along the lines of everyone deserving a second chance. People change. I know I’ve changed a lot since leaving uni. So no, I didn’t punch him in the face. I let him buy me a drink instead and we got chatting.’
‘It’s still a hell of a leap from “Hi, how are you” to jumping into bed with him.’
‘I know, all right? It wasn’t my finest hour.’
‘How did it happen?’
And that’s the one part of the jigsaw that still eludes me.
I asked myself the same question repeatedly as I did the walk or, in my case, Tube ride, of shame this morning.
Thankfully, being New Year’s Day, I didn’t stand out as there were plenty of other slightly dishevelled people still dressed in last night’s finery also making their way home.
I even exchanged a few meaningful glances with some of them as if to say, ‘No, I didn’t go home last night either. ’
‘I wish I knew,’ I tell her honestly. ‘A bit too much to drink, he was being kind and attentive, and I guess I just thought “why not?” when he invited me back. That part of the evening is still a little hazy.’
‘You’re a liability.’ Rosie sighs indulgently. ‘Next year, I’m going to chaperone you all night.’
‘You won’t need to. This is never happening again.’
‘Yeah, yeah, and I’m the Christmas fairy.’
‘I mean it. I’m going to be twenty-seven this year. I’m too old for this shit.’
She giggles. ‘How was the sex? Flipping disappointing?’
It was Priya who gave Stuart the nickname after I complained to her once about Stuart’s apparent determination to work his way through all the positions in the Kama Sutra whenever we had sex.
Every time I felt I was starting to get into the rhythm and enjoy myself, he’d interrupt the flow by demanding I shift or turn over.
The term ‘flipper’ comes from Priya’s remark that it seemed like he was just flipping me around like a burger and, unsurprisingly, it stuck.
‘Actually,’ I say carefully, ‘from what I can remember, that bit wasn’t too bad.
I think one of the people he dated after me must have explained the error of his ways to him.
’ I blush at the memory. He was actually very good, and I have a horrible suspicion that my booze-fuelled lack of inhibition meant that I was rather more noisily appreciative of his efforts than I would normally have been.
I’m not sharing that with Rosie though. I’ll never hear the end of it if I do.
There’s a short pause, and then she laughs again.
‘What now?’ I ask.
‘I was just thinking how you’ve certainly started the New Year with a bang.’
‘You’re funny,’ I tell her sarcastically. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘I’d say you’ve already done quite enough,’ she snorts.
‘Be serious for a minute.’
The pause this time is much longer, and I can almost hear her brain whirring as she considers different options.
‘Do you have to do anything?’ she asks eventually. ‘How did you leave things this morning?’
I blush again, remembering the garbled excuses as I frantically grabbed my clothes and locked myself in the bathroom while I tried to stuff myself back into them.
‘Honestly?’ I tell her. ‘It was one of the most awkward moments of my life, especially when Stuart banged on the bathroom door while I was in there because he wanted to pee. When I pointed out that I was getting changed, he laughed and said it wasn’t as if I had anything he hadn’t seen already.
I think he was honestly expecting to use the loo while I was still in there. ’
‘Ugh. There are some things you should definitely never share, no matter how close you are to someone. Anyway, what did you say to him when you left?’
I cringe again. ‘I thanked him for having me and said it had been nice to catch up.’
Rosie positively explodes with laughter. ‘What?’ I ask, irritated now.
‘Sorry,’ she gasps when she regains some control. ‘Only you could be so unfailingly polite.’ She loses herself once more in gales of laughter and I can’t help joining in, even though the joke is on me.
‘I’ve had a thought,’ she breathes a little while later. ‘You got it the wrong way round.’
‘How?’
‘He should have thanked you for having him, and you should have thanked him for coming.’ She emphasises the last word so I’m left in no doubt as to her meaning.
‘You’re disgusting, you know that?’
‘Hey, I’m not the one leaping into bed with old flames at the drop of a hat.
Anyway, back to the conversation. You thanked him for having you because you’d weirdly morphed from drunken sex goddess into some kind of Victorian maiden aunt who’s just had a lovely cup of tea with a friend.
Anything else? Did you swap numbers or make arrangements to meet up in future? ’
‘No and no.’
‘Then I’d chalk it up to bad experience and move on.’
‘You’re right. Thanks, Rosie,’ I tell her after giving it some thought. Nothing was said on either side to indicate that we planned to rekindle our relationship or even see each other again, so maybe it’s not as bad as I feared.
‘Hey, what are friends for?’ she replies warmly. ‘Although promise me one thing.’
‘What?’
‘Never, ever, say “Thank you for having me” to a sexual partner again.’
I laugh. ‘You’ve got a deal.’
We lapse into comfortable silence as she picks up the novel she’s currently reading and I turn on the TV.
As I search through the menu for something undemanding to watch, I reflect on her words and, the more I think about it, the more reassured I am.
This was a colossal mistake, but I might just have got away with it.
‘Rosie tells me you shagged Flipper last night,’ Priya remarks blandly when I call her later that day to thank her for the party. ‘What was that about?’
‘Bloody hell,’ I retort. ‘Is nothing sacred?’
‘Oh, come on. Do you seriously think she wouldn’t share such a juicy titbit with me?’
She’s got a point. The three of us have been friends for so long, I don’t think there’s anything we don’t know about each other, and I’d certainly be pretty miffed if the two of them kept something like this a secret from me.
‘So,’ she continues. ‘Tell all.’
‘It sounds like you already know everything.’
‘I know his technique has allegedly improved, which is a pity, because we’ll have to find another nickname for him now. Rosie said you met in XYX.’
‘I shouldn’t have gone. I don’t know why I do it to myself.’
‘You do it because you’re a relentless optimist, you adore New Year’s Eve and secretly wish it would never end.
It’s one of the things I love about you.
Everyone else peaks at Christmas, but that’s just a warm-up act where you’re concerned.
To misquote the incredibly irritating Wizzard song, you wish it could be New Year’s Eve every day. ’
I smile. ‘You’ve got me. It’s just a shame that the day after is literally the worst day of the year.’
Priya laughs gently. ‘This one certainly is, because you’ve got the added regret of your night with Flipper. What were you thinking?’
‘I don’t know. I think I was just a bit lonely and Stuart happened to be in the right place at the right time, saying the right things.’
‘Why were you lonely? I thought Sonya and Lily were there?’
‘I didn’t see Lily as she’d already gone home, but Sonya was there and, although I didn’t know any of them, there were a couple of other people in the group who were quite chatty.
The problem is that they were pretty much welded to the dancefloor and there’s only so much deafening techno music I can take before I start to get a headache, so I retreated to the bar area where it was quieter, and there he was. ’
‘You poor old lady. You could just have gone home.’
‘Yeah, but I’d prebooked my ride and I hadn’t got a hope of changing it, so I was kind of stuck.’
‘Stuck at the bar with Flipper. Sounds like a line from another song.’ She starts humming a tune.
‘What’s that meant to be?’ I ask after a while.
Priya has many talents but, despite her arguments to the contrary, she’s spectacularly tone deaf, so any tune sounds pretty much the same if she’s singing or humming it.
You can sometimes still guess the song from the rhythm, but that isn’t the case today.
‘“Stuck in the Middle With You”,’ she says, as if it’s totally obvious, before continuing in her toneless manner, ‘Techno to the left of me, Techno to the right. Here I am, stuck at the bar with Stu…’
‘You should be on TV with talent like that,’ I tell her sarcastically.
‘I know. What are you going to do about Flipper then?’
‘Rosie thinks I should just leave it. What do you think?’
‘I’d probably go a bit further and suggest you keep at least five miles between you and him at all times. He was a disaster when you two were going out, and I’m also pretty sure he was playing the field behind your back. He even came on to me once.’
‘Really? When?’
‘Pretty much the first time he met me.’
‘But that was only a week or so after we got together! Bastard. What did you do?’
‘I told him firmly that I was gay and, even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t go behind your back.’
‘What on earth possessed you to tell him that? You’re one of the most heterosexual people I know. In fact, weren’t you going out with Charlie then?’
‘I was,’ she says, sounding suddenly thoughtful.
‘He was a lovely boy, but I think I was a bit too much for him. I wonder where he is now? Anyway.’ Her voice returns to its usual brisk tone.
‘I told Stuart I was a lesbian because I thought it would get rid of him. As it turns out, I underestimated the sex pest. I think he actually found the concept a bit of a turn-on. Dirty sod.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything to me?’
She sighs. ‘I was going to, but it was one of those boozy college parties and I thought maybe he’d just been clumsily trying to pay me a compliment.
You were really into him, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and he never tried it again.
By the time we all realised what a lowlife he really was, it was a bit late to tell you.
It’s probably relevant now though, in case you’re falling for his alleged charms again. ’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I tell her firmly. ‘I’m not.’
‘Good,’ she says simply. ‘You deserve way better than him.’
When the call ends, I sit on my bed for a while, digesting the information Priya has just shared while drinking a cup of tea.
It’s clear that Stuart had the morals of an alley cat back then and I doubt very much that this particular leopard has changed its spots in the meantime.
One of the things I hate most about New Year’s is the whole New Year’s resolution thing, but I’m barely halfway down the mug before I’ve made one.
I’m taking Priya’s advice and never going within five miles of Stuart again.