Chapter Fifteen Clara
Chapter Fifteen CLARA
I take a deep breath, trying to steady the pounding in my chest.
‘Are you going to knock or what?’ Buffy’s annoying voice booms over my shoulder.
‘Yep,’ I confirm, my voice high and scared. I raise a hand to the knocker – and then let it fall away.
‘Shall I do it for you, sweetheart?’ Mum offers nicely and I want to scream at her that I’m not a fucking child any more. But also, I would actually really like my mummy to do this for me because I’m scared.
‘We’ve only got the van until five,’ Harry points out unhelpfully from the back as Angela pipes up with one of her facts.
‘Did you know our days are getting longer because of the moon? Every year we pull another inch and a half away from its gravitational pull, which is slowing down the earth’s spin. So each century our days get an extra 1.09 millisecond of length.’ She pauses. ‘Approximately.’
The others ooh and aah as I tut. It’s so annoying that I’ve had to bring all of this lot with me.
I wanted my first meeting with my soulmate to be romantic and intimate – not surrounded by idiotic family members shouting about the moon.
The trouble is, I need them. I’m here ostensibly because I’m buying a chest of drawers from a stranger on Facebook.
I’ve been discussing the ins and outs on Messenger with ‘M’ for two weeks, and he insisted I’d need a van, plus a few hands to help carry the furniture.
I brighten, considering this. Maybe it’ll actually work out well. This lot can deal with loading up the chest of drawers while I focus on flirting with Milo.
‘Just knock already!’ snarls Buffy, and I do so immediately, genuinely a bit frightened.
I hear movement inside and prepare myself, tugging at my collar to allow for maximum cleavage.
The door opens and my breath catches…
It’s not Milo.
It’s a woman. ‘Hi!’ she says warmly, taking in the small, eclectic group. ‘I’m Amanda! You’re here to collect the drawers, right?’
I blink at her, fighting tears. Where’s Milo?
She frowns at my silence. ‘Er, Clara? No?’ She laughs nervously. ‘Sorry, I was expecting someone to pick up some furniture.’
Harry steps forward. ‘Sorry, yes, we are here for the drawers. That is Clara, she’s just’ – he side-eyes me – ‘shy?’ I nod dumbly, trying to swallow my disappointment. He could still be here.
I take in Amanda. She’s pretty. But not the mysterious dark-haired woman I’ve seen Milo with in pictures. Girlfriend? Sister? Friend?
‘I’m Clara,’ I say at last, and she smiles at me.
‘Oh great! Come in. It’s through here.’ She leads us down a wide hallway, glancing back. ‘I’m so glad you brought help, I did mention its size, right?’ She looks at me nervously and I wave her concern away, clearing my throat.
‘So, it’s your chest of drawers, is it?’ I ask innocently, and Harry shoots me a look. ‘Or is it… someone else’s?’ Maybe that wasn’t the most subtle of openings but c’mon!
‘Um, yeah, it’s mine,’ she replies, then laughs. ‘Well, yours now, I guess.’ She stops in a large open plan kitchen diner and points across the room. ‘There.’
Oh fuck.
It’s fucking massive. Like, the biggest chest of drawers I’ve ever seen in my bloody life. I didn’t even know they made them this big.
I glance anxiously at Mum, Angela, Harry and Buffy, who are all staring with horror at this Range Rover of a chest of drawers.
‘It’s, um, lovely,’ I offer. Shit, I really should’ve paid attention to the measurements.
I exchanged a lot of messages with ‘M’ over the last couple of weeks, and they kept flagging centimetres, but measurements don’t really mean much to me, so I didn’t give it any thought.
‘Great!’ I swallow hard. ‘Let’s, um, get this in the van then.’ I wave at it and the group moves with misery towards the 800-stone item.
‘So…’ I clear my throat, watching them begin the struggle. ‘Amanda, um, who… er, where is the person I have been messaging with? Um, Milo Samuels, wasn’t it? I think? Maybe that was their name?’
She frowns, looking confused, before her face clears. ‘Oh! No, Milo’s my brother. I was using his Facebook account to sell this. I don’t have a profile anymore, and he said Marketplace was the way to go. But it was me you were messaging!’
‘No!’ I say too strongly. ‘It was an M .’
She looks a little alarmed. ‘Er, yeah, Mandy. Amanda – Mandy. Sorry for the confusion.’
Fuck. OK, so Milo is her brother. This could still work. I just need to befriend this woman and get in with her family. This is actually way better! What lad doesn’t fancy his sister’s hot friends, right?
Across the room, Buffy is snarling at everyone as they inch the furniture monstrosity at a snail’s pace towards the exit.
‘Oh I see!’ I grin. ‘Totally get it.’ I pause, searching for a subject. Something we can bond over. Something that will instantly make her want to be my pal.
The group makes it to the door with the chest. They’re all red-faced and sweating. ‘PIVOT,’ Harry shouts, looking around expectantly but no one reacts. His smile falters. ‘From… Friends ?’ he adds but still no one laughs.
‘Ha,’ I offer him politely, turning back to my new best friend. ‘So Amanda – um, Mandy – why are you getting rid of it anyway, when it’s so… so, um, lovely?’
She sighs, looking unhappy. ‘I’ve just broken up with someone and I’m selling all their stuff.’
There. There it is. I know we can be best friends now. Bitter women mid-break-up are my forte. I can’t tell you how many best friends I’ve made in club loos.
‘Oh babe, that sucks, you poor thing. Exes are the worst,’ I say and she gives me a look. For a moment I think I’ve crossed a line, but then her face crumples and she bursts into tears.
‘I hate him so much!’ she wails, and I open my arms, folding her sobbing body into my chest.
‘Shush, shush, it’s OK, Mandy love,’ I say kindly, rubbing her back as she weeps. ‘I get it. They’re the absolute worst.’
‘He’s ruined my liiiiiiiiiife,’ she cries into my shoulder, and I nod.
‘I know, I know,’ I tell her as loud grunts echo from the doorway.
I lead Amanda over to the sofa and sit her down as she wails about always attracting arseholes.
I’m catching every other word or so between sobs, nodding and oohing at appropriate moments, wondering how quickly I can steer this in a useful direction.
From the hall, I hear Harry trying his PIVOT joke again and complaining when it falls flat. It sounds like they’ve nearly got it to the front door. Fair play, I thought it would take them hours. It’s now or never so I take a punt.
‘We should go for a drink and talk it all out,’ I offer, and she stops crying momentarily, regarding me with bleary eyes.
‘You–you’d be up for that?’ she asks all shuddery, shoulders up around her ears.
‘All my friends are sick of hearing about it and I just need to talk about it for a few hours, y’know?
Just go over the relationship in detail several times to understand where it went wrong.
Really examine the whole thing piece by piece. I just need to talk. ’
‘Mandy, babe’ – I take her firmly by the shoulders – ‘I’m totally up for that. I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together. How about this weekend?’ I pause, wondering how much I can push it. ‘Maybe your brother can join us? Y’know, as an extra shoulder for you to cry on?’
She cocks her head, eyes red and sore-looking. ‘That sounds really good, I’d like that. I guess I can ask Milo, too. He’s pretty busy at the moment, though.’
‘Oh yes?’ I say so goddamn innocently. ‘Why is that? Um, any particular reason why he’s so busy?’
‘Well,’ Mandy swipes at her eyes, ‘he’s actually—’
The front door bangs and Harry appears, sweatier than I’ve ever seen him. His thick hair is all mussed up – it suits him actually.
‘We’re done,’ he says breathlessly. ‘All loaded up.’ He pulls a face. ‘It only just fitted. Buffy’s going to have to sit on your lap.’ He pauses. ‘Did you know she wasn’t even born until years after Friends finished? Isn’t that horrifying?’
Oh god, she’s going to make sure I suffer for all of this.
‘I’d better go,’ I say apologetically to my new friend. ‘I’ll see you this weekend, though, yeah? You’ve got my number. You can talk it all out for hours and hours and hours.’ I grin. ‘And don’t forget about Milo, right? I’m sure he could do with a night off from all his… busy stuff.’
She nods, sniffing loudly. ‘Great, thanks, Clara, I can’t wait.
I really need this. I’ll see you to the door.
’ We file out and I lean in for another hug on her doorstep.
‘Oh!’ she pulls out, looking over my shoulder.
‘Here’s Milo now, actually. We can ask him about this weekend.
’ I spin around, my chest heaving. He’s here!
He’s here right now. It’s finally happening, this is it. The moment I’ve been— Oh, wait.
A man in a company-branded polo neck T-shirt approaches up the driveway. He’s close to fifty, sporting a goatee and holding a clipboard.
‘Milo!’ his sister greets him. ‘How was your day? Anyone pass or fail?’ She glances at me.
‘Milo’s a driving instructor! It’s his busiest season with all the teens rocketing towards the summer holidays.
’ She doesn’t wait for my underwhelmed reaction, turning back to the imposter.
‘Guess what, Milo! We’re going out this weekend for drinks with my new friend, Clara!
’ She gestures at me and he takes me in, stroking his pathetic attempt at a beard.
‘Sounds good to me,’ he says in a reedy, horrible voice, leering at my tits.
This is not my Milo Samuels. This man could not be less my Milo Samuels. Fucking Facebook! Fuck you, Zuckerberg!
‘Er, great!’ I say, walking backwards and making a run for the van. ‘We’d better get going now with our gorge new furniture. Honestly, the drawers are so gorge! See you both… er, really soon!’
‘See you at the weekend, Clara babe!’ Amanda calls out as we drive off slowly, weighed down by our gigantic, useless chest of drawers.