Chapter Twelve
‘You never really wanted to go to Franco Manca!’ Sam hisses accusatorily. She’s being far too loud, so I yank her into a dark corner of the street, out of the path of drunk tourists. Andi and Jools join us, looking a bit baffled.
‘What’s going on?’ Jools raises an eyebrow.
‘Liv tricked us!’ Sam declares melodramatically, with more than a hint of excitement in her voice.
She jabs a finger in the direction of Justin and Orla, standing just outside a busy restaurant in a queue.
They’re laughing happily. I take them in as they stand there together, looking so natural and content.
I wince at the feeling of needles stabbing my insides.
Justin looks so clean. He was never that clean when we were together.
‘That’s her ex,’ Sam continues. ‘And his new girlfriend.’
‘Ooooh!’ Andi spins on her heel to take a better look, while Jools gives me a disapproving once over.
‘The silly boy from the TikTok video?’
‘That’s the one,’ I confirm shamefully. ‘Justin.’
‘You should’ve told me this was the plan!’ Sam complains, turning to face me. ‘You know I love shit like this. I would’ve been well up for it!’ She pouts. ‘I can’t believe you tricked us. I would’ve brought binoculars and some kind of listening device if I’d known.’
‘He’s better looking than I thought,’ Andi says, still craning to see. ‘He looked a bit… meh on TikTok.’
‘He was meh,’ I say fiercely. ‘But his new girlfriend has magically turned him into the perfect boyfriend.’
‘How did you know they’d be here?’ Sam says, sounding fascinated.
‘Orla was talking to a pal on Instagram,’ I explain, aware I’m about to sound demented, ‘in the comment section of her most recent post. She said her “new fella” ’—I pause to let the disgust wash over me—‘wanted to take her to this fancy new restaurant tonight, and her friend said it didn’t take bookings.
They recommended arriving by 7pm and being ready to queue. ’ I shrug. ‘I took a shot.’
‘But why?’ Jools frowns. ‘Do you want to get him back?’
‘Please say you don’t, Liv,’ Sam pleads. ‘We’ve just spent the last hour talking about orange flags, and it’s like you can’t see the flaming fireball that man represents. He is a walking orange flag. His mum still pays his rent, for fuck’s sake.’
Andi snorts at this.
‘But that’s the point, Sam.’ I shake my head.
‘You’re right, he was a walking orange flag, but now’—I wave in Justin and Orla’s direction—‘now he’s not!
He’s suddenly making all this effort and being the ideal man.
For her. For her! He apparently chose and arranged this date!
Look at how nicely he’s dressed! Look how clean he is!
Look at the shoes – he’s wearing socks, if you can imagine it, Sam!
And I bet they’re not filthy Christmas ones he found at the bottom of the laundry basket. ’
‘But he probably made an effort for you, too, didn’t he,’ Jools interjects, ‘at the beginning? They all start off making an effort.’
‘Nope. Never like that.’ I shake my head.
‘This is so different – he’s so different.
This is because of Orla.’ I stare at her across the way, laughing now with such ease.
‘What does she have that I don’t? What magical wand has this woman waved to make that useless boy-child over there suddenly become the dream man?
What has she said to change him from a guy who made me pay for my own birthday present because he was broke and who then went out and spent ￡160 on a hat because he saw Timothée Chalamet wearing one a bit similar?
’ I look between the three women, waiting for an answer.
I sigh. ‘So, no, Sam, I don’t want Justin back, but I do need to know this woman’s secret.
Otherwise, how will I ever meet someone decent? ’
Sam grimaces and Jools gives me a pitying look. Andi nods with determination. ‘I get it. I’ve been there. So, are we going over there to talk to them or what?’
That had been the plan. I’d wanted us to casually bump into the new couple in the middle of Soho.
I wanted to make Justin awkwardly introduce me to this goddess of a new girlfriend, so I could examine her up close.
So I could log whatever hypnosis she used.
So I could vampire suck the transformational energy from out of her very pores.
But now I’m here and they’re right there… and I don’t think I can. I can’t face them. It would be ridiculous. They’d think I was mad, especially after my recent online notoriety. Justin would probably make a run for it.
We should just go to Franco Manca after all.
‘They’re leaving!’ Sam hisses, as Jools pulls us all further into the shadows. Justin and Orla exit the queue, laughing again at the long wait and loudly agreeing they’re not even that hungry.
I shake my head. Justin was always goddamned hungry. I think the only reason we ever left the house for actual dates was because he liked to be fed so much and I’m an unbelievably crappy cook.
‘It’s now or never,’ Sam says, her voice all trembly with excitement as they pass by our dark nook. ‘Come on! Let’s say hello, Liv?’
I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and then—
‘I can’t,’ I whisper, and the group slumps into one another. There is relief pulsing from Jools, while Sam tuts, frustrated.
‘How about we just follow them instead?’ my best friend suggests happily, as Andi nods with enthusiasm. I had no idea Andi was so into drama. She and Sam should hang out more.
‘I feel like this night is going to end in multiple arrests,’ Jools murmurs, but the rest of us are already bundling our way down the cobbled streets.
We pass over Carnaby Street, cross Kingly Street, and find ourselves emerging, blinking, onto the bright lights of one of the busiest roads in London: Regent Street.
‘There they are!’ Andi yells way too loudly, pointing at a huge toy store front. Justin and Orla are walking into Hamleys.
‘What are they doing?’ I hiss. ‘Are they already planning on starting a bloody family together?’
‘You created this ridiculous situation,’ Jools reminds me as we creep inside, eyes peeled for the couple. ‘You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it.’
‘Well, that makes no sense,’ I retort, ‘Because a.) I never make my bed because what’s the point when you’re getting back in it a few hours later, and b.) I’d actually love to lie in it, thank you. Lying in beds is one of my favourite things to do.’
‘You win this round.’ Sam nods sombrely, as Jools points towards the up escalator. I can just make out Orla and Justin on there. They’re holding hands.
How sweet, I think for just a second. Then I remember that he’s ruined my life.
We stealthily make our way up to the third floor, where the lovebirds are browsing the Build-A-Bear Workshop area. They meander, chatting freely and laughing.
‘Jesus, they’re actually getting one,’ Jools says with awe, as Orla picks out the bear she wants.
‘Of course they are,’ I mutter furiously.
Justin mocked my childhood soft toy, Eeyore, endlessly.
He said it was a hilarious thing to have held onto, and in the end, I hid Eeyore away in a cupboard at the top of my wardrobe.
But for Orla? Sure, why not. Let’s get her a ￡40 customised teddy for no reason. I’d’ve loved a teddy.
We settle into a corner, partly hidden by a large stand of water pistols. Two kids run around us shouting at each other to take cover.
‘Ugh,’ Sam says with genuine disdain, watching the kids shriek and barrel into things.
‘Not a kid person?’ Jools asks with amusement, eyebrow raised.
Sam shakes her head. ‘I live by the advice given in every laundry detergent advert.’ She pauses. ‘Keep away from children.’
As Jools and Andi laugh, sharing war stories of their own offspring, I quietly watch Justin across the store.
I take in the familiar way he walks, the familiar way he smiles, the familiar way he brushes his hair back, away from his face.
He is still the same Justin, only… better.
Happier? Happier with Orla. Happier without me.
As I stare, he carefully picks out the bear’s outfit, showing Orla options and swapping in a cowboy hat for a beanie.
He selects adorable yellow dungarees, and I eye Orla now, as she laughs sweetly at his choices.
She laughs a lot, it seems, but not in an over-the-top, fake way.
She does it with her whole chest, completely un-self-consciously.
She is pure confidence, even here, in this silly, crowded, touristy place meant for children.
Justin reaches over and takes her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it.
It hurts. A lot.
How strange, I think, that he was mine so recently. That he could’ve kissed me like that.
Not that he would’ve.
I step back, almost into the path of the playing kids, who dodge around me like I’m part of an obstacle course.
I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have done this. I feel suddenly very silly indeed.
‘We should go,’ I whisper to the group, and they nod. We file away from the Build-A-Bear area quietly.
‘So, what did we learn?’ Sam asks when we’re far enough away.
‘Only that they’re clearly very happy together,’ I reply quietly.
‘That is a woman who is getting seriously laid,’ Andi whistles, as we file down the escalator.
‘Thanks for that,’ I reply mildly.
‘Sorry girl, but come on, have you seen a more obvious sex radiance? She is getting orgaaaaaasms.’
I snort. ‘I doubt it. Justin doesn’t like giving cunnilingus.’
The three of them stop simultaneously at the bottom of the escalator. Two teenaged girls behind us grunt and angrily move around the horrified group staring at me.
Sam’s whole face is twitching. ‘What?! Are you fucking serious? You never told me this.’
Jools regards me askance. ‘Er, Liv, sweetheart, isn’t one of your mottos, “Make sure he shows up for you and goes down on you”?’
I shrug. ‘Well, yeah, I mean, in an ideal world, of course. But you can’t have everything in a relationship can you? I’m thirty-one, the entire world is hassling me about when I’ll settle down and have a baby. You don’t get oral sex once you’ve had kids anyway, do you?’
‘She’s not wrong.’ Andi nods from the back of the group as Jools looks gloomy. They all regard me silently.
‘God, I’m so glad I fancy women too. Keeps my options open.’ Sam breathes out.
‘When did you say your next therapy session is?’ Jools asks nicely after a moment.
‘Monday,’ I answer a touch defensively, and they all nod.
Sam takes my hand, and we head for the store exit. ‘I think it’s time you started taking it more seriously, Liv. For real now.’
I sigh, admitting defeat as we exit the busy store, zigzagging around gaggles of yet more screaming children and harried-looking parents.
‘Fine,’ I say into the din. ‘I will. I promise.’