Chapter 7 #3
‘Maybe. Maybe not. I can’t remember.’ My head is fuzzy, like I’ve just woken up from a very deep sleep, I’m aware that I really should not have embroiled Marcus in my stupid lie, and I’m even more aware that my life is a complete disaster.
I just want to go to bed and stay there for a very long time.
‘Okay, it isn’t that cold. You can get it tomorrow.’
He’s wrong about it not being that cold. It’s been one of those gorgeous late September days where it’s actually really warm, so you wear quite summery clothing, and then late at night it’s absolutely bloody freezing and you really do need a coat if you’re out.
We walk in silence down Miranda and Rob’s long drive, while I add probable imminent hypothermia to my list of problems, until Marcus says, ‘You’re shivering,’ and takes his jacket off and hands it to me.
‘Oh no, I couldn’t.’ I don’t think I should be adding making him cold to the crime of forcing him to be my fake boyfriend in front of his children.
‘You could. I’m wearing a jumper too, look, and I’m a little too warm.’
‘Really? But it’s freezing.’
‘I’m a warm person.’ He holds his jacket for me so that I can slip my arms into it.
I am really cold and there’s only so much temptation one freezing person can take, so I decide to accept his offer.
‘Thank you.’ I put my arms into the jacket and then wrap it round me.
‘Wow, that’s so lovely and warm. You’re right.
You are a hot person. Warm, I mean. Not hot.
I mean, I’m not saying you aren’t hot, you’re obviously very handsome…
’ I tail off, thinking shut up to myself, and take a sideways look at Marcus and see that he’s sniggering.
‘Glad to be of service,’ he says.
I decide that saying nothing is for the best, and just smile and snuggle into the jacket.
I’m surrounded again by Marcus’s lovely masculine scent, and reflect miserably that this is probably the last time for a long time that I’ll be anywhere close to an attractive man, before remembering that that is a good thing, because clearly being in a relationship is not for me.
My mother abandoned me. My fiancé effectively abandoned me. I’ll be much better off on my own.
We walk in silence. It’s a very clear night, one of those ones at the beginning of autumn that make you remember about frosts, so I’m happy not talking and instead marvelling at all the stars in the sky, plus I really don’t think I have any words that will improve the situation I’ve landed us in.
When we reach the end of the little lane that leads up to Ellie’s cottage, I say, ‘Goodnight and thank you very much and also sorry for making you be my fake boyfriend for the evening.’ I begin to remove the jacket.
‘No, no, I’m coming all the way to the door, otherwise I’ll just worry that you’re in a ditch or something.’
‘I can’t imagine anything bad happening to me between here and Ellie’s. I’m thirty-five years old. I can totally look after myself.’
Marcus mutters something under his breath, which sounds a lot like, ‘Carrot cake, unbelievably drunk, fake boyfriend,’ before saying at normal volume, ‘Of course. But I might as well come anyway.’
He doesn’t look like he’s going to give up, so I just say, ‘Thank you,’ and pull the jacket back round myself.
When we finally get to the cottage, he lifts his hand just as I start thanking him again.
‘Honestly,’ he says, ‘it sounds like you’ve had a really bad time recently. This evening was completely understandable.’
‘Even the fake boyfriend thing?’
‘I mean… sort of. In a panicked moment. While really drunk.’
‘Sorry.’ I hand him his jacket.
‘Seriously. It’s fine. Anyway. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight. Thank you.’
For a moment, as I close the door behind me, I’m almost sorry that Marcus has gone. And then I remember that we are in no way friends, and that my life is basically a disaster.
I slump into a chair at the kitchen table and then haul myself to my feet again.
I love Ellie very much and I know she loves me too, but I think we’d both be a lot better off if I just went to bed now.
We went over the whole no-Rick, no-job, no-home situation yet again today, while Jack very kindly unpacked all my stuff into Ellie’s spare room, before the three of us went for a long walk in the afternoon, and I don’t think Ellie needs to hear any more misery from me.
I think after the week I’ve just done of wound-licking and sleeping and walking and watching reality TV, plus obviously eating a lot of cake (Simon has brought regular cake deliveries while having the sensitivity not to intrude and ask me any questions; he’s very good at waiting for people to confide in him) it’s time for me to draw a line under everything and make a plan about what I’m going to do next.
I really wish I hadn’t added a fake boyfriend announcement into my list of life disasters big and small.
I need to send Marcus an apology and a nice bottle of wine (if I can actually bear to even buy alcohol; maybe I’ll get him something else actually), and then I’ll make lots of excuses to Gran over the next few weeks before fizzling out our fake relationship, and then there’ll be no further need for me to have the embarrassment of speaking to Marcus again.