Chapter 5
Chapter Five
I n the immediate period after my breakup with Dave, I camp out in Cat’s guest room in a seemingly endless cycle of self-imposed misery, which includes ‘forensically’ trawling through his social media to try to figure out what went wrong. That is, until he heartlessly blocks me four days after our breakup.
My mind is in overdrive and my anxiety levels are through the roof, leaving me terminally exhausted. Because as much as I hate Dave for what he’s done, I still love him, and I really miss him. It’s like my heart and my head are in a never-ending war, which on top of my already challenging work situation, is just too much for my mind to cope with. So much so that I’m beginning to understand where the mindset associated with self-harm comes from. My self-critical inner voice, which seems to have hijacked all logical thinking, constantly berates and chides me to the point that I feel imprisoned in my own mind and desperate for some kind of release.
I go over and over things in my head, wondering if I’d done things differently, been a bit more independent, or not caused Dave to feel like he was always having to compromise, would things have been different? And what about the France trip – was it true that it never existed? Why would he make that up?
After a week off work on sick leave, I have a telephone appointment with my GP, who points me in the direction of some online self-help advice to ease my anxiety and signs me off for another week. I know I’m not capable of dealing with anything remotely challenging or pressured, never mind the boss from hell. Karla would rip what’s left of me to shreds in minutes.
Of course, she’s furious when I tell her I’ve been signed off with stress and anxiety.
‘You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word “stress”. I’ll be speaking to Lisa in HR about this. This is not going to look good, Emma.’
Luckily, when Lisa in HR receives my medical certificate, she confirms that my absence is genuine, so Karla has had no choice but to accept this predicament, leave me in peace and do some work herself for once.
Close to a fortnight on from what is now referred to as ‘D-day’, I venture out of hibernation in search of some company. Whether it’s due to boredom or an improvement with my anxiety symptoms, I decide I can’t lock myself away any longer, without seriously compromising my mental health. It may also have something to do with the return of my appetite.
Cat is in the kitchen, cooking a big pot of soup over the stove. She must sense me hovering in the doorway, because she turns and smiles .
‘Well, well, Emma. You’re out of your room. To what do I owe this honour?’
‘I… erm…’ I trace the pattern on the floor tiles with my toe. ‘I thought – now I’m familiar with every square inch of wallpaper in your spare room – that maybe I could have dinner in here tonight.’
She laughs softly at my coyness. ‘Of course, honey. I’d love to have your company. It’s just soup and sandwiches tonight.’
‘Sounds delicious.’ I hop up onto a bar stool and watch Cat beavering away.
‘So, does this mean you’re feeling a wee bit better?’ I can tell that she’s treading carefully to avoid sending me scarpering back to my duvet.
‘Yeah, I think so. I mean… it still really hurts and I still feel panicky at the thought of leaving the apartment, never mind going back to work, but I think I’m past the sobbing-at-every-nostalgic-thought stage.’
I smile weakly, suddenly ashamed. It’s obviously not my fault that the combination of my relationship breakdown and my work situation have tipped me over the edge mentally and emotionally, but I feel guilty nonetheless. Especially when Cat’s been running around after me, and there’s clearly something going on with her. I’ve caught her with that same troubled look from our night out a few times since, but any time I’ve tried to bring it up she’s said it was nothing.
‘Can I tell you a secret?’ Cat leans in conspiratorially and I nod. ‘I’m really glad you’re feeling better. You see… Amber’s been very patient over the last few weeks, but that’s only because Sara and I threatened to disown her if she wasn’t.’
‘You know, I was totally wondering about that.’ My mouth twitches with amusement. ‘Her behaviour has been out of character – in a good way.’
‘It took some effort, believe me. And there’s no way it was going to last. The other day she said, and I quote, “if she doesn’t get her sorry arse out of that bedroom soon, I’m going to come over and give her a lesson in just-freakin’-get-over-it”.’
Cat giggles, but when I don’t immediately respond, she pulls back and searches my face. ‘Oh honey, I’m sorry. I thought you’d find it funny, but it’s still too soon, isn’t it?’
I’m a bit stunned for a second, but then a little snort escapes. Then another. And before I know it, I’ve dissolved into fits of laughter – which, it turns out, is a refreshing alternative to tears.
‘Sorry.’ I clamp my hand over my mouth. ‘I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It’s not even that funny, but I was baffled by this new improved Amber. It makes sense that it was an illusion.’
‘We couldn’t have let her loose on you,’ says Cat. ‘You were way too fragile.’
‘Well, thank you for that.’ I reach for her hand and give it a grateful squeeze. ‘The wrath of our Amber is not for the faint-hearted.’
I start laughing again. I’m not really sure why but it feels good. I’m not at all put out by Amber’s threat – and Cat and Sara sitting on her like that to protect me: that was so touching.
‘You know what?’ I rub my jaw thoughtfully. ‘You guys are amazing . I mean… Amber, demonstrating some self-restraint for once. Sara, although she works ridiculous hours, still managing to pop in. And you, where do I start? You’re the most incredible best friend anyone could ask for.’
Cat colours and starts to bustle around the kitchen again .
‘Seriously.’ I try to catch her eye. ‘I can’t believe you’re still single. You’re the most loyal, caring, selfless—’
‘Oh, enough.’ Cat cuts me off, clearly embarrassed.
‘ No , not enough. I know you’re uncomfortable with this kind of chat, but tough. You’ve rallied around me, picked up my stuff from Dave’s, made me food – although I have a confession, I’ve been flushing a lot of it down the loo.’
‘I guessed that. But I figured if you were even eating a few mouthfuls then that was better than nothing at all.’
‘ You see? That’s exactly what I mean.’ I slap the worktop triumphantly ‘You’ve worked from home, even taken a day’s holiday – all for me. But you’ve also given me space to work through things myself. My parents would have suffocated the life out of me. I want you to know how much I appreciate it, and that I will repay the favour one day, I promise.’
‘OK, thank you for your kind words,’ Cat blusters. ‘Now are you done?’
‘I’m done.’
I sit back in my seat, satisfied that I’ve shown my best friend enough gratitude – for now.
‘Speaking of your parents…’ she says. ‘Sorry again for letting it slip. I didn’t realise you hadn’t told them about D-day. How did you get away with that?’
‘It’s fine. They had to find out eventually.’ I wave a non-plussed hand. ‘As we only speak on weekends – you know, because I tell them that I’m too busy on workdays – I knew I’d be safe once the mandatory birthday phone call was out of the way. They were so busy singing Happy Birthday and reminiscing about my early years, they didn’t even notice that I barely said a word.’
‘Oh honey, it’s such a shame that you missed out on your birthday celebrations.’ Cat has a slightly distracted look on her face. ‘Dave’s timing really was appalling. ’
I raise my eyes to the ceiling to keep any rogue tears at bay.
‘But anyway…’ She realises her error and swiftly changes the subject. ‘Since I let things slip to your parents, it’s been a different story, as you know. Your mum called. Again. I tried to reassure her that you’re OK, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stave her off. She’s going to turn up here eventually. You must realise that.’
‘OK, I’ll call her.’ I’m irritated by my mum’s persistence.
‘Promise?’ Cat waggles her finger at me.
‘Promise.’ I cross my fingers behind my back. ‘ Jeez, I don’t need to call my parents. I’ve got a ready-made mum right here.’
I duck as Cat playfully lobs a piece of carrot in my direction. ‘You’re definitely feeling better, you cheeky monkey. And what about Lottie? Have you been in touch with her? She’ll be worried if she’s not heard from you all this time.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve been messaging her. I told her I was unwell and wasn’t up to calling her, which is the truth. I didn’t want her to see the state of me. I’m the one who should be looking after her now, not the other way around. She’s done more than enough for me over the years.’
‘She has.’ Cat nods. ‘But that doesn’t mean you need to be made of steel. I’m sure Lottie would want to offer you some support at a time like this.’
‘I suppose.’ Now I’m thinking more rationally, I realise that Cat’s right. ‘I’ll FaceTime her in a bit and tell her what’s happened.’
‘Good plan. So…’ Cat ventures once again into the unknown of my emotions. ‘Now that you’re feeling a bit brighter, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to be hammered in the Meadows at 2.30 a.m. on D-day night? I on ly realised earlier today that you weren’t that drunk when you left us.’
I cringe at the memory. ‘It’s a bit ridiculous really. I was rushing out of Dave’s apartment and I guess my survival instincts kicked in. I made off with one of his bottles of red to numb the pain – turns out it was vintage and worth a couple of grand.’
‘ You didn’t. Goodness, he’ll be livid. Did it taste amazing?’
‘No idea.’ I wince. ‘I was hardly in the right frame of mind for savouring it. I wonder if he’s noticed yet.’
‘Maybe not,’ says Cat. ‘And when he does, he might not even realise what’s happened. I wouldn’t usually say this, but he did kind of deserve it. And it’s not like you took it as revenge.’
‘No, I didn’t. I’d never have taken it if I knew how much it was worth, and I did get a shock when I found out, but it was already open by then.’
‘And how did you find out?’ Cat asks. ‘Tell me the whole story.’
I flush with embarrassment while filling her in on what happened in the shop that night, including my frustrating encounter the bloke who clocked that the wine was vintage and how the shopkeeper conned me into buying a lottery ticket with my last couple of quid.
‘Gosh, you had a right ordeal that night – and the last thing you needed was some wise guy making you feel small,’ says Cat, once I’m done. ‘Although… I don’t think it was so bad that he was concerned for your safety.’
‘He wasn’t concerned for my safety.’ I scoff. ‘He was showing off. Trying to be the big hero rescuing the damsel in distress. He thought I was a right flake.’
‘Well, that’s not nice. I can’t believe that the shopkeeper persuaded you to part with the only money you had left too. I take it you didn’t win anything on the ticket?’
I make a face. ‘Obviously not. I mean, I never checked it, but the odds of winning more than a few quid are like a billion to one.’
‘So? He might have been a wheeler dealer, but he was right that someone’s got to win. Why don’t you check the ticket, just in case? Even a twenty-pound win, wouldn’t that feel a little like karma?’
‘I suppose it would, but I’m not even sure what I did with it. My memory of that night is so hazy. I’ll have a look.’
I go through to Cat’s guest room and rummage through my jacket pockets, where I find nothing but used bus tickets and receipts. I then empty my handbag onto the bed and rifle through the contents, but there’s no sign of the ticket.
Returning to the kitchen, I re-locate myself on the bar stool. ‘No ticket, I’m afraid. I must have dropped it in the Meadows.’
‘Oh well, as you say, the odds of winning are very slim.’ Cat looks mildly disappointed on my behalf.
‘Exactly.’
‘You feel up to a glass?’ She opens a fresh bottle of red. ‘Or even half a glass?’
Having not touched a drop of alcohol since D-day, my stomach’s first reaction to the suggestion of wine is an uncomfortable nauseated flip.
Despite this, I hear myself say, ‘Sure, why not.’
Cat pours us a glass each, then tentatively proposes a toast. ‘To new beginnings?’
‘To new beginnings.’ I clink her glass with mine. And I realise that I actually mean it.