Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
I wake up on Saturday morning with a pounding thick head. At first, I’m disorientated, then as I gingerly lift my head off the pillow, the events of the previous night come flooding back.
Why did it have to go so wrong? It had been a fantastic evening. Even my faux pas with the ‘Champagne for everyone’ announcement, though it didn’t amuse the bar staff, was actually quite funny. It added to the experience. Gave us something to remember, to laugh and joke about at our table – creating the type of fond memories Lottie wanted me to have. Had things continued that way, it would have been the best night out I’ve ever had.
My mind keeps transporting me back to that moment in the corridor when Simon cornered me. I shiver, remembering how intimidated I felt, how cruel his words were. Then James turning up, trying to be the rescuer yet again, and me laying it on him. What was he even doing there? Should I be concerned – or suspicious – that he just happened to turn up the moment I was in trouble?
After checking my phone, which is displaying messages from Amber, Sara, Cameron, Jana and Trudy, all asking how I’m doing, I hear Cat open my door a crack, no doubt to check on me.
‘ I’m awake, ’ I call to her. ‘Come in.’
‘How are you feeling this morning?’ She enters the room, climbing onto the other side of the bed and reaching over to give me a hug.
‘Hungover. And a bit miserable.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ She peers at me with a concerned face.
‘Cat, why did it have to end up like that?’
‘Oh, honey, I don’t know. That Simon bloke clearly has issues.’
‘I guess.’ I shrug. ‘Though he made out that I was the one showing off… and that I led him on.’
‘Don’t you go blaming yourself.’ She takes my hand and clasps it tight. ‘ He chose to pursue you. And he chose to intimidate you.’
‘He was drunk. Really drunk. I obviously offended him when he came to speak to us—’
‘Emma, please don’t do this to yourself. He didn’t have to get hammered. Did you see anyone else that drunk? I bet not. You are not responsible for the actions of a grown man.’
‘You’re right, I’m not,’ I say, feeling more convinced.
‘I’m just so glad that James found you when he did,’ says Cat. ‘He really was brave standing up to Simon.’
I smart a little at the mention of James, and Cat seeing him for something that he’s not. But I bite my tongue, not wanting to seem ungrateful.
‘It was intimidating.’ I rearrange the covers around me. ‘I can’t deny that. But in hindsight, because of where it happened, someone was bound to pass through and intervene. ’
‘I suppose so. I’m just so glad you’re OK.’ She leans back against the headboard, stretching her legs out in front of her. ‘So, not to labour the point, but… as James was the hero, you must see now that he’s a good guy?’
Not this again. This is the last thing I want to discuss right now.
‘Surely anyone would have done what he did.’ I’m careful to keep my tone casual.
‘Perhaps. But maybe not. He certainly seemed very concerned for you when he told us what had happened.’
‘He spoke to you? Ah, so that’s why you knew to come through and get me.’
‘Yeah, honey.’ Cat’s expression suggests that she thinks this was obvious.
‘Well, perhaps on some level I owe him a thank you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s arrogant. He seems to love it, playing the rescuer. That must be his thing.’
‘Whatever.’ Cat smiles and shakes her head at me.
‘I mean, what was he doing there anyway?’ I frown. ‘I seem to keep running into him. It’s too weird. Why is it always the people you don’t want to see that turn up everywhere?’
‘Eh… actually…’ She looks shifty all of a sudden.
‘What did you do?’
‘Me? Nothing. But… Amber might have sneaked a peek at his business card in your purse and messaged him.’
‘ She didn’t. ’
‘She did. But to be fair, she didn’t know about you seeing him yesterday and how badly that went. It also sounds as if James was in two minds as to whether he should pop along – he was out with friends not far from us – but you know Amber, she’s very persuasive. The poor guy had only just arrived when he nipped to the loo and… well, you know what happened next.’
‘What the fuuuck ?’ I groan, rubbing my forehead in exasperation. ‘I could kill Amber sometimes… oh … no.. .’
A sick feeling washes through me as I piece everything together. That James didn’t happen to turn up. He was invited – by my friend. And I more or less accused him of being up to something when he did exactly what any person should do when they witness someone being harassed. Plus, he didn’t even know it was me at first. In amongst all the drama and the unbearable stress of the situation, I forgot about that.
Like the flick of a switch, I finally see James for who he really is – kind, caring, the opposite of Dave. Not to mention utterly gorgeous – now I finally allow myself to admit it. The kind of guy any woman with half a brain would want in their life. And now he’s seen the worst side of me. Not who I really am, but who I became in the moment. A moment of confusion and panic, where my threat response was in overload and I wasn’t in control. Oh god, I’ve really messed up .
‘What is it, Emma?’ Cat asks. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I… um… can we maybe talk about something else?’
‘Sure, whatever you need.’ She rubs my shoulder supportively while I try to ignore the gut-wrenching churning in my stomach.
‘Oh, Cat, tonight’s the night of your big date,’ I say, finally tuning into the present. ‘How are you feeling about it?’
She plays with the ring on her right hand. ‘It’s been rearranged.’
‘What? Why?’ I cross my fingers that she’s not about to be blown off again.
‘Something came up.’
‘What “something”? What could be more important than taking you out? It had better be a good excuse – like a death in the family or something.’
Cat raises her eyebrows at me and I wince.
‘Argh, you know what I mean. It had better be a genuine, unavoidable reason, because I won’t stand by and see my best friend get hurt by some—’
‘Emma, please shut up. It was me who asked to postpone, not him.’
I blink at her. ‘But why?’
‘Because it didn’t… feel right.’
‘What do you mean it didn’t “feel right”? You’ve been on top of the world all week looking forward to this. It’s been oozing out of you.’
She looks out the window and a thought passes through my mind. ‘Wait a minute… you’ve postponed because you don’t want to leave me on my own tonight.’
‘No, it wasn’t like… I mean, I didn’t…’ She trails off looking distinctly guilty.
‘ What the hell, Cat? I’m fine. I don’t need a babysitter. Sure, I got a bit of a fright last night. Maybe I’ll be a bit more cautious when I talk to men in bars. But I’m not going to turn this into something it’s not.’
‘Hey, calm down.’ She pats my leg. ‘I know that. I thought you might want some company, that’s all. You were really shaken, so you can’t blame me for wanting to look after you.’
This is true. I can’t.
‘OK, OK. Cat, thank you. I really don’t know what I’d do without you. But seriously, you need to contact that man and change your date back to tonight before he makes other plans – or worse, thinks you’re not interested.’ I climb out of bed and give a big stretch to prove that I really am fine .
‘He won’t think that. He was understanding and said that I was right to look out for you.’
‘Which means he sounds like a keeper, so get yourself moving and back on the path to true love.’
‘Right.’ She snickers at the adamant look on my face. ‘I can tell I won’t be welcome here this evening.’
‘That is correct. You are not. Chop chop .’
In the evening, with Cat out on her date and having exhausted my capacity for binge watching TV shows, I become increasingly restless. I genuinely thought I was fine, but as it turns out, the cumulative impact of recent events has eroded my resilience to the fragility of a crumbling cliff edge. Though I make a valiant attempt at keeping myself positive and upbeat, the negative, burdensome thoughts that have been lurking finally break through and start to plague me.
The way I treated James weighs on me heavily. I could never have known that Amber had invited him to join us, and I was in shock, but I still should have shown a bit of gratitude. I’ve read his sense of humour, confidence and concern as him wanting to be the ‘big man’. He has so many similar characteristics to Dave that it was almost impossible not to draw comparisons, but there’s one defining difference between them, I now realise: he’s not a self-absorbed dickhead. I feel physically sick at the thought of James now hating me and thinking that I’m the ‘basic bitch’ Simon made me out to be.
My troubled mind flits to another memory: the smell of alcohol on Simon’s breath, how vicious he was and how vulnerable and panicked I felt in that moment. Then thoughts of Dave’s infidelity flood my consciousness. Why was he unfaithful? And why do I care so much? I should be glad to be rid of him, but not knowing who he cheated with is gnawing at me. No matter how much I distract myself with fun, friends and bank funds, that unanswered question seems to undermine everything.
Unable to shake myself back into a more positive frame of mind, I realise that a change of scenery is badly needed, so I go for a walk to clear my head.
It turns out to be the best possible distraction. I wander right along Fountainbridge and down Lothian Road, entertained by the Saturday night revellers behaving in ways they would never dare to in the stark (and sober) light of day. I pass a man declaring his undying love for a woman, who by the look on her face, has no idea who he is. A group of women try to ignore the fact that their friend is throwing up in a bin, while three young-looking guys (probably students) fight over a single doner kebab.
Despite being on my own, I feel quite comfortable. There are enough people around and there’s almost a sense of community that doesn’t exist during the day. People who would normally avoid eye contact at all costs, transported into a world where everyone’s a potential friend or date. It’s such a mood lifter that I keep walking for some time, enjoying the distraction of the action around me.
After a while, I realise that I’ve inadvertently gravitated towards Stockbridge where Cat’s on her date, and an idea creeps into my mind. I could sneak a look at her new man. Would that be so bad? She wouldn’t even need to know I’d been there. And surely, the worst I could be accused of is being nosey.
Now just a couple of blocks from the bar, I know I’m fighting a losing battle with myself. I don’t have the willpower to respect Cat’s privacy, because I’m too intrigued. The longer she keeps this man a secret, the more I want to know who he is.
The exterior of the bar is traditional and welcoming, with whitewashed walls, imitation candles framing the entrance and Georgian-style sash windows that are the perfect height to take a peek through without being spotted. The cloak of darkness around me also acts as a helpful camouflage, allowing me to see in better than anyone can see out. I peer inside, taking in the traditional wooden floorboards and the tasteful minimalist furniture, all occupied by happy looking couples and small groups. It’s so inviting that, for a second, I feel a bit lonely standing outside on my own. Pushing that feeling away, I focus on the excitement of the task at hand. Let’s get a look at this secret man Cat’s been squirreling away.
I scan the space and my eyes eventually land on Cat. Bingo. She’s just emerged from the door to the toilets, and is making her way across the room. She joins a man standing by the bar, and although I can’t see his face, I can tell from his body language that he’s enjoying her presence. He slips his arm round her waist affectionately, and she laughs, whispering something in his ear. The intimacy between them is evident: comfortable, flirty, like they’ve known each other a while.
Frustrated that I can only see the back of him, I move to another window to get a better view. I can’t see Cat’s face anymore, but I can almost make out her new man’s profile. Then, by a stroke of luck, another man approaches the bar. Cat’s companion acknowledges him and shifts over to make space, allowing me to finally get a proper look at him.
What the fuck? My stomach lurches and I stare in disbelief and panic, unable to comprehend the scene before me. Rather than clapping my eyes on a handsome stranger as I expected, the man cosying up to my best friend is Dave.
Backing away from the window, I desperately try to catch my breath and shake off the unbearable nausea that consumes me. A passing couple watch me, and I shy away from them, unable to stomach any concerned looks or offers of help. I need to get out of here. With my most primal instincts in charge, I take off down the road, running as fast as I can manage, and hail the first taxi that I see.