Chapter 3 #2
‘Whatever you say,’ said Leo. ‘I just would have thought, with a name like yours, you’d have been more aware than most of the possibility of scammers, Ms Kat Fisher, isn’t it? I remember your surname from your badge.’
He knew full well that was my name. Had he been waiting for an opportunity to stick the knife in?
If I’d been cross before, now I was properly seething.
I’d chosen to be called Kat rather than Katherine at primary school because of my complete devotion to the caretaker’s pet, a bundle of fluffy kindness who’d always had an incredible knack for knowing when a shy small child like myself was in need of some feline love and friendship.
Of course, by the time I hit senior school, there was more awareness among my peers of the concept of catfishing thanks to the MTV show, but it was too late to change my nickname, and to be honest, it felt strange to be called anything else.
I’d endured years of comments, from gentle teasing to the downright nasty.
To have that kind of cruelty shoved back in my face again when I was already so low was the final straw.
‘Right, that’s it. You need to leave the library.’
Moira nudged my elbow, but I ignored her gentle warning. I stared Leo down and gestured angrily at the door, in case he hadn’t got the message.
He spread his palms as if trying to appease me.
‘But it’s not closing time quite yet. I meant no offence, I promise you. I was only trying to make a joke to lighten things up.’
‘You think what I’m going through is a joke?
How dare you? You insensitive, insufferable…
’ I lost the power of speech as another angry sob threatened to erupt.
I took a deep, shuddery breath and attempted to muster what was left of my self-respect.
‘It’s not closing time, but patrons are reminded that the library reserves the right to ask them to leave if their behaviour is deemed to be disruptive or problematic to others,’ I quoted from the terms and conditions which every prospective member was required to agree to.
‘I think that describes your behaviour exactly, so I’m throwing you out. Please leave. Right now.’
Ex-copper, ongoing nuisance, Mr Leo Taylor looked surprised by the vehemence of my tone. Perhaps he didn’t expect such a show of strength from a woman who wore frivolous yellow polka dot dresses and allowed herself to be duped by a sweet-talking man online.
‘Look, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you with the catfisher comment,’ he said. ‘I obviously hit a sore spot. As I said, I was trying to lighten a difficult situation, but I clearly went about it the wrong way. I can only apologise.’
‘Any idiot could probably guess that I’ve been tormented by catfisher jibes for years.
And sadly, I’m sure you won’t be the last to try such an unimaginative approach to having a go at me.
’ His look of sympathy and sorrow riled me still further.
I could have kicked myself for letting the words out of my mouth.
Time to save face. If I could. ‘The only thing that is difficult about this situation is your refusal to exit the building,’ I said, cursing the continued wobble in my voice.
‘Are you going to make me summon security?’
I was completely blagging it now. The Oxford Community Library’s budget didn’t stretch to having security staff.
It was down to Moira and me and the rest of the librarians, and frankly, most of us were of the firm opinion that the pen is mightier than the sword.
If things got bad, we were expected to zip round the corner and throw ourselves on the mercy of the Ashmolean Museum’s security team, or if it was really, really bad, the protocol was to lock ourselves in the break room and wait for the police to arrive.
Thankfully, it had never got to that point.
Most of the challenging situations we’d faced had been defused by a cup of tea and a sympathetic ear.
I was definitely not in the mood to offer either of those options to this particular man, although I could do with them myself.
‘Okay, okay, I’ll go quietly.’ He started packing up his things, slowly and methodically.
‘A little bit of speed wouldn’t go amiss,’ I said, tapping my foot on the floor as he took an unnecessary amount of time to save a document and shut down his laptop.
‘Come on, Kat,’ said Moira quietly. She was being a supportive friend by not openly challenging what we both knew was totally unreasonable behaviour on my part, but I recognised the subtle caution not to push the situation any further.
Leo hesitated as he packed away his final notebook.
‘You shouldn’t feel ashamed, you do know that, don’t you?’ he said. ‘These people prey on kindness. Don’t beat yourself up about it.’
‘I’m quite capable of managing my own emotions, thank you very much,’ I said, an ill-timed tear making a liar of me.
He shrugged. ‘Sure. Have a good weekend, both of you.’
He walked out of the library with an easy stride.
‘I hope he doesn’t come back,’ I said.
‘I’m certain, if you apologise when he does return, you’ll get over your embarrassment,’ said Moira.
‘That’s not what…’ The sentence trailed off. I knew exactly what she meant.
I plucked helplessly at the yellow dress.
‘Do you mind if I go and take this off? I can’t bear to wear it any longer.
I feel so stupid. Who did I think I was kidding, making myself a laughingstock with a silly polka dot dress and prancing around with a starry expression?
Why did I even take the tags off? Do you think the shop will still take it back without them? ’
‘Oh, come here, love,’ said Moira, and before I knew it, I was wrapped in a bony bear hug. Moira was never very touchy-feely, so this was a big deal, and I think that was what finished me off.
‘Why am I such an idiot?’ I blubbed. ‘I can’t believe I fell for it.
It was so obvious from the start. Why on earth would a sexy soldier be interested in someone as ordinary as me?
That kind of thing only happens to characters in books.
Of course he was trying to scam me. I’d even turn out to be a disappointment to him on the financial front, especially now I’ve wasted so much money getting ready for a fake date. ’
Moira gave a final squeeze then held me at arm’s length.
‘I’m not quite sure where to begin with unpacking all that.
I don’t think you’re in the right frame of mind to believe me if I start extolling your many virtues, so I’m not even going to bother.
As to returning that beautiful dress, absolutely not.
I forbid you to do it. What’s more, you’re going to leave it on and we’re going to go out and have a lovely meal, exactly as you were planning.
Well, maybe not exactly like it,’ she corrected herself.
I told myself to get it together and not fall to pieces again at her act of kindness.
‘Nothing like it. Thank goodness. You’re the kind of dinner companion I could only dream of. Unlike a certain somebody who deserves a fate which I probably shouldn’t be vocalising within the hallowed halls of the library.’
Moira laughed. ‘Atta girl, that’s more like it. Your fighting spirit will be back before you know it. Right, let’s lock up and get going. Pub grub?’
‘The perfect salve for a broken heart,’ I responded bleakly.
‘Your heart isn’t broken, love, is it?’ she asked. ‘I do hope not.’
I took my time answering, thinking about the dreams that had been dashed, the foolish hopes which I’d allowed to cloud my better judgement.
‘Perhaps it’s better to say wounded,’ I said eventually, trying to pull myself together for my friend’s sake.
‘Definitely badly bruised, although my self-esteem has probably been the worst hit. I’ll get over it eventually, I guess.
And food will definitely help.’ I forced myself to attempt a watery smile, although I’m sure it came out more like a grimace.
‘Tonight, I’m going to eat all of my chips, probably half of your portion too, and I’m going to have extra ice cream with my dessert. ’
‘Good woman. Give me a few minutes to check nobody’s hiding in the stacks and trying to camp in here overnight, then we’ll get going. You go and touch up your face and give yourself another squirt of that lovely perfume, that’ll make you feel brighter. Everything looks better after chips.’
* * *
We ended up in The Turf, an ancient higgledy-piggledy pub hidden down a narrow alleyway behind the majestic stonework of Hertford College.
Unsurprisingly, given that it was a Friday night, it was packed to the rafters with members of both town and gown communities, everyone shouting over one another to be heard.
I hesitated on the threshold, not ready to be surrounded by so many happy people while I was nursing wounds which felt very raw.
But I didn’t want to abandon my friend when she’d been so kind, and what was wallowing alone at home going to achieve?
It would only make me feel even more pathetic.
Somehow Moira managed to secure us a tiny table in a relatively quiet corner, and I sucked down the ‘medicinal’ whisky and lime that she insisted on buying me.
‘I think my throat is on fire,’ I said, my eyes watering all over again.
‘That’s the good stuff for you,’ said Moira. ‘Kill or cure, that’s my philosophy.’
I don’t know whether it was the whisky, the bustling atmosphere where nobody knew me, or the trauma I’d just endured, but the tension in my shoulders started to ease. By the time the food arrived, I was feeling almost relaxed.
‘It’s not Brian himself per se that I’m grieving,’ I eagerly explained to Moira as I shovelled in my fish and chips, washing them down with a second whisky, which may have been responsible for my talkative mood.
‘It’s the possibility that he represented.
You know, the potential of the whole ‘happily ever after’, of having a proper partner for once, and not yet another bloke who views me as ‘nice, but not nice enough’ to settle down with.
I mean I’m completely, totally happy single.
No honestly, I really, really am,’ I said, realising that with each assertion I sounded more and more like I wasn’t.
‘But it would be lovely to have someone to share the fun with, you know? Someone who gets me, who I don’t have to change myself for, who’s there for me, always, as I am for him. Like you and Mr Moira.’
‘You know it amuses Rami no end that you refer to him as that,’ said my companion.
‘I hope he doesn’t mind,’ I said, suddenly worried that I’d been inadvertently causing offence to my favourite couple all these years.
‘Oh no, he enjoys it. He says he’s proud to be known as Mr Moira. And I promise you that, one day, you’ll find someone who will be equally thrilled to be known as Mr Kat.’
‘Mr Kat.’ I made claw shapes with my hands. ‘Miaow, he sounds like a special one.’ I giggled and wondered if two whiskies might actually be my limit.
‘He does indeed. And that lucky man is out there somewhere, I promise you. Dessert, and then I think it’s time to get you home,’ Moira replied with a smile. ‘Things will look brighter in the morning.’
Only if I woke up and realised this had all been a bad dream, I thought glumly.