You, Me and Us. Read online

  “You okay mate?”

  The voice made me jump and in an instant my eyes dried up. I took a deep breath in and wiped my face. I looked up to see that Joe had joined me in the back room.

  “Yeah I’m fine.”

  Clearly my blotchy face and red eyes were from a sudden attack of early-autumn hay fever.

  “You don’t look it. What’s up?”

  He took a few steps towards me and sat down on the bench next to me. I couldn’t really speak because I knew opening my mouth for longer than a few seconds would bring the tears back. I opted for a shrug and a smile. Even that managed to spring a small leak that I brushed away with the back of my hand.

  “Do you want a beer?” he offered.

  I really must have looked sad. In the two years, I’d worked at Ronnie’s Joe had never given me a free beer. I nodded and looked down. Joe reached into an open crate and produced two bottles of lager. He pulled the bottle opener from his pocket like a gun from a holster and popped the caps off with the speed of a seasoned pro. He passed one over to me. I clasped my hands around it and felt the clink of his beer hitting mine in a half-hearted attempt at a ‘cheers’. I clenched the bottle in my hands and began to peel the label off of it.

  “What’s going on?”

  I braced myself again in an effort to speak. I pulled the beer up to my mouth and took a swig. The cold liquid conflicted with the hot feeling in my throat and burnt as it settled somewhere in my torso.

  “Just.” I paused. “Some stuff at home. Not good.”

  That was about all I could manage so I took another deep swig and blinked back a few more tears.

  “What with Erin?”

  I looked back to the ground and nodded.

  “Have you broke up?”

  “No, no.” I said with a quick shake of the head.

  “Okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Can’t.” I squeaked.

  I picked more of the label off the side of the beer and stared into space. I felt so weak and powerless in that moment, and I still didn’t really understand what I was so upset about.

  “Look why don’t you get off? Go home, get some rest, and if you want tomorrow night off too just give me a text.”

  As he spoke Joe dropped a hand onto my shoulder. He gripped it with a tight squeeze. I just nodded. I look a deep breath in to try and control my body. My breathing had now slowed and my heart no longer felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I stood up and downed the rest of my beer.

  “Thanks.” I managed to say.

  Joe nodded and smiled.

  “It’s fine, honestly just get home and let me know how you’re doing tomorrow.”

  I nodded back at him and walked to the fire escape. I pushed the door open and made my escape out of the back door away from questions. The cold wind hit me as I stepped outside and it felt wonderful on my warm face. I pulled the door shut behind me and began to walk down the alleyway to the main road. I looked up at the stairways which erupted from the topmost floors of the buildings around us and thought for a moment about climbing one and sitting up there for a bit. I sometimes would do this when the sun was coming up and look out onto Manchester. It was an amazing experience. I decided against it though and ploughed on towards the main road.

  I pulled my phone out and thought about texting you to tell you I’d be home early. But there wasn’t much point, as I knew you’d be asleep. When I’d left the flat that evening you were in your pyjamas watching some inane reality TV show. Instead I opened up the taxi app and keyed in my location. I had a quick smoke whilst I waited for the taxi and tried to logically think about what had just happened. As much I tried to break down the events of the evening I couldn’t seem to figure out why it had ended in me crying like a child who Father Christmas had forgotten about. I knew it wasn’t really about being shouted at, as I genuinely did have fairly thick skin (just don’t joke about my skin being too thick), so I knew it was really about what was going on with us two. The feeling I kept coming back to was an utter lack of control. I felt like I was trapped with these feelings of jealously. I couldn’t tell you about them because you’d be upset, but trying to keep them in just fed the demon inside me. And if tonight was anything to go by, the demon seemed to thrive and grow on the moments where I’d feel any sort of negativity. I realised it couldn’t go on, and perhaps the only real way to get past it would be to find out if there was anything I should be worried about. I knew I had to check your phone.

  Something about the smooth taxi drive hardened my resolve. I was adamant that looking at your phone and either easing my fears or confirming them would help. At the very least I would leave this state of limbo and find myself in either heaven or hell. Better to know a hard truth than live a lie. I paid the driver with a click of my phone and strode into the building. It had just turned 1am so the whole place was silent. I looked back into my reflection in the mirror once I was inside the lift and rubbed at my cheeks to try and force the blood back around my system. The lift pinged open, I crept along the corridor, and tried not to wake anyone, well I say anyone, what I really meant is you. I pushed my key into the door and very slowly turned it anti-clockwise until I felt the lock open. I then pressed my weight against the door and let it just fall open as I entered the flat.

  My heart raced again, I felt like a burglar in my own home. I edged from the corridor and peaked into the living room. Thankfully, you had vacated the couch, and left a blanket and a tube of Pringles behind. I decided to take my jeans and t-shirt off in the living room, as too much movement in the bedroom would surely wake you. I must have looked ridiculous as I slowly undressed besides the couch. My gut spilled over my boxer shorts as I bent over to pick up my crumpled jeans and tossed them onto the couch. I looked around slowly and then tip-toed bare foot towards the bedroom door. My heart was now really pounding, as if I’d drank three straight coffees, but I couldn’t slow it no matter how much I tried. As I reached the bedroom door I was certain that even if the hinge of the door creaking didn’t wake you, then surely my heart bouncing off my chest bone would do. I looked down at the handle and luckily the door was slightly ajar, meaning I wouldn’t have to click anything to get in. Once more I pushed myself against the door and let it slowly move open. My semi-naked body felt cold against the wooden door. I tried to adjust my eyes to the darkness of the room as I entered and looked towards to bed.

  It was probably three or four seconds before I realised the lumpy mass on the bed was only the duvet. You weren’t in bed. Shit. I panicked and looked around the room. Nope, you were definitely not here. To be double sure I clicked the light on and was greeted by an empty room. I span around and pulled the curtains open to look out onto the balcony, but I knew you wouldn’t be there as the door locked from the inside. Even so, I peered out on to the balcony and confirmed my suspicions that it was empty. At this point I forgot about creeping around. I flew around the flat and snapped doors open. Each time I opened a door my heart panged again. Bathroom, empty. Spare room, empty. Airing cupboard, empty. Fuck. Shit. Where were you? I raced to my jeans on the couch and pulled my phone from the pocket. 1.12am. Where could you be? The demon inside me knew the answer. Daniel, she’s with Daniel it hissed at me. And I knew it was right. This was better than checking your phone I resolved, messages could be deleted; this however was a cold hard fact. You clearly pretended to be all set for the evening on the couch and the second I left you ran from the flat directly to his place. I opened my messages and punched a text out to you.

  Where are you?

  I hit send. Now we’d see. Either you’d realise I was home early and lie, or you’d think I was checking in on you and tell me you were at home. I had you banged to rights. Oddly enough I wasn’t feeling sad in this moment, instead I was feeling validated. Adrenaline was racing around my veins like I was about to have a fight. My hands were jangling and as I sat down on the couch my legs began to shake. I held my phone in front of me and stared at the screen willing it to
light up. Nothing. I checked I had signal and even sent a text to myself to make sure my network was on. Yep, everything was fine. I opened up Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, even LinkedIn and checked all your pages to see if I could spot any clues. Nothing though. Just your high scores from Cats and Cupcakes 2. I went onto Daniel’s pages and cursed myself for not having him as a friend. All of his profiles were private so all I could do was sit and stare at his smug face. I could feel the anger inside me and it was coming out by shaking my body parts. I continued to look at my phone but as much as I willed it to I couldn’t bring it to life. I thought for a few moments about maybe texting your mum or Charlie or anyone to see if they’d heard from you. Just a snippet of information would make me feel better. But something stopped me from doing that, as I didn’t want anyone else to know how I was feeling. As much as I was certain I was right, the worst thing I could do is tell other people and end up being wrong.

  I turned the TV on and saw that the channel to the home shopping network was on. I watched a tanned blonde woman preach the wonders of a ‘wonder-vac’. I could see her lips moving but I couldn’t really hear what she was saying. I watched the vacuum slide over a red wine stain and totally erase it. I picked up my phone again and slammed it down. Still nothing. I tried to force the image from my mind that was forming of you doing all manner of sordid things. I stared at the ‘wonder-vac’ once again and saw that there were only ’39 left!’ and I decided to wait until there was less than thirty remaining before I took any further action. That seemed like a fair amount of time to give you to get home or even let me know you were okay. What my next step would be when that happened, I didn’t know, but I knew I had to do something. I twiddled my phone around in my hands. The presenter squealed and announced that they were down to thirty-seven.

  How could I have been so stupid I thought, all the clues had been in front of me since the party. He’d been hanging around, texting you, sticking his nose in. Of course, he was interested in you, and of course you were interested in him. I thought about his muscled body, and pictured those big wide arms wrapping themselves around you like a snake around a deer. This was my fault for punching way above my weight. I should’ve never gone for that stupid cigarette that night. I looked up to the TV, thirty-three vacuums remained. I felt a wave of panic flood my system once more and patted my knees to try and distract myself. The demon was really starting to take charge, I was almost foaming at the mouth. Blind fury and rage were taking over. I stood up and paced into the kitchen area. I swung the fridge door open and began to drink directly from the milk carton. You hated when I did that, but you were at another guys’ house so fuck you. I drank and drank the milk until it was empty. I slammed the carton on the side and felt sick.

  I shuffled over to the sink and lifted the dirty plates out of it. I began to dry heave over the empty basin and felt the milk rise in my stomach. I took some deep breaths in and tasted the milk mixing with the beer and cigarette taste on my breath. The combination of all three brought the lining of my stomach to the surface and I let it erupt out of my mouth into the empty sink. It felt hot and painful as I threw up over and over again. For a split-second I reminded myself of Linda Blair in The Exorcist as I swore and vomited. Eventually the wave of nausea subsided so I blasted the cold water into the sink and washed away my insides that had ended up on my outside.

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and turned back to the TV. Only thirty vacuums remained. I almost ran to the couch and sat back down in front of the TV. Instinctively, I reached for my phone and was greeted by my blank home screen once more. I looked back to the TV and saw that we were somehow still stuck on thirty vacuums. My mind was going a million miles an hour and I couldn’t stop my hands or feet moving. I couldn’t stand it a second longer so I grabbed my jeans once more and found my wallet. I fumbled with it for a second, as my hands couldn’t stay still. I pulled my debit card from its slot and typed the website into my phone. The brightly coloured webpage burnt my eyes for a moment as I’d been sat in darkness for a while. I saw the image of the now familiar ‘wonder-vac’ on the home page and touched it with my thumb. I flicked down to the bottom of the page and found the option to ‘buy now.’ The page changed a second later and asked me to either sign in or create an account. Bollocks. I looked back up at the screen and saw that we were still on thirty. I sighed and began to type in all my vital information, it seemed to want a lot from me. Name, age, gender, sexual preference, favourite member of U2.

  I ploughed on through it all and eventually found myself on the confirmation page. I glanced up once more at the screen to see that yep, we were still stuck on thirty. I quickly typed in my debit card number; CVC code, expiry date and hit ‘confirm’. A small circle appeared on my screen and began to rotate very slowly. Come on! I willed the stupid thing to go quicker. Eventually the screen changed and I was greeted with large scary red letters;

  Payment declined. Please refer to your bank.

  For fucks sake! I looked up at the screen, (it was still stuck on thirty) it was the £59.98 I thought it was. I’d just been paid! Surely, I had sixty quid in my account? I flicked my screen to my banking app and logged. One look at my account confirmed that yes, even though I was overdrawn, I still had a few hundred quid available. Just as I was about to scream in rage my phone sprang to life as an unknown number was calling me. Fuck I knew it was you; you were ringing to lie to me. And you’d used an unknown number; probably because you were using Daniel’s phone or some ridiculous reason only you would know. I swiped the ‘answer’ button to the right and stuck the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello it that a Mr. James Rowland?” came back a Geordie-accent.

  It wasn’t you. Unless you’d decided to do an extremely convincing accent and had a sex change.

  “Yes.”

  “Hello Mr. Rowland, my name’s Carl I’m calling from the City First bank.”

  “Oh right.”

  “I’m just calling to confirm some unusual activity on your account.”

  “It’s the ‘wonder-vac’! Yes, I want it.” I said.

  “Can you just confirm the exact amount of the transaction for me please?”

  “Erm.” I looked at the TV, a huge logo had just sprung across the screen stating ‘price reduction, now £39.99!’ “Well it was sixty, but they’ve just put it down to forty.”

  “Sorry, can you give me the exact amount?”

  “Oh shit, sorry, yeah it was fifty-nine ninety-nine but now like I said, it’s thirty-nine ninety-nine.”

  “I’m sorry Mr. Rowland as you’ve been unable to confirm the amount correctly I’m unable to process the transaction.”

  “What? No come on, it’s me! I want the fucking ‘wonder-vac’!” I shouted.

  “Mr. Rowland if you continue to use abusive language I’m afraid I’ll have to terminate the call.”

  “Don’t hang up, look I just want to buy a vacuum, I can answer whatever security you want!”

  “I’m afraid I’m unable to assist any further Mr. Rowland, please visit a local branch to unblock your card.”

  “No fuck, it’s the middle of the fucking night just give me my fucking vac!” I shouted.

  “As you’ve continued to use abusive language Mr. Rowland I will now be ending this call. Thank you.”

  The phone clicked as Carl disconnected from me.

  “Mother fucker!” I shouted.

  “Jimmy?” came your voice from the hall.

  I froze to the spot. You came waltzing into the room. You were wearing make-up and a light blue vest top that hung in a low ‘V’.

  “What are you doing?” you said.

  For a second I snapped out of my state of paralysis and imaged how this looked to you. I was stood in the living room dressed only in my underwear, screaming down the phone at the bank that I wanted to buy a ‘wonder-vac.’

  “Where’ve you been?” I said.

  “Why are you home early?” you came back with.
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br />   “I left early. Where’ve you been?” I repeated.

  “I went out.”

  “Who with?”

  “Charlie, why all the questions?”

  “You’re lying I know you are.”

  “What? No, I’m not. Why would I lie?”

  “Because you’ve been at Daniel’s. Or with him or something.”

  “Jimmy, for fucks sake, for the last time there’s nothing going on with us two.”

  “Well why wouldn’t you tell me you were going out?”

  “It was a last-minute thing do I have to tell you everywhere I go all the time?”

  “No.”

  “Well clearly I do because if I don’t you accuse me of cheating on you.”

  The demon crept away and was replaced by a deep flowing feeling of shame. For fuck’s sake what had I just done?