The Debt & the Doormat (21 page)

And she’s expecting to inherit all of that?  Then the images of the divorce office flash in my head.  Wait a minute.  If she signs as joint partner with Richard and Dad, but then files for divorce she could demand a third of the business.  They might have to pay her thousands of pounds to get out of it.  My lovely Dad could lose everything he’s ever worked for because of some silly little slut who can't keep her legs closed.

‘She can't become partner!  She’s planning to divorce him!’

‘Divorce?’ he asks, horrified.  ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes!  Look, we have to stop her!  Talk some bloody sense into him.’

‘OK, OK,’ he says, his face looking hassled.  ‘Let’s just go to a bar and talk through it, OK?’

*
                            *                            *

An hour later we’re in the local wine bar knocking back glasses as if our lives depend on it.   

‘So anyway, you’re going on a road trip with my brother?  Why?’

Jazz avoids my gaze, pretending to look around the bar. 

‘He just said that he doesn’t want to drive up alone and I might as well.’ 

‘He totally wants to shag you.’  I sigh heavily at the mere thought of it.

‘No he doesn’t!  We’re just going as friends,’ she says, trying to hide a smile.

‘Why would you want to though?  I thought you were happy with Jake?’

‘I am!  I’m just friends with Ollie.  We’re just going as friends, OK!’ she suddenly explodes, throwing her hands up defensively.

‘OK, calm down!  Total over-reaction.’  I sigh again.  I don't think I could cope if those two got together.  They both cause me so many problems separately, let alone if they joined forces.  They’d probably be in jail within a week.   

‘I am calm.  Anyway, where the hell is he?’

Hmm, she seems awful keen to change the subject.  I must grill her about this later.  I look around the bar for inspiration and spot Craig in the crowd.  He’s Ollie’s friend that turned out to be gay after years of me fancying him and maybe sending him the occasional love poem.  I wave over politely, expecting him just to wave back, but to my surprise he comes bounding over.

‘Hey gorgeous, small world or what!’ he smiles, squeezing my arm.  It's such a shame he’s gay.  His arms really are beautiful.  All tanned and hairy, just how I like them. 

‘Yeah I know.  If you were straight I’d swear you were following me, ready to drop a date rape in my drink.’

‘You should be so lucky,’ he laughs, exposing his crooked teeth.  He really should get them fixed.  I’m surprised he hasn’t been shunned in the gay community. 

I tap Jazz on the shoulder, who seems to have been distracted by a good looking guy. 

‘Jazz, this is Craig.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ she purrs seductively.  ‘So how do you two know each other?’

Craig does a double take of Jazz’s chosen outfit, which I have to say she has outdone herself with.  Grey sequinned baggy shorts, a loose fitting 80’s crop top that hangs over her bronzed tummy, legwarmers and Jimmy Choos.  The most upsetting part of it all is that no matter how ridiculous she dresses, she always seems to pull it off. 

‘I was friends with her brother when I was younger,’ he explains, winking at me.

‘Oh my God!’  She spits out her mojito.  ‘You’re not Craig that Pops used to fancy when she was younger and you turned out to be gay?’

Oh.  My.  God.  If I had a knife I would stab her.

‘Um...maybe,’ he says, smiling awkwardly at me.  ‘I am gay.  Poppy?  Did you…fancy me?’

‘No!  Of course not!  Jazz is...obviously thinking of someone else,’ I shout, my voice shrill.  I shoot daggers at Jazz with my eyes.

‘So, who you here with?’ he asks looking round.

‘Ollie actually.  He’s around here somewhere,’ I say desperately scanning the crowd for him.

When we finally find him, Craig and his friend, who I assume is gay by his pink leather trousers, suggest going to a local gay bar.

‘Gay bar?  Sounds great!’ Jazz beams, clapping excitedly, already half way outside.

I turn to follow them, Jazz already dancing off down the street, when I spot bakery goth girl running down the street towards me in a red fifties style dress.  I almost don't recognise her.

‘Hey!’ I shout at her.  ‘Bakery girl!’

She turns to stare at me and then smiles, recognising me.  She looks absolutely stunning, her big blue eyes lined with black kohl pencil. 

‘I didn’t know you lived in St Albans,’ she says, still unenthusiastically. 

‘Yeah, small world or what?  I take it you stood me up at Nobo then?’

‘Yeah,’ she says, smiling sheepishly.  ‘I was out with a few old work friends but it’s finished early.’

‘Actually we’re just going on to a gay bar with a few friends if you fancy it?’

She narrows her gaze suspiciously.  ‘Are you SURE you’re not a lesbian?’

*                            *                            *

When I get home from work on Friday I dump my bag down in the hallway and throw myself into bed, kicking off my flat shoes.  Even flat shoes hurt.  Everything hurts. 

‘Pops?’ Jazz pops her head round the door.

‘Jazz?’ 

‘Who else would it be?’  She runs and jumps into bed with me, nestling herself in the duvet.  ‘God, you really have a way of making a bed cosy.  I don't know how you do it.’

‘What’re you doing here?’ I ask, sleepiness taking over my body as my eyelids start to close from the weight.

‘The festival, remember!’  She grabs my cheeks and squeezes them. 

‘Oh crap.  I completely forgot.’  I wonder if she’ll let me cry out.  I seriously cannot even contemplate going to a festival right now.  In fact, just going to the fridge seems too far.  And I’m desperate for a tea. 

‘You’re not still tired from last night are you?’

‘Yes actually, I am!  I don't make a habit of dancing to Madonna in gay bars till two in the morning.  Especially on a school night.’

‘Well, you really should.  I love Craig!  He’s fab!  So funny.’

‘Yeah, he’s great, isn’t he?’ I sigh, remembering how devastated I was when I caught him snogging Peter Morris at Ollie’s 18
th
birthday party.

‘Totally!  I can see why you fancied him.’

‘Yeah, thanks for that by the way.’

‘No probs,’ she smiles.  ‘Even your friend Goth Girl loosened up after a few shots.’

We should really find out her name.

‘She’s actually quite a laugh if you just get her annihilated.  I couldn’t believe it when she flashed the barman,’ she says, giggling at the memory.

I try to smile but I’m too tired to even try.

‘Yeah, but you were hardly any better.  Kissing that bouncer on his bald head and calling him your Buddha.’

‘Ha ha, yeah I’d forgotten about that.’  She laughs, seeming proud of herself.  ‘What about you!  You kept asking everyone if you looked like a lesbian!  What the hell was that all about?’

‘Oh....I don't know,’ I say, playing ignorant.  ‘God, I’m just so tired.  Victor made me colour code all of his files and then he decided he didn’t like the colours.’  

‘Well, don't worry,’ she waves, completely dismissing how soul destroying that must have been.  ‘We’ve still got an hour before we leave.  Oh and Izzy’s convinced Grace and Ryan to come now.’

His name makes my body tense in response.  It feels like I haven’t seen him for days.  Only the odd polite conversation in the morning.  I still haven’t brought myself to ask about Big Tits Tabitha. 

‘Really?’ I ask a little too enthusiastically.

‘Yep.  Two of Jake’s friends had some dodgy curry or something, and now it’s coming out of both ends.’

Gross.  I glance at my watch, suddenly aware of how quickly she got here.

‘Did you finish work early?’

‘Erm...’ she looks around sheepishly.  ‘Yeah....I got a half day.’

‘Jazz,’ I say warningly.  ‘Tell me the truth.’

‘I am telling you the truth!’ she shouts defensively, sitting up, pouting her lips.

‘Really?  Pinky swear?’  I hold up my pinky finger and watch her reaction.  Jazz is the only adult I know that genuinely believes if you pinky swear something that isn’t true you’ll burn in hell, getting tortured by evil pixies.

She opens her mouth to say something and then decides against it.  She slumps over and exhales heavily. 

‘OK!’  She throws herself face down on the bed.  ‘They kind of fired me,’ she muffles through the duvet.

‘They what?’ I ask, dragging her head up by her hair.

‘Ouch!  Don't touch the hair bitch.’

I let go and open my mouth to ask what happened, but the truth is that I’m too exhausted to ask.

‘Let’s just try and have fun,’ she smiles.  ‘We’ll talk about it properly on Monday.  Come on.’  She jumps out of bed and whips the duvet back, exposing me to the cold.

I look outside into the dreary summer evening, clouds looming above, threatening to rain.  Hardly the type of weather needed to sleep in a field. 

‘Ok, what do I need?’  I start searching around for my rucksack unenthusiastically.  She’s not going to give up.

‘You just need something to wear now.’  She opens her wardrobe.  ‘Plus a pair of fresh knickers, socks and a new top for tomorrow.  Oh, and baby wipes and make up.  That should cover it.’

She places a pair of miniature shorts, that look like they could fit a Barbie doll, on the bed with a pink top.

‘Jazz,’ I take her hand.  ‘If you’re gonna force me to go, I’m going in my own clothes.’

*
                            *                            *

‘Jake’s here!’ Jazz calls from the front door. 

I’m actually really looking forward to meeting him.  Especially as Jazz seems so excited whenever she talks about him.  I just hope my brother doesn’t screw it all up for her. 

I walk out into the hallway and find her snogging his face off.  I cough slightly to show that I’m here and they look up, not nearly as embarrassed as they should be.

‘Oh, Jake, this is Poppy,’ she says, smiling as if she slept with a hanger in her mouth.

‘Hi, nice to meet you.’  I smile politely, looking at the child that stands in front of me.

Don't get me wrong, he’s gorgeous – all short blonde hair and blue eyes set against bronzed skin, but my God – he’s so young!  He must only be about 19!  Has he got his Mum’s permission to come this weekend?  They would have really gorgeous children though.

‘You too,’ Jake nods.  ‘Are you driving down with us?’

I look at Jazz, unsure.  Is he even old enough to drive?  ‘I don't know.  Who’s driving?’

‘I’m driving,’ Ryan says, jogging down the stairs in jeans and a black t-shirt. 

I feel a tingle of excitement go through my body and end up in my stomach, bouncing around the edges.  He’s so dreamy. 

‘Are you bringing Izzy and Grace?’ I ask him, trying to sound casual and stop the smile spreading on my face.  I hate how I act like a geeky teenager around him.

‘Yeah.  Girls!  Are you ready yet?’ he shouts up the stairs as if he’s their Dad.

‘Yes!  We’re just coming,’ Izzy shouts.  They both appear, lugging enormous suitcases.

‘You do know we’re only going for one night, right?’ he asks, looking at their cases in concern.

‘Yeah I know,’ Grace says, as she drags her giant black and white case down the stairs.  ‘These are just my essentials.’ 

I smile at her joke, but then realise she’s deadly serious.  Ryan catches my gaze and we both burst out laughing.  Grace shoots me a look which says ‘watch out bitch’.  It makes my stomach churn. 

‘Well, it looks like your car is full, once the luggage is added, so I’ll just go with Jazz and Jake.’

Jazz and Jake.  I didn’t actually realise how alike their names were until I just said it now.  It sounds kind of ridiculous really, like a children’s TV programme.  The adventures of Jazz and Jake.

‘We’ll meet you there then,’ Ryan says.  He smiles his delicious smile that never fails to make me weak at my knees.

I miss him already.

Izzy runs over and gives me a quick kiss, while Grace stares on, daggers in her eyes.  I desperately want to jump into Ryan’s arms and hug those tight arms round me.  I mean, you never know when the last time you see someone will be, do you?  You should make the most out of every day and all that.  But instead I just smile and walk towards the car, trying not to look bothered and desperately trying not to look back at him.

Two hours later and we’re finally here.  I’ve been introduced to Jake’s friend Ringo, who I have a terrifying feeling that Jazz and Jake are trying to fix me up with.  He’s a bit short, still taller than me, obviously, but still short for a man and he’s got dark hair which he’s shaved close to his incredibly round head.  It reminds me of a bowling ball. 

We park up amongst what seems like hundreds of cars and begin to unpack the boot.  The weather hasn’t improved much since we left, and I wrap my cardigan round myself, wishing I hadn’t worn flip flops.

‘Right,’ Jake says, getting out a map.  ‘If we walk this way then we’ll get to our blue camp.’

Blue camp?  How big is this place?  I thought it was just a little festival, not something big enough to have colour coded camps.

‘How big is this festival Jake?’ I ask, after a few minutes of walking, glad the girls have to carry the tent.

‘Well, there are five stages.’

‘Ok...and how many people normally attend?’ I ask, noticing that we’ve still not managed to even walk to the end of the car park.

‘Eighty thousand,’ he says casually.

‘Eighty thousand people?’

Oh my God.  I think I’m going to hyperventilate.  There was me thinking that this would be just a little festival with a few hundred people and it turns out to be one of the biggest festivals in England.  I mean, are there even that many people living in England?  Of course, I suppose there must be.

‘So, are you into rock then Pops?’ Ringo asks me as we walk.  Still in the car park, I might add.

I hate how he’s already shortened my name to Pops.  I’ve only known him two hours and he already thinks he’s my new best friend.  Maybe I’ll call him Ring and see how he likes it.  I hope Jazz hasn’t given him false hope about hooking up with me. 

‘Sorry, did you say rock?’ I ask, thinking I must have miss-heard.

‘Yeah...you do know that this is a rock festival, right?’

‘Oh...yeah, of course.  Love all the rock.  Even eat it sometimes!’  I laugh nervously.

He narrows his eyes at me suspiciously as I get my phone out of my pocket, hoping that he’ll stop talking to me.  Jazz glances back and smiles nervously.  I discreetly put my finger up to my neck and drag it to the other side, signalling that when we’re on our own she is dead.  I do think that the fact it's a rock festival should have been brought up in conversation when describing this.  But of course, she knew I wouldn’t have come.  She grimaces slightly and turns back.

‘Shall we ring the others and tell them where to go?’ I ask, suddenly wishing that Ryan were here to reassure me. 

‘I’ve text them and said we’ll meet them at camp,’ Jazz answers coolly, swigging from a bottle of vodka.

‘But...if there are eighty thousand people...’ God, it panics me just even saying that number, ‘then, how do you expect them to find us?’

‘They won't be that far behind us.’

*                            *                            *

An hour later, I’m starting to panic.  Its 9pm, getting dark and I’m sat round a fire that Ringo and Jake have made, wondering where the hell they are. 

‘So, are you girls ready to go and see a band?’ Jake asks getting to his feet excitedly.

My body tenses.  Please, please, please God, don't make me go.

‘I’m just going to try their phones one more time.’  I get out my phone and press re-dial, not holding out much hope.

‘Hello?’  I don't believe it!  I’ve never been more pleased to hear Izzy’s voice.  ‘Izzy!  Thank God!  Where are you?’

‘We’re in the blue camp, but I don't really know...Oh wait, Ryan wants to speak.’

‘Hi, Poppy?’ Ryan asks, sounding disgruntled.  Just hearing his voice, no matter how pissed off, makes me feel calmer.  Something about him makes me feel safer.  Maybe it's because I’m currently with children, who I feel I should be being paid to look after.

‘Hi,’ I swoon, almost breathless.

‘We’re in blue camp, but what are you near?’ he asks, sounding rattled.

‘Um...’ I look around desperately for some kind of sign or big feature that I can direct him to.  ‘I’m not actually sure.  Jake, what are we near?’

‘Tell him we’re in section 205.’

‘Did you hear that?  Section 205.’

‘Yeah ok, I heard him.  We’re in section 205 but I still can't see you.  Jesus, I didn’t realise that so many people were gonna be here.’  He sounds thoroughly pissed off.

‘I know!  Me neither.  Wait, there’s a chair here I can jump on.’  I jump up on a stranger’s chair and try and ignore the looks I get from the strange bearded owners.  I look around, still on my tip toes and start calling his name.

‘Wait, I can hear you,’ he says, a bit of relief showing in his voice.

‘Of course you can hear me, I’m shouting in your ear!’

‘I mean I can hear an echo, idiot,’ he snaps.

‘I’m waving like an idiot too,’ I add, ignoring his impatience.

‘Oh wait, I see you.  Be there in a sec’.  He hangs up. 

I remain stood on the chair, just in case they can't see me, when eventually I see them weaving around someone’s tent, lugging the giant suitcases and tent equipment.

‘Thank God!’ I squeal running towards them.  I throw myself against Ryan and hug him tight without thinking.  ‘I never thought I’d be so glad to see you,’ I say, before realising how clingy and mental I must look.  I quickly pull back.

‘Poppy!  I’m trying to carry everything if, you hadn’t noticed,’ he snaps, his face flushed.

‘Well, sorry for breathing,’ I retort, hurt.  I turn back to the others and try not to take it personally. 

‘Well now that everyone’s here, why don't we go and see a band?’ Jake asks, eager as ever.

‘Actually, I’m pretty tired.  I could do with just chilling here tonight,’ Grace says, lighting up a cigarette.

For once, I’m actually glad to hear her speak.

‘I agree,’ Izzy chimes in.  ‘Plus, I’m not really a mad rock girl.’

‘Oh, well...ok,’ Jake says, seeming deflated.

I start to settle back down onto the chair that doesn’t belong to me. 

‘Come on then Pops,’ Ringo says, holding out his hand.

‘Huh?’ I ask confused, looking at his hand in horror.

‘You love rock, remember?’ he reminds me, like I’m his best friend.

‘Oh,
P-o-p-s
,’ Ryan says, accentuating my name as if to show he finds it hilarious that Ringo has shortened my name already.  ‘I didn’t
realise
you loved rock so much.’ 

I look back at his smug smiling face and shoot him the meanest look I can muster.  He’s not going to help me get out of this.  He’s just going to watch on in amusement. 

‘Well actually, I only started loving it after hearing so much about it from
you
.’ I smile devilishly.  I turn back to Ringo and Jake.  ‘You see, Ryan here is a
massive
rock fan.’

Damn it, if I’m going down then he’s coming with me.

‘Oh great!’ Ringo says, enthused.  ‘Come on then guys – AC/DC are headlining’.

Ryan glares at me, all previous amusement gone.  Izzy and Grace look on, smiling as they begin to set up their leopard print tent that Izzy insisted on buying.  At least it will be easy for me to remember which tent I’m sleeping in. 

‘I have to set up my tent and stuff,’ Ryan says, obviously playing for time.

‘We’ll help,’ Jake offers.

‘Oh....OK, thanks,’ Ryan says, glaring at me again.

Jake and Ringo help him set up his tent and when they’re all up I’m suddenly glad to be going for a walk.  There’s so many tents here its making me feel claustrophobic.  Miles and miles of tents as far as I can see. 

It's completely pitch black by the time we set out walking, the only light coming from small fires and the dim temporary lights along the main pathways.  It reminds me of every scary movie I’ve seen, but I feel safer knowing that Ryan is with me.  Unlike short arsed Ringo, he’s strong enough to fight off a crazed killer.  Ringo probably couldn’t even fight off Justin Bieber. 

It takes us a good half hour before we get to the stage and when we do, I can't believe the size of it.  If I thought that the tents were making me feel closed in, then this was sure to make me lose my mind.  There must be at least twenty thousand people dancing in front of this stage alone, and they all look completely off their faces on drugs; their pupils black and crazed. 

‘Come on,’ Jake signals to us, weaving himself through the crowd to try and get a better spot.

Ryan follows him and I cling instinctively onto the side of his t-shirt, scared of getting parted from him.  Everyone seems taller than me, and images of me being crushed underneath them flash through my mind.  I probably wouldn’t be found for days.  But then it would probably be a cool way to go.  Everyone would think I was a cool, mad rocker who parties all the time.  They’ll say ‘she died doing what she loved best – partying hard’.  Then they’ll put on that song ‘we like to party hard’ and everyone will dance around my coffin.

Jake finally finds a spot he finds acceptable and starts dancing around like a crazy person.  I say dancing, it's more jumping up and down and waving his hands in the air.  Like Dad dancing, while having an electric shock.  I look around, still at a loss.  We’re still miles away from the stage, the performers seeming like tiny ants, listening to shit music, being crushed by thousands of people and the beer stand is about, well about two thousand people away. 

I seem to be getting pushed continuously, from either side, as women with rainbow coloured hair in dreadlocks, and body hair down to their knees dance around me.  Each time I turn automatically to apologise, they ignore me, seeming on another planet; their blood shot eyes reminding me of an animal.  It's far too un-nerving. 

Ryan catches my eye and I know he’s just as miserable as me.

‘Do you wanna go?’ he shouts in my ear, resting his hand on my lower back so I can hear him.

My skin burns at his touch and I shudder, wondering if he has any idea of the effect he has on me. 

‘Yeah, do you?’ I shout back, loving how close I have to get to him so that he can hear me.

‘Hell yeah,’ he shouts, smiling widely.  We both collapse laughing and I feel warm, loving how we have our own inside joke.  I begin to imagine what it would be like to be with him, to own him.  Images of us laughing on our wedding day flash through my mind.  Then us laughing over our baby spitting out porridge at the breakfast table.  I know I’m getting ridiculously ahead of myself, but I allow myself the indulgence for half a second. 

‘We’re going,’ I signal to the others, getting a hold of myself.  There’s no way they’ll be able to hear me. 

Ringo comes running over. 

‘I’ll come with you guys,’ he shouts, signalling at Jazz and Jake who’re snogging each other’s faces off again.

Oh great. 

Ryan puts his arm around my waist and guides me out of the stage arena.  I feel so safe and protected when he’s around.  When we get out of the stage arena and begin walking amongst hundreds of tents, his hand drops.  The urge to grab hold of it, with it being so close to mine that I can feel the heat from it, is unbearable.  Literally unbearable.  Every now and again the back of his fingers will brush against mine and we’ll awkwardly apologise to each other.   

‘You getting tired Pops?’ Ringo asks me after about twenty minutes of walking, breaking me out of my concentration not to touch Ryan.

‘No, I’m fine,’ I lie, wishing he’d just leave me alone.  He’s really beginning to annoy me.

‘Don't worry,’ Ringo says, slipping his arm round my waist.  ‘You can always lean on me if you’re tired.’

I look down, horrified, realising that he intends to leave his hand there.  Oh God, this is terrible.  His clammy hand is staying draped around me.  I resist the urge to throw him off and punch him in the face, reasoning that it would probably be mean.  Ryan looks over, a comical grin on his face.  I try to show as much discomfort on my face as possible but he just seems to find it even funnier. 

Luckily it's not long until we’re back at camp.  I spot the leopard print tent first and then Izzy and Grace who seem to have been getting to know the bearded guys in the tent next to us a lot better.  They’re sat on fold up chairs, flirting outrageously and smoking what I’m sure is weed. 

‘Hey guys.’

‘Hey, you’re back,’ Izzy slurs.  ‘Have a beer.  These are our new friends.’

She goes around the group and introduces them to us, but I forget their names as soon as she’s told us, more interested in what their tattoos are of.  So far I’ve spotted an eagle eating a chicken, a dog on a motorbike and a ‘love you mum’. 

I get a warm beer and sit around the fire, as far away from Ringo as I can.  I down the first one, thirstier than I thought and then grab another.  My body begins to de-clench and I relax, glad to no longer have Ringo touching me.  I listen to the distant hum of the rock music and stare into orange and blue flames of the fire.