I keep having flashes of Bibi and Alex cuddled up in bed at Alex’s house. Laughing together behind my back. Revelling in their lies. Kissing, having sex, barely caring what they’ve done to me. Deep in the darkest of these moments – even while knowing they wouldn’t do this – I picture them whispering my secrets to each other. I pull the covers back again, ignoring the odour, and stare down at myself. My body is grotesque and shapeless in baggy mismatching pyjamas. Underneath them I feel ugly and rejected. In this moment, I am a monster. A monster that Bibi and Alex are laughing about in their love cocoon.
A massive wave of rice cake nausea passes over me and I grab for one of the fifty empty coffee cups by my bed. I dry heave but nothing comes up, so I hover there over the mug. I study the swirling brown stained bottom and listen for noises in the flat. I can hear Lou, moving about, clattering in the kitchen, but she’s alone. From what I’ve gathered, Bibi has been gone since our fight. Louise has knocked a few times and I saw her once when I went to the loo but I haven’t wanted to talk yet. Not about all this. Not about what I’ve lost.
But you know what? Maybe I haven’t lost all that much. Maybe Bibi and I weren’t even really very good friends anyway.
I mean, she’s not even a very nice person! After all, she can be so cold and mean. She’s so rude to people – like her boss, Franco! He’s a decent person, sweet and unassuming. She’s so cruel to him without any reason. I don’t know why I haven’t thought about this much before. She’s a bitch! I don’t need that kind of toxic negativity and meanness in my life. And clearly she’s a disloyal liar, we know this now, too. Actually, now I’m thinking about it, she’salwaysbeen secretive and cagey. I know we joke about wanting to find out her real name but why hasn’t she ever told us? Lou and I share everything with her and she likes to have this sort ofpowerover us by keeping us in the dark about her life. It’s pathetic. I’m done with her, I really am. Even if we somehow get past all of this Alex shit, I don’t think we can really be close mates ever again. She’s a mess in my life that I’m Marie Kondo-ing.
I don’t need Bibi or Alex. I don’t need any of them. And I think I know what I’ll do about Carl now.
I’ll go to A’Diva.
EX 2: CARL HURSTAKA The Work MistakePART TWO
A’Diva Restaurant
The stockroom
1.12am
‘We’re missing a whole delivery of onions,’ I yell from inside my cupboard. No one replies. I bet the fuckers have all gone home, while I’ve been stuck with stocktake, yet again.
I take a moment to perch on a shelf stacked with potatoes and close my eyes. I’m totally exhausted; totally drained. I’ve been here since 8am, and will have to be back – to do it all over again – in seven hours. I’ve never worked like this in my life.
But it’s worth it. The things I’m learning, the range of food, the joy of making top-quality meals – it’s all so worth it.
And, I can’t lie, it’s also worth it because of him.
I’ve felt his eyes on me all night. Watching me across the kitchen as I move from plate to plate. Iknowhe feels it. I know it from the small, secret smiles we’ve shared, the moments of intense eye contact. It’s close to being unbearable. It’s been building for weeks now and I know something is about to break.
Of course I know it’s a terrible idea and I definitely shouldn’t do it. Having sex with my boss? With my hero? It’s all a terrible, terrible, terrible idea and I definitely won’t do it.
Not even if he begs.
OK, maybe if he begs.
Maybe I’ll beg?
All my friends say I shouldn’t do this. Shelley says I’ll get sacked, Lou says I’ll get hurt. But at this point I would gladly take both of those for one night with Carl.
I put my head in my hands and sink further, deeper into my daydream. I picture us kissing, us touching, us fucking. Carl flipping me around and over like I’m a tiny doll. Him inside me and us both finishing in a hailstorm of messy, filthy bodily fluids.
‘Hello.’ I jump at the greeting, opening my eyes to Carl’s voice. I feel insanely guilty, like I’ve used him in my fantasies without his permission. Can he tell what I was just thinking? I know he can’t, that’s stupid. But the way he’s looking at me, I’d swear he knew. I laugh nervously, taking in his outline in the dimly lit doorway.
‘You’re always sneaking up on me when I have myeyes shut,’ I point out, glad of the semi-darkness hiding my red face.
He smiles. ‘Well, you have your eyes shut a lot.’
Oh god, I honestly don’t know if I can survive this tension between us. It feels like I might die.
I gulp, looking away. ‘Has everyone gone?’ I ask in a husky whisper and he takes a step towards me.
‘Yes.’ His voice is deep and full of something. ‘It’s just you and me left. Just us, Little Esther Adams. The two of us alone, in the stockroom, in the dark.’
I can’t resist looking up at him again. We stare at each other for a long ten seconds, the energy sparking between us in the dark silence.
It’s too much. I will explode if I don’t kiss him. I can’t resist him any longer.
I launch forward, grabbing him by the scruff of his chef whites and pulling him in to me. His lips on mine, we kiss frantically, hands everywhere. Clothes are coming off in all directions and I vaguely note the thud of potatoes rolling off the shelf beside me. He deftly yanks my underwear off and lifts me by my butt, up onto him. I wrap my legs around his middle and feel him pressing against me.
