Queenie(31)
“I know, but I didn’t buy you a new one. Should I have?” she asked, holding up her purse. “Lunch?”
* * *
I couldn’t bear to go home, so I left the office well after dark. As I walked to the bus stop, Ted fell in step with me. “Hey, you,” he said softly. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, thanks.” I carried on walking, still trying to avoid getting myself in a sticky situation. I’d already found myself in some very compromising positions of late.
“Fancy a drink?” he asked. “I’m on lates, popped out for a smoke. We could head across the road for a swift one?”
I wanted to go, but I also knew that going would make me want to kiss him. “No, I’ve got to get home!”
“Nice scarf, by the way. I knew it would suit you.” I stopped walking.
“This was you? Why did you—oh, thanks for that, I guess?” I said, surprised.
“Why are you so shocked?” Ted laughed.
“Just that nobody ever buys me anything, is all. And you . . . don’t know me well enough?”
“Not for want of trying,” Ted said.
“If you’re on lates, you should get back to work. I have to go! My bus!” I said, then sprinted to the bus stop, holding my breasts down under my arm and panting aggressively after about fifteen yards. I should not, under any circumstances, get involved with this. I should not, under any circumstances, try to run again.
* * *
I spent Saturday morning in bed, my stomach growling. At lunchtime Rupert knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to have lunch with everyone. “No thanks!” I said. “I’d sooner die,” I added in a whisper.
“What was that last bit?” he asked.
“I said I’m going for pie.” I pulled the covers over my head, burrowing into my pillows and looking through mine and Tom’s message thread. I noted how many arguments we’d had. Most of them started by me. Top three were:
1.
Tom
What do you want for your birthday?
Queenie
Oh.
Tom
What?
Queenie
So you’re not going to put any effort into it? You’re literally going to just ask me like that
Tom
Well for your last two birthdays and Christmas just gone, you’ve been disappointed by what I’ve got you, it’s perfectly logical to ask, surely?
Queenie
Tom, do you want ME? Or do you want someone you can MOLD into the girl you want for yourself?
Tom
Oh God
Queenie
Oh God, indeed. Just get me GIFT CARDS, Tom, if disappointing ME is killing you
2.
Queenie
I’ve been thinking
Tom
Oh dear. Go on
Queenie
I don’t understand why you don’t want to introduce me to your colleagues
Tom
What? I didn’t know that you wanted to meet them. They’re not particularly interesting
Queenie
Well, I DO, because I’m your GIRLFRIEND, I’m meant to be a huge part of your life, and I feel totally hidden away from what you do every day, and the people you do it with
Queenie
Are you ashamed of me?
Queenie
Do your colleagues know I’m black?
Tom
What? Why should they?
Queenie
I see
Queenie
It’s fine
Queenie
I’ve decided I don’t want to meet them. Don’t want to give them a shock
3.
Queenie
I feel like you need to think more about my orgasms
Tom
Oh, trust me, I do
Queenie
DO you?
Tom
You’re always satisfied, aren’t you?
Queenie
Well, yeah, but how much are you THINKING about them? But not just thinking, I mean feeling. Like SOMETIMES it feels like it’s a chore for you
Tom
Well, it’s not
Queenie
I don’t know, I feel like you’re concentrating so much on ME that I can’t just let go. Sometimes I feel like I’m having an orgasm FOR you
Tom
I don’t understand what your argument is here
Queenie
Forget it
Tom
Okay
Queenie
What do you mean, “okay”? Don’t you want to communicate about this?
Tom
I’m in a meeting
Queenie
So am I, Tom, but it’s important that we talk about these things
When I woke up, it was dusk and my phone was still in my hand. I checked the screen and saw two texts from Darcy.
Darcy
See you later, Simon’s party starts at nine. It’s at that bar in Dalston, the one where he smashed his tooth xxx