Queenie(62)

“Why didn’t you just call me?” I asked.

“Why weren’t you just listening?” she said.

“Cassandra, why have you followed me home?”

“My umbrella, it’s in your hallway,” she huffed. “I was at the bus stop and saw that it was going to rain again!”

We reached the front door and I opened it. Silence. No Guy. I pulled Cassandra’s umbrella from the coatrack and handed it to her.

“Anyway, now I really will go. I must get back to my guy, he was having a lads’ night yesterday and I said I’d make him a hangover breakfast.”

“Yes, Cassandra, it must be so nice having a nice man around! How wonderful for you to have someone actually care where you are and how you are,” I half-snapped as I heard stirrings from my bedroom. I looked up the stairs.

“You don’t need to be jealous, Queenie. When you’re good and ready, you’ll find someone like my—” Guy began to walk down the stairs, his eyes half-open. “Guy.”

“Well, we can’t all be as lucky as you,” I said. “Morning, Guy. I trust you slept well?” I said sarcastically as he stared at Cassandra. “Sorry, I should introduce you. Cassandra, this is Guy.” I gestured quickly at Guy, hoping that he’d nod a hello and then make a swift exit.

“Guy, what the fuck?” Cassandra’s olive skin flushed red and her eyes darkened. She looked like she was summoning a demon.

“What?” I asked, bemused. “Cassandra, this is . . . Guy,” I repeated, looking at Guy, then to Cassandra. Guy sat on the steps and lowered his head into his hands.

“No, Queenie, this is my boyfriend, Guy,” Cassandra spat, pushing me on the shoulder. I am sturdy so didn’t fall over, but the impact was felt.

“I’m sorry, Cass,” Guy said, muffled, his head still in his hands.

“You’re sorry?” Cassandra shrieked. “We barely have sex and it’s because you’ve been fucking my best friend, Guy?” She charged toward him but tripped on the first step and fell, landing on her knee. I rushed over to help her up.

“Don’t touch me. You slut.” I felt like the floor disappeared under my feet.

“What?” I said, not really grasping what was happening. I went to close the front door. As I did, I saw the woman opposite standing on her front step. She must think that I’m running some sort of twenty-four-hour dramatic workshop from the house.

The hallway was silent but for the sounds of three people’s varied breathing. I felt my stomach toss and turn. I looked at Cassandra, then at Guy. “Cassandra, I didn’t know! How could I? You’ve only been together a couple of months!” I said quickly, defending myself. “I didn’t ever meet him!”

Cassandra pulled herself up, rubbing her knee. “And why do you think that is, Queenie? I knew that if you met him, you’d want to fuck him, like you fuck literally all men who look your way these days! Single, attached, married, anything!”

I walked back over to the stairs and held on to the banister out of fear that my legs were going to go.

“For hours I listen to you tell me about the pointless, horrific users you go and spread your legs for, the ones you’ve just met in bars, the ones you trawl for on those disgusting, sad, lonely dating apps and pick like you’re choosing from a box of chocolates. And don’t think that’s a slight about your weight, I know how sensitive you are about everything. I’m talking purely about the men you select, the ones you either have here that you kick out after they’ve given you what you need, or those ones whose houses you turn up at in the middle of the night and let do God knows what to you. Oh—and obviously this must be one of them! Clearly! My boyfriend must be one of them, one of those faceless dating app guys that you don’t even name when you tell me about them. Let me guess where he comes in the sequence? First, second, thirtieth? I hope you’ve been using protection!”

“All right, Cassandra,” Guy said, finally emerging from the sand in which he’d buried his head. “Stop shouting at her. My head’s killing me.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shouted at Guy. “You must have known!” I stared at him.

“That’s it, you two talk to each other like I’m not here,” Cassandra roared and stamped her foot. Guy and I both turned to look at her, briefly connected by the disbelief that an adult person could be acting so like a child.

“Cassandra, I didn’t know, how many more times can I say? I met him at a party and he didn’t tell me anything about himself! You’re one of my best friends, why would I do this to you? What sense would that make?” I pleaded with her.

“Because you’re fucking miserable, and you’re pathetic, and since you broke up with Tom all you can do is fuck, fuck, fuck, to fill a fucking void,” Cassandra shouted hysterically. “And of course you’ve done it with my fucking boyfriend. And a million others. You make me sick. I’m leaving, I can’t look at either of you. Stay here and carry on fucking each other.” Cassandra opened the front door and slammed it on the way out.

Guy looked at me and held his hands up. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happ—”

“My God, get the fuck out, Guy. You’re the fucking worst!” I was so overwhelmed by disgust and regret and upset that I could barely see.