“You and Steven need to make up,” Tracy said, practically beaming at me. “Isn’t it about time you two got a place of your own? ”
I rolled my eyes. “The state of you, worrying about your old granny’s love life.
”
“No, I just like to be able to use the bathroom in the morning. ”
It was meant to be a joke, but the truth stung. She wasn’t wrong. After I turned down Steve’s proposal, I couldn’t stomach the idea of going into work.
The humiliation of it all—and of course, Tracy had heard the whole miserable mess before I even had a chance to process it. “You and Steve are made for each other,” she said, handing me a brew. “Then why do I keep messing it up? ”
“Come on.
We all mess things up. It’s how we clean up afterwards that counts. ”
I sighed. “Thank you, Oprah.
”
“You love him, right? ”
“Yeah, I do. ”
“And he loves you. Well, he must do, to forgive you for all the stunts you’ve pulled.
So go and get him, tiger. ”
I wanted to believe her. But after this morning, I wasn’t so sure. The flowers arrived at the café just as I was about to leave.
A delivery guy walked in, holding a big bunch. Tracy took them, read the card, and let out a laugh that made my blood run cold. “Oh. Made your day, have I?
Me slapping Tracy Barlow. ”
“Oh, we’ve all been tempted. ”
But the moment I saw the flowers, I knew they weren’t for her. They were for me.
From Steve. An apology. Funny thing was, by the time he sent them, I was already gone. —
That morning, Steve and I had been at each other’s throats again.
He’d been sleeping on the sofa, we’d been snapping at each other over everything, and the whole flat felt like a pressure cooker. When he said he had to go out, I followed him. I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted to see if he meant what he said.
Maybe I wanted to catch him doing something stupid. I caught him doing something stupid, all right. He was at the café, talking to Tracy. I could hear parts of it through the window.
Steve, Steve, Steve. The most married man in Weatherfield. And let’s be real, even now, when you’re past your prime, you’re still getting proposed to. “And I’m getting slapped in the bargain.
”
“What did you say to provoke her? ” Tracy asked. “Is everything always my fault? ”
“In my experience, yes.
”
I felt my stomach drop. I turned around and walked away before I could hear more. Before I could see him smile about all of it. —
I wandered the streets for a while.
I didn’t know where to go. I couldn’t go back to my flat—the landlord had made that impossible. The damp, the mold, the smell. I’d been telling him about it for weeks, and he’d ignored me.
Then Jack had ended up in hospital because of it, his little lungs wheezing from the black mold I’d warned everyone about. “Look, the mold will have gone, you’ll have brand new carpets, and the whole place will be painted,” the landlord said when I finally ran into him at the bar. “It’s costing me a pretty penny, like. ”
“Yeah, well, it’s going to cost you even more when I take legal action.
”
“Oh, there’s no need for that. I’m doing everything I can to fix things. ”
“Save it for court, eh? ”
He was a slimy, nasty piece of work.
And I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Not this time. —
That night, I found myself in the hotel bar. I didn’t want to be alone.
I’d had a couple of vodkas when a bloke sat down next to me. “All right? ” he said. “Yeah, good.
”
“It’s not about you, but I hate drinking on me own. Makes me feel like a right saddo. ”
“Yeah, I sort of saddo myself over a bit. ”
He laughed.
“I’m just trying to be sociable. Get your drink. You can buy me, too. It’s happy hour, isn’t it?
”
“Be my pleasure. ”
“Proper gent you are, aren’t you? ”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, love. ”
“Glad to hear it.
”
We talked for a while. He said his name was Tony. He was friendly, charming even. I thought maybe I’d found someone to pass the time with, someone who didn’t know all the mess I’d made of my life.
Then he leaned in. “I could tempt you with a little nightcap in my room. We’re booked till 7:00. I’m sure we could find something to pass the time.
”
I pulled away, disgusted. “Get off me. You’re drunk. ”
“You expect?
I’ve been here all happy hour. ”
“No, love. I only had a drink with you because I felt sorry for you. ”
“Oh, well, you could have fooled me.
You were coming on pretty strong earlier. ”
“Yeah, you tell yourself that if it makes you feel better. Read my lips. Not interested.
”
He stood up, swaying. “Take my advice, get some sleep. Because all this—that’s not a good look. ”
I laughed.
“And to be honest, hookers don’t do all this trawling around hotel bars anymore. It’s all done online now, love. You want to get with the times. ”
“I was only trying to be friendly,” he muttered.
“You read that one wrong, didn’t you? ”
He stormed off, shouting something about being more interested in his own drink anyway. I sat there, alone again, with my empty glass and my aching heart. Flipping men.
—
The next morning, I found out that Steve had come looking for me. He’d been to the café, to the flat, everywhere. He’d left a voicemail, but I didn’t listen to it. I couldn’t.
George, the hotel owner, saw me in the lobby. “You all right, love? You look like you’ve been up all night. ”
“Something like that.
”
“Your brother’s been looking for you. Tyrone. He called twice. ”
I nodded.
“I know. ”
“Are you going to call him back? ”
“In a minute. ”
I wasn’t.
Not yet. I went up to my room and opened my bag. Inside, I found a stack of credit card statements that Glenda had been sending George. She’d been going through my things, photographing everything, trying to find evidence that I was conning him.
She didn’t find anything. But she did find one thing I’d forgotten about. A name. Lenny.
I stared at it for a long time. A name from my past. A name I’d thought I’d buried for good. But I knew I couldn’t run from it forever.
I knew that if I wanted to move forward, I had to face it. And I knew, more than anything, that I couldn’t do it alone.
