The Debt & the Doormat(25)

‘Hold me down? What the-‘

Before I can even finish my sentence Izzy throws me back on the bed and restrains me by my wrists.

‘Izzy! This is totally unnecessary!’ I shriek.

‘Here we go!’ Jazz sings, her fag still in her mouth. She rips open my dressing gown, exposing not just the wax strips, but also the rest of the vagina.

‘Don't look Izzy! I don't want you to see me like this,’ I shriek, cringing.

‘Don't worry. You’ve seen one vagina, you’ve seen them all,’ she laughs, still restraining me heavily.

How is she so strong? She’s only little. Jazz clasps onto one strip and flicks it back quickly. I scream in agony.

‘Jazz! Fuck!’ I scream.

‘What? This is what I’m here for remember,’ she says, rolling her eyes.

Izzy loosens her grip for a second to get the bottle of wine for me. She puts it into my mouth and I start glugging. The second strip getting removed is more painful than the two others put together.

‘FUCK!’ I shout, trying to throw them off.

‘Stop kicking!’ Jazz giggles.

‘Is everything ok in there?’ Ryan shouts at the door.

‘Yep, it's all cool,’ Jazz shouts giggling. She turns to me. ‘Do you want the spliff?’

‘No! You know I don't do drugs. And neither should you!’

She ignores me and turns to Izzy. ‘Izzy, get ready,’ she gestures to her with the fag in her hand.

‘Ok! Maybe I’ll have a fag to steady my nerves,’ I say, giving in.

The next two minutes are the most painful I’ve ever experienced. Jazz continued to attack the strips, while Izzy at first calmly fed me wine and puffs of the fag. By the end she just clamped her hand over my mouth so that Ryan couldn’t hear the screams.

‘Good as new,’ Jazz beams when they’re all off.

‘Never again,’ I stammer, my whole body still trembling.

‘You’re welcome,’ they both say at the same time.

‘Well, I think it's pretty clear that I’ll never be able to give birth.’

‘Why the hell would you want to?’ Jazz says. ‘So anyway, have you decided what you want to do for your birthday yet?’

‘What?’ I groan, the stinging still not dying down. ‘How many damn times do I have to tell – ‘

‘Ok! Jesus,’ she says, putting her hand up in defence.

‘When’s it your birthday Pops?’ Izzy asks, obviously already having fantasies about pink bouncy castles.

‘It's next Saturday,’ Jazz informs her. ‘But she hates celebrating it because she always has bad luck.’

‘Really?’ Izzy giggles. ‘Worse than normal?’

‘Yes, but I’d rather not talk about it,’ I snap, the memories still raw.

‘Well I still think you should do something. Actually, Jake and I are going to some festival next Friday night with a few of his friends. Why don't we all go? It can be your half arsed birthday celebration.’

‘Yay! Let’s do it!’ Izzy squeals.

‘Festival?’ Images of mud, baked beans and peeing in bushes flash through my head.

‘Yes, f-e-s-t-i-v-a-l,’ she says, slowly as if I’m retarded. ‘Apparently they go every year and they’ve got a few spare tickets.’

‘Oh, you’re really selling it to me. Sounds well popular.’

‘Stop rolling your eyes, it’ll be fun! And I’m taking that as a yes,’ Jazz confirms.

‘Do I even have a choice?’

‘God, you’re so dramatic. Of course you don't have a choice. You wanna come shopping with me to get some camping gear?’

‘Camping gear? What the hell do we need? Plus, I thought you weren’t supposed to be spending money!’

‘Oh yeah, but if it's a necessity.’

She’s a nightmare.

‘Are you girls OK in there?’ Ryan asks, knocking on the door again.

‘You can come in now,’ Jazz announces. I quickly make sure my dressing gown is done up.

He pops his head round the door. ‘You want some chips?’

‘Only if you can feed all of us,’ Jazz challenges.

‘Of course,’ he laughs.

I quickly slip on some tracksuit bottoms and a vest top, before following them into the kitchen. He places down onto the table a massive tray of chips and some bread and butter.

‘Did you know we were coming?’ Jazz asks.

‘Let’s just say that I had a hunch you’d want feeding,’ he laughs.

‘You mean you thought Jazz would be getting high?’ I ask.

He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t answer.

‘Jazz, when the hell are you gonna stop smoking that crap?’

‘Maybe you should start,’ she says, ignoring my gaze like a sulky teenager.

‘Tell me when,’ he says, as he spoons chips onto my plate. He keeps pausing after each spoonful, but there’s hardly any chips on my plate.

‘Keep going,’ I say, irritated at his slow pace.

‘I like a girl who eats,’ he says grinning.

‘From what I hear you like all girls,’ I say before I can stop myself, my mouth half full with bread.

Jazz and Izzy chuckle. Oh great Poppy. Why did I say that? It makes me sound like a jealous pratt.

‘Well, the ones I know normally don't eat,’ he says, smiling. ‘Especially not to this extent.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Well I grew up with three brothers. I’ve learnt to eat while I can.’

Jazz winks at me.

‘So anyway, how is that creep from work?’ Jazz asks as she refuses a second spoonful from Ryan.

‘What creep at work?’ Ryan asks with a mouthful of bread.

‘Oh...it’s nothing,’ I shrug, trying to kick Jazz under the table.

‘It's hardly nothing,’ Jazz exclaims. ‘She found out her one night lover is her boss’s son and now he’s touching her up.’

‘You are joking?’ he says, his tone slow and serious.

‘It's no big deal,’ I shrug. My eyes sting with sudden urgent tears. Do NOT cry in front of him. It must be the wine. ‘I got myself in this mess by being a reckless little slut.’ My chin wobbles with the threat of bursting into sobs.

‘Oh, Pops. Don't get upset. It’ll be ok,’ Izzy says, resting her hand on my shoulder.

‘Our Poppy likes to be a bit dramatic,’ Jazz laughs.

‘I only bloody did it because you told me to!’ I shout, unable to stop myself breaking into a light sob, my nose suddenly full of snot. Why couldn’t I be a pretty crier?

‘Sorry? Jazz is pimping you out now?’ Ryan asks darting his eyes between us both.

I stuff a mouthful of my chip butty into my mouth and hope this will stop me from having to answer. Yet when I look up he’s still staring, analysing, searching for some kind of explanation. Didn’t anyone ever teach him it's rude to stare?

‘You know I’m in control of Poppy’s life at the moment,’’ Jazz says, leaning back, leaving her food and lighting up another cigarette.

‘Sorry? So you decided that she should sleep with him?’

I don't like how they’re talking like I’m not here.

‘Well...yes. And I mean, at the time, she didn’t really put up that much of a struggle, let me tell you.’ She winks at me.

I glare at her as I drop a bit of ketchup onto the table. Damn it! Why am I such a klutz? And why am I allowing them to discuss my sex life? Ryan hands me a tea towel and I snatch it off him, annoyed at myself.

‘I was just glad to remember how to do it!’ I laugh, suddenly feeling the effects of the wine again.

‘Remember it? Why? How long have you not had sex for?’ Ryan asks, his eyes penetrating me in disbelief.

‘Um...’

‘Ryan!’ Izzy shouts. ‘That's rude to ask her!’

‘She’d practically gone back in time and become a virgin again,’ Jazz chuckles.

‘Thanks Jazz!’ I shout, kicking her under the table.

‘Wow,’ he breathes, completely shell shocked.

‘I’m sure that the concept of no sex for a slut like you seems ridiculous but I don't make a habit of sleeping around,’ I bark.

‘And I do?’ he says, taken aback.

‘Well...that’s what I’ve heard anyway.’ I risk a look at Izzy who avoids my gaze. I take a large glug of wine, needing it’s calming reassurance.

‘I can't believe this guy at work though. I think someone needs to have a word with him.’ His eyes turn fiercely protective.

‘Don't worry. I can handle myself,’ I say, suddenly worried that he’s going to hunt him down.

‘Well, I’m not so sure about that.’ He smiles and points to a bit of ketchup that's stained my top.

‘Why are you so worried anyway?’ Izzy asks, intrigued, as I struggle to remove the stain with a bit of kitchen roll.

‘Am I?’ he asks vaguely.

‘Well...you just seem kind of...worried about her,’ Izzy says, her voice full of hidden questions.

I drop my eyes immediately in a flush of embarrassment.

‘Well, from what she’s proved so far, I’d say it's a normal reaction from anyone around her,’ he smirks.

‘Oh thanks!’ I kick him hard under the table.

His eyes flick up at me from under his lashes, the hint of a smirk on his face. He stares, his eyes hypnotising me, enveloping me, putting me under his spell. My breathing starts to quicken and I remind myself not to lean in.