The Debt & the Doormat(50)

‘Oh great,’ I scoff.

‘Where have they got to?’ she asks, pulling back the blue curtain.

Just at that moment Izzy and Jazz spin round the corner in wheelchairs, pushing themselves along frantically. They giggle hysterically, trying to push the other into hospital beds and staff, desperate to win the race to some imaginary finish line.

The doctor looks at me accusingly. I grimace apologetically. It's not my fault my friends are drunk and insane.

‘Hey Pops,’ Izzy says, as she parks up, out of breath. ‘How’s the patient?’ she directs to the doctor.

‘She’ll need stitches. You know you really shouldn’t be playing with those,’ she snaps.

Izzy immediately looks regretful and shuffles back and forth on her feet.

‘Sorry.’

Jazz gets off her wheelchair, still two beds away from us, and stumbles over, seeming to be having problems putting one foot in front of the other. Her face is pale and her forehead shiny.

‘You OK Jazz?’ I ask, praying she won't cause a scene.

‘Of c-c-course,’ she slurs. She opens her mouth into a wide smile and then projectile vomits all over the floor. She pulls her head up, wipes the remains of her vomit with the back of her arm. ‘Maybe I’m b-b-bit ill.’ She looks at me with big scared eyes and then passes out.

* * *





When we eventually arrive home, it's 5am and the birds are out to greet us. We almost fall into the hallway, all exhausted from the drama of tonight. That and having to fight a transvestite for our cab. Ryan comes running to the door as soon as it opens.

‘Poppy, how are you?’ he asks, helping me in as if I’m a cripple.

‘I’m fine,’ I snap, my eyes so heavy I can barely keep them open.

I wish he’d stop fussing and leave me alone. I wonder if he’s just stopped having sex with Grace.

‘I’m gonna crash in Izzy’s room,’ Jazz says, sipping her bottled water. ‘Will you be OK on your own?’

‘Yes! For fuck sakes, I’ve had stitches, I’m not disabled!’

‘Alright moody,’ Ryan says, smiling at Izzy and Jazz.

‘Night, love you,’ Jazz and Izzy sing in sleepy voices, kissing me on the cheek. Jazz still smells of vomit. I turn and head towards my room without bothering to say goodbye to Ryan.

‘Can I see it?’ Ryan asks, following me into my room.

I flick on a lamp and sigh heavily. I turn my head so that he can have a good look, while still maintaining a healthy distance. I don't want him touching it or anything.

‘Do you trust me?’ he asks, coming closer and hovering his hand over the wound.

Do I? Do I trust him? I honestly don't know.

He places his hands gently on either side of my face and carefully traces the line of the stitches, making me tingle.

‘Shit. That's gonna be a fucker of a scar.’

‘Yeah, well you can thank your girlfriend,’ I snap, my voice full of disdain, as I pull away from him.

‘Huh?’ he asks bewildered.

‘Grace. She’s the one who tripped me.’

‘No, she wouldn’t do that.’ He shakes his head. ‘And she's not my girlfriend.’

‘Well, that's not what she told me. Was going to jump your bones tonight. Thought I’d leave you to it. Was it fun?’ I ask sarcastically, my face like thunder.

‘You know what,’ he sighs heavily. ‘I was going to give you your present, but if you’re gonna talk crap I’ll just leave.’

Present?

‘No! I mean...you got me a present?’ I ask, embarrassed by how spoilt I sound.

‘Yep.’

He walks towards my wardrobe. He reaches behind it and pulls out a large shape wrapped in brown paper. He places it down in front of me and I look up to him confused.

‘Well, open it then,’ he smiles encouragingly.

I tear at the paper, my hands tired but excited. I stand back to see that it's a large black photo frame. I turn it round to face me and inside it’s an old Singing in the Rain poster. I’m stunned. He remembered it's my favourite film. He bothered getting a poster and putting it in a frame.

‘You like it then?’ he asks, his face suddenly serious.

‘I...I love it,’ is all I can mumble out.

‘Good,’ he says, seeming chuffed. He leans closer into my face, his features serious again. ‘And remember...don't believe all the crap that comes out of Grace’s mouth.’

He stares at me for a second, his eyes so intense that I’m sure he’s going to lean in and kiss me. Instead he turns and leaves the room.

Forget what Grace said. Game on bitch.





Chapter 19




I’m woken up by a strange sound in the hallway. Like someone is bouncing off the walls, the door frames shaking. Oh my God. What if it's an earthquake? I mean, you hear about these things happening all of the time. You think you live in a quiet country with no natural disasters and then – BAM! You’re in the middle of one. A tsunami. How far away are we from the Thames?

‘Come here! Come here!’ I hear Ryan shouting.

Is he calling me? I jump out of bed and throw on Jazz’s dressing gown and slippers. I don't want to be found amongst the rubble in just my tatty pyjamas. I put them on, careful not to catch my face against any of the fabric. The wound is already stinging badly enough. I open the door and peer out.

A furry brown creature turns and locks their brown eyes with mine. Terror creeps into my stomach. This is far worse than an earthquake. A dog. And I’ve made eye contact with it. They say never to look them in the eye otherwise they’ll attack. It’s mouth opens exposing sharp white teeth, slobber falling onto the carpet.

It widens its paws on the floor and leans back slightly before sprinting full speed towards me. It happens so quickly I don't have time to think. I dive instinctively out of the way just in time for it to miss me and go bounding into my room. It quickly turns back at me, jumping up so high it's almost touching my face. It's going to bite my face!

‘Aaah! Get it off me, get it off me!’ I shout running through the hallway, desperate for an escape.

I jump on the kitchen table, losing a slipper in the process. The vicious dog continues to jump, trying to reach the top of it. Where the hell did this dog come from?

‘Oh my God,’ Ryan says, walking in almost doubled over laughing. ‘That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘Is it your dog?’ I ask, my heart still beating too fast in my chest. It’s still jumping.

‘She’s my Grandma’s. She’s got friends over all day today so I said I’d have her.’ He’s still trying to compose himself.

‘Her? I thought all dogs were boys?’ I ask looking for a dog penis.

His eyes crease and he doubles over again into loud hysterics.

‘Stop, you’re killing me,’ he says, breathless, his face slightly red.

‘Oh shut up will you,’ I snap, still trying to balance on the rickety table. Please God, don't let it collapse from under me. I feel dizzy enough as it is.

‘Sorry,’ he says, looking at me confused. ‘Are you seriously still on that table?’

I glare in response.

‘Oh, come on,’ he scoffs. ‘You can't really be scared of this little dog can you?’

I look down at the cream and brown haired creature and I know that a normal person would probably think it was cute. Yet all I can seem to notice is its big teeth and extremely large paws. That and how it can seem to jump six foot. It's going to get me any minute now, I can feel it. I’m going to die. It's going to bite me on my neck and I’ll bleed out in a second.

‘Yes, OK!’ I shout abruptly. ‘I happen to have a serious phobia of dogs. Can't you just tell her to leave me a-alone?’ I stammer, sweat dripping from my forehead.

‘Sorry? You want me to reason with an excitable dog, to leave you alone?’ he asks, enunciating every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped.

‘Yes. Is that really too much to ask?’

‘God, you’re hard work,’ he sighs. He scoops her up in one arm. ‘Come here and I’ll hold her.’

Next to him she does look kind of small and pathetic, but that doesn’t stop my body shaking.

‘You’re sure you’ve got her?’ I ask my mouth dry with anxiety.

‘Yes.’ He sighs, seeming frustrated.

I tentatively put one foot down onto the floor, but flinch when I see her try to wriggle from his arms.

‘Come on, I’ve got her,’ he says, his voice suppressing laughter.

I take a deep breath and then quickly jump off before I can talk myself out of it. I open my eyes to see that I’ve made it. Both feet are on the floor and I’m still alive. I take another deep breath and slowly walk over to the sofa to sit down, Ryan sitting down next to me. I sit as far away from him as I can, all too aware of the dog’s teeth and it’s massive blood red gums.

‘Poppy, this is Toffee.’ He extends his arms out to me so that she’s nearly in my face.

‘Please,’ I beg, my voice breaking as I put up a shaking hand in defence. ‘This isn’t funny. Dogs creep me out. She’s gonna claw me, I know it.’

‘Don't be stupid,’ he says, muffling a snicker. ‘Let me just put her down next to you.’

He places her slowly down onto the sofa and I clench my body, ready to bolt out the door if she makes any sudden movements. Yet to my surprise she manages to sit calmly, her big brown eyes staring at me as if I’m the freak. I try to avoid looking at her straight on, sure it’ll aggravate her. I suppose she is kind of cute. Her ears are far too big for her head and they flop over her eyes, almost like a pretty girl with unruly hair. Maybe there is an exception to the rule.