The Debt & the Doormat(51)

‘There you are,’ Ryan smiles looking back and forth between me and her. ‘She’s fine.’

He looks at me, unleashing the full devastating power of his eyes, as if trying to hypnotise me into calming down. It only seems to make my heart beat faster.

The sound of someone walking down the stairs startles me away from his beautiful face as the dog jumps off the sofa, circling in a mad frenzy.

‘Aaah!’ I scream. ‘I’m going to die!’ I wail.

I jump onto the back of the sofa, a sudden urge to get as high as possible, while the dog runs from the room. I crouch down, taking deep breaths, trying to bring myself back from the hysterical panic.

‘Calm down,’ Ryan says soothingly, but his eyes are mocking.

‘Hey Toffee baby,’ I hear Izzy say from the hallway.

Izzy walks in with Jazz and Grace, cradling Toffee in her arms like a baby.

‘Hey Pops. Are you OK?’ Izzy asks, widening her eyes in suspicion.

‘She’s scared of dogs,’ Ryan explains, rolling his eyes, a tight smile on his lips.

‘You’re joking?’ Izzy asks, a wide smile creeping up on her face. ‘How can you be scared of little Toffee?’

Toffee licks her face in response. Ugh - gross.

‘Hello? Don't you remember one of my stories from last night about her being bitten?’ Jazz reminds her, smiling at me sympathetically. Jazz had decided, once gaining consciousness, to tell loads of stories about the bad luck I’d suffered on my many birthdays.

‘Oh yeah,’ Izzy says apologetically.

‘Why am I not surprised?’ Ryan says, shaking his head as if I’m a major liability.

‘Yes. You’re very accident prone aren’t you,’ Grace smirks. ‘How is your head?’

What a two faced bitch. Acting all nice in front of Ryan. She makes me physically sick. Just looking at her face makes me want to take up boxing.

‘It's...OK,’ I shrug. I don't want her to know how uncomfortable my face feels.

Ryan’s phone rings and he leaves the room to take it. The minute he’s gone I decide to confront her.

‘Look Grace, I know it was you that tripped me. What the fuck is your problem?’

‘What?’ she asks, fake innocence all over her face. ‘I don't know what you’re talking about.’ She smiles discreetly, as if to let me know she realises exactly what I’m talking about.

‘Poppy!’ Jazz shouts, completely shocked.

‘No Jazz, she fucking tripped me and I know it. I’m not scared of you Grace.’

Maybe I am a little, but I’m not gonna let this bitch know that.

‘I honestly don't know what you’re talking about,’ Grace says, her bottom lip trembling.

Wow – this bitch is good. If I didn’t know better I’d believe her.

‘Poppy, you can't just assume it was Grace,’ Izzy protests. ‘Look how upset she is’. She walks over to Grace, putting her arm around her shoulder.

Ryan walks back in the room and looks confused by the sudden tense atmosphere. He looks from face to face.

‘What's going on?’ he asks eventually.

Grace runs over to him, pushing her face into his chest.

‘Poppy accused me of tripping her.’

Ryan looks at her and then back to me, shaking his head in disbelief.

‘No, you must be wrong.’ He looks at me for reassurance. ‘She’s wrong, right Poppy?’

Izzy and Jazz look away, the tense atmosphere growing by the second. Oh God, well now I look like an awful witch. I’m turning red.

‘Um...no. Actually I did accuse her...but only because I know she did it.’ I’d attempted to make my voice sound strong and confident, but I’ve ended up sounding like a squeaky mouse.

‘Poppy, you can't just go around accusing people!’ he shouts, his voice making my skin retract in fear.

Why do I suddenly feel like I’m being told off by the headmaster? It's the same humiliating feeling, the feeling that I’ve been caught doing something wrong. I’ve done nothing wrong. Grace smiles at me from Ryan’s chest, showing off her victory. What a sly, sly bitch.

I’ve got to have a really good come back for this. A really good answer, an explanation, showing Grace to be the true back stabbing bitch she is.

‘Whatever,’ is the best I can come up with. Pathetic.

‘I think you should apologise to her,’ he suggests.

I let out a short laugh.

‘You think I’m going to apologise to her. I don't think so.’

Grace lets out a pathetic little cry.

‘Don't worry Gracie,’ Ryan says, squeezing her tighter. ‘I know Poppy doesn’t mean it.’

‘Don't speak on behalf of me! I do mean it, she’s a sly bitch!’ I shout, my voice erupting in an angry growl.

‘Poppy that's enough!’ he shouts, silencing me.

How dare he speak to me like this? How dare he take her side over mine? I feel more betrayal than I know I should, but I can’t help it. I thought he’d be on my side. How can he not see through her? Oh, I remember, because her massive tits are in the way.

Silence fills the room and I look around to see that Izzy and Jazz have begun backing out of the room.

‘Well, I think it's clear that we’re not going to make up today. Maybe just keep out of each other’s way for now?’ Ryan suggests.

I fold my arms across my chest as I begin a staring contest with Grace.

‘Anyway,’ Ryan says, his voice softer now, ‘I’m really sorry guys, but I need to go and sort something out. Would you be able to keep an eye on Toffee for a little while?’ He looks at Izzy and Jazz, with an expression that also says ‘and try to keep these two from killing each other’.

‘Yeah of course,’ Izzy says, putting Toffee down on the floor.

‘Poppy, you’re OK with that?’ he asks smirking.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I growl.

* * *





Two hours later I’m in the park with Izzy and Toffee. Grace and Jazz wisely ran for the hills soon after Ryan left. Yet Izzy somehow managed to talk me into yet another walk, giving me a lecture on how it will not only calm Toffee, but how it's good for health, cellulite, and mood. So here I am, walking through a field full of cow shit with a mental little dog, who I’m sure is waiting for me to relax before going for my jugular.

‘How’s your face?’ Izzy asks warmly.

‘It stings, but I’ll live I suppose.’

Her phone starts to ring with the latest pop tune and her face lights up.

‘Hey Maria! Long time. I know, it's been ages!’ She mouths ‘sorry’ to me. She places her hand over the receiver. ‘Pops, I’m just gonna take this, it's a bit private.’ She thrusts the lead into my hand and jogs off.

I look down at the lead to the dog attached to it. She’s left me with Toffee. I’m alone with the dog. OK, don't panic. Just breathe. Toffee looks back at me and I flinch. But then it's like she’s actually smiling to reassure me. What am I actually worried about? I mean, she’s a cute little dog. She’s almost like a really hairy toddler. I shouldn’t be intimidated by her. I can do this. How hard can it be? I breathe in the fresh air and start to relax, looking up at the sky.

A dirty dark cloud creeps over my head, bringing with it a chill in the air. Toffee looks back and smiles again, but this time my stomach doesn’t settle. I don't have a coat with me. Please don't rain, please don't rain. I slow down my pace, scared of losing Izzy. The sky darkens completely, as if it's ten o’clock at night. Images of every horror film flash through my head.

Boom!

I jump from the loud sound of distant thunder. Rain begins pouring, slowly at first, but big fat drops soon start coming down heavily. Within seconds I’m soaked straight through my clothes. Toffee runs to my side, seeming scared. She makes a weird whimpering noise, kind of like she’s crying.

‘Don't worry Toffee. It’s only a bit of rain. Come here.’ I try to muster up the courage to pick her up and reassure her. I don’t even know how I’d go about doing it. Would I go under her shoulders or her stomach? Maybe I can just pat her on her head instead?

Crackle!

Close thunder breaks through the sky and I jump so hard I almost swallow my tongue. Toffee barks so loudly my eardrums wince in disbelief. She bolts. I try to hold onto the lead but she's so strong that I feel the fabric whip my skin with a friction burn. I look down in disbelief at my empty hands. Toffee is running through the open field as fast as a whippet.

‘Toffee! Come back,’ I yell running after her.

But it's no use. She’s so fast and it seems she’s been well and truly spooked. I stop running for a second, watching her run to a distant field and crawl under a fence into what looks like someone’s garden.

The sky around me has become crowded with dirty black clouds, thick persistent rain drops falling from them. The mix of the darkness and rain means it's a struggle for me to see in front of me, let alone into the next field.

I run as fast as my legs can take me towards the field, the grass gets muddier each time I make contact with it. I slip over a few times, but the panic tightening my throat is spurring me on. I cannot lose this dog. They’ll all say I did it deliberately because I don't like dogs. They’ll probably start a hate campaign against me in the local paper and people will spit on me in the street.