The Debt & the Doormat(70)

‘Go to the changing rooms and strip naked. I’ll be over in a minute.’

‘Oh. OK,’ he says, seeming unsure, shuffling from one foot to another.

‘Don't worry Neville. I’m not going to steal your clothes. I’ll be there in a minute.’

By the time I get to the changing rooms I’ve got two baskets full of clothes. I knock gently on the door and he peers around, his face bright red with embarrassment.

‘Can I come in?’

‘Really?’ he asks, going redder.

‘I promise I won't look. It’ll just be easier.’

‘Oh...OK.’

He pushes the door back to reveal a pale white body in grey stripy boxer shorts. Who’d have known it, but Neville actually has quite a nice body. Yes, it's pale but it's not weird and skinny. And from the bulge in the boxers I’d say I wasn’t lying too much about how he’s hung.

‘So did anyone ask you about us yesterday?’ I ask as I throw clothes on over his head.

‘Only everyone!’ he chuckles, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘But I kept saying a gentleman never tells, like you said.’

‘Brilliant. And did anything happen?’

‘Yes! All the girls were swarming around me asking questions and...Well, I think a few of them might have even been flirting with me.’

‘Really? See!’

‘Poppy, these clothes are great,’ he says, smiling at himself in the mirror. ‘I think I’m going to take all of them.’

I’ve managed to pull together a great geek-chic look for him. Anything else would have been going against what he is. Instead his new wardrobe consists of skinny jeans, layered cardigans, t-shirts, smart blazers, and fitted shirts. I’ve even included a few bow ties, but instructed him as to what he can wear them with. He looks amazing.

Next I drag him to the opticians where I force him to buy new black oversized frames, and then to the barbers. The barber cuts his curly light brown hair tighter to his head and shows him how to apply wax to it to keep it looking fresh.

I stand back to survey him and can't believe the transformation. He’s like a shiny new penny. If I didn’t know him and saw him on the street I’d do a double take. He looks gorgeous.

‘Poppy, I really don't know how to thank you. I love it.’

‘You’re welcome,’ I say, sneaking another look at him. I’m so proud.

‘I can't wait to show it off back at work.’

‘I know! Me too! Now, if anyone at work asks you out all you can say is “Maybe. If you play your cards right”. You need to treat them mean to keep them keen.’

‘That really works?’ he asks, pushing his new glasses up his nose.

‘Definitely.’

‘Great. Thanks so much,’ he beams, hugging me tightly before bustling up towards our office; a new spring in his step.

* * *





When I get in that night I’m tired. The weather’s remained hot and clammy, and all I want to do is jump in the shower and then get an early night. My phone rings, flashing up ‘Jazz’.

‘Hey hun.’

‘Oh my God babe, have you seen the paper? Ryan’s on the front page?’ she shouts excitedly.

‘Yeah I know. It's all my fault,’ I say sighing.

‘Why? It's a good thing isn’t it?’

‘Not really,’ I say quietly.

‘Oh babe, what have you done?’

‘It's...a bit of a long story.’ I hope she won't have time to listen to me.

‘Great. I’m coming to pick you up now. We’re going to Emily’s birthday.’

‘Emily?’

‘Yeah, you know – from Uni. She’s hired a bar in Harrow. It should be a laugh.’

‘Oh...I don't know...I’m really knackered.’

‘Too late, I’m already in a cab. Be at yours in ten.’ She hangs up immediately before I can protest.

* * *





‘So Poppy, have you managed to bag yourself a fella yet?’ Chris asks me, his onion breath on the back of my neck.

‘Not yet,’ I smile politely. ‘I’ve just got to find Jazz to sort out a taxi. Excuse me.’

Well this night’s been a disaster. Damn Jazz. Forcing me here tonight and then leaving me to endure everyone from Uni questioning me about my life. It's more like a reunion   than a birthday party. And what have I got to say about myself? Nothing. Nothing is going well in my life. Everyone I speak to is either engaged, or married, or with kids. Hell, even the single people have amazing careers, or they’ve travelled the world. How do you make staying in watching telly and drinking tea sound fun?

I search around the bar for her, but all I find is more excitable people, trying to engage me in conversation. Where is she? Typical. She always goes off to places without telling me.

‘Has anyone seen Jazz?’ I ask random people as they pass me.

‘Hey Poppy,’ Tom, another guy I vaguely remember from Uni says. ‘She’s gone on to the after party.’

‘You’re joking! Do you know where it is?’ I ask, hating being left this vulnerable. I swear to God, when I find her I’m gonna ring her neck.

‘We’re just going there now. Come with us.’ He guides me outside and points towards a taxi.

I glance in the taxi and see a few girls in there. He holds the door open for me.

‘OK thanks.’

As I step into the taxi the women get out of the other side and I’m left with just Tom and his friend with buck teeth that I haven’t met before. A sinking feeling in my stomach tells me this doesn’t feel right. I ring Jazz.

‘Hey, this is Jazz...’

Straight to voicemail for the fiftieth time tonight.

‘Hey Jazz, it's me. I’ve gone on to the after party with Tom. See you soon.’

‘So, do you have a boyfriend these days then?’ Tom enquires, grinning widely.

‘No, unfortunately not,’ I smile. ‘What about you?’

‘No-one special,’ he winks.

I look away quickly, hoping I haven’t led him on. I should have just told him I was a lesbian or training to be a nun.

‘Here we are,’ Tom says to the taxi driver a few minutes later.

We pull up outside a white semi-detached house in a residential street.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ I ask as I get out, aware that there's no noise or lights on.

‘Yeah course I am,’ he says, putting his hand on my waist and ushering me in.

A sickening feeling creeps into the pit of my stomach as I reluctantly get pushed into the house. The stench of stale beer and sweat welcoming me once inside makes me gag. By the time I’ve got into the sitting room I realise there’s no party here tonight. It's only us three.

‘W...where’s the others?’ I ask, trying to remain calm.

‘What others?’ he asks locking the front door with a key and putting it in his pocket.

‘You know...the others. For the party,’ I smile, kicking myself for being so stupid.

‘They’re probably on their way.’

I look over to his friend, sat on the sofa lining up some coke and feel myself start to sweat. This is a disaster. I’m going to get raped.

‘I’m just gonna call Jazz,’ I say, my voice breaking as I get out my phone.

‘Hey, this is Jazz...’

Again with the voicemail! What the fuck!? OK, don't panic. I’m sure Izzy will be available. Izzy goes straight to voicemail too. I try Jazz one more time in desperation.

‘Just me again! Please call me as soon as you get this, OK?’

The trick is not to panic. It's going to be fine. You’ve just gone back to a friend’s house. You knew Tom in Uni. Well, sort of. Enough to trust him, right? Enough to be sure he wouldn’t force you to do something you don't want to do.

‘Sit down darling,’ Tom says, pushing me towards the sofa. I fall back on it and quickly sit up straight, crossing my legs tightly together. ‘You want a line?’

‘No, I’m...I’m fine thanks,’ I say, my voice barely audible.

‘Really? Might loosen you up a bit.’ He smirks before snorting one himself.

Loosen me up for what? Oh God. They’re going to attack me. I can just feel it. My hands start shaking and my upper lip starts sweating. I sit on my hands to stop them from noticing

He moves closer to me on the sofa as he rubs some remaining coke into his gums, his eyes suddenly crazed. Unease creeps over me. His shoulders are pretty massive and I suddenly remember he used to play rugby at Uni. He leans closer again, his huge physical presence threatening. Would I be able to fight him off? Would he let me?

‘This is a lovely road. What's the name of it?’ I ask, standing up and carefully edging closer to the door.

‘Don't worry about that sweetheart. Come and sit on my knee.’

‘Actually I think I should go.’ I walk slowly towards the door, still facing him.

With one fast move he blocks me.

‘Where you going?’ he asks, his eyes wide, staring at my breasts.

‘I...I told you. I’ve got to get home,’ I say, a tear escaping from my eye despite trying to remain strong.

‘You can stay here tonight,’ he says, a lewd whisper.

‘Just tell me what area this is and unlock the door,’ I say, trying to sound strong and determined, but it instead coming out as a weak pathetic whisper.

‘Come on sweetheart. Don't be shy.’ He moves closer and wraps his arm round my waist.