If You're Not The One. Jemma Forte

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СКАЧАТЬ jealous of him. Tim never looked this happy and satisfied after a night in with her, that was for sure.

      ‘Come downstairs and have a drink with me and Karen?’ she said, trying not to sound petulant but not sure if she was succeeding due to being so drunk. Ugh, now that she wasn’t breathing in lungfuls of sea air, the alcohol was making its effect well and truly known.

      ‘Um…’

      Jennifer got up, rolling her eyes heavenward, bracing herself for the inevitable no.

      ‘…yes, why not, my little drunkard? I’d love to. And then you can tell me all about your evening.’

      Jennifer smiled. ‘I’ll re-enact it if you like.’

      ‘Even better,’ said Tim pulling a face. ‘Come on Sean, we should have a break.’

      ‘Cool,’ muttered Sean, not moving.

      Tim rubbed his face with both hands, then came over to where Jennifer was and regarded her with interest as she bent down to retrieve her clumpy shoes.

      ‘I can see right up your skirt,’ he said, in a way that gave Jennifer an immediate thrill.

      He lightly stroked her belly, in a way that was a mixture of quite nice yet also irritating.

      ‘You are wrecked aren’t you,’ he stated, suddenly noticing how much she was frowning. Her brows were knitted together partly due to how much concentration was required simply to stand up straight.

      ‘I’m fine,’ she said defensively.

      ‘Good,’ he said, running his hands up her back.

      It was the affection she’d been craving for days, only right this second being touched was making her feel vaguely nauseous. She needed to eat. She needed toast.

      ‘Can I have some of your bread?’ she said, pulling away and gesturing to his fridge. She lumbered over to it before he’d had the chance to answer.

      ‘But of course,’ said Tim. ‘Eat an entire loaf if you like, my sweet. And if reUNIon takes off like I think it’s going to, I shall buy you your very own bakers.’

      Jennifer wasn’t really listening. She was too intent on getting at the sliced white which she had confidence would restore her sugar levels and hopefully make her feel less pissed. She had planned on toasting it but in the end was so desperate for some starchy carbohydrate, she just ripped a slice in two and shoved one of the halves into her mouth plain.

      As she chewed, it stuck to the roof of her mouth.

      ‘Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not completely classy,’ joked Tim. ‘Third class that is.’

      ‘Come on, let’s go and have a drink then,’ she said, mouth full.

      ‘Yes,’ said Tim. ‘Because you look like you definitely need one.’

      Jennifer tried hard to think of a witty riposte but it was too much effort so she gave up and staggered towards the door instead.

      Tim followed her but seemingly Sean couldn’t be torn away from his computer for neither love, money nor vodka.

      In the lounge Karen was reclining on the main sofa which was so threadbare and ancient it had pretty much collapsed in on itself a long time ago. Lying on it felt a lot like you were lying on the floor. She was doing some impressive recreational multi-tasking by building a spliff, keeping one eye on the telly and listening to music. ‘Don’t Speak’ by No Doubt was blasting.

      ‘Evening, Karen,’ said Tim, in a tone that suggested he was up for a bit of a wind-up session.

      Jennifer sighed inwardly as she realised she’d now be in charge of keeping the peace.

      ‘Right…booze,’ she said. ‘Shall I make us all a vodka?’

      ‘Yeah,’ said Karen. ‘Where’s the bag, we didn’t leave it did we?’

      ‘No, it’s here by your feet,’ said Jennifer, extracting the plastic bag which had a half bottle of vodka and some orange juice in it from where it was wedged down the back of the sofa.

      Of course it went without saying that there were no clean glasses or mugs to be found in the kitchen so she went downstairs to her room to fetch some paper cups which she’d purchased only the other week precisely for times like this.

      Due to being so utterly rat-arsed, the effort of now having charged downstairs at high speed left her swaying in the middle of the room for a few seconds while trying to remember what she’d come down for. Her mind had gone completely blank and she could hardly keep her eyes open. Finally it came back to her. Cups. Paper cups. Now she felt smug. Well done her. She was conscious of getting back to the lounge quickly though, so as soon as she’d retrieved them she raced back, leaving her door wide open in her haste. It wouldn’t do to leave Tim and Karen alone for too long. They’d only end up sniping at each other.

      It was too late though. As she approached the lounge her heart sank.

      ‘But wanting to know what people “do” is just blatant snobbery isn’t it?’ Karen was arguing, albeit from a lying down position which put Tim, who was sitting upright, at an immediate advantage.

      ‘Oh fuck off Karen, you should hear yourself. What’s snobby about being curious? About being interested?’

      ‘Because you’re suggesting that what we “do” defines us, like some middle-aged fart at a drinks party saying “And what do you do?” she said, in a voice like Maggie Thatcher.

      ‘Here are your drinks,’ said Jennifer brusquely, splashing liquid into the paper cups until they were pretty much two parts vodka one part juice.

      Tim took his and slugged it back. As he did he winced. ‘Oof that’s strong?’

      ‘Poof,’ said Karen unnecessarily, downing hers in one and instantly looking like she deeply regretted it.

      ‘Anyhow,’ said Tim, ‘the point is, Karen, that if you think reUNIon is such a shit idea you won’t go on it, that is entirely your prerogative. And yet I’d bet good money that in five years’ time, if you got an email telling you that Ed Fisher wanted to find out what you were up to, and not only that, that he’d predicted what he thought you were up to, you’d be intrigued. Don’t try and tell me you wouldn’t have a look at that point.’

      This was a bit below the belt. Ed Fisher had been, up until five weeks ago, Karen’s boyfriend. Then he’d dumped her, cruelly, by text, telling her it was because he didn’t really fancy her and saw her more as a friend. She’d cried pretty much for a week.

      ‘If that arsehole got in touch with me in five years’ time I’d be fucking livid,’ she yelled.

      Jennifer slugged back her drink nervously. ‘You two,’ she interjected. ‘Can we talk about something else for once?’

      ‘Like what?’ said Tim sarcastically. ‘What do you want to enlighten us with, my angel?’

      Jennifer gulped and as she did so she became aware of a horrid metallic taste in her mouth. This was swiftly СКАЧАТЬ