Love, and Other Things to Live For. Louise Leverett

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Love, and Other Things to Live For - Louise Leverett страница 7

Love, and Other Things to Live For - Louise Leverett

Скачать книгу

and your career goes down the pan, or your career booms while your love life’s shot to shit. Or in my case right now, both, crumbling in my hands at the exact same moment. I smiled at the irony.

      And wasn’t it funny that the moment when I knew I had to end it was the exact moment I’d never wanted to stay more.

      As I poured a glass of water and pulled myself up to sit on the kitchen worktop – an annoying trait which Charlie didn’t mind but Amber always hated – I could see one good thing about being on my own: I could finally do as I pleased. Prove to myself that I could. Prove to my parents that they were wrong. The continual back and forth motion with Charlie – the euphoric highs and desperate lows – were now over. It was time to create space for myself and for the new, to give myself the opportunity to get it all wrong. Fuck things up to the nth degree. Barefooted and barefaced amongst the boxes, I was willing to risk all that was certain in my life for the very possibility of wanting something more.

      The restaurant was heaving. I’d strangely missed the noise, the crowded bar, the way you had to navigate through the masses just to meet your friends, to breathe. As soon as I caught sight of them I felt relieved.

      ‘Sit yourself down, Jessica Rabbit,’ Sean said with a warm smile. ‘I mean, I knew it wouldn’t last long but three months? Jesus, Jess, I’ve got cheese in my fridge that I’ve had longer.’

      ‘Yes,’ I said, nodding dutifully. ‘Get it all off your chest now, will you? And we were actually together for nine months,’ I declared proudly as I walked around the oblong table to kiss Amber. ‘And what do you mean you didn’t think it would last long?’

      Amber pulled me in and looked me straight in the eye.

      ‘You did the right thing, bubs,’ she said boldly.

      I knew she was right but the pain in my stomach was still fighting the concept – it made a deep, heavy lurch as I sat down at the table, causing me to wince.

      ‘Seriously, though, are you okay?’ Sean quizzed.

      ‘I need to find a job. And quick,’ I replied.

      ‘Our rent’s due on Thursday,’ Amber remarked, before hesitating. Her voice shrinking to a gradual fade as she saw my expression.

      ‘She only moved out three months ago, I think she can remember when your rent’s due,’ Sean said, rolling his eyes.

      I reached out to sip my water, my hand paused on the glass, as a thought I had buried caught up with me.

      ‘Is it really as bad as it looks?’ Amber said, placing her hand on my wrist.

      ‘Well, let me fill you in, shall I?’ I pushed the water aside and exchanged it for wine. ‘I’ve left my boyfriend’s home…’

      ‘Ex-boyfriend,’ Sean muttered.

      ‘Ex-boyfriend,’ I quipped. ‘Half my possessions are on my bedroom floor while the other half are under house arrest in a transit on the other side of Westminster that has the word “penis” written on the side in dirt. So in answer to your question, things have definitely been better.’

      ‘He’s such a dick,’ Sean spat.

      ‘He’s not, though,’ I said, sipping my wine again. ‘Things just didn’t work out.’

      I reached for the bread basket, realising I hadn’t eaten at all that day.

      As I buttered a piece of fluffy white baguette I felt a hand on the back of my chair.

      ‘Jess – fancy seeing you here, how is everything? How’s Charlie?’

      A bomb of silence dropped on the table.

      It was Sasha, the PR hound who lived two floors beneath him. She obviously didn’t have anything better to do than keep track of the comings and goings of the building.

      ‘Oh, I’m fine, he’s fine, I think. Well, I don’t know actually because we’re not together anymore – we split up about a week ago.’

      ‘Oh, I see,’ she said, giving me the same vacant look that I’d seen several times over the past seven days. ‘Well, sometimes these things just don’t work out. He’s pretty handsome, though. That’s got to be tough.’

      I nodded in agreement, to both parts, with a small smile that indicated that it was her cue to leave. I wanted to vomit as the overpowering smell of her perfume lingered in the air. I remembered the sweet, distinct floral smell from the building’s lift.

      ‘She’s definitely going to drop by his place tonight as a “shoulder to cry on”,’ Sean said, watching her leave. ‘She couldn’t get out of here quick enough! I could actually see her smirking – who does that?’

      ‘Well, good luck to her,’ I said, mustering a fake smile. ‘Maybe she can handle him better than I could.’

      ‘Maybe she’s got that condition,’ Amber said drily. ‘I saw a documentary about it: when somebody delivers some bad news, they can’t help smiling.’

      ‘Or maybe she’s just a cow,’ I said, bluntly.

      ‘So, just to clarify,’ Sean said, ‘are we allowed to say his name?’

      ‘Yeah, why not?’ I replied.

      ‘Because she just did and you look like you’d been shot.’

      ‘I’m okay, really!’ I protested. ‘It’s all for the best. Please can we just talk about something else?’

      ‘I won’t even mention his name,’ Sean said, running his forefinger across his lips.

      ‘And don’t remind me how attractive he is either,’ I said, searching for the emergency cigarette I’d borrowed from the doorman on the way in. ‘All anyone’s been saying to me is how attractive he was. It’s pathetic,’ I muttered.

      ‘He was,’ Sean said as Amber shot him a look of outrage. ‘I’m sorry. But he absolutely was.’

      After we’d eaten, I could still feel the remnants of the food stinging the roof of my mouth.

      ‘So what else have I missed?’ I said, looking at Sean to change the conversation.

      ‘Amber’s in love. A bit,’ he said coyly.

      ‘Oh please,’ she said, as cool as ever. ‘Today’s idea of love is closing your Tinder account.’

      ‘And have you?’ Sean said, raising an eyebrow.

      ‘Course not,’ she replied. ‘But I definitely go on a lot less.’

      I stared at her until she gave me more answers.

      ‘His name is Patrick,’ she said.

      ‘Patrick,’ Sean repeated drily. ‘He’s definitely over fifty.’

      I laughed.

      ‘He is, yes!’ She downed the remainder of her martini defensively and tried

Скачать книгу