Blokebusters Page 32

  He wiped his tears on his sleeve.

  “If you accept that job then you’ve left me behind. It’s as simple as that. He won’t rest until he’s got you.” He blew his nose hard and his eyes watered.

  “Remember when I was studying for my finals? I had to concentrate on my degree and I couldn’t always go out and about with you. You always used to say that you didn’t mind, that spending a little time with the right person was preferable to too much time with the wrong one.”

  “And I meant it, only… ” he broke away and stared into the distance, his eyes unfocused, “… you had to study, you don’t have to stay involved with Blokebusters. You don’t need to work at all. This time it’s a rejection of me – it wasn’t like that when you had exams to study for, I always knew that you’d rather be with me. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “I do want to be with you. But that doesn’t mean spending twenty-four hours of every day together. I need a life, a purpose – a reason to get up in the morning.”

  Every atom of Matt’s being wanted to say that children would be a wonderful reason to get up in the morning. Every atom except his voice box and mouth. He got up and went to bed.

  Georgia washed the tea things up. The cold air made her shiver and w hilst closing the window she accidentally knocked over one of the pots on the windowsill. She guiltily scooped all the earth back into the pot and tried to flatten it as best she could.

  She’d never expected success to be so hard. In her mind, the more money she and Matt had, the happier they’d be. It was difficult to accept it may be the other way round. She folded the tea towel over the oven door handle and switched the lights off. Matt pretended to be asleep when he heard her come into the bedroom. He wished they had a spare bed for him to sleep in. He didn’t want to feel or smell Georgia next to him; he wanted to get used to being alone. The duvet lifted and the mattress dipped as she got in.

  “I know you’re not asleep. I also know you’re not going to admit that you’re not asleep. But I know you can hear me. I love you Matt. I’d back you doing anything that made you happy – however crazy I thought it was. I don’t understand why you won’t do the same for me. I thought you loved me enough to trust me but you don’t. You’re pushing me away and I hate it. You can only push someone so much before they get the message.”

  Matt lay on his side, every word she spoke burning into his brain. He knew she wasn’t entirely blameless; she should know him well enough by now to handle his insecurities with sensitivity. He recognised his behaviour pattern. He was doing to her what his parents did to him; building barriers, creating distance. It was his inherent defence mechanism: if you can’t cope with something cut it off. He’d hoped Georgia’s love had cured him of it but obviously not. She couldn’t put it any plainer. She loved him, she wanted him but she wouldn’t wait around forever for him come to his senses. He felt like he was encased in a shell; if only he could break out of it he’d be able to pour all his feelings out to her. But the shell was thick and all he could do was knock politely on it, hoping a passer-by would help him out.

  Georgia lay on her side and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She stared at her wedding ring and thought about when Matt put it on her finger. He’d kissed her straight afterwards, before the registrar had granted him permission, and whispered in her ear, “We’re a team now – you and me. Us against the world.” The moment was interrupted when Billy fainted and fell face first into Nancy’s lap. She’d accused him of sniffing her crotch. She laughed softly at the memory and Matt raised his eyebrows. He was desperate to ask what was so funny but couldn’t, as he was meant to be asleep.

  *

  Friday was Matt and Georgia’s fifth wedding anniversary. Both were aware of it looming on the horizon but keen to let the other raise the subject.

  “Should I book a restaurant for Friday?” Matt asked tentatively on Wednesday morning.

  “Best not – I’ve got a client.”

  “On our anniversary?”

  “I know,” she said, “but it had to be done this Friday and both Fi and Emily are fully booked. It shouldn’t take long, it’s an early one.”

  “You’d rather take a few pounds than spend your anniversary with your husband?” When he put it like that, she realised how weak it sounded.

  “I’m sorry – it wasn’t the money, it was more the reputation of the business, y’know, the reliability.”

  “But you can cancel it now that we’re selling.”

  “I can’t, she’s relying on us.”

  “So some woman’s feelings, who you’ve never met, matter more than mine?”

  “We haven’t exactly been great company for each other lately have we? I thought it best to avoid another argument.”

  “You took the job to avoid me?” The uncomfortable truth finally dawned on him.

  “No.” She emptied her mug into the sink. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.” She leant over to kiss his cheek but he turned his head like a petulant child avoiding a kiss from an old aunt. She sighed and walked away.

  She glanced at her reflection in the train window as the train passed through a tunnel. She’d become someone they used to laugh at. Matt called them ‘tired marrieds’, people who were bogged down in their marriage and were glad to go to work to get away from the verbal minefield at home. She’d made him promise that he’d shoot her if she ever got like that. Shooting made her think of Joshua’s answer to her question: he had shot someone. Joshua. How much simpler would her life be if he hadn’t walked into it? Yet she couldn’t blame him; it wasn’t possible to expose cracks in something that wasn’t cracked.

  Matt phoned Billy. He didn’t expect Billy to offer any useful advice, but he could speak freely to him and he needed to pour it all out to someone.

  “D’you know what I’d do if it was me?” Billy said.

  “No.”

  “I’d pack a bag, book myself on one of those porn cruises and forget all about her. She’s dragging you down mate. Men weren’t made to be tied to one woman.”

  Matt wondered what a porn cruise was, but couldn’t face the explanation.

  “I love her Billy and everything I do pushes her further away.”

  “I’m going to say something to you now and it’s going to shock you. I’ve never liked Georgie. Never liked the girl. OK, she’s got a cracking body. And a gorgeous face. And that lovely hair – yeah, her hair’s lovely. And she’s clever and funny. And most people would think she was charming – don’t get me wrong – she is charming. And she loves you – God, any fool can see that. And I can’t remember you ever being so happy as since you’ve been with her. And not that you’ve ever shared the info but I bet she’s blinding in the sack. But I’ve never liked her. She’s not right for you. I always thought so.”

  “When you put it like that it’s hard to disagree,” Matt smiled. A thought that had been festering in the back of his mind for some time suddenly blossomed. He ended his conversation with Billy and sprinted up the stairs to his computer. Logging on to the website he required, he tapped away at the keyboard for twenty minutes, pausing only to take his credit card from his wallet. Having completed his task he leant back in his seat and selected a Twix from his drawer.

  *

  Joshua Daniels sat outside Bailey Martin’s offices with a large brown envelope resting across his lap. One thing his job demanded was patience. It hadn’t been naturally gifted to him but over the years he’d gradually acquired it. He’d had one job where he’d staked out a woman’s apartment for two weeks before any action occurred. It was worth it though, especially when a man had climbed out of the first floor window sans trousers and a drawer of sex toys had been chucked out from the window above him. He could’ve sat there all day if necessary, but after two hours he spotted his quarry.

  “Hey! Jeff. Buddy – wait up,” he called, sprinting down the road after him. Jeff had taken him by surprise, exiting from a side door.

  “How do you know my name?”
Jeff asked.

  “Lemme buy you lunch – I’ll explain.”

  “You’re not some kind of poofter are you?” Jeff never trusted men in suede shoes.

  “God you’re making this difficult,” Joshua snapped, “I’m trying to make you a wealthy man with no effort on your part and you’re really tempting me to change my mind.”

  “What do you mean ‘wealthy’?”

  “Can I buy you lunch?”

  “OK,” Jeff eyed him suspiciously. “What’s this about?”

  “I believe we have a mutual acquaintance who’s a bit of a thorn in our side. Georgia Brown. How would you like to bring her down a peg or two and make a lot of money at the same time?” Joshua knew when he’d hooked them; the eyes narrowed and some lip-licking usually followed.

  Jeff stared at him and licked his lips.

  “Lunch couldn’t hurt, I suppose.”

  Joshua hated causing grief for Georgia by pretending to side with Jeff. But needs must.

  *

  Georgia headed out to a client review meeting sensing that two hours with the Financial Controller was something she could live without, but it had been arranged and she had to get on with it. She hadn’t met him before, as he was a recent appointment. His secretary led Georgia into his office on arrival. Keeping his back to her, he beckoned that she should come in and sit down, not speaking as he was on a conference call.

  Georgia sat in the tubular steel-framed chair and the leather of the seat creaked in the embarrassing way that leather did. She glanced around the room; it was the office of an overworked but efficient man: there was more paper in his out tray than the in tray, his waste paper basket was full and any files and printouts were neatly stacked with all the edges square and even. Around his computer monitor were numerous photos of children. Georgia guessed he had one son and one daughter and the photographs charted them growing up. Any man that proud of his family had to have some merit to him.

  “Well Georgia, nice to meet you at last – I must say that your audit team have been no trouble at all.” He spun his chair around to face her.

  She didn’t have time to think of her usual response to statements like that: that if her audit team had been no trouble then they hadn’t been doing their jobs well enough. Her spine was wrapped in ice. He wasn’t a stranger to her. Georgia forgot names as easily as she forgot how many calories she’d eaten but she never forgot a face. He’d been a Rabbit. She forced a smile and prayed that he wouldn’t remember her.

  “Nice to meet you too,” she said and they shook hands, far more formally than they had the last time they met.

  Occasionally during their conversation, particularly when she laughed, she noticed him glance at her with a perplexed look. If he places me I’m dead; she panicked but kept it hidden. She’d always known this would happen, that her worlds would collide. It was foolish to think they wouldn’t. As he explained his rationale for the specific provisions she didn’t take in a word. When she leant on a printout, the paper stuck to her hand. She wondered what the symptoms of a coronary were and whether her racing heart would suddenly just give up and stop. Things had gone too far. She might try and laugh about it later but the situation was horrible. It was decision time: auditing or Blokebusting.

  As soon as she left the room she called Fiona.

  “It’s the way he looks at me that freaks me out. Y’know the look? When you recognise something about someone but you can’t place it and you’re scared to ask them because neither you nor they might want to be reminded of the circs. If he places me I’ve had it. Bye bye dignity.”

  “Don’t be so harsh on yourself.”

  “Harsh?” Although Georgia lowered her voice, the way she extended the word made it sound aggressive. “The last time I saw him I was wearing a blonde wig – very little else, calling myself Tracy and trying to get into his trousers. Today I was brunette, suited and advising him about reviewing his bad debt provisions. I think he’d have the right to be confused.”

  “Hmm. And when you tested him, was he up for it?”

  Georgia delayed her answer until a member of her audit team had passed her in the corridor. “I’ll be five minutes,” she mouthed, pointing to her phone. Her colleague nodded. She made Fiona repeat the question before gloomily answering, “In every sense of the phrase.”

  “You’re screwed. I take back my earlier placatory comments.”

  “Don’t mention it to Matt.”

  “Do you know that’s the second time you’ve said that to me now?”

  *

  Matt paced the living room waiting for Georgia to come home. He didn’t want to row with her but things had to be staged nicely for Friday.

  “Don’t start on me – I’ve had a crap day,” she said as soon as she got through the door.

  “Why?”

  “Nothing specific, just work in general.” She flopped onto the sofa. What she would have given at that moment for Matt to offer a foot rub or a hug. “Got under my skin that’s all.” She knew she wouldn’t be able to express it.

  “I thought about what you said this morning – about doing that client.” He sat on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Matt – don’t let’s argue again. I’m too tired.”

  “No, I agree. About the client. You should do it. Another one’s come through that has to be done Friday so I’ve given you that one too – might as well if you’re up there.”

  “You don’t mind?” She took her hairclip out and her hair tumbled over her shoulders. Matt watched, as awe-struck as when he saw it for the first time.

  “No. Not at all.” He had to be convincing. She couldn’t suspect.

  “Oh. Right then.” She stood up, “I’ll go and get changed. Have you made any dinner?”

  “No.” He’d been too busy researching on the Internet. “Thought we could get takeaway.”

  She nodded and went upstairs. There was something different about his manner that she couldn’t put her finger on it. She slipped her jacket off and reached into the wardrobe to find its hanger. Sliding the waistband of her skirt around so the zip was at the front, she undid it and let it fall to the floor, scooping it up on her big toe. Her tights were laddered and went straight in the bin. Her blouse in the laundry basket. It wasn’t so long ago Matt would’ve manufactured a reason to sit on the bed and watch her change. Now he couldn’t bear sharing a room with her. She selected a t-shirt and jeans from the wardrobe and noticed something sitting on her shoes.

  “That bloody log!” she snarled. Picking it up, she marched downstairs. “What’s this doing in my wardrobe again?”

  “It didn’t work in the shed. I wanted to give the wardrobes another chance.”

  “I do not want fungus logs amongst my clothes.” She opened the dustbin and threw the log in with venom. He watched, his mouth slack with horror.

  “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “And while we’re on the subject – I am sick to death of every windowsill being cluttered with pots of earth that never grow. I can’t open a window without a thousand pots of crap getting in the way.” She knew even as she said it that she didn’t mean it but was so fed up with the situation between them, she was picking on easier targets.

  He blanched but didn’t answer. He ordered Chinese takeaway without asking what dishes she wanted, choosing for both of them. Whether he omitted her favourite dish, smoked chicken, on purpose she couldn’t decide but she refused to mention it.

  *

  On Thursday afternoon, just as Matt was pondering whether to water his potatoes or not, the doorbell sounded. Matt opened the front door and his face fell.

  “What do you want?”

  “To talk,” Joshua replied, calmly indifferent to the hostile greeting.

  “I don’t think there’s anything we need to say to each other. Georgia’s not in, if that’s your real reason for calling.”

  “I know. She’s at work.”

  The woman who lived next door appeared on her doorstep a
nd fumbled with a key to lock the door behind her. She nodded a breezy hello to Matt and turned girly at the sight of Joshua, who looked every inch the Milk Tray man in his all-black ensemble.

  “Oh… hello,” she tittered like a sixteen year old.

  “Hi there,” Joshua beamed, the paragon of affability.

  “If you’re calling at all the houses you best do me now – before I head off.”

  “Tempting though ‘doing you’ would be I’m actually calling on my old friend Matthew.” He patted Matt’s arm to show what great mates they were. Matt cringed at the neighbour’s expression. He’d seen it so many times before with Georgia’s work mates; the look that said, ‘What are you doing hanging around with someone this good looking?’

  “You sound American, how do you know each other?” The neighbour had never spoken more than a couple of words to Matt. Suddenly she wanted to get chatty.

  “We go way back,” Joshua smiled giving Matt a shove so he could get into the house. He closed the door behind him and looked around at the décor and furnishings, making no attempt to disguise his nosiness.

  “What do you want?” Matt’s heart thumped against his ribs. This was his home, so why did he feel like the awkward one?

  “I’ve answered that already. You need to listen more.” Josh strolled into the living room and sat down. “Did Georgia pick the colour scheme in here?”

  Matt nodded.

  “I figured so. When we get a place together I’ll let her pick all the furnishings – she’s got good taste.” He eyed Matt up and down before making piercing eye contact. “In some things anyway.”

  “If you’re here to insult me then you might as well leave. Now.” Matt tried to sound imposing and pointed to the door for emphasis. Joshua snorted softly and looked about as threatened as a boxer being hit with a candyfloss.

  “I think we need to talk about me buying your business. Timings of handing it over – that kinda thing. And how Georgia’s directorship will work out. Where she’ll be based, whether you’ll play nicely or make her feel shitty. You know she loves the business and that she wants to stay on and work with me, right?” Sensing he was hitting the nerve he’d aimed for, he smiled. “We get along real well.”