Chapter Twenty Eight

K A R M A

"Right, so I've got that wine you like - Cabernet Sauvignon and that plastic cheese too, and some chocolate - only quality street I'm afraid," Louisa says plonking herself down on Ruby's sofa. "Plus a box of tissues just in case."

I can't help but laugh, which blows away some of the cobwebs of despair I'm currently wallowing in - at Ruby's as I've nowhere else to go and because I know she won't slam the door in my face or call me a bad person.

I knew I couldn't just arrive back at the flat looking such a state without questions being asked, and as much as I wish I could tell Abbie, I'm aware she's got bigger things on her plate and in her belly to deal with then an overly emotional, guilt ridden idiot like me.

"Thank you so much, really you guys are the best," I say when they rally beside. Like troops ready to take a bullet for me, to listen to my snivelling recap of the nights events without judgement.

Louisa pats me on the back, then unscrews the wine cap. "I knew something was wrong when I texted you that shirtless picture of Ryan Gosling and you didn't reply. That's completely unlike you."

She's right, I had ignored it. Completely. Much too caught up in my walk of shame back from hammering down Jack's door. Head heavy and weary from trying to beg my way towards forgiveness. Wondering just where on earth I could go. Who I could talk to, who wouldn't tell me I deserved it, and who wouldn't remind me with glee that I'd got served a steaming dish of karma for all my lies and the double crossing.

I had tried phoning Louisa on my wayward walk back but she'd been out on the town. Dancing up a storm with Simon, in a nightclub with dodgy phone reception. Still, she tried calling back but it was hard to explain what was going on over static and electronic auto tuned choruses. My voice cutting in and out.

So I'd taken the bus to Ruby's instead, who was thankfully still up. Looking a little worse for wear herself. Face red and blotchy, as if she'd been crying her eyes out to show solidarity, make me feel a little less bad about my snotty and tear stained appearance.

Louisa had followed shortly after, foregoing shots of Sambuca with Simon, in response to a rambling text message I'd sent on the bus to explain my despair, and just why I needed her. My fingers hurting from typing out his name - Jack, like I didn't even deserve too.

"Have you been crying as well?" Louisa asks Ruby as she comes back with wine glasses and a bowl of crisps.

She shrugs, and looks away from us. "Just some stuff with Joel. It's fine now."

"What's all that?"

Ruby glances down at a red plastic box by her side of the sofa. The lid haphazardly pushed down. Like it's trying to contain all the paperwork stuffed in it that pokes out. A box that she had been quick to kick aside when I first arrived.

I get the impression I interrupted something important but she told me it was just some junk she was sorting through, to clear out.

"Junk," she repeats again and Louisa turns her attention back to the snivelling wreck trying to sip wine with shaky hands and a blocked nose - me.

"That's it, get some of that sweet nectar down you and I promise you'll feel better."

I let it wash down. "It won't. And I don't. Feel better. I feel worse."

"Come on, I'm sure once Jack's calmed down he'll want to talk. And he'll realise that it's not that bad. It's not like he caught you with your knickers round your ankles or giving Dylan a blowie under the table," Louisa sighs, crossing her legs up on the sofa. "You'll probably both laugh about this someday you know."

"I doubt it."

Ruby edges forwards on the sofa opposite and offers a slightly more rational, and not so impossible take on the current sad state of affairs. "He really likes you Jem, there's no way he'd just back away or give up on you now. Even with what's happened. Everyone deserves a second chance."

I choke back another sip. It just leaves a bitter taste. "I'm a liar. And liars of my caliber don't deserve second chances. I've royally fucked it up."

"But you never meant to hurt him. You were keeping the whole Dylan thing a secret so you wouldn't. Jack will understand. Especially when you tell him you were there to call things off. Which you did."

Louisa and Ruby both pause, their gaze falling to me as I mine shifts awkwardly. A lie threatening to fill the silence until I shake my head and it away slowly. "No. I didn't."

"So Dylan still has no idea?" Louisa says, taking in a deep breath. "Shit."

"Exactly. I still haven't even had that conversation with him yet. Jack showed up and I couldn't do it," I reply, mimicking her. My chest rising and falling to swallow back further tears.

"But you're going to?"

I shrug. "Of course, I just don't know when or how to now. Not sure I can deal with him being disappointed with me too."

"He won't be," Ruby chimes in, eyes sincere. "I mean you still don't know about him and Felicity."

"Felicity?" Louisa asks. "Who the hell is Felicity?"

Her face scans mine and I give her a brief rundown of my suspicions that Dylan may not be as exclusively into me as I'd once thought. How maybe he's been lying too, not that I mind, especially not when I've been hiding Jack behind his back and vice a versa.

When she's poured another round of wine, she leans back and laughs. "Blimey, bit complicated isn't it?"

"Just a bit."

"But it could be a good thing, like we said earlier because if something has been going on between them then that makes it easier to tell him that you don't want to carry on, doesn't it?" Ruby says, declining the chocolate Louisa pushes her way.

"It would but it still doesn't solve anything with Jack."

"Oh he'll be fine," Louisa seems certain of this, casually rolling her eyes. "He's not exactly mister monogamy is he? And it's not like you guys have been together forever. Are you even, you know together?"

I take a moment to consider the answer. Because in some ways she's right - we haven't officially declared our 'status' but I know that the past few days have cemented the fact that I don't want anyone else, and that hopefully he doesn't either.

"I'm not sure. But I would like us to be," I say finally, in between deep breaths and contemplative thought. Lost in remembering our lazy Sunday, and just how right it felt. Then I picture Jack, in the doorway of his apartment block, and just how wrong it felt to see so much disappointment and sadness etched across his face.

Good memories tainted by the consequences I'd been careless and naive to ignore. Pretending like they'd never manifest because I had it all planned out. Finally had my shit together.

Wrong again.

"Well then give him a call in the morning and I am sure he'll come around," Louisa says, offering a smile. "Look, I lie to Brett all the time."

"You do?"

"Yeah, nothing major, little fibs here and there but we're still fine."

"That's probably because he hasn't found out yet."

"True but even if he did, we'd get through it," she sighs, tossing back her hair. "Life's too short to hold grudges or get hung up on silly things that can be easily fixed."

"But how would you feel, if Brett did to you what I've done? Would you forgive him for dropping such a bombshell, for hiding so much away for so long?"

Louisa stews on my question, tilts her head up.

"I would feel upset," Ruby cut's in, her voice quiet. "But I would want to hear why you did it. And I would understand. Sometimes you have to hide things, to protect those you care about."

Myself and Louisa stare at her, how she just keeps shrugging. Like she might cry, as if she really is upset at at such hypothetical scenario.

"They do say you always hurt the ones you love," Louisa finally chimes in wistfully, before placing her hand on my knee. "Wait, do you actually like love him?"

"Uh, well I-"

"Have you ever been in love?"

Yes. No. Maybe. But most likely - not really. It's difficult to pin down a memory of feeling in love with anyone from my past. All I know is that something rotten is burying itself deep within my chest and that it hurts. Keeps twisting with every thought that lingers back to Jack.

"I honestly don't know." Is the only answer that feels right. "Not like I've got the option of finding out though."

"I think love is like a flame," Ruby whispers, hair falling into her eyes as she hunches her shoulders. "Because you can throw a lot at it but if it's strong, and if it's real it'll always keep burning."

"Sweet jesus, I think I might tear up," Louisa chuckles though she sounds serious. Hand against her chest, like the words really have hit her hard. "That was beautiful."

"Just my opinion," Ruby replies, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

I push my bottom lip out, the words lovely and cute wanting to slip though, dancing on my tongue. "I hope that's true."

Ruby shrugs and sinks back into the sofa, watching Louisa pretend to wipe back a tear before she downs the last of her wine.

As I watch her too, my mind keeps coming back to something I've been thinking about a lot. That maybe answers both questions about love, and just how it can be kept alight.

"Jack's like cake," I say with slight hesitation. Not sure if I can correctly explain and convey just how I really feel. If my unusual analogy makes any sense. Still I give it a shot.

"Like cake?" Louisa is confused.

"Yeah. Jack is like cake - you hardly ever turn it down because it tastes so good and it's always different, and surprising. And sometimes you eat too much, and it makes you feel sick, which is confusing because you feel like you could eat it everyday and because of that you swear that next time you'll steer clear of it.

Both their heads bob as I continue on.

"And you try but it's hard. And you start to find that it only makes you want it more, because you can't have it. And you think that it's obviously just cravings but then you actually miss it. Like deep down in here." I press two fingers against my heart. "And the thought of never having it again is horrible. Unthinkable and then you realise that it's stupid to pretend like you don't love cake, that there's a better substitute out there somewhere."

"So... Jack's cake, wait so what's Dylan then?"

"...Dylan is like that new restaurant or food trend everyone's talking about, badgering you to try because it's so different to what they've had before - new and exotic and uncharted. And you do end up liking it, and it's good. And you start to think you'll never go back but then you find that the cravings start to die out and that you wouldn't miss it, if you never had it ever again. Like you could live without, if you had too."

"Damn, you should put that on a poster or like one of those embroidered cushions." Louisa puffs out her cheeks, slaps her hand down on the sofa as Ruby attentively listens, locked in silence.

Louisa laughs. "So what you're saying is that you can live without Dylan?"

"Yeah, in a way."

"And Jack?"

The words stick in my throat, like tiny blades. Each one dragging up the desire that burns in my chest, because I do want to keep our flame alive.

Slowly I close my eyes, as they escape."I can live without a lot, but I just... I... I really don't want to live in a world without cake."

In the silence that follows, I slump back. Waiting for one of them to say something. Anything.

"Did that make any sense?" My voice cracks and I'm sure they're both thinking I must be stark raving made to have compared men to food but Ruby nods, her knees bobbing up and down.

"It did."

Louisa nods too, like her head might fall off. And she finally speaks up to tell me that she's kicking herself for not bringing a Victoria Sponge or Chocolate Log roll. "It would have been perfect for right now!"

"Yeah," I reply unconvinced. A little miffed that the whole point has been missed. Maybe I just didn't explain it well.

"I get what you mean Jem. I do," Louisa says with a smile. "And I think you've pretty much just confessed - knowingly or not that you actually like Jack a little bit more than simply like..."

I think she's right.

*** *** ***

After we've polished off the wine and Louisa starts to slur, and when conversation about Jack begins to thaw and give way to work and office gossip, I ask Ruby if I can crash at hers for the night.

"Sure, take my room. I'll sleep on the couch."

"You can't do that," I protest but she's already pulling a fluffy blanket up over her. Toes poking out the ends as she switches on the TV.

Louisa drags herself from the sofa and I have to help her collect her heels, while she squeezes the life out of me.

"Chin up Jem. It will be all be ok in the morning. I promise."

I admire her sentiment but she's drunk, plus there's no guarantee that it will. No matter how many times she slurs and hiccups it to be true.

When I've safely got her downstairs, into a waiting black cab that I've verified isn't a dodgy one like so many that have infiltrated the city, I take the lift back up to Ruby's only to find her conked out, fast asleep.

Her soft snores drifting through as I make a drink, resting my head against her cool marble top counters. To take a few minutes to breath. Properly. Collecting my thoughts and feelings before I try and rest.

In Ruby's bedroom, I kick back the covers and slide in. A cool breeze streaming in through an open window, slowly lulling me into a soft state of slumber by the soundtrack of cars whizzing past and a city that doesn't need to sleep. Or forget. Or forgive.

And as my eye lids start to pull, a fuzzy vibration spreads out from under the pillow. My phone flashing up to reveal Jack's name.

A message sent an hour ago. Sucked away by lack of signal and pushed forwards again by luck or a better connection. Late on arrival, but still bringing with it the faintest glimmer of hope.

Because the words still read the same and hold the same weight, and though I don't quite believe Louisa's promise of it all being ok, I do feel like maybe I haven't fully extinguished the flames just yet.

And that Jack isn't keen to either.

Jem, are you home yet?

I know it's late but can't sleep until I've heard from you - text message please.

This isn't an invitation to call again.

But can you just let me know you're home safe.

Please. That's all I ask.

J x

*** *** ***

Saturday 25th July

Jack.

Jack.

I keep calling his name but his head remains turned away.

My voice failing to alert him. Muffled. As if I'm incased in water. Arms failing to connect, reach out. I can't touch him.

And it feels like I'm falling. About to slip as the ringing in my ears grows louder. Sharper.

Jack!

When I wake, drenched in sweat I find that all the covers have been pushed off and my heads hanging off the bed, phone pressed under my chest. But it's not ringing. Ruby's front door is and as I hear footsteps drag across the wooden parquet flooring I wonder just who on earth it might be.

The small clock on her bedside table reveals that it's much too early for such an intrusion, especially on a Saturday. More so after many glasses of wine.

Finding my balance and strength to swing my legs off the bed, I tip-toe over to the door and pull it quietly ajar. Careful not to reveal myself so I can find out who her visitor might be, though I know I probably shouldn't.

Part of me stupidly believes it might be Jack but then I remember he's never been to Ruby's before and that he's still annoyed. That he's got no desire to see me, let alone come half way across the city.

"What are you doing here?" I hear her hiss, only able to make out the tangled mess of dark hair swept over her shoulders from my vantage point.

A man's voice, deep and low responds. His face obscured. "Hey pickle, nice to see you too."

"Don't call me that." The irritation in her tone is conveyed clear as day. As I push the door an inch so I can get a better view of the mystery visitor, I notice that she's now got her arms crossed. Head wearily tilted to one side. Still half asleep. Her cheeks look like they're on fire - ruby red.

"Sorry."

"What... Why are you here? It's like nine am. Why?"

He steps forwards and I'm surprised to see a much older face to than the one I'd begun to conjure up. The sides of his hair streaked with grey. Jaw strong but jowls soft. Crows feet etched out the corners of his eyes that are cast low. He's wearing a dark suit, baby blue shirt collar underneath. Cuff links catching the sunlight that creeps across the apartment.

"Was just passing through on my way to an antiques fair. Thought I'd pop in, see how you're doing."

Ruby rubs at her temples and sighs. "You should have called first."

She seems agitated. Bare feet shuffling. Then her gaze darts in my direction as I quickly pull my head away.I wonder if I should come to her rescue, if she needs help because she appears worried. Keeps fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Alternating between expressions of panic and pain like she might faint and then boiling anger, annoyance like she might punch him.

But as I make the hasty decision to swiftly swoop in, she steps forwards and gives the man a lack lustre hug. He smiles weakly, tenses up his shoulders.

"I know I should have but my phones playing up at the moment."

She puts her fingers to her lips. Tells him to shush. Her voice sinking to a whisper. "Get a new one then and please be quiet, okay?"

"Had people over I take it..." he says ignoring her comment, eyes falling on the remains of wine left by the sofa. Scraps of chocolate and cheese and crisps scattered on the coffee table. Along with all my snotty, crumpled tissues. It likely looks a lot worse than it actually is, because he quickly tears his attention away.

"Dad... You need to leave. Like now."

My breath catches. All of it slowly slotting into place. Just who he is. Why he's here. And why Ruby hasn't screamed blue murder and kicked him out. I feel bad for eavesdropping but I'm intrigued to see just what her so far elusive father is like. The one who makes and breaks plans. Who continually disappoints.

"Oh, I see. Right... Boyfriend over again?"

Ruby puffs her cheeks out, visibly irritated by such an assumption. "Oh my god, seriously?"

"I'm not here to pry, sorry." He raises his palms up. "I know you've got you're own life. That you're now an adult."

"Sure, sure."

I wonder if he's the real reason why she'd been upset yesterday. If he'd broken another promise.

When he frowns, she pushes out another loud groan. "Look, I'm kind of busy so it's best we catch up another time, okay?"

"You look like you've just woken up."

"Cheers," Ruby replies dryly. "I'll call you soon alright? And we can do something then. Just not today."

"No worries Rube, I understand." He looks sad. Dejected.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

She shakes her head at him and behind her back her hands do the same. "Make me feel guilty for not wanting to see you right now. You do this to me all the time."

Bowing his head low, he shrugs. "I know and I'm sorry. This is me, here trying to rectify of that."

"Bit late."

"Come on now-"

"But it is. Real late. Too late."

"Is it?"

Ruby buries her face in her hands as she brings them up. Voice creeping between the cracks in her fingers. "Try like thirty years too late."

He stutters. "Excuse me?"

There's a long pause before she laughs, like he's told a bad joke. "Whatever. Never mind. I'm still half asleep. Forget it."

Fumbling for the door latch, he tells her to go back to bed. That he'll wait for her to phone. So they can pick a more suitable time for what he calls, with a lack of enthusiasm 'father and daughter bonding'.

All the muscles in Ruby's neck stiffen. Like she might throw up. "Yeah. Sure. OK."

"Have a good Sunday pickle."

I have to stifle a small chuckle when she her pokes her tongue out as he leaves. The word bleugh silently rolling off it while she bolts the door shut.

Tip toeing back to the bed, I wait for ten minutes until I surface. Arms stretching out like I've just woken up with no clue that her dad's just paid her a surprise visit. Ruby is back on the sofa. Hands squeezing the corners of her fluffy blanket tight. Knuckles white.

"Morning."

She barely lifts her gaze. "Morning."

"You sleep well?" I ask though she looks anything but well rested.

"Yeah."

As I sit next to her, she closes her eyes and sighs.

"Was that the door just now? Swear I heard the bell ring," I say with what I hope is the conviction of someone who doesn't snoop or listen in to private conversations.

Ruby scrapes her hair tight into a high ponytail which pulls her eyebrows up . "You did?"

"Could have just been my imagination."

"Yeah must be," she replies curtly. It causes an uneasy feeling to build in my chest.

Something isn't quite right. Why lie?

When she takes the TV remote and starts to feverishly channel hop I wonder if it's my fault. If I'm to blame, a terrible influence. Lying - a bad habit she's picked up from being in my company for too long.

Maybe it's contagious.

"You okay Ruby?"

She barely registers me. "Fine."

"You just seem a little... shaky," I say, treading delicately. "Something happen?"

"Nope."

"Do you want me to leave? Give you some space?"

Ruby finally acknowledges my presence beside her. "No. Just tired. Feel lazy."

I plump up a cushion to lounge against and laugh. "Lazy saturday then?"

"Got that boxset still to finish off if you want. Joel's not coming over till this evening."

Gently I nudge her shoulder, tell her that sounds good. Just what I need. And as she pops in the DVD the loud opening credits fill the weirdness between us and the hours of a Sunday I'm keen to waste.

And though it's unlike Ruby to be so quiet and lethargic, I feel like it's my duty to stay out of it. Because we all have reasons why we keep certain things hidden. Things we don't want to talk about or have to explain.

I don't hassle her for answers. I just sit with her and laugh, indulging in leftover chocolate and the comfort of having company that is accepting of my faults and flaws and the horrid things I've done. The people I've hurt.

Like Jack, still maintaining radio silence. Not interested to talk either.

Which hurts, feels horrid.

Just like the karma I so richly deserve.

. . .