I’m not saying I’m bad at relationships, but I’ve managed to lose two boyfriends in as many weeks, only cementing my theory that I’m going to die having had more cats than husbands.
Tomorrow morning I have to be up early for Amy’s wedding, and yet here I am, at one a.m., sitting in Becky’s Diner drinking tea that is far too weak to be even a little palatable. Still, it’s the only place that’s open 24 hours so here I am.
There’s a young couple – about my age – at the table next to me, although it sounds like they’ve just met. The guy doesn’t seem so bad, but the girl is absolutely wasted.
‘What’s your name again?’ she asks him, although it’s hard to make out her accent as she slurs her words and shoves chips into her mouth.
‘Simon,’ he tells her slowly, like he’s repeating himself for the millionth time.
‘I’m going to just call you Pablo,’ she tells him, hitting him on the nose with a chip before putting it in her mouth. ‘You just look like a Pablo; I think it’s your moustache.’
I glance up at Simon/Pablo and see that he doesn’t have a moustache at all, and I laugh to myself.
‘You want to get out of here, Pablo?’ she asks.
‘Sure,’ he replies, taking her hand and leading her out, their food hardly touched, just left on the table.
I can’t actually think of anything worse than getting drunk and pulling some random dude in a burger bar in the early hours of the morning. In fact, I’d rather have the burger.
I don’t want to be single. I don’t think I’d be very good at it. I was absolutely crap at it before I met Will, and I don’t know how Danny and I ended up together, but it wasn’t my allure, that’s for sure.
I can’t do nights out, flirting, dates! The thought of signing up for something like Tinder, putting my face out there for guys to swipe through, judging me on my hair, the size of my nose, the colour of my eyes. Even something like Plenty of Fish, where you fill out a profile, doesn’t inspire me with much confidence. I mean, Danny and I had nothing in common, and yet we were perfect for each other. I fucked that up though, didn’t I? I should’ve just left Will to bleed out.
It’s back to nights in, eating my sad little dinners for one, watching Netflix and stroking my cat to stave off the loneliness. No, that’s not a euphemism, although give it a few months and I’m sure it will be.
I consider ordering another cup of tea, because this one has gone cold, but then it occurs to me that I’m unemployed now. I don’t have any real savings, I already kind of live from cheque to cheque, and I don’t see last month’s wage lasting me very long at all, not after my little splurge in Brighton. Spending one pound on a cuppa might not seem like much, but I’m not sure how many cuppas I’ve got left in my account.
My phone buzzes on the table in front of me and I quickly grab it, hoping that it’s Danny. I’ve been trying to call him since earlier, but he isn’t answering. It isn’t Danny; it’s Amy.
Amy: So nervous. Can’t sleep! Xxx
Me: Don’t be nervous, you’re going to be so happy together. Xxx
Amy: Didn’t think you’d be up… Are you with a boy? ;) xxx
I glance at the drunk dude next to me, who’s decided he’ll share my table with me. He’s hunched over eating a cheeseburger, the burger grasped so firmly in both hands that he’s squashing it to a pulp. He keeps looking from left to right, like one of the other drunk dudes might try pinch it from him.
Me: Not quite. Sitting in a diner on my own, just thinking about things. Spectacularly fucked up the boy thing. Xxx
Amy: Which one? Xxx
Me: Danny. Xxx
Amy: No, which diner? Xxx
Me: Oh…haha. Oxford Street. Xxx
The next I hear from Amy, she’s standing right in front of me. Her long brown hair is wound up in a bun on top of her head and she isn’t wearing a scrap of make-up. The thing I love the most about Amy is that she probably doesn’t care either. She’s got the kind of self-confidence most girls could only dream of.
‘Holy shit,’ she gasps. ‘Look at you!’
‘Oh yeah.’
I’d forgotten about my makeover, and it only reminds me of how happy Danny made me.
‘Let me grab a drink. You can tell me all about it.’
‘Aims, you’re up early tomorrow – you’re getting married! You can’t sit here with me and the other losers. You should be sleeping,’ I insist, causing burger boy next to me to flash me a momentary look of being hurt and offended, before getting over it and getting back to his meal.
Amy looks at him and wrinkles her nose.
Becky’s at this time of night is wild. People are coming here after their nights out, and they are animals – something about alcohol just does that to people. They’re eating meat, dry humping (at least I hope that’s as far as it’s going) strangers in the not so dark corners of the room, everyone has their volume turned up to maximum as they squawk at each other and bark their orders and you can forget about any kind of queue – it’s every man for himself. I mean, they actually have a bouncer on the door. At a diner. Need I say more?
‘It’s fine. Two seconds, OK?’
I smile and nod.
While Amy is at the counter, she looks back at me and smiles.
‘Here, I brought you another tea,’ she says, plonking it down in front of me. ‘Shit, Candice. You’re hardly recognisable. You look fucking incredible!’
‘Danny’s hard work,’ I tell her.
‘Well, the boy has taste. Your hair is going to look cracking with your blue bridesmaid dress. I’m even changing my plans,’ she says excitedly. ‘You rock the big, sexy curls, so I think we’ll go with that.’
I smile weakly.
‘OK, what happened?’ she asks.
‘Well, you were right about Danny. He’s the most amazing man I have ever met…but then – ’
‘Oh, let me guess… Will stuff?’
I nod. My friend is used to hearing this phrase.
‘Fuck mother-fucking Will,’ Amy rants. ‘You might not think it’s as bad, but he was cheating on you with his wife. End of. You deserve better than that.’
I bite my lip, scared to tell her the full story.
‘What?’ she asks, reading my mind.
‘As up for debate as the wife thing might be, the fact he was knocking off the office cleaner too is pretty clear cut.’
I watch a rush of colour tint my usually pale-skinned friend’s complexion.
‘So, I’m going to go and punch him in the fucking face,’ she says through gritted teeth. ‘Where is he?’
‘Save your hand,’ I tell her. ‘Danny already did it.’
‘Good for him. So, what’s the problem?’
‘Me. I’m the problem. I should have left with Danny but I didn’t. I stayed to help Will, to hear him out…and when Danny was helping me, one thing he always said was that he wasn’t going to be my intervention, the one who had to forcibly stop me interacting with Will. I shouldn’t have needed stopping; I shouldn’t have given him the time of day.’
‘Bit hard when you work for him,’ Amy reasons, rubbing my hand.
‘Yeah, I quit.’
‘You quit?’
‘Yep.’
‘But…you’re you,’ she replies, clearly struggling with a way to get her point across without offending me.
‘Yep. Well, now I’m single and soon to be unemployed.’
‘Well…at least your hair looks nice.’ She laughs, and even I crack a smile. ‘Candice, you’re going to be fine. Don’t worry about any of this tonight. Come back to mine, get some rest and just have fun tomorrow. Don’t think about any of this.’
I glance at my phone to check the time (and, if I’m being honest, to see if Danny has texted me) but I only catch a glimpse of the screen before my battery dies.
‘OK, sure,’ I tell her. ‘I don’t suppose you have an iPhone charger, do you?’
‘You know how I feel about Apple,’ she frowns. ‘But Ted will, I’m sure.’
I knock back the last of my tea and climb to my feet.
‘Damn, girl,’ Amy calls. ‘Look at you. I can’t believe this is you.’
‘I might look different, but I’m still the same fuck-up on the inside.’
Amy grabs me and hugs me. ‘Yeah, but you’re my fuck-up.’