‘What’s going on here?’ I hear a man’s voice bellow. For a moment, I forget where I am, and I’m confused by the unfamiliar voice.
Opening my eyes I realise I’m still at Rob and Sue’s. The movie must have finished because the TV is still on, but the screen has gone to black, and at some point Jack and I must have fallen asleep because we’re still cuddled up on the sofa. Jack looks like he’s just woken up, too – I imagine the same thing woke us both up: Rob and Sue standing over us, looking seriously unimpressed.
‘You told me you wouldn’t have sex in front of my kids,’ Sue says angrily.
‘We needed someone to hold the camera,’ Jack jokes, so I give him a nudge. Now is not the time or place for inappropriate jokes.
‘Sue, that’s not what’s been going on here at all,’ I assure her. Glancing down at myself in nothing but a hoodie, then at Jack with his shirt off, I can understand them jumping to the conclusion they have, having found us asleep on the sofa like this.
‘We had an accident,’ I explain. ‘April said we needed to feed her fish, so I went to help her, Jack stayed with Peter, who got food all over himself and Jack, and while that was happening April knocked her fishbowl over – which broke, by the way, and they’re currently swimming around in your sink. Our clothes got ruined, it’s been crazy.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Sue asks. She looks completely lost and so does Rob.
I just stare at them for a moment. I realise I babbled my way through that explanation, but I don’t know how I can convey the sequence of events any more plainly.
‘April is cute,’ Jack says, breaking the awkward silence. ‘And Peter is funny, he ran rings round me.’
‘Who are April and Peter?’ Rob asks.
Jack and I look at each other for a moment.
‘Your kids?’ I reply, but it sounds more like a question than an answer.
Rob and Sue burst into laughter.
‘Is that what they told you their names were?’ Sue cackles.
‘Sonique, our girl, is going through a bit of a Spider-Man phase,’ Rob explains. ‘And our boy is called Roberto Junior.’
Both Jack and I laugh hysterically. I’m laughing at the misunderstanding, but also at the fact they named their kids Sonique and Roberto Junior – I knew they had bizarre names.
‘Well, that explains why he didn’t listen to me when I said “Peter, please don’t cover me in spaghetti”,’ Jack reasons with a laugh.
With Sue satisfied I haven’t been getting it on in front of her kids, she grabs me by the hand.
‘Come with me,’ she insists. ‘I’ll give you some clothes to wear home.’
As Sue drags me out of the room I hear Rob say to Jack, ‘Well, you’re not borrowing any of my clothes.’
‘Well, they wouldn’t fit me, would they?’ Jack replies, the hostility between them as strong as it was earlier.
I sit on Sue’s bed and watch as she riffles through her wardrobe for something to send me home in. That way I can give Jack his hoodie back and he won’t have to go home shirtless.
‘Georgie, I’m going to tell you this because I’m your friend and I only want what’s best for you, OK?’
I nod my head.
‘At school you were this free spirit. You were one of those stupid hippies – no offence – who would walk around fields without shoes on and you didn’t care what people thought or what your clothes looked like. But you’ve come back and – no offence – you’re a snob. Kaz and I can’t believe how stuck up you are now. It’s your clothes, it’s the way you talk, we can see you looking down on us and on everything around us and it’s not cool.’
I am taken aback by her sudden and outrageous attack on my character, given that we’ve only spent one evening together since I got back. They’ve obviously painted this picture of me based on nothing but my social media presence, but surely everyone knows that no one has the life they pretend to on social media? Even my presence here with Jack is all a sham, too. I’m just putting up whatever pretty front I think people will be impressed by, and none of it is true. I’m just a walking, talking lie of an Instagram picture – one that was taken along with two hundred others to get the perfect shot, and is now heavily distorted with a beautiful, misleading filter.
I love it when people say ‘no offence’ when what they actually mean is ‘I’m about to say something majorly offensive’.
‘Sometimes, when you’re around Jack, I see the old Georgie shining through. I don’t know why you’re trying to hide her.’
I’m not trying to hide her. I’ve just reconditioned myself to be this perfect young lady, the kind semi-famous orchestral pianists ask to marry them. It’s hard to drop the act.
‘You think you’re better than us because you live in LA and you’ve got a hot boyfriend with a good job? Rob is a contender for the manager’s position at McDonald’s in town, so you’re not the only one with stuff happening. You just need to remind yourself that you’re no better than the rest of us,’ she concludes. ‘OK?’
I nod my head. With just a few sentences, Sue has left me absolutely speechless.
‘Here,’ she says as she hands me £10 and the beach dress she expects me to go home in. ‘Give us that hoodie, I’ll take it to Jack.’
Sue gives me a kiss on the cheek before heading downstairs.
For a second, I just sit on her bed in my underwear, thinking about every word she just said to me. Is that really what people here at home think of me?
Reluctantly, I pull on the long, bright-yellow dress and head downstairs. Jack is waiting for me by the front door.
‘I thought it best I wait here,’ he whispers. ‘Before I kill Roberto Senior.’
‘Bye,’ I call into the living room.
‘Are you OK?’ Jack asks once we’re outside.
‘Bad mood,’ I tell him bluntly.
‘Come on,’ he says as he grabs hold of my hand, ‘let’s walk home. You can tell your hubby all about it.’
‘Sue told me I’m stuck up now, and that I look down on people,’ I tell him as we stroll through Brightside, which is surprisingly alive with people considering it’s nearly 2 a.m.
‘Is it because you told her that dress is disgusting?’ He laughs as he nods towards my outfit.
I laugh, but it doesn’t do much to lift my mood.
‘Georgie, you’re not a snob. They had a Call of Duty poster on the wall in their living room. They named their children Sonique and Roberto Junior. Sue owns that dress. If you’re a snob, then I’m a snob.’
‘Then why do you call me princess?’ I ask.
Jack doesn’t reply. Instead, we temporarily pause our conversation as we walk past a gang of lads who are smoking at the side of the road. All six of them are dressed in almost identical navy-blue tracksuits, but a variety of interesting hairstyles, neck tattoos and caps give them their individuality.
I was hoping we might be able to walk past them unnoticed and without trouble, but this is Brightside, and I notice the skinhead staring at us as we walk.
‘All right love,’ he says, throwing his cigarette down, walking along behind us. He has skin so pale it’s almost transparent and you’d be forgiven for thinking the veins in his neck are showing, but they’re actually just tattooed on. He must be the leader because the rest of his gang follow closely behind him.
In no mood for trouble, I decide to ignore him and thankfully Jack does the same.
‘I’m talking to you,’ the skinhead snaps at me.
I stop dead and turn around to face him.
‘What?’
‘Why don’t you ditch the big lad and come smoke a little weed with us,’ he suggests. What a romantic, and you’ve almost got to admire the balls on him, talking about Jack like that. Then again, he has strength in numbers.
‘Hey, watch it,’ Jack says, squaring up to him.
These puny little boys may not be even half his size, but there are six of them. He may have them outgunned but they’ve got him outmanned, and I don’t want him getting in trouble on my behalf.
‘Ooh, Yankee Doodle Dandy,’ the skinhead teases.
I take Jack by the arm and usher him away, but this only makes the skinhead angrier. The problem is that I’m already in a bad mood, and I’m certainly not in the mood for this shit tonight.
‘Oi, do you know who my dad is?’ the skinhead calls out as he follows us closely, like he’s some kind of Brightside celebrity or something.
‘I don’t,’ I reply. ‘Do you know who your dad is?’
And there it is. I stare at Jack and give him a look, a look that says: ‘Did I really just say that out loud?’ His eyes widen, but he smiles at me – I think he’s impressed.
‘What the fuck did you just say, love?’ the skinhead asks me as he gets right up in my face. Jack tries to get between us but four members of the gang hold him back – yes, it takes four of them.
‘You know, I don’t usually hit girls,’ he says, and even though I’m terrified, I don’t let it show.
‘Really? Well, that makes you the odd one out on this estate then, doesn’t it?’ I reply.
The skinhead laughs, but his smile soon dissolves and a look of pure rage spreads across his face.
‘You asked for this,’ he tells me as he makes a fist.
I quickly close my eyes, just in time before I hear the sound of knuckles smashing into cheekbone. But I don’t feel a thing. I open my eyes and see the gang running off and making whooping noises, but it’s only when I turn to look at Jack clutching his face that I realise he’s been hit.