On Friday, 18th January, Betts, Darcy <[email protected]> wrote at 16:10: Sorry, no, I’ve got loads to do, and Simon is calling at half past so that we can “iron some things out.” Can we e-mail? Or text. Group chat in case one of the others needs to step in when I’m on the phone?
On Friday, 18th January, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 16:12: Darcy, is there something wrong with me? I just went to the clinic and this nurse who seems to be keeping tabs on me has basically said that I’m fucked up and gave me a counseling referral. Do I go there too often? Am I damaged beyond repair?
On Friday, 18th January, Betts, Darcy <[email protected]> wrote at 16:16: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you clinically, but there’s no harm in talking to a professional about what’s been going on. Maybe, and don’t take this the wrong way, maybe change your attitude toward the way that you engage with men?
On Friday, 18th January, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 16:19: What’s wrong with the way I engage with men??
My phone lit up. The question was too big for Darcy to handle alone. She’d taken it to the group text.
THE CORGIS
Darcy
Queenie has just asked what’s wrong with the way she engages with men
Kyazike
LOL
Kyazike LOL I don’t think any of us will ever be able to answer that one
Queenie
Thanks, Kyazike
Kyazike
You know what I mean though. You’re just boy-mad, innit. You’ve gone rebound crazy. But for some reason it’s all dickheads you’re going for
Queenie
I don’t think that’s true
Cassandra
Is that a joke? That tweed guy? The OkCupid boys who throw you about? The anal guy?
Darcy
I agree with Cassandra, actually. Look at the way you are with Chuck: he’s obsessed with you, wants to know how you are and actually listens when you answer, stares at you in meetings, hangs off of every word you say, makes you unlimited cups of tea (which he won’t do for anyone else), and you just look past him
Kyazike
What is a Chuck?
Darcy
He’s our intern
Kyazike
Oh, Chuck is someone’s NAME? Skeen
Cassandra Why not open yourself up to the idea of engaging with men who are nice to you, Queenie? Not only ones who use you and make you feel terrible afterward. Do you even like the sex you have? Sorry to be so personal, but do you even orgasm?
Queenie
Well, no. But who does, when they’re being slapped and bitten and pulled around? Anyway, I like it
Cassandra
Sure you do.
Queenie
And Chuck doesn’t fancy me. Even if he did, he’s too nice for me. I don’t deserve it
Queenie
And CRUCIALLY, he almost got me fired
Darcy
Well, if we’re being honest, you almost got yourself fired
Darcy
@Kyazike, I know I should just go on Urban Dictionary, but for the sake of brevity, but what does “skeen” mean?
Kyazike
It means seen
Kyazike
Like, I see
Darcy
Right. I’m with you
Queenie
THANKS, ALL
On Friday, 18th January, Betts, Darcy <[email protected]> wrote at 16:28: Let’s talk about this properly tomorrow. Maybe you should go home early, I think you should probably have a bit of time for yourself? I’ll cover for you.
I am fine. Fine, I told myself on repeat as I packed my bag. I snuck back out of the office and saw Ted smoking on the wall opposite, his head bowed. My, at this point, inexplicable fondness for him made me walk over and hoist myself up on the wall next to him.
“Remember me?” I asked.
“Shit!” Ted grabbed his chest. “You scared me.”
“Overreaction,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You know, I probably should have come to find you sooner,” Ted said, his mouth stretched in a grimace.
“Or replied to my many e-mails?”
“I’m sorry. But after we . . . I just. . . . It didn’t feel right.”
“Oh, cheers for that,” I said. “What’s wrong with me?”
“No, nothing, nothi—”
Ted stopped abruptly when we were joined by Gordon, his desk mate, who was still wearing clothes that were too tight for him.
“Have you got a lighter, Ted?” Gordon asked, shoving a hand in his jeans and pulling out a pack of cigarettes with great difficulty.
“Here ya go.” Ted handed it over.
“I keep meaning to ask,” began Gordon, who was obviously not going to acknowledge my presence, “where was it you went on your honeymoon, again? I’m thinking about somewhere nice and sunny to take the missus in a few weeks. Neither of us can bear the winter.”
I hopped off the wall and tried my hardest not to be sick all the way home.
chapter
EIGHTEEN
I STAYED IN bed tormented by nausea until I started to clean the house to try to take my mind off it all. When the dark thoughts were at their loudest, I went for a walk to clear my head, but took a wrong turn and ended up on the main road by the notoriously rowdy White Horse on Brixton Hill. I was seized by such sadness as I watched its revelers spilling out into the street, the noise of Friday night fun all too recognizable. I never had fun anymore. It was all just shit. I turned to walk back up the hill.
“Oh, look who it is!” I heard, and, though only marginally sure it was directed at me, turned around to see where it had come from.
“Long time. How are you?” Guy broke away from a group of boys, walked over to me, and put his pint on the ground. I seized up. “What are you up to, dressed like this?” He pulled at my paint-splattered cleaning clothes.
“Cleaning! I needed some air, all of that bleach, you know. Anyway, what are you doing here?” I asked, crossing my arms, at that point aggressively aware that I wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Pal of mine thought it would be a laugh to come here. I’ve heard some things, but I didn’t expect it to live up to them,” he said, trying his hardest to stare through my folded arms.
“Well, I should go! I should get back to it. Have a good time!” I nodded good-bye, my arms still strapped to my chest, and walked away.
THE CORGIS
Queenie
Ted is married
Darcy
WHAT?
Kyazike
Come again?
Queenie
Yep. His desk mate dropped it. Didn’t stay to find out the details
Kyazike
Give me his surname and I can get you his wife’s name, job, and Twitter handle in less than a minute. I can go DIY FBI on it
Cassandra
. . . Are you surprised?
Queenie
Er, I AM, YEAH. Are you NOT??
Cassandra
It explains his behavior, doesn’t it. The intensity, the caginess, the distance, the coming back when he got bored again, the withdrawal.
Queenie
Okay, Cassandra, if you have an answer for everything, why did he stop talking to me when we’d had sex?
Cassandra
There was no more excitement or chase, only guilt in its place. And he couldn’t handle it. He’s a coward.
Darcy
A BLOODY COWARD. I hate him for this, Queenie. I’m so sorry
Queenie
And I’ve just bumped into Welshman when I had no bra on and was wearing an outfit that was pretty much covered in paint. I smell like I’ve showered in bleach. Today is not going my way. This year is not going my way
Darcy
Please stay away from Welshman! Your resilience against men who are bad for you is VERY LOW at the moment
Cassandra
Queenie, for the love of God, stop giving any of them your energy. We’ll discuss tomorrow morning. See you at 11.
* * *
Sleep paralysis is a strange thing. I’d had dozens of episodes at university when I’d take naps; when I looked into it, I’d read that it’s something about the brain being disrupted and waking up before the body, which is why you can’t move when you’re hallucinating that there’s a faceless man climbing across the floor toward you. I’d been seeing him more often recently, but I was aware that I was stuck in an episode when I started seeing the figure of a man emerging out of the pile of clothes on the corner chair.
The doorbell was ringing, but I couldn’t get up to answer it because I was stuck to the bed, staring at him as he contorted and reached out to me. But why was the doorbell ringing?