Snow Balls (Ball Games #2) Page 7

  'Said like a true friend.' She takes her hand away.

  'Look. We need to travel there together tomorrow. Our interviews follow each other. There's a coffee shop next door. Let's wait for each other in there and be the supportive friends we've always been. If you get the job, I will be happy for you. You work hard, you deserve it.'

  'Thank you.'

  Lindsay pauses and I wait for her to say the same back to me.

  'I really want to wish you luck, Tyler, and the latest version of you will do well with the promotion if you stay that way.'

  'Er, thanks?'

  'You're welcome.'

  'So we travel there together tomorrow?'

  She nods once. 'Okay.'

  She gets up and puts her cup in the sink.

  'And because you adore me so much you'll wash my cup and put it back in the cupboard.'

  ‘Don’t push it.’ She leaves the room.

  The old me would rinse it and put it away, but the new me has standards. I wash her cup and my own mug, dry them and put them away. What the fuck is happening to me?

  My interview was before Lindsay's so I wait for her in the coffee shop. I replay my interview in my head. It went well. They seem like a nice team. It's not even that much extra travelling to get to Sheffield. My ego wants to get the job but part of me thinks it'll mean less time in bed in a morning. I’ve not changed that much. As my interview was at one-thirty pm and Lindsay's at two-thirty, Donna told us not to come back to work today.

  At half past three Lindsay appears through the door. She looks tearful.

  'You okay?'

  'I totally ballsed that up.'

  'Why?'

  'I kept going blank when they asked me questions. They kept having to prompt me. I've no chance, I know it.'

  'Same here,' I lie. 'I was hopeless.'

  'Really?'

  'Yeah. So maybe neither of will get it and we’ll be stuck with each other for another nine years. There're worse things, hey?'

  She manages a smile. 'There is.'

  'So, how about a walk around the shops followed by the buffet at Pizza Hut? My treat.'

  Lindsay nods and we leave the coffee shop to go bargain hunting.

  The pizza place is packed but we manage to find two seats and order the buffet. In the middle of eating Lindsay's phone rings. We look at each other.

  'Well, are you going to answer it?' I nod to her bag.

  She scrambles around and pulls her phone out. 'Hello? Yes, could you hold a moment while I find somewhere a little quieter?'

  She walks away and in that moment I realise she's got the job. I'm pleased for her but sad at the same time.

  As she returns to the table, I look at her for confirmation.

  She raises her shoulders. 'I got the job,' she says.

  'Congratulations.' I lean over, hug her and kiss her cheek. She blushes.

  Then my own phone rings. 'I'll take this rejection call then I'll be right back.'

  She nods.

  They tell me it was a close run thing, but that Lindsay edged me out with having slightly more experience, which I took as she'd made more effort since we'd started. It's true. She deserved it more than I did, and at least now I don’t have to get up earlier.

  I walk back to the table and call over a waitress.

  'We're celebrating. Could you bring us some garlic bread and a portion of chips?'

  Lindsay giggles.

  'Hey, got to pull out the stops when my friend gets a promotion.'

  As we chat about her new job and other subjects I realise it doesn't take a fancy Italian restaurant and a bottle of champagne to have a good time. It just needs decent people. I will miss this girl.

  ***

  My mother watches me as I walk downstairs with a bag packed for Camille's. 'So how are you getting on with house-hunting? You've gone a bit quiet on the whole thing lately. There are only two weeks left you know?'

  'Good to see you'll miss me while I'm away, Mum.' I grab my keys off the side and stick them in my pocket.

  'I will miss you more than I can express in words when you leave, Tyler. Don't think it will be easy for me. But you need to move on Ty. Life's passing you by while you sit in your bedroom. I've been aiding that by doing everything for you. I didn't realise but a mum can actually spoil her son a little too much.' She ruffles my hair as if I'm six, 'even though to me you'll always be my little boy.'

  I stand in front of her, my six-foot frame towering over her five feet six. I pat the top of her head.

  She pushes my hand away. 'Stop that. I'll put you on the naughty step and twenty-five minutes is a long time.'

  'So, Mum. Today is Sunday. Camille and Dylan are coming over for lunch and I'm going back with them as they fly tonight. Then I'm coming back for tea on Wednesday. It's not like you're being abandoned, is it? Plus you can have all that quality time you've been talking about having with Dad.'

  She sighs. 'He watches crap on television. I sit there, bored to tears, enduring it, then I'll turn around and find him asleep with his mouth hanging open. I could have watched Real Housewives instead.'

  'You'll work it out Mum, but don't be too hard on him. Anyway, it's only a week and then I'll be back.'

  'Yeah, but not for long.' She wells up. A timer in the kitchen goes off.

  'Saved by the bell. I'd better get back to my place in the kitchen.'

  My little Mum walks away and I consider what it must be like from her point of view. She and Camille were best buddies, always going shopping together. Then Camille left for University. That's when mum started with her hobbies. Making cupcakes was followed by photography, then card-making, then watercolour painting. Now she's working her way through box sets. After spending years looking after your kids, I guess it’s a shock to find they don't need you so much and you have time on your hands.

  I walk into the living room where Dad is sat reading the Sunday paper. 'Make sure you make a fuss of Mum while I'm away. Take her out to dinner or something.'

  'What? Waste of good money that.'

  'No, it's not. You don't have to go somewhere expensive. Just make sure she knows she's appreciated.'

  My dad looks at me over the top of the newspaper.

  'You've gone weird.'

  'You know I'm making sense. Plus she might leave you alone the rest of the week if you make a fuss of her one night.'

  'Now that is sensible thinking, son,' says my father. 'Shows I've done well teaching you the ways of women.'

  My mum comes through, having caught the end of the conversation. 'He's as clueless with women as you.'

  My dad bristles. 'Oh, not this again.'

  We've heard mum's story of how she met Dad so many times. Or rather how she'd hung around him for about six weeks, seeing him every Friday night in a bar before she finally went over to him and demanded he buy her a drink. That was it then. She says if she hadn't gone over he would have remained oblivious to the love-struck teenager hanging around him. She still says he can't see the wood for the trees.

  'I'm not clueless.' I think about Jennifer. 'Well, I guess I'm not fantastic at picking them.'

  'You're oblivious, like your Dad, but it's not my place to educate you this time.'

  'Mum. What are you talking about?'

  She sighs. 'Where's Camille? Dinner’s almost ready.' She heads off back to the kitchen.

  'Do you know what she's talking about?' I ask my Dad.

  'Don't know half the time, son. Best thing with women is to keep nodding at them in agreement. If their face changes and goes weird, try a disagreeing look. Works for me ninety percent of the time.'

  'What about the other ten percent?'

  'That's when I get caught out and actually have to listen to her. Now come on, let’s take a seat at the dinner table before she nags.'

  When dinner is over, myself, Camille and Dylan say goodbye to my folks. I pick up my bag and head out to their car. Two hours later they've gone, and it's just myself and their cat, Bob, who's missing in
action somewhere on the estate.

  Seven pm and I have the whole house to myself for a week. Time to loaf.

  I did not factor in a cat into my week of being alone. Sunday evening Bob jumps on the spare bed. Being fast asleep, I jump up in shock, don't know where I am and scream. Yes, it's a girly scream. I see Bob's eyes watch me and feel unnerved. As he's a black cat, all I can see are his green eyes. Is Bob bothered about my little dance? No. He sits licking a paw. I get back to bed and he jumps up, lying on my leg. I move up. He moves up, so he’s still lying on my leg. I try a third time. He moves again. I wake in the early hours of the next morning to find myself on the edge of the bed. Bob is sprawled out on the other side. Little shit. I lift him off and drop him non-ceremoniously on the floor. He hisses and turns away from me, giving me an all too vivid view of his anus and strides out of the room. The sound of wailing drifts upstairs. I don't know what the hell he's asking for in cat language but in ours, he can piss off. I close the spare door to shut out him and the sound.

  Less than thirty minutes later according to the alarm clock, I'm awoken by a scratching sound. I turn over and place the pillow over my head but he's relentless, so, in the end, I give up and open the door.

  ‘Oh my God, cat. She will kill me!’

  He's scratched a load of paintwork off Camille's door. She'll have a shit fit.

  I lay on the edge of the bed to forgo another hour of shuffling and give Bob the rest of the bed. He lies on my leg. I give up.

  My alarm is set for half past seven. Because of having Dylan's car to drive I have a precious extra half hour of sleep. When I last looked at the clock at five am it was with a sense of satisfaction that I still had two and a half hours of sleep remaining.

  I dream that Lindsay and I are in bed together. She's lying on top of me and tapping me in the face to wake me up for more sex.

  'No, not now,' I groan.

  She sticks her nails in my face. I wake up. 'What the fuck?'

  Bob is sat on my chest, his paw hovers and then gives me a little scratch again. I lift the duvet so he rolls down the bed a bit. He jumps off and stands in the doorway, then miaows at me.

  'What? It's six am mate. What's your problem now?'

  Another miaow.

  I give up and follow him downstairs where I find his food bowl empty. Yawning, I fill it, change his water and return to bed. I feel wide awake now. It's seven minutes past six. My dream nags in the back of my mind. What was it again? Then a flash of it comes to me. Lindsay laid on top of me demanding more sex. I have never before had a sex dream about Lindsay. Thoughts of her boobs on the odd occasion while wanking? Already admitted to that. Sex dreams where she wants me and I want her? What the fuck? It was nice though. I lie back in bed and recall the dream. Then I get horny and have to rub one out. I open my eyes to find that damn cat watching me from the corner of the room, yet that's not what disturbs me. What's most disturbing is that I realise I wouldn't mind it. I like Lindsay. Like really like Lindsay and she's about to leave.

  Not only that but we’re friends. Just friends.

  'What am I going to do?' I ask Bob.

  He gives me a withering glare and walks out the room. I hear the cat flap go.

  'Yeah, thanks for that, cat, and here I was thinking we'd bonded.'

  I know I'm weird around Lindsay at work but I can't help it. I've suddenly forgotten how to act around her. They're releasing her from our branch early with it being a transfer, so this is her last week in Rotherham. She's having a leaving do straight from work on Friday night. We're all off to a cheap tapas bar with karaoke.

  'How's it been on your own then?' she asks me on Thursday afternoon, finally cornering me in the staff room at lunchtime.

  'I've really enjoyed it.'

  'So are you going to find your own place then?'

  I stand and think and suddenly her words hit me. All week I've got on with chores, albeit doing them haphazardly. I've looked after a pet. I've put the main lounge television onto what I want to watch instead of having to sit in my bedroom. There’s the fact I can wank without having to be quiet. I can watch unlimited porn. For meals I can eat a proper cooked meal with vegetables one night, then pizza followed by a grab bag of crisps the next. I can sleep in my bed or on the sofa. Although, doing this at Camille's led to a cat’s arse under my nose as Bob curled up on my chest.

  'Sorry, I need to go.'

  I run out of Smiths and straight to the Estate Agents where I spend the rest of my lunch break enquiring about rental properties.

  Friday, after work, we hit the bars hard. By the time we get to the restaurant we are all nearly three sheets to the wind. The staff recognise the usual behaviour of its patrons on a) a Friday and b) a leaving do and quickly bring out complimentary snacks to take the edge off our drunkenness. We share a heap of food and Donna makes a speech about how much we'll miss Lindsay.

  Everyone shouts for Lindsay to make a speech. They've just set up the karaoke, so she grabs the microphone.

  'I want to say what a pleasure it's been working with all you motherfuckers.'

  Everyone cheers. The remainder of the restaurant joins in.

  'I'll miss you all. I've had some brilliant times at Smiths. But I'm looking forward to embracing a new start. I'm the first to admit I've been stuck in my ways, but I loved being with you so much.' She looks at me and wells up. 'I'll miss my friends, but here's to pastures new.' She holds up her glass.

  We hold up our own glasses, 'pastures new.'

  'And hopefully, there'll be some fresh new totty for me to boss around in Sheffield.'

  Everyone laughs and shouts 'fresh new totty.'

  Except me. I suddenly feel sick and head outside for some fresh air.

  I hear the door open and expect drunken chatter to follow, but instead, there’s the tap of heels on the pavement.

  'What's the matter, Ty? You've been off with me all week. Have I done something wrong?'

  I turn around. She looks at me. Her bottom lip is quivering as she plays with a chain around her neck. I don't know if it's with the cold or if she's about to cry. Without thinking, I lean down and kiss her. Proper kiss her. My mouth on hers, crushing her lips.

  She backs away. 'Ty?'

  I put my hand over my nose and mouth. 'Oh my God. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Forget I did that, please?'

  'Ty. Listen—'

  'No. Linds. I need to leave. I'm drunk. That was a mistake. Enjoy the rest of your night.' I rush off, leaving her standing there.

  I'm a coward but I couldn't face her rejection.

  It's best she goes and explores those new pastures with someone who deserves her.

  Chapter Eight

  I tidy up Camille's house on Sunday. I even venture outdoors and get them some fresh bread and milk to come back to. I’ve got used to having Bob around the place and he curls up on my lap, being petted for thirty minutes before I leave. The bedding is washed and spread across Camille's airer. I’ve done nothing about the scratched door though. That's Bob's lookout.

  When I return home, my mother gives me a huge hug. Even though it's only four days since I last saw her.

  'Drop your stuff there and come through to the lounge. I'll give you a hand with it later.' She smiles.

  'It's all done, Mum. I kept up with my laundry,' I tell her.

  'You did? Oh. Well, come and sit down,' she says.

  I sit beside her on the sofa.

  'Tyler, I meant well at the time but I was a little heavy-handed about how I gave you three months to leave what's been your home all of your life. Anyway, I'm sorry and I'm retracting the eviction notice. You can stay longer if you like? As long as you carry on with your chores and don’t go back to being a lazy git.'

  I put my hand over my mum’s. 'Thanks, Mum, but you did the right thing. Your wake-up call was needed. I'm ready to move out. I realise that now. All I need is to find somewhere.'

  'Well, there's no immediate rush. You don’t have to be out by the twenty-fifth.'


  'Thanks, Mum. I'm looking at a couple of properties next week so I don't think I'll be too much longer, but, at least, that means I won’t make a rash decision now. I can make sure I choose the right property.’

  ‘Tyler, I know I’m always going on about Camille’s business, but I’m proud of you too, you know? Only I know you can do better than loafing about at home.’

  ‘Well, up until the last minute I was trying to stay at home.'

  She curls her feet up on the sofa. 'So what changed your mind?'

  'Being at Camille's. Lindsay leaving. Seeing life move on. Why the change of heart, Mum, anyway? I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me?’

  'This week on our own. Me and your Dad. It was so strange, so quiet without you stomping about demanding things. It’s going to take some getting used to.'

  'Like you said, it’s the next part of our lives mum. You need to make the most of it. Camille and Dylan seem pretty tight.’ I nudge her with my elbow. ‘Might not be long before grand-kiddies are on their way.'

  'You reckon?' Mum looks up at me, a hopeful glint in her eye.

  'Hope so. You'll be a fantastic grandma.'

  'I will, won't I?'

  She leans over and gives me a massive hug. Then she sits back and hits me. A great swipe across the ear.

  'Ow. What was that for?'

  'Did you really let that girl go? Are you completely blind to what was going on around you? I said I wouldn't interfere but Tyler Turner you need a bloody good kick up the arse.'

  I rub my still stinging ear. 'What are you talking about?'

  'Lindsay.'

  'We're just friends.'

  'Really? Tell me that’s all she is to you Tyler and I’ll say nothing further.'

  I pause, 'Well…'

  'For God's sake. You and your father. Dumb and Dumber.'

  'She doesn't like me, not in that way.'

  'Tyler. I hung around your father for six weeks and that was enough. Now, Lindsay, I don't know when her feelings for you changed, but she's been around nine years. When you brought her to our house for pizza, she watched you like I used to watch your dad. That hope. That you might be finally noticing her. My guess would be that her getting zilch back from you made her take that job opportunity. A fresh start for her. Away from you.'