When I get into work the office is already buzzing, but thankfully my fake dentist appointment covers my late arrival. Still, Sophia looks at her watch as I pass, and glares just to remind me that I’m permanently on thin ice – no one is safe here. I take a seat and begin trawling through the files that have magically appeared on my desk overnight. Half of this stuff isn’t even in my remit, but I plough through because I’d quite like at least one glowing reference to give to a new employer that doesn’t say ‘does a decent “ho-ho-ho”’.
By 7pm, I feel like I’ve stayed long enough to cover my early appointment and any other sins Sophia feels I might have committed. I’ve promised Sarah and Matt that I’ll babysit tonight, so that gives me an hour to get to her place. Just as I’m leaving, I get a text.
Hey babe, really was great to see you again. Maybe we can do drinks soon? I miss yaAnge xoxo
I’ve had enough of this woman. We broke up months ago and she is still fucking haunting me. Screw this.
Fuck you and your sad face emojis and your fucking xoxo bullshit. I’m done.
I block her number, pick up my things and head home. I should have done this months ago.
‘Did it feel good? Telling her to eff off?’ Matt asks while we wait for Sarah to finish helping Alfie get ready for bed.
‘It did. . . for about a minute. Now I wish I’d just ignored her. She revels in the drama.’
‘Who revels in the drama?’ Sarah asks, joining us in her living room.
‘Angela,’ Matt informs her. ‘Our boy here finally blocked her. Told her to bugger off.’
‘Good for you,’ she replies, ‘clean slate and all that.’
I nod. ‘Hopefully. . .’
Matt slaps me on the back. ‘It’s hard to move forward when you’re dragging the past behind you.’
Sarah frowns. ‘OK, Plato. . . what does that mean?’
‘I’ll explain in the car, we need to get a move on.’
I say goodbye then pop in to see Alfie, who’s already out cold at eight thirty. Being careful not to wake him, I tiptoe back out and grab a Coke from the fridge, feeling somewhat guilty that I’m glad he’s asleep, but fuck it, I’m tired too. I settle down on the couch and flick through the TV channels, determined to keep my eyes open.
Sarah and Matt arrive back from their date earlier than expected to find me completely invested in the latest episode ofKilling Eve.
‘Hey,’ I say as they walk into the living room. ‘She just killed that guy from The Mighty Boosh; I am shook! Everything alright? It’s not even ten yet.’
‘Sarah’s not feeling very well,’ Matt informs me, rubbing her back. ‘Thought it best we call it a night.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ she replies. ‘Probably just a bug. Was Alfie OK?’
‘Yeah,’ I reply, ‘good as gold. Can I get you anything before I go?’
‘I can stay if you want,’ Matt adds. ‘I don’t mind.’
She shakes her very pale head. ‘No, but thanks. You two get off. I don’t want to infect you if I have picked something nasty up. I just need to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.’
We both say goodnight and head outside where the taxi is waiting.
‘Fancy a drink?’ Matt asks as we climb in. ‘Or are you planning on binge-watching the entireKilling Evebox set tonight?’
‘I can do both,’ I reply, grinning. ‘I’m a man of many useless talents.’
I haven’t been in Bar Black since Greta’s engagement party last year, but now that I’m working again, I can safely order a beer without checking my bank balance first.
We order drinks then find the last available table near the back of the room. It looks like there’s a hen party here or some kind of cackling women’s support group. Either way, they’re operating at full volume.
‘I’m starving,’ Matt says, ‘I’m totally getting chips on the way home.’
‘Shame you had to cancel dinner,’ I reply, swigging back my beer. ‘She did look sick, mind you.’
