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‘Get out, right now,’ I tell him. ‘Of my bed, of my house. Of Kent too, ideally.’
I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry in my life. I was angry when he left me, that’s for certain, but I’m absolutely furious that he’s back.
‘Our house,’ he tells me. ‘Our bed.’
‘The bed is three months old, you clown,’ I point out. ‘And seeing as though you didn’t put a penny into this place, and have never paid the mortgage, you can forget about this being our house.’
I don’t know why I’m arguing with a drunk person. Also, he’s right, this is technically our house. I feel so stupid now but back when we bought the place, when we were a couple talking about marriage and babies, and even though I was the one with the deposit money, we applied for the mortgage as a couple, in joint names. It didn’t occur to me to make a plan for what would happen to the house if Declan were to up and leave me one day. No one makes a plan to break up, do they? It would have been all the same if we had got married, I wouldn’t have thought to make him sign a pre-nup, those things are for the mega rich, with all their assets, not me and my fixer-upper. So, yes, it is technically his house, even if he didn’t put any money in, and even if he did bail on me right as all the major work started a year ago. The place can’t even resemble what it looked like the last time he was here.
‘I’ll throw him out, don’t worry,’ Dad tells me.
‘It’s okay,’ I insist. ‘Let him sleep it off. I’ll sleep in Jess’s room.’
‘Will you and Jess fit in that bed?’ Mum asks.
Declan starts snoring. I want to murder him.
‘Yeah, we’ll be fine, it’s just for tonight,’ I reply. Now doesn’t seem like the time to say she isn’t in there, and I would never throw my sister under the bus, so I don’t mention that I’m pretty sure she’s next door shagging the neighbour. I can’t imagine my parents appreciating that information, or Jess appreciating me telling them it.
‘We’ll kick him out tomorrow, when he’s sober,’ I tell them. ‘And after he’s cleaned this room.’
‘Well, I’m awake now,’ Mum announces. ‘Cuppa tea?’
‘I’d love a cuppa,’ Dad replies. ‘I’ll need to calm down, before I can sleep again.’
‘Billie?’
I’m absolutely shattered. I really need to sleep. Although Mum and Dad don’t know that I’ve just got in, given that I’d already ditched my night out clothes before they came running in through the door.
‘How come you’ve only just realised he’s in your bed?’ Mum asks curiously as we head for the hallway.
‘Wait, have you just got in?’ Dad asks, the pieces of the puzzle finally clicking together. ‘Out all night, again?’
‘It’s not even four,’ I protest. ‘And, once again, I’m in my thirties. I’m a grown, mature woman.’
‘A grown mature woman who stays out until four, a grown mature woman who is covered in garlic mayo, a grown mature woman who is so drunk she got into bed with her ex-boyfriend without knowing he was there,’ Dad rants to himself as he walks off.
‘Listen, while you’re having all your sneaky conversations with Dad, can you ask him to lay off me, please?’ I ask Mum once we’re alone. ‘He’s, like, missed the cut-off for entry to Dad of the Year by, like, decades.’
I realise I don’t sound very mature right now. And I do sound a bit drunk, but I’ve only been mildly tipsy all night. And why am I justifying myself? I am a grown woman.
A grown woman with her ex in her bed, though. I’ll have to figure out what I’m going to do about that tomorrow.
19
I open my eyes to find Jess staring down at me, like an excitable kid on Christmas morning, or a dog letting you know that it’s done a wee on the carpet while you were sleeping.
‘Someone was drunk last night,’ she sings as she looms over me. ‘So drunk that they got in the wrong bed.’
‘Well, I did wonder about how you were finding the stomach to sleep with a pig like Kenny,’ I say, pushing myself up onto my elbows. ‘Great to know booze is the answer.’
‘Erm, Kenny isn’t a pig, he’s a gent,’ she informs me.
‘He’s someone who capitalises on daddy issues,’ I tell her. ‘And we’ve got those in abundance.’
Jess just rolls her eyes.
‘You trust me, don’t you?’ I say seriously.
