***
Sophie woke up. Matthew was sprawled on the timber floor beside the couch. She jolted, lifting her body into an upright position. Her head spun round like she’d been riding a carousel for hours. Nausea rippled through her body. Her frenzied hands patted down her body like an airport security guard.
T-shirt, on. Jeans, on. She was fully clothed. Matthew’s shirt rode up showing his flat stomach, but despite the absence of his shoes and socks, he was also completely dressed.
She closed her eyes briefly, she was lucky this time; in the past she'd been known to make a drunken move. She rolled her eyes as images flashed through her mind. They’d flirted outrageously, she knew that.
Matthew slept on the floor. There was no one else in the room, just Matthew groaning. Sophie ran her hands through her hair, imagining the state it must be in, and like a burglar she quietly lifted herself up from the couch. Her stomach revolted at the movement.
She crept upstairs and past the bathroom, seeing Carol leaning over the sink, removing her makeup from the night before. Sunlight streamed into the bathroom: That was not a good sign. In November, it was always dark in London in the morning. Sophie’s throat felt like she’d swallowed ten razor blades. She could see Carol’s wide grin, from ear to ear.
“Do you know what time it is? I’m going to be so late for work.”
“Eight I think?”
“Shit. Oh my God, my dad’s coming round here. Remember, he's lost his job and I was going to explain to him how I’d moved out.”
“Sure, sure. No worries. I’ve got rehearsal all day anyway. I won’t be around.”
“What happened last night? I have the strangest memories,” Sophie said.
Carol’s face shone, radiating happiness. She threw a dirty cotton ball into the sink and grabbed Sophie by the hands. Carol suddenly swung Sophie around the bathroom. Wisps of hair floated around Carol’s forehead, her hair tumbling around her shoulders.
“I think I’m in love,” Carol said.
Sophie stopped, clutching her stomach. “What?” The spinning wasn't helping her hangover.
“Josh… he’s so amazing,” Carol said. “He left a few hours ago. Matthew was passed out… we couldn’t wake either of you.”
“I'm really happy for you.” As Sophie spoke Carol beamed. “Carol… Can you tell me what else happened?” She paused. “Did I do anything with Matthew? I can’t remember a thing.”
“Well,” Carol started. “He saved you from yourself. You were insistent on drinking and dialling, but he stopped you.”
A slight memory flicked in Sophie's mind. “Oh God, that’s right. Why would he do that for me?”
“So you didn’t come across as a complete desperado, calling your ex in the middle of the night. So you could do it when you were sober.”
“Oh. That was nice.”
“Yes, it was nice of him. But,” Carol continued, “you forced him to ring Mickey, and she’s arranging for you to get your things on Saturday.”
“No, no….” Sophie’s chest constricted. “If I do that, it’s really over. Really and truly over. Not temporary.”
Carol sighed. “Derek’s seeing someone else, Soph. He cheated on you and he hasn’t even tried to apologise to you about it. Besides, Matthew’s agreed to help you. He insisted, offering to help you move from your old apartment. He’ll be a hunk of a mover and you’re both going to my show. I can’t figure out whether it’s a date or just as friends. How did that even get into the bargain?”
“I have no idea. What the hell am I going to do? I can’t move my stuff.”
“You need to. Even if Matthew’s just a friend, he’ll help you get your things. You need to move on.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“Just run with it. Go with the flow. Matthew’s a nice guy. Harmless – and hot.”
Chapter 11