Chapter Eight
I returned home to an empty flat that evening. Mum had gone back to our old town for a meal with friends. I opened a tin of soup and was just eating it cold, straight from the can, when my phone rang. The call was from Miss Silky’s fiancé’s phone.
Trembling, I pressed the answer button and said, “Hello.”
“Hiya beautiful!” said Nutty’s voice. “Wassup?”
“Hi!” I said, trying to disguise the butterflies in my stomach. “I’m just eating soup.”
“I’ll keep it brief then,” he said. “What’s this about the malicious text?”
“Oh,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. “I went to a press night party at Dudley’s last night. Then I went onto another party and this weird girl asked to borrow my phone and she sent a nasty text saying I was dumping you.” I gulped hard. I wasn’t the best liar. “Anyway, I’ve deleted it.”
“Bitch!” Nutty said angrily. “Best programme me into your phone as someone else. Give me a female name - that’ll fool ‘em. Not that you should be lending your phone to strangers.”
I laughed nervously, still not sure I sounded convincing. “What shall I call you?”
“Call me Hyacinth!” he said. I could hear people laughing in the background.
“Hyacinth it is then!”
“Hey!” he added. “Say hi to Miss Silky.”
My breathing became heavy as he passed the phone to the sex goddess.
“Hi Yazmin!” came Miss Silky’s famously smooth voice. “And what are you up to this evening?”
“Eating soup,” I replied.
She laughed loudly. “Sounds like you lead a very interesting life!” She sounded drunk.
“Yeah,” I answered, too nervous to think of anything clever.
“Look forward to meeting you soon! Say hi to Jamie.”
She passed the phone to her fiancé Jamie, who passed it to some Jamaican bloke, who passed it to some awful giggly girl, who passed it to some creepy sounding chap. The phone was passed around to something like half a dozen drunkards, all wanting to say hello. I didn’t have much to say to any of them, but I guess it didn’t matter as they sounded so drunk they probably wouldn’t remember anyway.
Then, at last, the phone was passed back to Nutty. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your soup. Speak tomorrow.”
“Have you finished making the video?” I asked.
“Yeah darling - you’ll love it.”
“Can’t wait!”
“Love you!” Nutty said.
I gasped. Did Nutty Bonkers just say he loved me? I stayed silent.
“You still there Yaz?”
“What did you say?” I whispered.
“I said I love you.”
“Do you mean me?”
“Well, I’m not talking to the invisible fucking man, am I?” He laughed and all his drunken friends joined in.
“Wow!” I breathed nervously. “Love you too.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Well, have a good evening.”
“You too, gorgeous girl. Goodnight.”
“Night sweetheart.”
I jumped to my feet fast as a rocket shouting, “Nutty Bonkers loves me!” As I did so, I knocked over the can I was eating from and spicy parsnip soup splattered all over the white tiles above the kitchen bar. It looked just like someone had projectile vomited yellow puke on them. There were splashes on my new lilac top too. I cleaned up the mess then swiftly undressed and threw my clothes into the washing machine before spending the evening watching one of my favourite old movies - Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors.
The next day felt very strange. Nutty Bonkers had told me he loved me, so I should have been floating on cloud nine. Instead, my stomach was knotted with apprehension. It was the day Nutty was due to travel home from Manchester. He’d probably arrive at the flat to find his replacement sim and read the goodbye text message I’d sent him. I think I’d done a reasonably good job of covering up the fact I wrote it myself, but Nutty wasn’t daft and I was frightened something might go wrong.
The day was also full of incidents - the ticket printer kept jamming, the office kettle stopped working, and the computers went down for half an hour during which time a slate blew off a roof, narrowly missing Kalisha as she made her way back from The Sesame Bap carrying coffees for everyone.
Within five minutes of arriving home, Nutty called. He’d obviously received his replacement sim card. My stomach lurched. I couldn’t bring myself to answer the call in case he’d seen the message and didn’t believe my story.
“Aren’t you going to answer that phone?” Mum called from the kitchen.
“Nah,” I said. “It’s a marketing call - I can tell by the number.”
“Fair enough sweetie.”
I put my phone on silent. Then it vibrated. Nutty had left a message. I listened nervously.
“Hiya Yaz!” He sounded very upbeat. “Didn’t go for the replacement sim in the end. Got myself a brand new Samsung on contract - my number’s just been transferred! Don’t forget the video shoot tomorrow. Phone me when you can. Love you!”
I breathed a sigh of relief and phoned him straight back. We chatted for ages and he made no mention of the text.
Minutes after I put the phone down, I received a text from Suki: Cliff and I on date at the Royal Hotel - it’s beautiful here. Ordered designer quinoa burger with sides. Cliff is gorgeous. I think I’ve found my future husband.
I laughed to myself. Future husband? She hadn’t known the lad two seconds. And what the heck was a designer quinoa burger? Most probably exactly the same as an ordinary quinoa burger with the word designer added in order to treble the price.
I reluctantly replied to her text with: Good luck! Have a fab time.
I shouldn’t have encouraged her. She then sent another text describing the hotel and what Cliff was wearing, including his shoes.
I replied with: Concentrate on your date if you want to see him again. It can’t look good sat there texting your friends. My battery is low anyway, and I’m still looking for my charger. Enjoy your date.
I’m concentrating on him too! Suki replied.
Without hesitating, I texted Nutty saying I was turning my phone off due to Suki’s annoying texts and gave him Mum’s number in case he needed to contact me. I switched the phone off and enjoyed a microwave meal. Then went to bed and had a nightmare in which Cliff pranked my mum with the hot pepper chewing gum and she had a severe allergic reaction and died. I really believed she was dead in the dream. It was horrible.