Just Date and See, page 16
Luckily, when I was helping Mum clear out her house, I happened upon the box of boardgames and I asked if I could bring them to my house, in case we wanted to play one together over Christmas, or for me to play with my friends when they’re back from their skiing holiday.
Anyway, in the big box, sure enough, is the copy of A Matter of Morals, the one from the night in question. Unfortunately, as Jess and I were going through the cards, rigging the deck so that the questions that came out would be ones that set Mum and Dad at odds, we realised that a lot of them are not only on controversial topics, but they’re very much stuck in the seventies, with seriously backward ideas, and some truly despicable questions. By the time we removed all the problematic cards, the deck was significantly shorter, but we’ve got everything we need, to recreate that night.
‘Wow, something smells nice,’ Mum says as she enters the room.
Jess is just putting the finishing touches on the table, while I am plating up the last of the food ready to serve.
‘You girls have been so vague about dinner tonight, telling me to stay upstairs until it was ready – what are you up to?’
‘I was just going to say the same thing,’ Dad asks as he appears next to her, right on time. ‘Katie, wow, you look amazing.’
We told them both to dress up for dinner – not to make them look as attractive as possible to one another, which seems to be working in my mum’s case unfortunately, but to accurately recreate the Saturday Night Club, when everyone would come over dressed in their best. Even Jess and I have made an effort, to try to make this evening as legitimate as possible.
‘We thought it would be nice for us all to have dinner together,’ Jess says. She’s lying but, wow, she’s really selling it.
‘And then we thought we could play some games together,’ I add. ‘Maybe open a few bottles of wine, really get into the festive spirit.’
I do feel slightly bad, because both Mum and Dad seem to be delighted at the idea of us all sitting down together, like we’re one big happy family.
‘The food smells amazing, girls,’ Dad says as he approaches the table. ‘What are we having?’
With the food served up and the wine flowing, Jess and I join in with the small talk, going through the motions of eating dinner, until it’s time to play the game.
It might actually, dare I say it, be sort of nice, were it not for the fact that we simply cannot allow Mum and Dad to get close again, and just having the plan hanging in the balance is making me feel nervous, like I’m standing in the wings, waiting to go up on stage and give a speech. I laugh to myself, when I remember what Jess said to me earlier, about how the best way to tackle not feeling confident in front of people is to imagine them naked, because she clearly didn’t properly consider the fact that, with the people in question being my parents, that is a far from ideal solution.
With dinner all done, and at least a couple of glasses of wine in each of us, it’s time to pull the pin out of the grenade.
‘We were looking through the old games, from when we emptied the house last night, and we found this one,’ I say as I set A Matter of Morals down on the table in front of us. ‘And we remembered that you never used to let us play it as kids, so we’d love to give it a go now that we’re grown-ups.’
I do see the irony in me describing Jess and myself as grown-ups when we’re clearly playing a very immature game tonight – a game inspired by a movie we watched when we were kids, no less.
‘Oh, I’m not sure that’s appropriate,’ Mum says, her eyes wide with horror simply laying eyes on the box. The sight of it alone is enough to freak her out. ‘This game was famous for ending marriages, back in the day.’
‘Good thing none of us are married to each other then,’ I point out with a smile.
‘Don’t worry, we were looking through it earlier, and we took out the dodgy questions,’ Jess says. ‘Your generation is messed up, by the way.’
‘Yeah, the really offensive cards are all out – although lots of them are still quite dated. I guess, when it comes to the questions that mention things like fax machines, we’ll just substitute things for a modern equivalent. What do you say?’
‘I suppose it could be fun,’ Dad says, looking over at Mum. ‘It might be good, playing it with the girls, if all the controversial questions are removed. Are you sure there are any cards left?’
‘There are,’ I say confidently.
The idea is that question one will set them on their way to having clearly very different opinions, Jess and I will have an easy one, to usher us swiftly through our turn, but then the next question for my mum and dad will be the one that implodes the evening, so much so we didn’t even bother setting up any more questions after that one, it will most definitely be game over after that.
‘Okay, go on then,’ Mum says. ‘What teams are we going to be on?’
‘Billie and I thought we might be on the same team,’ Jess says quickly. ‘So long as you and Dad don’t mind teaming up?’
‘Not at all,’ Dad says. ‘It will be just like old times.’
Hopefully this will be the last time.
‘Okay, let’s do it,’ I say with a nervous excitement.
I set the game up, handing out the little notebooks and pencils that come with it, so we can each write our answers down. I can’t help but notice, on my notebook, the imprint of what was previously written, the last time the game was played. As best I can tell, it says ‘fake my own death’, which is genuinely terrifying. I wonder what was on the card, to make someone say that.
‘You guys can go first,’ I instruct. ‘Dad, why don’t you read one for Mum?’
‘All right, then,’ he says as he draws a card. ‘A woman’s place is in the kitchen – agree or disagree?’
It’s a gentle-ish one to get them started, but Dad always had really traditional ideas about gender roles, whereas Mum is (rightly) the type to think that a woman can do anything that a man can if she wants to, and vice versa. I remember the two of them having a huge argument when we were younger, because Jess wanted to join a football team – one that was only for boys (obviously there wasn’t a girls’ one, it was the nineties) – but Dad didn’t think they should even mention it to the boys’ coach, because the team was only for boys and that was that.
Mum jots her answer down on her notebook. Dad writes down what he thinks Mum will say.
‘Okay, what are your answers?’ I prompt.
‘Well, obviously that’s a load of rubbish,’ Mum says. ‘I spend time in the kitchen because I want to, not because I have to. A woman’s place is wherever she wants to be.’
‘And, Dad, what did you put?’ Jess asks.
‘Exactly what your mum said,’ he replies. ‘Your mum has always been a firm believer that you girls could do whatever you wanted.’
‘Okay, but what do you think?’ I ask him, which is the point of the game, but it’s also the first step in reminding my mum and dad why they are so wrong for each other.
‘Obviously it’s in my interest for your mum to be in the kitchen as much as possible, because I do love her cooking,’ he jokes. ‘But your mum has clearly always been right. Look at the two of you, growing up, doing what you want in life, making yourselves happy. Billie, this house is amazing, and to have done it all yourself just goes to show that women and men are equal.’
I narrow my eyes at him. How can I be so mad at him for giving such a good answer? I suppose because that question wasn’t the slam-dunk we thought it was going to be.
‘Okay, my turn to read one for Billie,’ Jess says, moving on. ‘You find £1,000 in an envelope in the street. Do you keep it?’
I write down my answer. Jess writes down what she thinks I will say.
‘Obviously I wouldn’t keep it,’ I eventually say. ‘I would hand it in to the police.’
‘That’s what I though you would say,’ Jess confirms. ‘And that’s what I would do too.’
Mum laughs.
‘This game wasn’t so plain sailing when we used to play it with our friends,’ she says through a chuckle.
‘You’ve got that right,’ Dad replies, widening his eyes for effect.
‘Mum, you’re up, read a card for Dad,’ I prompt her.
I feel a lump in my throat as I swallow hard. This is the one. The question that’s going to solve everything. The game over that we need.
‘Okay, here we go,’ she starts. ‘So… would you remain friends with someone who swapped their partner of many years for someone younger, because they no longer found their partner attractive?’
I don’t know why, when we were planning this, having Mum read that question didn’t feel as harsh as it does, hearing her read it out loud. Was this a mistake?
She raises her eyebrows at Dad.
‘Go on, then, write something down,’ she instructs him. She takes her pencil and begins writing straight away, clearly knowing exactly what she’s going to say from the get-go. Jess and I exchange a look, while we wait for them to finish.
‘Okay,’ Jess says. ‘Dad?’
‘Well, I suppose I would,’ Dad says sheepishly. ‘Because I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t, seeing as I left your mum for someone else.’
My breath catches in my throat. That might be the first time I’ve heard him say it out loud. I wasn’t expecting that at all, neither was Jess.
‘And that’s what I wrote,’ Mum says simply. Then she turns back to Dad. ‘And how did that work out for you?’
Right, this is it, it’s going to kick off. I brace myself because, even though this is what we wanted to happen, it’s still not going to be pleasant to witness.
‘It was definitely a mistake,’ Dad says seriously, but then his face moves into more of a smile. ‘And ironically, somehow, now, you look even younger than you did back then. You look phenomenal, Katie. The last laugh is definitely yours.’
‘I think you’ll find that’s karma,’ Mum says through a smile. ‘But I’ll take “phenomenal” – thank you. You actually don’t look so bad either.’
‘Give over,’ Dad says, blushing slightly.
And just like that, the tension is not only dispelled but Mum and Dad seem to be low-key flirting again. No! That is not what is supposed to happen.
‘Your turn,’ Dad tells us through a smile as he tops up his wine. ‘Wow, this is fun.’
I glance over at Jess. She’s cringing. This is not how this was supposed to go.
Unsure what else to do, I pick up a card and read a question to her.
‘Would you sleep with someone who your friend or relative warned you against?’
Oh, wow, that’s topical.
‘Well…’ Jess says, holding onto the word, grimacing awkwardly. ‘I am sort of dating your neighbour, the one that you hate.’
‘Oh, Kenny seems lovely, though,’ Mum says, so I take it she already knew about the two of them. ‘Do you really hate him, Billie?’
‘I do, but wait, you’re not actually seeing him again, are you?’ I say. ‘You said you wouldn’t – I warned you off him.’
‘Jess, your sister must have good reason,’ Dad chimes in. ‘You should listen to her, if she knows the bloke is no good.’
‘Oh, God, don’t you start,’ Jess warns him, before turning back to me. ‘Obviously I only said that to shut you up. Sorry, sis, but I do really like him.’
‘Jess, are you serious?’ I say. ‘He’s not a good guy – just go upstairs and ask Declan, if you don’t believe me.’
‘Oh, yeah, because Declan is greeeeat, I can totally trust every word that he says,’ she replies sarcastically. ‘You know what, I think family game night is over. I’m going next door to see Kenny, because – as we all agreed tonight – a woman can do whatever she wants, and whoever she wants, and I make my own decisions. Thank you.’
Jess gets up from the table and walks away.
‘I, erm, I think I’m going to go lie down,’ I tell Mum and Dad.
‘Of course, don’t worry, we can clean up,’ Mum reassures me.
‘And your sister will somehow come to her senses,’ Dad chimes in. ‘She doesn’t have your head on her shoulders, you know how the world is, but she’ll work things out for herself sooner or later.’
‘Aw, Rowan, that’s a lovely thing to say about Billie,’ Mum tells him through a smile as she reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.
I head upstairs with my tail between my legs. Not just because the game backfired, and because I’ve just driven Jess further into Kenny’s arms, but because the whole point of this game was to show Mum and Dad how wrong they are together and to drive them further apart.
Somehow, I feel like I’ve only pushed them further together too. And there’s me thinking I was good at creating romance-free zones. Well, I’ve been doing an excellent job for myself, at least.
Would it be the worst thing in the world if my parents got back together? Yes. Yes, it would. I’m just going to have to come up with something else. But what? I have no idea.
23
I would say you can’t beat a bath for trying to de-stress yourself, except my long soak is finally going to have to come to an end, because someone in this house is playing music far too loudly. I can hear the humming through the bathroom door.
I grab my towel and dry off my hair lightly with it, before wrapping it around my body, pulling out the plug, and heading back into the bedroom.
It’s only once I’m standing in the en suite doorway, looking into my bedroom, that I realise where the music is coming from. It’s coming from inside my room – a room that doesn’t look like it did when I closed the door to have my bath, that’s for sure.
In a room filled with lit candles and rose petals scattered everywhere, I see Declan lying on the bed, in a pair of black boxer shorts that have seen better days, a pair of odd socks and nothing else apart from a smile. When I enter the room, he cranks up the volume on Another Level’s ‘Freak Me’ – oh, my God, he’s trying to seduce me.
‘Declan, what are you doing?’ I ask him. ‘Turn that down.’
‘I’m trying to recreate the magic from the first time we had sex,’ he tells me.
‘Well, you might have considered recreating the alleged magic from the first time you had sex with me,’ I point out. ‘Candles and Another Level weren’t what I got, I got four minutes – that felt like two minutes – after we got in from a night out. And then I watched TV while you snored next to me.’
All true, sadly.
‘Turn it down,’ I say again, purposefully lowering my voice, so that Declan will have to turn the music down, if he wants to talk.
‘Come on, you know you fancy a bit of rumpy pumpy,’ he says, thankfully reducing the music slightly, although I would rather not have heard what he just said.
‘Hard as it is to resist a man who calls it “rumpy pumpy”,’ I start sarcastically, ‘given the fact that my parents are on the other side of those walls, did you really think I would have gone for this, even if I wanted to?’
‘You didn’t mind that night in Manchester,’ he starts.
‘Once again, not me,’ I point out.
I really hope none of these mix-ups are from people he slept with behind my back while we were together but, also, I genuinely don’t care any more.
‘Billie, I’ve missed you,’ he tells me, changing course. ‘Leaving you was a mistake. Let me show you just how much I’ve missed you, and how much I’ve missed our life together.’
Declan approaches me with puckered lips.
‘You’ve missed having someone pay for everything, so you don’t have to work,’ I point out. ‘You’re here because you have nowhere else to go.’
I, unsurprisingly, don’t allow Declan to kiss me. Instead, I grab him and frogmarch him to the bedroom door. I’m about to throw him – and his corny, horny music – out when I notice Gail, down the hallway, arriving back from her work thing earlier than I was expecting. She stares at us, so I quickly pull Declan back into the bedroom. I’m grateful for small mercies – at least he had underwear on.
‘Listen, go to your room, this isn’t going to happen,’ I tell him. ‘You’re here for Christmas and that’s it.’
I open the door again. No sign of Gail, so I gesture for Declan to leave.
‘We’ll see,’ he says through a grin.
I close my door behind me. It never occurred to me to put locks on the bedroom doors because I never realised I’d be running a Christmas B&B for so many people so clearly unable to keep it in their pants for a bloody week.
I sigh as I lean back on the door. Fantastic, now I need to blow out all these candles, which is going to make the room absolutely stink, I’m so tired, there are rose petals everywhere – and the fact that he didn’t do things like this when we were together makes it all the more annoying.
I am slightly concerned about the look in his eye, when he practically threatened ‘we’ll see’ as he left the room. It makes me worry he might have more tricks up his sleeve. If we can just get through Christmas, and Declan signs the house back over to me, then hopefully all of this will be over. There is a limit to what I’m willing to do to get him out of the house, though, and it absolutely does not involve rose petals and ‘Freak Me’ while my parents are in the next rooms. Here’s hoping he backs down – or God knows what it’s going to take to get rid of him.
24
The best thing about the mornings is that, with each one that comes, this whole mess is a day closer to being over.
I open my eyes to see Jess lying in bed next to me.
‘Jess, are you awake?’ I ask.
‘Just about,’ she replies through closed eyes.
‘I didn’t even hear you come in last night,’ I tell her. ‘I must have been out like a light.’
Thank God it was Jess who got in bed with me and not Declan – although I like to think I would have noticed him being in my bed, although historically he never did make much of an impact when he was.
