The Faking Game, page 20
My brain goes into overdrive, wondering what I should say, how I should fill the silence – if I should fill the silence. Do I mention Jay, or do I just make normal conversation? God, I never thought things would be like this between us.
‘Did you have fun hanging out with Jay?’ Millsy asks, taking the lead, his voice lacking any discernible tone, but I can sense his underlying apprehension.
I take a deep but subtle breath.
‘It wasn’t a big deal,’ I start, trying to find the right balance between casual indifference and honest explanation. ‘Everyone else was busy, or out, and I was feeling a bit lonely. You’ve been so busy lately, and if we’re being honest, we’re totally avoiding one another. Jay was there playing pool on his own so, I don’t know, it was just something to do.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he says with a sigh. ‘I know it’s a difficult situation, and an unusual one, and I don’t want to avoid you. Look how much fun we had this evening. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Cara. I really, really hope we can be friends.’
I try to smile.
‘We did have fun, and being friends is better than nothing,’ I agree. ‘But I can’t promise that I won’t be jealous, seeing you move on. So… there’s that.’
‘You don’t think I’m jealous?’ he replies, turning to face me. ‘It drives me crazy seeing you talking to other guys, the thought of you dating someone else… I’m trying to tough through it, but it hurts.’
I hold my breath for a second or two. Is he regretting our break-up? Has he – like me – been hoping that it wouldn’t stick, that we would snap back together the second we were in the same country again?
But then the dreaded ‘but’ enters the conversation.
‘But we just need to be mature about it all,’ he adds practicality.
My heart, which had been slowly rising up into my throat, drops into the depths of my stomach again.
I suppose I could leave it, let it go, keep on with the plan… or I could say something, but doesn’t saying something always have the potential to make things so much worse?
‘I’m just thinking, if you’re feeling as jealous as you say… maybe you don’t want this break-up as much as you thought? Maybe neither of us wants it as much as we thought,’ I dare to say.
Millsy smiles softly.
‘Then I suppose we just need to be mature about that too,’ he suggests. ‘We just need to take things slow, make sure we don’t rush anything, and figure out what it really is that we want before it’s too late.’
It takes everything I have to keep a lid on my grin, instead allowing myself a more muted – but definitely happy – smile.
‘Taking it slow sounds good to me,’ I reply, even though I want nothing more than to whip the covers off him and jump on top of him. ‘Why don’t we do something fun tomorrow?’
I hold my breath again, in anticipation of his reply, but he answers right away.
‘I was actually planning to catch the train to Aviemore tomorrow,’ he says. ‘The journey is beautiful, only about an hour, and then there’s this charming old-fashioned cinema that’s showing “It’s a Wonderful Life”, which I’m pretty sure is your favourite Christmas movie too. It would be great if you came along.’
He smiles. He knows full well that it’s my favourite Christmas movie, we watch it every year without fail (I thought this year was going to be the first one where we didn’t and I’ve been feeling really crappy about it, like the movie might be ruined for me forever because of the sad memories newly associated with it).
‘I would absolutely love that,’ I reply, my heart skipping a beat.
‘Great,’ he replies. ‘Well, I told Tally to be ready for eleven – I hope that’s not too early?’
Oh. Tally’s coming – of course she is.
My smile must falter momentarily but Millsy doesn’t notice. I slap on my brave face just in time.
‘I can do eleven,’ I reply. ‘I can’t wait.’
Deep down (although probably not that deep down, I’m no actress) I wish it could be just the two of us, no distractions, no third wheels. I just need to remind myself that this is progress, a step towards getting our relationship back on track, and that Millsy mentioned us being mature – the mature thing to do is embrace Tally’s presence, so that’s what I’ll do.
I sink down into the bed, making myself comfortable.
‘Light off?’ Millsy says.
‘Yeah, go for it,’ I reply. ‘I’d best get to sleep, if I’m up early.’
‘I love that you think eleven is early too,’ he replies – I can hear his smile. Then the light goes off. ‘Sweet dreams.’
‘Yeah, night night,’ I reply.
I feel Millsy get comfortable until eventually everything is calm. There’s no light, no noise, no movement.
Is this it? Is this how we get back together? I try to replay the conversation we just had in my head, but I’ve forgotten almost every word of it – apart from the plan for tomorrow. It’s not a date, is it, if Tally is there? But if I’m there, it’s not a date for her either. I just wish there was some sort of way to tell, some sign that I’m not letting my brain run away with me.
Millsy’s hand finds mine under the covers and holds it lightly.
That’s all the sign I need.
26
I practically vibrate with anticipation as we approach Pitlochry station – to be honest, I’ve been giddy since last night, when Millsy suggested a scenic train journey to Aviemore. I’m looking forward to the journey, to the cinema, to everything. Although, if we’re being real for a moment, we could be going anywhere, to do anything, it’s the fact that Millsy invited me that has me all excited. That and the conversation we had last night. It just feels like, if we can just get this right, we can be perfect again. The only problem, the only hiccup, the thing that makes all of this so much harder is the fact that Tally is coming too. Imagine how romantic it would be, just the two of us. And the problem isn’t just that three’s a crowd, it’s that somehow it’s always me who feels like the third wheel.
As we head towards the platforms, Tally stops in her tracks.
‘Is there a restroom?’ she asks. ‘Do we have time?’
‘They’re over there,’ I tell her. ‘I can show you, I might grab a quick drink.’
‘I’ll see you on the platform,’ Millsy calls after us. ‘But be quick, we don’t have long.’
I pop into the little shop and grab myself a bottle of water and a packet of sweets for the trip – because I am a child – and then head back out.
It’s only as I walk across the bridge that I spot Tally, standing on the wrong platform, looking around for Millsy. And then right on cue, our train pulls in on the other one. I freeze on the spot for a split second. If I go, right now, then Millsy and I can get on the train and go alone together. My God, today would be so much better if it was just the two of us, this could be exactly what we need, our perfect moment, our chance to fix everything. I have to do it, I have to do what’s right for me, so I duck as low as I can and run across the bridge, down the steps, and onto the train.
Millsy must already be onboard because he isn’t on the platform, so I walk along the train until I spot him. There he is, with the conductor, obviously trying to get him to hold the door, I give him a whistle from the other end of the carriage and then a wave to let him know I’m on board. It looks like he thanks the conductor before heading towards me. Then, sure enough, the doors beep, then close, and it’s just us.
His face drops when he realises I’m on my own.
‘Where’s Tally?’ he asks.
‘I… I thought she was with you?’ I lie. ‘She wasn’t there when I came out of the shop.’
‘Shit,’ he says. ‘Let’s sit down and I’ll call her. Perhaps she’s in a different carriage.’
‘Yeah, probably,’ I say as the guilt creeps in.
‘Tally,’ he says into his phone. ‘Where are you?… I didn’t see you on the platform… oh, shit, Tally, that’s the wrong platform… yeah, that one goes the other way… you could get the next train?… yeah, I suppose you would… oh, really?… okay, I’ll text you his number… so sorry, Tally.’
My heart is in my mouth as I listen to half the conversation.
‘Well, it seems like she went to the wrong platform,’ Millsy says. ‘She’s missed the train.’
‘Oh, no,’ I reply. ‘Is she going to get the next one?’
Please say no.
‘No,’ he says. ‘She says there’s no point, she’ll miss the movie. She asked me to send her my dad’s number so he can come back and get her, take get back to the house.’
‘It’s a good job I came,’ I tell him. ‘Or you’d be going on your own.’
‘Yeah, I guess,’ he says with a half-hearted laugh. ‘Okay, let’s try and focus on the positives.’
‘Yes,’ I say with a clap of my hands. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘Well, we have “It’s a Wonderful Life” at the old cinema,’ he starts excitedly. ‘Then there are loads of scenic places to take a walk, gorgeous places to eat and drink, loads of amazing shops – I know you love a giftshop. I love that you love a giftshop.’
I really do love a giftshop. And I love that he loves I love a giftshop too – if that makes sense.
‘Wow, I can’t wait,’ I reply. ‘Sweet?’
‘And I love that you always have sweets for a journey,’ he says through a laugh. ‘Thank you. What kind are they?’
‘Erm…’ I look down at the box and laugh awkwardly. ‘Nessie Poop.’
I’m amazed at my own ability to keep a straight face as I say this.
‘Nessie Poop?’ he repeats back to me. ‘They were all out of Wine Gums?’
I laugh.
‘I mean, I’m sure they’re delicious,’ I reply. ‘They’re jellybeans. Irn Bru flavour, I think.’
‘Okay, now I know you’re having me on,’ he cackles.
‘Or maybe they’re cola but, here, try them,’ I insist.
‘Thanks,’ he replies, that delicious smile of his turned up to full, his dimples so deep. God, I want to kiss them.
We settle into our seats, the train chugging along through the picturesque Scottish countryside. I glance at Millsy, his eyes alight with excitement for the day ahead of us. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have ditched Tally like that, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t seem like it was worth it. Today is going to be amazing, I can tell.
27
I have spent weeks – if not months – thinking that this Christmas was going to be shit. It’s a funny old thing, but we all put so much pressure on ourselves to make Christmas perfect. We shop as though we’re preparing for war, we go all out on presents, we make all these plans – all just for one main day, and a couple of others around it. I know, it’s a special time, and it’s only once a year, but there have been Christmases before, and there will be Christmases again, and there’s really no need to be crying in a Tesco Express five minutes before closing on Christmas Eve because you forgot one of the ingredients for your controversial Christmas puddings, and they don’t have it. I suppose what I’m saying is that we should all try not to sweat the small stuff, and to try to have a good time regardless, but then again, perhaps I have a unique clarity, seeing as though I thought my Christmas was going to be rubbish because of the complete breakdown of my relationship, and the fact that I was going to have to fake that I was okay through the whole day.
Christmas Eve is here and, dare I say it, I’m starting to feel like things aren’t so bad. In fact, I’m really looking forward to it. There’s a glimmer of hope in the air, and more than a whisper of possibility that things between me and Millsy might be back on track. I’m going to stop worrying about it so much and just embrace the magic of the season, and our plans for this evening.
We’re all currently on a coach, the whole gang, and I’m over the moon to be sitting with Millsy, our conversations nothing but laughter and excitement. The coach plods along slowly, taking us on the short journey from Pitlochry town to the magical Faskally Forest, which has – for one night only – been transformed into a light and sound show, with a variety of light installations, all creatively utilising the scenery of the forest, and there’s even a spot partway through where you can drink mulled wine, hot chocolate, and eat all sorts of delicious warming treats from hot dogs to toasted marshmallows. It’s supposed to be a really magical, beautiful experience and I can’t wait.
‘Why did you let me eat a third mince pie, right before we left?’ Millsy asks me, rubbing his stomach for effect.
‘When have I ever been able to stop you from eating anything?’ I reply with a laugh. ‘The man who eats biscuits while his dinner is cooking.’
‘Some might say you’re at your hungriest, right before you eat your dinner,’ he muses.
‘And others might say that’s why you’re cooking the dinner in the first place,’ I tease.
He playfully narrows his eyes at me.
‘Hmm,’ he says. ‘I’m going to have to think carefully about a rebuttal to that one.’
I can’t help but grin at his playful banter. Millsy has always had that effect on me, the ability to make me laugh, a seamless back and forth between us always coming so naturally. I clutch my black earmuffs, ready to embrace the festive spirit like a kid on a sugar rush – and Millsy probably is on a sugar rush, so I’d imagine he feels similar.
I am on top of the world after our trip to Aviemore earlier today. Honestly it was, just, perfection. I have zero regrets about the unfortunate series of events that led to it being just the two of us because we had the best time. We walked, we shopped – we even held hands! We ate amazing food and the movie – wow. I’ve seen ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ so many times, but this time something was different, it struck a chord with me. I know, it sounds corny, but these last couple of months have shown me what life would be like without Millsy as my boyfriend, my partner in everything, my forever plus one, and I don’t like it. I hate it. I want my old life back, whatever it takes, I’ll make it work. But now I’m certain and it feels amazing. I want us back tother again. Life just isn’t the same without him.
The coach finally comes to a halt and we all filter off. The illuminated path that lies ahead shows us which way to go, beckoning us deeper into the heart of the forest. I know it sounds corny, but I feel like I’m in a fairy tale right now, the magic of the lights, the ambient music, the sparkly little noises that seem to come from nowhere. Yesterday was amazing, perhaps tonight can be better?
Ahead of us couples walk hand in hand, families laugh together, marvelling at the sights, and the atmosphere nothing short of heart-warming.
As we head up the path, the forest welcomes us with a symphony of twinkling lights. I’m buzzing with excitement, my smile stretching from ear to ear. This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for, Christmas is here and I’m spending it with Millsy.
My joy is short-lived as I hear a familiar voice calling my name from behind me.
‘Cara?’ Tally says. ‘Cara, can I borrow you for a sec?’
Millsy and Oliver are chatting, so I hang back for a minute. Tally approaches with a beaming smile plastered on her face but, I don’t know, I can just sense something.
‘While we’ve got a moment away from the others, I thought you might like to explain why you ditched me at the train station yesterday?’ she confronts me, still with a smile. ‘What was the plan, try to get Millsy alone without me? And then what? Just leave me standing there alone without a second thought?’
Tally’s tone is laced with accusation, and I feel a flicker of something inside me: a combination of guilt (because it wasn’t a great thing to do) and anger (because who does she think she is?).
I shake my head.
‘That’s not what happened,’ I insist, my voice purposefully dripping with innocence. ‘I just assumed you were already on the train.’
‘Cut the shit, Cara,’ she replies, her smile finally falling, suddenly seeming like the must un-Tally-like version of Tally I’ve encountered so far. ‘I saw you, up on the bridge. I saw you look at me and then dash off in the other direction. The train had left, before I could catch you up. And don’t think I don’t see the way you look at Joey, all doe-eyed, feeling sorry for yourself because you let go of one of the best guys going.’
Oh, boy, I can feel my blood boiling.
‘You need to mind your own business,’ I tell her. ‘This is nothing to do with you.’
Tally’s eyes narrow as she smirks.
‘Oh, come on, Cara,’ she blurts. ‘You know how much time Joey and I have been spending together – we’ve been inseparable for months. We have a closeness, more than you think. Maybe you should’ve paid closer attention, thought of him more.’
‘Just spit it out,’ I reply, not wanting to play games. ‘What is it you want to tell me, that you and Millsy are a thing?’
Tally smirks smugly and rolls her eyes.
‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’ she suggests. ‘It’s not my place to say.’
But her tone very much is saying it, without a doubt, she is trying to tell me that she and Millsy are a thing.
‘So why don’t you just back off, huh?’ she replies. ‘I’m not a part of your silly games and your childish drama.’
She walks off, leaving me with her revelation and my thoughts. My heart sinks as her words echo in my mind. I gave Millsy the chance to be honest with me, and I suppose he did seem a bit rattled by the question, I guess now I know why. I really, really wanted us to get through this, but I can’t overlook a lie like that.
With a heavy heart, I watch as Tally walks away, and then make my own way into the forest, alone, to try to get my head around stuff.
The trees, adorned with shimmering lights in every hue, stand tall all around me, casting a warm glow on the forest floor. The changing lights almost make the trees look as if they’re dancing – even the trees are having more fun than I am.
