Good for Nothing

Heath was dozing on the settee as I entered the lounge and just for a moment, I imagined that this would be our future. Of course, I didn’t picture our future living in Sarah’s house. I imagined Heath living with me, above the shop and us going about our everyday lives together. He wouldn’t have to do anything other than just be there. It was a wonderful daydream which was only interrupted when Heath woke himself with a loud cough; the after effect of some seriously deep snoring.

“Erm, sorry Leia,” Heath said, sounding drunk with sleep, “did I doze off?”

I just smiled; that was answer enough.

“Oh hell, I’m sorry.” Heath replied guiltily, “where are my manners?”

“You don’t need to apologise honey,” I answered, “you’re tired and you just closed your eyes momentarily. It’s nice that you feel comfortable enough to do that here. I know Sarah wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, I’d sure she’d make the most of your forty winks by grilling me about ‘us’ some more.”

“Ahh, so that’s why you were dragged in the kitchen to help?” Heath said, “You weren’t helping with dinner were you?”

“Nope; correct as always!” I answered as I placed our glasses of wine on Sarah’s rustic looking coffee table before plonking down next to him on the settee. I lifted a glass from the table and handed it to Heath and then picked up my own.

“I think we deserve this, huh?” I asked Heath, placing my glass to my lips. I hesitated before I took a sip. “Can you honestly believe what we’ve been through?”

“You know,” Heath answered, “I was just thinking the exact same thing! We may not have known eachother long but I feel attuned to you Leia; it feels like we’ve known eachother forever.”

“I feel that too, Heath. I really do.” I said, agreeing wholeheartedly. I raised my glass, gesturing a toast.

“Let’s toast to us,” I said and Heath raised his glass, “Let’s toast to being together and being strong and seeing through the shit that’s been thrown at us. We were obviously meant to be because what we’ve been through would have spilt most couples up.

“Totally,” Heath agreed. We clinked our glasses together and it felt like we were cementing our future right there in that small fleeting moment.

******

“Right then folks,” Sarah shouted from the kitchen, “dinner’s ready. The question is; are we going to be proper and eat at the table or should we just slum it like the heathens that we are and eat from our laps?”

“LAPS!” Heath and I shouted.

“Well, in that case, some and get it!” Sarah hollered.

I suddenly felt ravenous and it seemed Heath was too as we both practically barged eachother out of the way to get into the kitchen. The smell that greeted us was just amazing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smelt a Sunday dinner being cooked; that had to be when I lived at home with my folks and that felt like an eternity ago.

I could barely stop myself drooling when I saw the food laden plates that were awaiting us on the kitchen work top. Sarah must have thought she was feeding a rugby team with how much she had dished up but for the first time ever, the sheer amount of food didn’t put me off.

Sarah handed us a couple of lap trays and then our plates and ushered us back through to the lounge. She quickly followed us in, with her own.

Heath and I sat and stared at our plates and noted how bemused Sarah looked.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked, “tuck in.”

That’s all it took. We ate in almost complete silence; the only sounds being that of appreciation. I couldn’t finish all my food; I was beat. My belly felt like it would literally explode if I forced another mouthful in. I slumped back on Sarah’s settee.

“You’ve been hiding this under a bushel haven’t you?” I asked her, “I never knew you could cook like this.”

Heath literally forced his last roast potato into his mouth, looking like he might throw up at any given second (he didn’t; thank god!).

Sarah put her knife and fork down and swallowed the food she had just been chewing. She cleared her throat.

“You know what pisses me off about the majority of singletons?” Sarah asked us even though there would be no space for an answer. Heath and I shook our heads.

“They think because they’re all alone it’s easier to just throw something in the microwave and there you have it; TV dinner for one. I was that person for what? About a week and I couldn’t stand it any longer; I needed real food!” Sarah said quickly, only stopping for a breath. She took a quick sip of her wine.

“Let me tell you; not only is the shit you get in those tiny plastic trays completely tasteless, it’s also incredibly hot. It’s so hot that it feels like your mouth has melted away. Therein lays the reason why I cook everything, apart from salads, of course. I know exactly what goes in and what comes out. Is that a good enough answer for you?!”

Heath and I couldn’t hold our giggles in any longer. Sarah’s always made the most mundane of events into an epic story. That’s why I love her.

“Yes, that’ll do.” I replied between laughs.

“If you both enjoyed the food, you know you’re more than welcome to come and take advantage of my prowess in the cooking department any time, you know.”

“Are you sure that’s something you should be offering?” Heath asked, having just recovering from his bout of belly laughs.

“You like the cooking; I like the company,” Sarah replied, “just don’t get coming round every night. I’m not that desperate.”

We all laughed. Sarah got up from the table, collected our plates and cutlery and took them back into the kitchen before returning back to the lounge with a bottle of red in each hand and a cheeky smile on her face.

“I hope you weren’t thinking of leaving anytime soon?” she asked, “I think I may need a little help with these!”

******

We hadn’t planned on drinking all the red wine but Sarah had had her persuasive head on.

My head felt like it was going to cave in; it was almost as if my brain was bouncing off bone. Heath was lying next to me on the floor and it wasn’t until I’d come round a little that I realised we were still in Sarah’s lounge.

My mouth was almost completely dry and all I could taste was alcohol. I really didn’t feel good at all. If I went back to sleep I knew I’d only wake up feeling worse. I wondered if Sarah and Heath would notice if I just got up and left and went back to the comfort of my own bed. I needed some fresh air. I pushed my thoughts out of my head; of course they would notice. I wondered if Sarah would feel as horrendous as I when she awoke and if she did, would she be able to stomach cooking breakfast. I know I certainly wouldn’t have. Bearing all that in mind, I decided that I’d go out and get breakfast; that way I would get my much needed dose of fresh air but not to be as rude as to completely leave Sarah and Heath in their stupors. At least then we could all recover together.

After washing and brushing my teeth (how I didn’t throw up was beyond me!)and ruffling my hair into a slightly better state, I went through Sarah’s antique bureau (I knew that that’s where she kept her stationary). Sarah didn’t do biros, post-it-notes and scraps of paper; the contents of the bureau were all of the highest quality. I picked up an expensive looking fountain pen and a sheet of note paper and wrote.

‘Hello my fellow drunkards,

Don’t worry, I haven’t disappeared! I’ve just popped out to get us all breakfast and coffee. Sarah; I know cooking will be the last thing on your mind if you feel as shitty as I do!

Heath; be a good boy now, won’t you. I don’t want to come back to any bad reports.

I promise I won’t be too long.

L xxxxx’

******

The cold hit me and took my breath away as I opened the front door. Once the initial shock passed, I sucked in the air, feeling it sting against my teeth. I locked the door and pushed the keys through the letterbox, hoping that at least one of them would be awake enough to let me in on my return.

My mobile was almost dead and for the first time in ages, I switched it off to preserve the battery; that way I could use it to phone, or at least text, Heath to let him know when I was on my way back.

I’d only been walking a few minutes when harsh realisation hit; it was Monday! Monday meant the working week had started. I groaned in self pity and then got angry with myself; why did I have to get so carried away the night before. I checked my watch and sighed in relief that it was only seven-fifty which meant I had an hour and ten minutes before I had to open the shop. I could at least get back and get my own, very quick breakfast but sadly, Heath and Sarah would have to fend for themselves.

I got home with a good thirty minutes to spare. I opened the front door and before I did anything else, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and switched it on. I’d just got enough battery left to send a group text to Heath and Sarah.

‘HEY, you know that note I left? SCRAP IT! On account of me realising its Monday, I’m afraid I WON’T be coming back with hangover food. I’m home now and will be opening the shop shortly even though I feel like hell on earth! ENJOY YOUR STEADY DAY OF RECOVERY. LOL’

I ran upstairs and immediately went in to my bedroom to put my phone on charge then I headed straight to the kitchen. I prepared a toasted chocolate spread and banana sandwich. I needed sugar and energy so it was a breakfast that always ticked the right boxes. I didn’t have time to brew any coffee so, orange juice it was. I ate and drank far too quickly before mentally preparing myself for the indigestion that would undoubtedly strike later on in the day.

I changed into my work clothes and with just six minutes to spare, I hurried downstairs to the shop and gave it a quick once over before opening. Everything seemed in order and just as I left it. I plastered on the best smile I could muster (even though inside I still felt like death) and opened the door to my first customer of the week. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood; my greeting was met with a short, sharp thank you and a contrived smile before he went off to browse.

Ten thirty came round before I knew it and I hoped that the rest of the day would go by as quickly. After all his browsing, the moody man left the shop with nothing. I couldn’t help but wonder what the point was in opening the shop.

By ten past three, I was ridiculously hungry and seeing as I’d only had two customers all day and that the town seemed eerily quiet, I flipped the door sign to ‘closed’ and stuck a hand written note beneath it. It read:

‘CLOSED EARLY DUE TO UNFORESEEN, PERSONAL CIRCUMSTANCES.

SORRY FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE CAUSED.’

I felt guilty. I’d never closed early before and I was mad at myself as to why I felt the need to. At the same time, I was relieved that the working day was over. I locked the shop door and shut the blinds. I hadn’t checked my phone all day. I wondered if my favourite drunken people had tried to get hold of me. I grabbed my phone, pulling the charging lead from the bottom and went through to the kitchen. I filled a large saucepan with water and set it to boil on the stove. I badly wanted to eat pasta and I had just the accompaniment; Sarah’s home-made, sun-dried tomato, pancetta and garlic sauce. I was practically drooling just thinking about it. Whilst the water was bubbling away, I checked my phone. Sure enough, I had text messages; two from Heath and one from Sarah.

‘YOU TEASE! First we read the note promising food and then you tell us NO CHANCE. I suppose the shop’s more important than us then huh? LOL; only kidding. I can’t believe it’s Monday. Hope you’re ok sugar and hope today goes quickly. Love you angel. H xxxx’

Sarah’s came straight after:

‘Well, thanks for just upping and leaving us! I cook for you, I get you drunk and even let you sleep, fully clothed, on my floor and this is the thanks I get? HA HA HA HA. Just jesting. Hope the hangover from hell gets better. Oh, and thanks for leaving your waif and stray with me; he’s been a bloody nightmare all day…..NOT.’

Both texts bought a smile to my tired face. I felt lucky to have such amazing people in my life.

Heath’s last text went on to apologise for the fact he hadn’t come to the shop and that, like I had earlier, he needed some fresh air to clear his head.

‘I’ll be back about 6:30. I’ve got some shopping to do which WILL include POPCORN, NIBBLES and possibly wine, but we’ll see about that. Love you so much. H xxxx’

I smiled again. The pan of water had come to a rolling boil so I pulled a bag of tagliatelle from the larder and emptied half the bag into it. I knew I’d put way too much in for one person but at least Heath could have the leftovers. I set the timer on the oven to ten minutes (al dente was the ONLY way to serve pasta) and tapped my reply to Heath.

‘Love you too!’

******

After setting my iPod to shuffle and putting it in the speaker dock, I slumped down, deep in to my settee; steaming bowl of pasta in one hand, fork in the other. The music wasn’t loud enough to distract me from my need to just veg out but it wasn’t too quiet either. Actually, I had to admit; it was nice to have a little time to myself with my thoughts. Of course, I loved Heath and I loved him being around but since I split with Ivan, I valued and appreciated the independence that I lost as a result of being with him.

I ate leisurely, bobbing my head along to tracks by My Chemical Romance, Taking Back Sunday, The Used and Pearl Jam (I loved how ‘shuffle’ seemed to throw up the music I needed for the moment). I scraped at the remnants of pasta and sauce in the bowl like I hadn’t eaten for days (hangovers always had that effect on me). I took my dirty bowl into the kitchen and put it in the sink before pouring a pint of water. I headed back to the lounge, took the same position on the settee and continued to listen to my music.

My eyes felt gritty and tired and my lids felt heavy. I supposed forty winks wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I would feel refreshed for when Heath came home.

I felt myself drift slowly off and did nothing to quell the urge to sleep.

******

I awoke to ‘Mule’ by Deep Purple playing but that wasn’t what actually woke me; it sounded as though Heath was having trouble trying to get in. We were expecting the locksmith that evening but I bet Heath must have thought they’d been early and he’s been locked out.

I bounded excitedly downstairs but I didn’t see anyone at the door. How strange, I thought; I’d definitely heard the door. I unlocked the door myself and opened it, looking out on the street for Heath and then a sudden surge of realisation, followed quickly by fear, hit me. It wasn’t Heath who had been trying to get in. Ivan had Sarah’s key; it had to be him. Thankfully, it seemed his attempts to enter had been thwarted, by what or whom I did not know and to be frank, I really didn’t care.

I closed the door and locked up, checking everything was okay. Once happy, I headed back upstairs. As I walked past the lounge to the kitchen, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone was sitting on the settee with his back towards me. I also noted that that someone wasn’t Heath; it wasn’t Heath at all!