Nicole rests her mug on the coffee table and then sits in one corner of the sofa, curling her feet up underneath her while I stand uncomfortably near the door.
“You can sit,” she says, waving to the spot next to her, and I do, relieved that she seems less angry with me.
“Can I just clear up a few things?” I say, sipping at the scalding tea.
“What things?” she asks, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Well, I’m in London for two days, and I know I turned up on your doorstep unannounced, but I wasn’t presuming I would be staying here. I have a house in Kensington, which is being prepared right now.”
“Okay.”
“And…well, I want to make things right between us. I know my arrival is a shock, but I need to know that you’re not angry with me.”
She looks at me with a bemused expression.
“It matters that much to you?”
I shrug. “It does. Despite what you might think of me, I don’t set out to hurt people, and if I do, I need to make it right.” I run my hand through my hair, feeling more self-conscious than I’ve felt in a long time. “You seem surprised.”
“Maybe I am a little,” she says, reaching for her tea and holding it in both hands as though she needs the warmth. “That first night…you just seem different to that man.”
“We all have different faces for different situations.”
“And that’s the face you put on for women, is it?”
“Maybe.”
“So, what’s this face then?” She sips her tea, gazing at me with one raised eyebrow.
I rub my hands over my face, wondering the same thing. “I guess this is just me,” I say with a shrug. Really, Aaron? Not for the first time, I question my own sanity in being here. How many rules am I breaking right now? I shudder to think.
“And you don’t think women will like your real ‘face’?”
“It isn’t that.”
“Well, what is it then?”
“Can we talk about something else? Is that okay?” I say, leaning back against the sofa and staring at the black TV screen to avoid her gaze.
“Of course,” Nicole says, and I can feel her eyes on me, taking everything in. I don’t like the feeling that she’s seeing me. The real me. Precisely the reason I put on the “face”.
“So, I don’t suppose you’d like to fuck?”
When I glance in her direction with a smirk playing on my lips, Nicole simply raises her eyebrows disapprovingly.
“Guess not,” I laugh. “How about some breakfast? Can I take you somewhere nice for a meal? A peace offering.”
“I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes,” she says, waving at her outfit.
“Well, shower then.”
“How about you go to Tesco Express around the corner and pick us up some breakfast while I freshen up. I’m not in the mood to go out. I still feel like it’s the middle of the night.”
“Okay,” I say, jumping up. “Which direction should I head?”
“Out of the front door, turn left and then left again at the first junction and walk for about five minutes.”
“Okay,” I say, finishing my tea. I can do this. I can shop at Tesco like a normal human being. I can’t remember the last time I bought my own food.19
NICOLEAaron has been gone for a long time. So long that I’ve managed to shower, dry my hair, put a load of washing into the machine and tidy up the place, and he still isn’t back. For some strange reason, I’m worried about him, and the preposterousness of it makes me laugh. He’s a grown man, for goodness sake, with enough money to buy all the houses as far as the eye can see, according to Maya. He’s perfectly capable of buying a few croissants and some milk, isn’t he? Maybe not! He has a chef in staff quarters at home who probably does all of his food shopping. I wonder if he even carries cash on him. He probably has a servant at home just to carry his wallet.
I snort at the image of a man complete with a red velvet cushion to accommodate the wallet and peer through the blinds to see if Aaron’s on his way back.
He isn’t.
I slump down on the sofa and turn on the news, watching it absentmindedly as I contemplate the weird situation that I find myself in. When I left home three days ago, I would never, in my wildest dreams, have imagined I’d be waiting for the return of a financial giant holding a Tesco carrier bag. I feel a bit like a non-fairy-tale version of Cinderella, who has misplaced her prince in favor of a whiskey-drinking, bossy, bondage fanatic with multi-personality issues. I’m baffled at Aaron’s motivation for traveling all the way to here to apologize. When he suggested we fuck again, it was so half-hearted that I was shocked.