16
‘Do you think I’m an idiot?!’
‘I don’t think anything about you at all, mate, what with not knowing you.’
‘I’m not your mate.’
‘No shit!’
As Harriet’s taxi dropped her off at Cal’s, she heard raised male voices that seemed to be concerningly nearby and worryingly familiar. As she approached, she saw the front door was open, and discovered the altercation was happening in the hallway. She reached the door to see Jon blocking the space, Cal glimpsed beyond.
‘Jon!?’
He turned to see Harriet.
‘Oh thank God,’ Cal said, at the sight of her.
‘Jon, what are you doing here?’
‘Hi honey, I’m home,’ Jon sing-songed. He looked unsteady; even from this distance Harriet could see he was spangled. ‘When were you going to tell me you’d moved in with the other guy you haven’t told me about? Or, let me guess, you weren’t.’
‘He’s my landlord!’ Harriet said. ‘I pay Cal rent!’
‘Yeah, and the rest.’
Cal’s eyes opened wide in distaste and Harriet was mortified. She had a feeling Jon wouldn’t remember this in the morning, he was so far gone, but she had no such comfort. It was playing out in front of judgemental Cal Clarke, too. Infinity fuck’s sake. She had no choice but to take charge and claw back some meagre amount of dignity.
‘I can see you’re pissed but this is BEYOND. Get out of Cal’s house.’
‘The love nest,’ Jon said, with a leery smile. Harriet felt the remaining regard she had for her ex-boyfriend shrivel up and die.
‘Listen, you heard her. We’re not sleeping together,’ Cal said, and then quietly, but not quite quietly enough, ‘Psycho ex.’
Jon pivoted on his heel, drew back a fist and punched Cal in the face, Cal letting out a surprised yelp and staggering backwards, half sitting, half falling down, landing with a heavy thud on the staircase. Harriet let out a cry of shock and disbelief. Thankfully, Cal looked stunned but not aggressive, or likely to thump Jon back.
‘What the fuck, Jon!’ Harriet shouted, incredulity overriding her fear of causing more aggro. ‘What have you done?’
Cal, dazed, put a hand to his forehead. Blood trickled out from under his palm.
‘Are you OK?’ she said. Cal gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look in the upwards swivel from his visible eye.
Jon turned back to Harriet with the glazed, triumphant and slightly unfocused gaze of the temporarily deranged and totally wankered.
‘I did say I’d fight for you.’
Harriet lunged forward and grabbed Jon by the shirt, bundling him through the doorway and out of the house. She could smell the alcohol on him but she didn’t think he’d lay a finger on her, even in this state.
‘You realise you committed assault, right? And being drunk is no defence?’
‘If you aren’t having sex with him, why hide where you live?’ Jon said. Harriet cringed at this blunt accusation, in front of Cal. She betted the neighbours, this quiet summer evening, were having a ball.
She now easily imagined the build-up to this scene: Jon spending an hour or two firming his fevered jealous suspicions into cold certainties, helped along by his wine cellar, and eventually deciding to seek her (and him) out for a full confrontation and proof. Catching them at it. But how did he get her address?
‘I wasn’t avoiding anything; I’ve been gone two days. You’ve totally lost the plot.’
‘You didn’t tell me you were moving in with a man!’ Jon said.
‘Why does it matter?’
‘Women don’t move in with men they don’t know, do they?’
‘Well, I have.’
‘You must’ve desperately wanted shot of me,’ Jon said.
Cal muttered: ‘Can’t imagine why’ behind them and Jon spun on his heel.
‘What did you say?’
Before he could attempt another brawl, Harriet pulled the front door near shut.
‘Go home and sober up.’ She hesitated. ‘Have you got your phone?’
Jon absently patted his trouser pocket.
‘Yeah.’
‘Right, walk this off for a while, then call an Uber.’
‘Harriet.’
‘What?’
‘I love you.’
‘Fucking hell.’
Jon made a fingers-to-head salute that turned into the V-sign as his gaze went over Harriet’s shoulder towards Cal, then he turned and staggered off, on legs that appeared to be part mechanical.
When Harriet re-entered the house, Cal was in the kitchen, dabbing at his wound with a screw of paper towelling. He’d been clean shaven since their first meeting; Sam’s comments must’ve hit home.
‘Fuck I am so, so sorry. How are you?’ she said.
‘I’ve been better,’ he said, briskly, making it clear her sympathy wasn’t particularly welcome.
Harriet grimaced. Jon, you absolutely mad arsehole. She pushed painful thoughts away: how could she have got him so wrong? How could she have got it so wrong, again? What was wrong with her? She knew from experience there would be plenty of time for that. The self-disgust.
‘It would’ve been helpful if you’d explained your circumstances rather than to leave me to answer the door to him. He was hammering away like he was being chased by a bear and if I knew there was a looming threat in your life like that, I’d have known to keep it shut.’
‘Honestly, this is as much a shock to me as it is to you,’ Harriet said.
‘No offence, but I doubt that. “Break-up” didn’t quite cover it, did it?’ Cal said. ‘Bad break-up might’ve at least hinted at it.’
‘It wasn’t a bad break-up, that’s what’s so impossible to add up,’ Harriet said.
‘Could’ve fooled me.’
It took Harriet some seconds to realise she was visibly and uncontrollably shaking, with Cal realising this at the same time.
He narrowed his eyes at her, assessing. Then, appearing to almost resent the necessity of asking, said, ‘Are you alright?’
Harriet nodded and gripped her elbows with her hands. It was a surge of fight or flight, that was all, from experience she knew she just had to ride it out. With her teeth chattering.
She saw a look cross Cal’s face and could almost read the thoughts like a news break caption scroll. Oh my God you verbally attacked HER over HIS behaviour! YOU are the ogre!
‘Shit, Harriet. I blurted that without thinking. Obviously this isn’t your fault. At all.’
Harriet nodded, feeling the shaking abate slightly. Jon had triggered a panic response in her, stirred up feelings she’d not experienced for a long time.
Cal put his paper towel down and gripped her shoulder.
‘It’s OK. He’s gone now.’
After a moment’s hesitation he hugged her, and Harriet submitted to it, thinking how surreal her life had become. Cal was very warm, probably sweating with the shock. She appreciated the gesture but somehow, being clasped in guilt by the man who didn’t want her in his house wasn’t much reassurance. Neither she nor Cal wanted consolation from the other.
‘Don’t be scared. We’ll get him sent to Horny Jail.’
‘I’m not scared of him,’ Harriet said, laughing weakly, as they stepped back. Cal raised his eyebrows.
‘You should probably start,’ he said, pointing at his forehead.
Harriet thought he was being relatively chill, really, given he’d been cracked in the face.
‘I assume this is why you ran out with the clothes on your back, and were calling me the second the room went online?’ Cal added.
Harriet had the full power of speech back as her heart rate slowed.
‘No! Jon’s house was so top-of-the-range and he was so opinionated about décor, I had no reason to buy things. He’s not lairy, he won’t even swear when he’s cut up by another driver. Since I ended it a few weeks ago, he’s gone off the rails. I’ve never seen him so much as angry, in two years. This is completely out of character.’
‘Oh,’ Cal said, frowning. ‘Lucky me, I suppose.’
‘Have you got any antiseptic cream for that?’ Harriet said, peering at the graze on his brow.
‘Yeah I think so.’
Cal banged about in the cupboards. ‘This sort of thing?’
He held up Savlon, and Harriet nodded.
‘What does he do for a living?’ Cal said, squeezing the liquid onto his finger, patting it on, and wincing as it made contact with broken skin.
Harriet explained Jon was Captain Gravy, both senior and well paid.
‘Good, he won’t want to be fired then. Please tell him if I see him anywhere near this house again, I’ll call the police and his employer. I won’t do anything about this, for my sake and your sake, rather than his.’
‘I will do. Thanks,’ Harriet said, gratitude washing through her. ‘He’ll be crippled by shame in tomorrow’s hangover, seriously.’
Cal looked dubious about this. He had perhaps started to wonder if Harriet was doing a dynamite job at covering for him.
‘You sure this isn’t a pattern? He’s never raised his hand to you? Or other men?’
‘He’s never even been slightly intimidating in his life. He’d not complain the order was wrong in a Michelin-starred restaurant.’
‘Well. Wow.’
Harriet was in a slight bind: the more she emphasised it was extraordinary, the more it implied Cal ought to be less bothered about being on the receiving end. Great news, there are no other victims!
‘What’s his name again?’
‘Jon.’
‘Iron Jon, eh. Travel Iron Jon.’
Harriet snorted.
‘… Want a drink?’ Cal said.
Harriet hesitated. She couldn’t see why Cal would want to socialise with her, given the hellfire she’d brought through his door, never mind her presence at his almost-wedding. The expression in his eyes was sincere, however.
‘There’s no catch?’ he added, with a small smile.
She let out a breath.
‘Then a world of yes please.’