Page 32 of Embracing Us

My phone springs to life in my palm, vibrating and trilling furiously. Now that got a reaction. I reject the call. The alert of the incoming contact starts again within moments, and I dismiss it again. I cannot trust myself to be civil with her, so there is no point in me talking to her directly. That conversation can be had tomorrow when we are both sober.

Meet me tomorrow as requested, and we can discuss things then.

The two blue ticks highlight confirming my message has been delivered and read, but Marina doesn’t respond. Part of me hopes she will appear tomorrow, and I can discuss these issues face to face. Another part of me wants to do what I need to do and return to Spain without laying eyes on her. I’m not sure which scenario would be best. At least Jace will be there as support.

“Another beer?” Jace asks, lifting the brown bottle towards me and clinking it with the empty one poised between my fingers. I nod but don’t look at him. The hiss of the cap being removed from the glass sounds then it is placed on the table in front of me.

“Thanks,” I tell him, distracted.

“Is she going to come tomorrow?” he asks.

“I don’t know. We will find out, I suppose.”

*

The next morning, Jace and I leave for my apartment to arrive at the same time the agent is due to meet us. From the outside, everything looks the same as the day I left but when I push open the front door, my heart sinks. My eyes scan the living room, unable to comprehend the devastation. Every surface is littered with clothes, beer bottles or empty takeout containers. It looks as if a party has taken place and everyone has only just left.

“Is she here?” Jace says in a dramatic stage whisper, and I shrug before storming into the centre of the room and spinning three hundred and sixty degrees.

“What the actual fuck,” I exclaim to myself. Jace focus on me and starts to laugh. “I’m glad you’re finding this funny. She’s been using my home as a party pad.” Before he can answer, I walk to the kitchen and open the larder cupboard in search of trash bags. None are to be found, the storage that was once home to my cleaning products is now crammed with alcohol, biscuits and condoms. Jace appears at my shoulder, his gaze moving across the bizarre contents.

“Who keeps condoms in their kitchen?” he says, glancing at me.

“Marina, it seems.” I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers, close my eyes and tilt my head back.

“What are you doing? You look as if you’re praying for divine intervention.” He chuckles. “Praying isn’t going to clean this place up before the letting agent arrives. Are you brave enough to check the bedroom?”

“She’s been staying in the spare room,” I tell him and wander off in the direction of the sleeping areas. Both doors are closed, I push open the guestroom door. It’s perfectly tidy, the bed made and ready for someone to stay. There are no personal belongings to be seen. Typical, she keeps her bedroom tidy but destroys the rest of the place. “It looks all right in here.” Jace mumbles something incoherent. “What was that?”

“Check the other bedroom,” he says, evasively.

“Have you looked?” He nods, his face contorted into a grim expression. “What the fuck now.” I turn and head towards my own bedroom. The only room in the apartment I told Marina not to go in. It wasn’t hers to use. The door is open from Jace’s earlier inspection. I don’t need to step inside to see the destruction.

My bed sits unmade, the covers pouring off the edge. Female underwear hangs on the wardrobe and drawer handles. Photographs and positive memes are pinned to the walls. I stand in the doorway and my jaw drops when I see the baby pink chiffon drapes that have replaced my simple black blinds. The floor can barely be seen for the sea of clothes strewn across it, the sequins glitter under the daylight.

“She’s turned my bedroom into a graveyard for Barbie’s wardrobe,” I snap. Jace snorts with laughter. I spin to face him, and he grins.

“Little Marina is certainly a diva,” he says with a smile. “Anything you ask her to do, she seems to do the exact opposite. I am feeling slightly smug though. I was right about her fancying you. I called that, and you didn’t listen.”

“Don’t gloat. It doesn’t suit you.” Before I can say more, there is a knock at the front door. “Great, the agent is here.”

“I’m sure she’s seen worse.” Jace walks off in the direction of the front door, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll let her in. You try to decompress. You look like you’ve swallowed a wasp. The last thing we need today is to piss this woman off.”

“I’m going to kill Marina,” I hiss, but he’s gone.

Voices become audible in the hallway. It’s clear Jace is implementing his charm. I move towards the sound. They are standing in my living area, chatting enthusiastically, both turning when they hear my footsteps. She’s older than I expected, maybe in her mid-fifties with sleek grey bobbed hair wearing a fitted black trouser suit. A bright smile explodes across her face when she extends a hand in greeting.

“Good morning, Mr Gordon,” she says. “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

“I want to apologise for the mess,” I reply. “My fiancée’s daughter has been staying here. I’ll be having a word with her about her housekeeping skills. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.” My cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Lesley,” she tells me, kindly. “Don’t worry. You must be rushing around like a lunatic. Jace here tells me you’re moving to Spain for a year and getting married next week. That’s a lot to have going on.”

“Yes, we are. It’s all very sudden but much needed.”

“It sounds incredibly exciting,” she says with so much passion, it’s almost believable. “Anyway, show me around here and we can discuss your options for renting.”

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