Page 51 of The Tape Job
As soon as I say it aloud, I realise how pathetic it sounds. Poor Liam and all that crap.
“Oh,” he replies.
“After getting back together, we did long-distance for a while. The plan was that I come here too. And we’d get married, but Vicky called the wedding off.”
Pritch flicks a puck towards Ffordey’s glove. “So, she dumped you twice?” he says. Fuck. Like I said, pathetic. “You know what? I think I’ll leave it. Seems like Vicky has some things to figure out,” he comments as he skates away.
Well, that backfired. And if Vicky hears about it, she’ll be angry, even though it’s all true. Come to think of it, she never gave me a genuine reason for her sudden change of heart about the wedding. I know for a fact that she never fell out of love with me since she’s let that nugget of information slip since. But I try to push it aside and concentrate on my warm-up. But that doesn’t go to plan either. When I skate around the net and join the queue to shoot, I notice Vicky watching me from the bench through the lens of her camera. And then I replay my conversation with Pritch, wondering if I could—or should have—said something different.
My rookie year was an absolute gong show in reflection. I don’t even know how I made it past camp. I was a complete and utter mess, relying on those goddamn videos of Vicky to get me by. And by the hope that one day she’d change her mind, which she did—until she didn’t again.
What pisses me off the most is that it was her idea to get married. She suggested it and I jumped at it, keen to put whatever we’d been through behind us and move on. We were both excited to make that move; and Vicky confessed that she’d been planning our wedding since she first saw me, even practising writing her name on things: Mrs Victoria Preston. Funny thing was, I knew, but I liked that she did it.
I absent-mindedly play with a puck, contemplating what could have been for us. My thoughts drift to the baby Vicky miscarried after thirteen weeks of hopeful anticipation that we’d become parents. I wonder where I’d be right now if that had been different. But the British accent of Hutch hits my ears and reminds me where I am, and what I’m doing—trying to get over Vicky, not pine over her and our past.
The buzzer sounds overhead signalling the end of warm-ups, and I make my way towards the bench, taking my place in line again. I wait as the guys ahead of me step onto the rubber matting, and I listen to someone ahead of me telling Bettsy that life’s too short not to take a shot. It’s a cliché term, but it hits me. Vicky comes into view up ahead, and my eyes are straight at her feet, checking out her shoes again—like the loser I am. If I recall, I’d bought them when we flew out to Vegas for a long weekend, never actually seeing a casino the whole time. That was a fucking great weekend, and a great weekend of fucking, which gets me excited and gives me a bit of courage. As I close in on Vicky, I meet her eyes and make a point of looking down at her cleavage before moving my mouth close to her ear.
“I came really fucking hard into your panties, Vic,” I breathe and the little shiver that courses through her is all the response I need.
Chapter 14
Vicky
It should surprise me to see Gary here again, but it doesn’t. He spots me straight away and heads towards me with a spring in his step. “Victoria!” he coos. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”
“Hi Gary,” I smile, praying to the stars that Kirsty comes back with the drinks sooner rather than later. “How are things?” Although I have no desire to speak with him, I try to be polite.
“Oh, fine. Yes, fine.” He’s fidgeting with the loose change in his pocket, and he’s not making eye contact. I don’t know what to say to him since he didn’t leave his answer with much of an opening for conversation, but luckily, Kirsty appears at my side and passes me a glass of wine.
“You remember Gary, right? From the last time we were here?”
“Sure,” she smiles, dragging out the ‘r.’ She has no clue who he is.
“I think I saw—oh yes, come on Vicky,” she pulls me by the elbow. “Why did you go out with him?” she asks when he’s out of earshot.
“I—” Her face drops. “Oh shit, I did see—”
I follow her line of sight and my jaw drops when I spot Johnny and Bettsy leaning against a wall at the back of the social club. I feel relieved knowing I can avoid admitting to Kirsty that Gary was the only guy who didn’t proposition me for sex; but I feel less relieved that my brother is here—at speed dating. Johnny looks like he may pass out, but Bettsy beams and waves before beckoning us over.
“Oh, wow! Bettsy doesn’t look half bad with teeth,” Kirsty whispers as we close in on them. She’s right. Bettsy has a full set of teeth, clearly for the occasion, and he looks good.
“Alright, or what?” he says. I don’t understand him, but Kirsty acknowledges it as a mere “hello.”
“Fancy seeing you here, dear brother,” I smile at Johnny, who doesn’t know where to look, and what’s more, he’s had a haircut.
“Vicky,” he nods, not looking directly at me.
Then it occurs to me that these hockey boys always travel in packs. I have to resist going overboard with the head-craning as I try to spot Liam.
“He’s not here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Bettsy says, noticing my inquisitiveness.
I’m disappointed because all I can think about is Liam and how the video would have ended if he came as hard as he said. I’m desperate to see him. The thought of it excites me—but instead I have to subject myself to a series of two-minute conversations with twenty strangers. Okay, eighteen now, considering I already know Bettsy, and Johnny is my brother.
A blonde lady with a big smile walks to the front of the room and taps the microphone.
“Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming. I’m ReLinda, and I’m happy to help in any way I can.” We’re told the men will rotate seats after each buzzer, allowing us two minutes per person. She points out where we can pick up a match card, where we put the name of the person and a tick or a cross between shifts. If two people have a tick for each other, contact details will be exchanged. “Remember to have fun and stay safe!”
As we head towards our seats, I decide to get Johnny sitting opposite me first to get that over and done with, and it’ll give me two minutes to quiz him as to why he’s here.
