Page 48 of A Touch of Magic at the Comfort Food Café
Oh my, I think, buying myself time by drinking some of the cooling coffee. The webs we weave. Layers upon layers of not-quite-truths. I haven’t told my sister that Aidan isn’t my actual boyfriend, and I haven’t been able to explain it all to Laura either. We haven’t been alone together, and I feel like such an idiot I don’t know where to start. I asked Cherie if she’d tell her, but she’d just laughed and said, ‘Oh no, my love– that’s very much your mess to sort out!’
So now I have a fake boyfriend, a live-in twin sister, and a friend who is disappointed in me for not telling her that I had a boyfriend. Which I don’t. It’s getting as twisty as one of my plots, but hopefully without the murder and maiming.
‘Oh, you know me,’ I respond. ‘I like to keep myself to myself.’
‘That’s what I told her. I said you’d always been a bit of a hermit, an emotional hoarder.’
An emotional hoarder? Is that true? Will I die one day, buried beneath a pile of emotions that I’ve kept stacked on mental shelves and crammed into mind cupboards? Crushed by all my repressedfeelings?
‘Anyway, what are you going as? Are you doing a couple thing? You know, Bonnie and Clyde or whatever…’
I can honestly say that I haven’t given my Halloween costume much thought since Sally arrived. She’s the kind of person who demands all your attention, and it was a lot for me to adjust to. Between her and work, I haven’t had a lot of spare time. What little I’ve had has been filled with taking deep breaths and counting to ten.
We met Aidan in the pub for a drink last night, but we didn’t really get the chance to talk. There was a big group of us, and I was feeling like a huge fraud because we were behaving like a couple when we’re not. I’m going to have such a lot of explaining to do once this whole mess is over. I desperately hope that Ollie and Sal sort out their marital problems, because I really don’t think I can keep this up much longer.
I haven’t answered her question, and she fixes me with a stare, her head tilted to one side. ‘Or is going as a Halloween couple too much of a commitment for you, Sarah? Please don’t tell me you’re already running away from him, shutting him out like you always do! I never even got to meet that last guy, Martin, you dumped him so quickly!’
I get up so abruptly I slosh coffee on my legs. Sally doesn’t know what happened with Martin, and that is not her fault. But I still feel stung by the way she judges me so easily, and automatically assumes that it was me who was the problem.
‘That was a complicated situation, Sally. Anyway. You’re right, I really do need to sort out something for the ball. I’m going to go and see Aidan about it. Will you be all right on your own for a bit?’
‘Yes. I’m not a child. I’ll just pop over to see Auburn in the pharmacy if I get bored. She said she has a stack of Halloween face paints in. Maybe I could be a sexy corpse bride…’
Within seconds, my sister has flipped from sobbing about her failing marriage to planning world domination. I’m not fooled for a moment– I know her pain is still there, just beneath the surface. But I also know that if she is choosing to distract herself from it for now, then that is up to her. Besides, I really do need a break.
I grab my raincoat, and message Aidan from the hallway.
Halloween costume crisis. Help!
Within seconds he has replied.
Can you get away for a few hours?
Definitely yes!
I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.
I don’t even hesitate. I head outside into the rain. Even that has got to be better than staying in with Sally.
By the time he pulls up in his jeep, I’m both slightly soggy and slightly tense. Why did I call him? Why did I reach out to Aidan, when I keep telling myself– and him– that we shouldn’t be together? There are many answers to that question, but the one I keep coming back to is this: I’m an indecisive idiot.
I actually hesitate before getting into the car, and he gazes up at me as I hover between the pavement and the open door. ‘Yes or no? Staying or going?’ he asks. ‘Are you singing that Clash song in your head?’
‘I wasn’t,’ I reply, deciding on ‘yes’, ‘but I am now. Urgh… Sally was driving me mad. And I genuinely need a costume. But now I feel like I’m a horrible user calling you when I need you.’
He turns the engine off, turning to face me. His expression is a perfect blend of exasperation and amusement, his green eyessparkling. He nods and says: ‘I see. Have I ever struck you as being an especially weak-minded person? Feeble, even? Without any thoughts of my own in my pretty little head?’
I bite my lip. ‘No. Quite the opposite. You have way too many thoughts.’
‘Okay then. So, would I be here if I didn’t want to be?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe you feel sorry for me?’
He runs his hands through his hair and laughs out loud. ‘My God, you really are impossible! How’s this for a deal? We go shopping. We find Halloween outfits, because I’m also sadly lacking on that front. We have an enjoyable day together, where we avoid discussing anything deeper and more meaningful than our upcoming social engagement. Then I drop you off home, refreshed and ready to deal with your sister, and I go back to my dogs. Who by the way are a lot less complicated.’
I sneak a glance at him and see the way the rain has moulded his T-shirt to his body, slicked his hair against his neck. I tell myself off for noticing these things, and remind myself we are just friends. He is a good friend, helping me out. Nothing more.
‘It’s a deal,’ I reply.
