Page 117 of The Moon Also Rises
“Jake, you're not listening to me.” He puts his hand on my arm, and why does it have to be soft and warm and just the perfect amount of pressure? “Your relationship with money is not about debt and spending and whatever. It's about much more than that. If you get to the bottom of why your relationship with money is hard work, then maybe it will all get a bit easier to pay the debt back.”
I laugh at that. “I have no reason to have a shit relationship with money. That's what I'm telling you. I have never wanted for money. My mother came from money. My father's job was well paid. I have never been poor, and yet I haven't been out of debt since...” I freeze. I've never told anybody this before. I'm not sure I can.
Rami squeezes my arm. “You can be honest with me. I'm not going to judge you.”
Maybe that's why this is happening, this untangling of my deepest darkest secret. Maybe it’s exactly why I'm telling him more than I’ve told anyone else. Because I can see just how little judgement there is. In fact, there's something else there rippling his features and pulling at the corners of his mouth. Concern? Care? Worry? Surely not.
“I've never not had some kind of debt,” I say on an exhale. "From my first pay cheque until right now, I have always overspent. First, it was owing my friends a few quid here and there when I wanted to go out at the end of the month and I’d run out of cash. Then it was my overdraft. And then in Sydney, I spent my inheritance upfront on a year's rent, but then still went over what I budgeted for expenses. My wage barely touched the sides so I borrowed money from my dad to get home, and he's never asked for it back, but I promised myself I would re-pay him, I just never did. Maybe that's why he's so disappointed in me.” I suck in a breath, feeling more words ready to tumble out. “Then in my mid-twenties I started using credit cards and store cards, and I just rolled it over from one new card to another. From one bank to the next. Each season I was working abroad I was able to pay off some of it because my living expenses were covered and there was no time to shop or spend, but each winter I would pretty much undo all that good work.” I swallow. “Now it's all I can do to pay off the very minimum.”
Rami pulls in a breath but keeps his eyes on me. “How much debt do you have now?” He puts his mug back on the coffee table.
Now is when I should shut up. Now is when his cool and calm facade will crack. Now is when he will be so shocked, he'll be unable to hide his disdain.
Good, I think. Because the steady warmth in his light eyes is starting to make my skin feel clammy.
“Just over fifty-five thousand pounds,” I say with a half-hearted shrug as if I'm almost considering laughing it off. “But that's not the total I've accrued over the years because I've always managed to pay off the minimal amounts before it gets too ropey. Well, most of the time."
“Oh, Jake,” Rami simply says and he squeezes my arm again. I realise I'm still not breathing, not properly. I'm waiting for his features to fall, for the whites around his pupils to widen. But his expression hasn't changed.
He's still looking at me like he wants to hug me.
“Oh, God, please don't hug me.” I lift up my hands which knocks his grip off my forearm.
“What?” Now his eyes do indeed widen.
“Please don't be nice to me about this!” I don't mean to shout but I can't keep my voice low either. “Don't be kind to me when I'm telling you how I’m a shitty person who spends way too much money on awful materialistic things.”
“Jake. I wasn't—”
“Seriously. Just have a normal reaction to it, please. Be shocked. Swear about it. Tell me I'm an idiot. Ask me if it was all worth it.”
“I don't—”
“Because it wasn't, okay?” I shout out. “None of my clothes, none of my designer bags, none of my shoes, no matter how stylish and shiny, were worth this. This noose around my neck, this tightness that is forever entwined around my body, this constant pressure on my chest…” I rush the words out because there's a ball of tears climbing up my throat.
“Jake, just shut the fuck up, will you?” Rami grips my wrists and brings my flapping hands down to rest on my thighs. "For fuck's sake.”
“Better. That's a much better reaction.” I nod, trying to feel self-satisfied but it doesn't materialise.
“I'm swearing because ofyourreaction. As for your debt, I have no strong feelings about it. Money is just money. Numbers—”
“Spoken like a man who has never been in debt in his life,” I interject grumpily.
“You don't know what my relationship with money is like,” he says and his brows pull together.
I take a leap. “But am I right? Have you ever been in debt?”
I watch his neck move as he swallows. “No, but that's not the point I was trying to make. Your debt is a symptom of a bigger issue, a bigger blockage—”
“Blockage? I'm not a sodding toilet!”
“Jake, don't try and joke your way out of this. This is serious.”
I wave a hand at him. “You just said money is only money!”
“And it is. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” His forehead crumples and his jaw tightens with effort. “Your debt, does it cause you stress?”
I sigh. “Like you wouldn't believe.”
