25
After thinking about it quite a lot on the three different trains back from Leeds, my expectations for my date with Gavin are low, if only because I think it is best to go into any potential romantic encounter with my hopes set no higher. Tonight, then, I have made sure my truest self is on display from the beginning.
To Gavin, I will likely not look much different than I do in the office every day, just a bit more polished. I’ve curled my hair, covered my bruised face with foundation, smacked a bit of powder over it all so I’m not shiny, put on heavier eyeliner, applied a lick of lipstick. It’s the outfit that’s telling them what’s what: a pair of black straight-cut jeans with a black T-shirt. So far, so normal. The T-shirt is a standard cotton men’s fit, which is transformed into a thing of great beauty as it has a picture of Malcolm’s face on it with bold text framing him that saysFixer Upper.Here it is, Gavin, your warning sign.
I cover it up with my leather jacket then get my tote bag, which has the first printouts I’ve got to hand over to Amara in it. The paper, thick and glossy, is from the hotel’s business centre, where I spent the morning sipping mimosas and printing files directly from Brian’s phone with no care for the 10p-a-page charge because it was getting put onto Brian’s account.
Immediately shagging my co-worker when I need this job to survive seems like a bad idea, meaning I’ve decided, as hard as Gavin may prove to resist, that tonight will be a sexless evening. So, after the movie I’m going to pop into the ASDA Amara works in – which is, handily, next to the cinema – once the date has reached its natural conclusion.
Gavin is waiting for me outside the pub they told me to meet them at, wearing the khaki felt coat they often wear to work with jeans, their office brogues replaced with a pair of Adidas Gazelles. When the lighthouse beam of their face reaches me, they illuminate, eyes wide, a smile of genuine pleasure I’m there. The soles of my Converse squelch across the damp pavement towards them, and everything I was thinking before I got here has gone. Never has anyone been so pleased to see me. My expectations are now quite lofty.
‘Hey, you,’ they say in a softer than usual voice, wiping a stray curl out of their eye before leaning down to kiss my cheek, thankfully not the sore one.
In the pub, I get the drinks in to demonstrate I am not the kind of woman who doesn’t financially pull her weight, as Gavin has already paid for the tickets to the film we’re seeing. It seems they believed me when I said I was into ‘the arts’ because they’ve chosen a Korean romantic drama for us to view. To keep a respectful distance between us I sit on a stool across from them, rather than beside them like the night we first kissed. I remove my jacket and realise there’s nowhere for me to put it but in a neat bundle at my feet on the floor.
‘Wow. That’s an amazing top.’ Gavin takes a measured sip from their gin and tonic.
I pull it out in front of me, making Malcolm’s face taut. ‘I know we spoke about Brian being on it, but do you actually likeFixer Uppers Go Under the Hammer?’
‘Like it? I bloody love it! It’s on on a Sunday morning when I tidy my place.’
‘Do you ever listen to his podcast?’
‘I was unaware he had one. Is it any good?’
On the episode I listened to as I got ready, Malcolm spent a long time talking about a minor shoplifting scandal he was involved in a decade ago. He was not taking big joints of meat and storing them down his trouser leg or anything as obvious as that. He was instead a known liar at the self-service checkout, telling the till expensive items like loose mangoes were less valuable products like white onions. His local supermarket had let it fly due to his minor celebrity, until he started scanning bottles of own-brand wine then swapping it out for expensive stuff, having learned the employee code to bypass the ID verification, and so they made an example of him and took him to court. Except the jury couldn’t decide on his guilt, not at the first trial or the retrial. Without any confirmed crime, he kept his job.
On the podcast he brought it up in reference to a footballer’s high-profile rape acquittal. He said, ‘He’s forever going to be tainted because of the kind of crime he was accused of. What happened to me was – and I did not do it, I categorically deny the charges – it was not the sort of crime people shun you for. If anything, I was a freedom fighter to some, and if I were accused of anything – and I am not going to be but I am talking about an “if I was” type of scenario – I would not be cancelled by the culture, because those supporters are still behind me, still see me as a man battling corporate greed and the big supermarkets who destroy small local businesses. I am, frankly, uncancellable.’
I don’t retell that to Gavin now. The T-shirt is enough information to go on at this stage. Instead I say what someone with a normal level of interest in Malcolm Havisham would: ‘I enjoy the podcast now and again, but in small doses. He’s an acquired taste, you know?’
‘Agreed. I think he’s hilarious, generally speaking. Although I do worry about his mental health.’
‘You do?’ I regularly check the Reddit boards for the programme. People tend to talk about the state of the renovations, no one talks about Malcolm the man in much detail. His propensity to wear two coats is the most discussed element of his being. I had thought myself singularly interested in his psychology.
‘Yeah, it was something Brian said after he was filmed. How Malcolm wandered the house talking to himself and you weren’t allowed to make eye contact with him.’
‘Did he say anything else about him?’ After Ron’s titbit last night I’m hungry for more detail. A smell, a texture, anything to flesh Malcolm out.
‘No, not that I can remember.’
‘Ah, OK.’ This is not much to work with. ‘Are you and Brian pals then?’
Their face sours. ‘I wouldn’t go that far, no. He’s fine, I guess. Unless you’re his wife, who he’s the devil to. He leaves me to get on with things, which I like. I think he views me as a pal, which is not how I see him. He’s more of an acquaintance. A lot of areas in my life have been going through changes, so having a steady job where the boss is fairly chill works for me for now.’
‘Wouldn’t now be the perfect time to go somewhere new? Might as well have it all in flux. Especially if you’ve not been appreciated properly there.’ This caring statement is brought to you by me preferring it if the person I am insanely attracted to were not an estate agent.
‘I think you underestimate how big the changes have been.’ They run their foot up my calf as they sook up the last of their gin, their straw sputtering.
Killing the moment, I turn my phone over from where I’ve rested it on the sticky table and tap it to check the time. ‘Should we get moving?’
Entering the cinema screen, Gavin reads out the row and numbers of our seats. There’s no need; we can sit wherever we want as there’s only us and a couple in the front row. Still, we find the ones Gavin selected when they booked for the optimum view, in the middle of the middle row, and get comfortable. I perch the popcorn we bought at the kiosk between us and, after taking a fistful of it, Gavin strokes my arm. When the trailers start they sink their frame down, their legs filling the space in front of them, and place their head on my shoulder. Their forwardness surprises me, but then, I did jump their bones in that alleyway in broad daylight. Why wouldn’t they think this was all OK in the dark?
As the film’s credits roll, I look down at my chest, and seeing Malcolm’s face reminds me of who I am, what I am capable of. I know then that everything with Gavin – whatever it becomes – is going to be fine because I am in charge of my own destiny.
26
For the entirety of the movie I have not read a single subtitle, so please don’t ask me what it was about. Gavin and I have been snogging. Like a trooper, I persevered through the cheek pain. Now, the skin on my chin is raw from their stubble, my jaw aches, my stomach is somersaulting. My eyes water from the lights coming on. With our actions no longer hidden in the dark, neither of us is as bold as we were mere minutes ago, putting our hands under one another’s clothing, our fingers tracing the outline of one another’s genitals. We wait for the other couple to clear the room before getting out of our seats.
