‘Okay,’ I say. I don’t push her. I don’t need to. I can sense she’s getting closer to confiding in me and if nothing else listening to Lily’s podcast is a real step forward. Changing Jas’s ringtone seems like a mini revolution, a step towards the Cass I have always known.
I pick up the paintbrush again, aware that Olive has marshalled her troops into neat lines and is gesturing at Ellen to take her position at the piano in the corner of the room.
‘Okay and at the ready, let’s warm up those vocal cords.’ Olive is standing in front of the lines barking like a sergeant-at-arms. I brace myself for ‘Any Dream Will Do’ and am shocked to hear the strains of ‘Sexual Revolution’ filling the room.
Bloody hell. I pause my painting and look out across the room to the group of thirty-odd men and women all in their matching T-shirts, bellowing the hell out of it. They are giving it their all and it is contagious, I shoot a look across at Cass and see she too is dancing as she paints.
I grab my phone, hit record and then send the video to Lily. This not only works as an ice-breaker but genuinely could be exactly what Jinx is looking for!
Chapter Thirty-One
Lily
I’m scrolling through my phone after seeing Angela when it pings with a message from Jay and my heart does some kind of weird pitter-patter of excitement. It’s either that or a minor myocardial infarction.
No! This is not supposed to happen. I should be feeling guilt not heart-flips.
I was ignoring him resolutely but my fight with Kevin made me step back and look at myself.
And I have been a bitch.
Jay has been honest, open and done nothing other than try and help. I’ve allowed my vulnerabilities to dictate behaviour and completely overreacted. Me ignoring Jay has not been adult me, it has been damaged panicked child me and she is not in charge any more.
At least I didn’t think she was.
I understand that emotional armour has a role to play and is there as a conditioned response. But my behaviour shows that my armour hasn’t softened over time but is battle-ready and sharpened, harming people that I really don’t want to hurt.
And the bewildering thing is that with Jay, if I strip out my emotionally damaged muscle memory, I am not one hundred per cent sure ofwhatI want.
My excitement over receiving this text is disconcerting.
I was hoping after the sex – and the immediate post-coitus high – my excitement when I see Jay’s name, when I think of him, picture his face, his arms...oh shit...see, point proven... Iwashoping all of that would diminish once we had sex.
Diminish. Dissipate. Disappear, ideally. The itch having been scratched. That is usually what happens to me. The act of the act means the sexual tension burns out, curiosity (and everything else) sated.
But the truth is, I have never really had sex like that before.
Don’t get me wrong. I am The Love Doctor. I dole out sexual advice on a daily basis and have experienced some truly amazing, wall-banging, bed-rocking, scream-inducing sex in the past.
Jay and I are something completely different and instead of it allowing me to smile and move on, it feels a little bit like I am caught up, that walking away is hard to do now. He is constantly in my head, has been really since we met, and instead of getting rid of him, sleeping with him has led to some kind of invisible string pulling at me, tying me even tighter to Jay.
That is the exact opposite of what I need to happen.
And me flailing about, lashing out like a powerless child, has been a demonstration of how out of control I feel.
I would like to speak to Kevin more. He blindsided me the other day. But now I’ve thought about it, can acknowledge he was right and that I shouldn’t be ignoring Jay, I need him to say something that will stop me getting the jitters every time my phone beeps and I am hurtled back to a night of tangled sheets, sweaty limbs and whispered words.
Talking of which, whathasJay sent me? It appears to be a group of people, most of them of retirement age dressed in the most garish T-shirts I have ever seen. One has customised hers and it is dripping with added feathers, and she is wearing a cork hat – I kid you not – and gyrating her hips like Elvis.
Why is he send— Oh wow! I turn up the volume of my phone and it all becomes clear. Do you know what, this is indeed a rare find. This could actually work. The man is a genius. I need to hunt Kevin down. He has been missing recently, off with Dan all hours and often not coming home at all, and I haven’t seen him since our fight. But I know he feels strongly that his Drag Factor entry is lacking something, needs more.
I’m happy that he has found someone who understands all of his foibles and has the practical skills to help him in the run-up to Drag Factor. My lack of dressmaking skills and inability to play or read music have been a frequent cause of distress to Kevin so to find someone passionate about both has been a huge bit of luck. And saves me from having Kevin hurl insults at me because I don’t know anything about seam allowances or the correct way to pin. I shall hunt him down tonight and show him this video. This could be exactly what he needs to ‘lift’ his entry.
My buzzer goes and startles me; I have no more clients scheduled. What if it’s Jay? What if he has come to tell me in person that ignoring him is Grade-A shitty behaviour? What if I let him in and lose all self-control and before we know it we are sinking onto the sofa, the two of us entwined and...Oh God! What if I let him in and he tells me I am a loathsome human being who should be ashamed of herself and he doesn’t want anything further to do with me? I find myself putting my phone on the table, the screen facedown. Then I pick the phone up and put it behind a cushion.
What am I doing? I pop it back on my desk and go to answer the door. It’ll just be a parcel or something, a wrong address, it’s not going to be Jay. He has clearly just sent me this video so he must be at... I go back for my phone and bring the video up again. He’s at a community centre that’s over the other side of the city.
The buzzer goes again but this time it’s not one polite buzz but lots of quick, staccato buzzes, insistent. Whoever it is, they’re impatient.
