Also, the incessant ringing of my phone is disturbing my peace. I pick
it up and answer it without even bothering to check who is calling.
ILLUSTRATION | JOSEPH NGARI
By the time I finish my meal I am just about ready to go home,
but it seems Harry has other plans. “So how about we go somewhere else
after this?”
No. Just, no. I don’t
think I can take another minute – leave alone hour or more – listening
to him go on about himself without me being able to get a word in
edgewise. I suppose now I understand why, at his age, and despite the
obvious success of the company he runs, Harry is still single.
“I’m feeling a little tired, actually,” I say, then throw in a fake yawn just to emphasise my point.
“Only for an hour or two,” he insists.
“I really am tired…” I venture.
“Just for a short while, if you don’t enjoy it we can leave.”
I
sigh a little dramatically; clearly there is no saying no to this man. I
might as well just grin and bear it, and make sure to never gift him
with my time and attention.
SICKLY FEELING
Because
I have long given up the possibility of Harry ever listening to me, I
let him choose the venue for our next appointment – a club that plays
house music, which I absolutely detest – and grin and bear it for the
next two hours or so, thankful that the club is too noisy for us to do
more than shout a few sentences in each other’s direction.
But
Harry seems to be enjoying the music so much, nodding along and tapping
his feet, that I do not think he notices how disconnected I am. And so I
sip my wine and think my thoughts and just when I think I am about to
die of boredom, I decide to take matters into my own hands and let him
know that it’s time for me to leave.
“If you won’t drop me I’ll take a taxi home and you can stay and enjoy yourself,” I shout.
“No,
it’s ok, I’ll drop you,” he says, finishing off his beer and reaching
for his wallet to pay the bill. When we step outside into the fresh air,
no longer pressed in by sweaty, dancing bodies, and where there no
longer is the loud music assaulting my eardrums, I feel like I just
stepped onto a newer, fresher planet.
“Home?”
he asks, matter-of-factly. I nod, and we get into the car and zoom off
into the night. “I had a really good time tonight,” Harry says, smiling a
smug smile. I say nothing. “Did you?”
“Yea, yea,” I shrug. “I’m just so beat. I think I am coming down with something,” I say.
“I
hope not,” Harry turns to me and frowns just as we pull into my
compound. “I’ll call you tomorrow and find out if you’re ok, alright?” I
nod. I mean, I don’t want to encourage him or anything, but I am
feeling a little peaky. I don’t even have the energy to argue with him.
“Ok
then, tomorrow,” I say, and hurriedly get out of the car. In the
comfort of my house, it is only a few minutes before I feel my
oesophagus react in that way that can only mean one thing; whatever is
in my stomach is about to come back out – and quickly.
I
make it to the loo with just a few seconds to spare, and in a few
minutes, my stomach is empty of its contents. I rinse, wipe my mouth,
brush my teeth and stagger into my bed without even bothering to take
off my make-up.
SURPRISE CALL
I
fall into a deep slumber, and wake up at 8am feeling just as horrible
as I was the night before. Also, the incessant ringing of my phone is
disturbing my peace. I pick it up and answer it without even bothering
to check who is calling.
“Liz?” It’s Alex. Surprise, surprise.
“What?” I croak.
“Aha. You’re still in bed. Must have been a long night, eh?”
“No, I’m just not feeling-,” but then he cuts me off.
“You know, your stunt last night really pissed me off,”
“Ok, but I-,”
“I was ready to make it up to you for all the times I stood you up. I had it all planned out.”
“Yes,
it’s just that right now I am-,” once again, he cuts me off. Boy, it
looks like this weekend is not a good one for anyone to listen to me.
“You need to give me one more chance. And dump that fat, ugly guy you were with last night.”
I
don’t get a chance to hear what he’s saying; the dry heaving
originating from my tummy tells me that it’s time to hit the loo again –
and I rush off, dropping my phone on my bed and leaving Alex talking to
himself.
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