Repeating History (History #1) Page 2

  From: Andrew.Contrius@TRWAdvertising.co.uk

  To: Clara (Clara.Delos@TRWAdvertising.co.uk)

  RE: re: re: Perhaps I was wrong

  Got a date have you, Delos?

  I’m not going to let up you know; by Monday morning you’ll have given up on his ridiculous notion of trying to ignore me.

  A

  Andrew Contius

  Account Director

  TRW Advertising

  I can almost hear him chucking to himself as I formulate my reply. I can almost see his eyes twinkling with humour. He’s probably counting the seconds to see how long I can resist replying. He knows I always react.

  From: Clara (Clara.Delos@TRWAdvertising.co.uk)

  To: Andrew.Contrius@TRWAdvertising.co.uk

  RE: re: re: re: Perhaps I was wrong

  Not a date. Just catching up with friends.

  Good luck with your scheme. You know it won’t work, right?

  C

  Clara Delos

  Account Director

  TRW Advertising

  His reply is practically automatic.

  From: Andrew (Andrew.Contrius@TRWAdvertising.co.uk)

  To: Clara (Clara.Delos@TRWAdvertising.co.uk)

  RE: No date? That’s a shame

  Shame. I was looking forward to ruining a date with my incessant beeping and pinging.

  Of course it will work Delos. I’ve already got you replying haven’t I?

  A

  Andrew Contius

  Account Director

  TRW Advertising

  I decide not to reply. Instead I open up the Facebook app on my phone. I have a few new friend requests. I quickly accept them; they are all from work. As I am flicking through them I find one that I wish I could ignore; Andrew Contrius.

  Instead of accepting, I spend a few minutes having a look at his profile, checking his relationship status and going through his profile photos before unwillingly accepting him. I ignore the voice in my head that says I’m Facebook stalking him. I don’t want to be rude to a new colleague even if it is him. Within seconds of accepting his friend request I receive an instant message from him.

  I knew you couldn’t stay away.

  I don’t know what you are talking about. I couldn’t refuse your request; our colleagues would have wondered why we weren’t friends.

  Ah... excuses... excuses... As if they’d have noticed. They are an oblivious sort. So tell me, these friends you are meeting up with; do I know them?

  Yes, you do. Anna, Mike and Elle from school.

  Are you all still BFFs? I’d have thought you’d have outgrown each other by now!

  Why?

  Don’t know. Just seems silly, still being close to people from school.

  Are you and James not friends anymore? I fully concede your point, we shouldn’t be close to some of the people we went to school with; for example, I shouldn’t be close to you. I think you should refrain from coming into my office.

  Now you’re just talking rubbish. We’re different. We were never close in school and we’re still not now... although we could rectify that. James and I talk occasionally.

  I think I need more distance, not less, thanks.

  Shame. I’m enjoying the less. Where are you meeting your friends?

  A pub.

  ?

  Why do you think I would even think about telling you? Knowing you, you’ll show up just to torment me.

  True. It was worth a go.

  In school, my friends were convinced that Andrew fancied me. They were always saying that boys tend to tease the girls they fancy, but I had never believed them. Andrew had managed to make me feel absolutely awful about myself. He seemed to always be able to pick up on every insecurity I had and point it out for the whole school to see. I’d been foolish enough to have a crush on him at one point. I’d been seventeen and we’d been at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Everyone was well on the way to getting completely wasted when I’d decided to go out for some air. He’d been watching me, smirking at me, with another bloody apple in hand. I’d felt his grey eyes on me almost all night and I was anxiously waiting for the taunting to start. “You look pretty tonight,” I heard him say from the door way.

  I didn’t turn round. I didn’t want to see his teasing expression. “But?” I waited for the ridicule. I knew it was coming. He never missed an opportunity to make a joke at my expense.

  “But nothing; you look pretty.”

  I had turned around then, my eyes wide, taking him in. He had just stood there with an easy grace, acting as if his behaviour was completely normal and in character. As if he hadn’t just said the most absurd thing I’d ever heard. His grey eyes looked sincere but I daren’t believe him. His words didn’t fit into the parameters of our relationship. I had decided it was safest to escape. I had nodded before making my way back inside towards my friends. I avoided him like hell for the rest of the night and tried not to dwell on what he had said. I had ignored the sensation of his watchful gaze on my back. Even then as a teenager I had been more aware of him and what he was doing than anyone else I’ve ever known. As much as I had pretended not to be affected, seventeen year old me had allowed his words to wash over me and when I went home that night there was a smile on my face. I didn’t expect anything to change but a small part of me had hoped. I’d hoped that I’d go into school the next day and everything would be different. I’d lain in bed wishing that he would tell me he liked me. I’d really hoped he’d ask me out; not that I’d ever admit it. When I had gone into school on Monday morning and he immediately started ripping into me, I couldn’t help myself; I burst into tears and rushed into the nearest bathroom. He’d managed to make me feel like absolute shit. Somehow his compliment had hurt me far more than every joke and teasing comment he’d ever made at my expense.

  Half an hour later, when I enter the pub, my friends are already sitting at a comfortable table near the fire. I’ve missed them so much. I haven’t told them about Stephen and Cathy. They know that we broke up and they know that he hurt me but I haven’t told them the details. It still hurts too much for that. The pub is called ‘The Last Leg’, an old pub with an equally old landlady. I drop my stuff at the table with my friends, remove my coat and scarf, grabbing the wine they have ordered for me, and perch down on the bench, “cheers.”

  Anna’s eyes are sparkling with interest, “your email; did you mean Andrew Contrius?”

  I nod. I don’t want to open my mouth; I’m not sure I will be able to control my tongue.

  “Bloody hell,” Elle laughs.

  “Just your luck,” Mike grins.

  “You never know it could be fun,” Anna suggests with a wink. They all laugh at that idea; of course they would find this funny. Andrew had been one of the popular boys; with his messy, black hair. He’d always had a reputation for being a bit of a player. He’d had several girlfriends during the years that he’d spent teasing and bullying me. They had all been of the same sort; skinny, blonde, pretty, popular. They had always been everything I wasn’t.

  “Hell; it could be fate,” Elle tries.

  My phone beeps and I consider ignoring it but think twice, it could be important. It might be about work or it could be from my dad.

  Miss me yet?

  No. Go away.

  Never.

  Arse.

  Arse? That seems unkind.

  Really? I’m sorry... I think it’s quite tame. There are other names I’ve been wanting to call you for years. I think I’m showing restraint.

  Really? Well, feel free to indulge yourself, so long as you’re screaming them as I...

  You are an arse. Fuck off.

  I put my phone away. I must not let him get inside my head.

  I’ve managed to avoid looking at my phone for the last three hours. He’s messaged me a couple of times much to Michael’s entertainment. Mike’s been teasing me all night about Andrew. “It’s your chance to tell him you’ve always liked him,” Elle smiles happily at me.
She’s always been a romantic. She’s had a crush on Mike’s brother Jack for as long as I can remember but she’s never said it out loud. All of us know of course. Jack even knows; I’m almost sure of it. He’s a couple of years older than us all but he’s far less mature than Michael and so he’s always seemed like the younger brother out of the two.

  “I think you’re projecting,” Anna smirks.

  Elle scowls at her before continuing, “I’m not projecting. Clara has always liked him.”

  “No I haven’t,” I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue with her. None of them are going to believe me any way. They’ve always known when I’m lying and I really did like him back when we were seventeen.

  “Yes you have,” Mike rubs me on the back soothingly, “but that’s okay. There’s no accounting for taste.”

  “You bastard,” I shake my head at his teasing remark, “you’re supposed to look out for me.” He is a shitty best friend.

  “Doesn’t mean I’m going to lie to you,” Michael has dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes. He used to play hockey when we were in school. His shoulders are broad and he has a strong build. He’s smirking at me. Mike is probably the only one of my friends who is in a proper committed relationship. He’s been married for years. He’d married Sarah as soon as they’d graduated from university.

  “Come on Mike,” Anna laughs, “we shouldn’t tease her.”

  “You’re right,” he sighs, “Sarah wanted me to invite you round for dinner, Clara. She’s missed you.”

  “I’ve missed her too,” I smile at him. Sarah his wife had been one of the popular girls in our year at school. She’d been friends with Andrew and his friends. It had been a bit of a surprise to us all when Mike had asked her out in our final year at school. The bigger surprise had been her saying yes. Mike had been attractive but he’d never been popular. Our group of friends were sort of second tier; neither cool or uncool. We just existed. So when Sarah had said yes to Michael it had given me hope that perhaps I had a chance with Andrew but that had been stupid of me. I’d never had a chance with Andrew. I was and always would be just the girl he teased, “and Amelia... I can’t wait to see Amelia. I bet she’s grown so much.”

  “She has,” Michael is the image of a proud father, “she’s amazing. She dances around the room, twirling like a ballerina. Sarah wants her to have dance lessons. She sings too; like an angel. You’ve never heard anything quite so beautiful...”

  “Tell Sarah I’d love to come for dinner,” I smile at him.

  The four of us sit in the pub for hours reminiscing and enjoying each other’s company. It’s fantastic being back with them, just like old times, except now we are proper adults. Michael is finally a doctor and Elle is in Medical Research. One day she wants to cure cancer. Anna is an occupational therapist and I have just finished my first week at my dream job.

  Chapter two: Andrew

  My brother Jacob has dragged me out tonight. He’s in rant mode about the most recent escapades of our younger sister Maya. “She’s twenty one... what do you expect?” I ask, as I down the rest of my beer, “My round.” I jump to my feet and head towards the bar of the Kent Mockery. I check my phone as I wait for the barman to get our beers. She hasn’t replied. I hate it when she ignores me. I send her a quick message over facebook since I haven’t managed to get her number yet.

  Back to ignoring me again?

  I wait a split second to see if she replies but she doesn’t so I sigh, put my phone back in my pocket and pick up our beers. Jacob is typing into his phone when I get back to him. It’s probably work related so I give him a moment. He’s a lawyer and a workaholic. A moment or so later he puts his phone away, “sorry about that. A case I’m working on at the moment... it’s a bitch.”

  “No worries,” I grin at him. I’ve always looked up to my big brother, not that I’d ever tell him that.

  “As I was saying,” Jacob is back to his rant, “Maya needs to grow up. If I have to loan her the money to pay her rent one more time...” he doesn’t finish his sentence because he knows that whatever words he was going to end it with are meaningless. The threat was completely hollow.

  “Jake,” I try to reason with him, “Where is she living?”

  “I’ve no idea. She doesn’t tell me anything these days. I think she lives with a friend.”

  “Have you spoken to mum about her?”

  “Are you serious? Since when has mum had any control over any of us?” He’s laughing at the idea and if I’m honest with myself, he’s not wrong.

  “She’s serious about this singing thing?” I ask.

  “I don’t know how serious you can be about being a singer. I mean, she sings beautifully, don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing but can she seriously believe that she can make it into a career?”

  I shake my head, “I don’t know.”

  “You could offer her an internship or something at TRW.”

  “She’d hate it.”

  “She’s shown no interest at all in the law otherwise I’d invite her to join me at the firm. At least advertising is creative...”

  “Creative? Why do you say that with such abhorrence?”

  “I didn’t realise I had,” Jacob smirks at me. I know better though. Our mother has always been a creative sort of person. She draws and sculpts. I think that’s why Jake struggles with the idea of our sister trying to be a singer. She’s too similar to our bohemian mother. “So what girl has you checking your phone every few minutes?”

  “I’m not checking my phone every two minutes,” I tell him defensively.

  “Are too!”

  “Whatever.”

  “Come on then; who is she?” Jacob’s mood has changed. I can’t tell if it’s because we’re no longer talking about Maya or if it has something to do with whatever he was typing into his phone a few minutes ago. He’s smirking at me and it’s infuriating.

  “Just someone I work with,” I concede because he’ll just keep digging if I don’t give him something.

  “Right... just someone you work with.”

  “Yes.”

  “Not giving much away are you?” He has a teasing glint in his eye. I can’t tell him about Clara. He used to tease me about her back when we were in school. He is the reason I used to bully Clara so badly. I’d once told him about the pretty red haired girl in my class and he’d teased me about her for hours.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Now... now... no need to get all defensive.”

  My phone buzzes and I’m tempted to ignore it so as not to give him anything more to mock me about, except the idea that Clara might have replied is far more enticing.

  What could I possibly have to say to you?

  Miss Delos, there are thousands of things you could say to me...

  Like what?

  I haven’t got a clue what to say to her. I glance up at my brother. He’s watching me with interest. He’ll have something to say about this. I send a quick message to Clara;

  I’d settle for a date.

  A date?

  Yes, a date. You. Me. Dinner?

  I’m not going to dinner with you.

  Shame. What about a movie?

  My brother smirks as he interrupts, “little brother it’s rude to ignore the people around you.”

  “I’m not ignoring you...” I frown as I hesitantly put my phone away.

  “What are we going to do about Maya?”

  “I’ll offer her a job,” I sigh, “leave it with me.”

  “Good,” he nods his head, “right. I’ve got to go.”

  “Oh right. Now you’ve got what you want?” I laugh.

  “Yes,” at least you can say my brother is honest, “there’s a girl waiting in my bed.” He’s still smirking, the bloody bastard. He gets to his feet, pulling on his suit jacket, “let me know how it goes with Maya.”

  It’s not a request. It’s a demand and it grates. “Yeah. Yeah. Whatever.” I wave him off before turning back to my drink. I down the rest of
my pint and check my phone.

  I’m not interested. Not in dinner. Not in a movie.

  I don’t want a moonlit walk along the beach.

  Trust me when I say there is nothing you could offer me

  that could possibly entice me to go on a date with you.

  Her response leaves me cold. There’s never been another girl in my life that’s been able to make me bleed the way she does. I won’t let her see it though.

  I won’t give up. I always get what I want in the end.

  Let her think I’m just messing with her. It’s safer that way. “Hey,” I look up as a girl with blonde hair sits beside me, “why are you sitting here all alone?”

  I check my phone once more for the reply that never seems to come, “my brother was here but he just left.” I give her my best smile. I look her up and down. She’s thin; almost too thin. Her eyes are a dark brown; almost like mud. She’s pretty sure and she’ll do for tonight, but she’s not Clara. It’s frustrating. I’d almost completely forgotten she existed before she came and started working at TRW. I’d finally gotten passed my teenage bloody obsession with her. I’d reached the point that when our mutual friends talked about her it had no effect on me at all... well almost.

  I put my phone in my pocket. Clara and I... there is no Clara and I. There never was. It’s all history; she’s just a girl I went to school with. But right now, there’s a pretty enough girl flirting with me and I’m almost ignoring her and for what? For a girl that hates me? I shake my head. I need a clear head, “can I get you a drink?” I don’t need a clear head. I need to get drunk.

  “Great... I’d love a mojito.” She’s smiling at me. She knows that this is all just a polite precursor to the moment when I fuck her. I get to my feet and get the girl her mojito and another beer for myself.

  When I get back to my booth I introduce myself properly, “hi. I’m Andrew.” I almost offer her my hand to shake. Instead I present her with her drink.

  “I’m Millie,” she smiles. She’s playing with her hair. She’s exactly the sort of girl I’ve always dated funnily enough. It’s a shame she’s not what I want now.