Stuck with You: the perfect feel-good romantic comedy!

I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Rachel. She’d been at work half an hour ago, arranging flowers and chatting to customers. Now she was wrestling bin bags out of her car and dragging them upstairs. I wanted to empty Rachel’s car first so she could go home, but she insisted on staying until my car was done too, and then stayed for a cup of tea and a chat with my mum and dad. It was both strange and comforting to be at home. I sat on the sofa, stroking Muriel the cat and feeling grateful my parents had just accepted me back without any fuss at all. I was lucky to have them.

I felt buzzy, like I’d drunk too much caffeine, and my mind couldn’t settle on just one thing. While everyone else chatted, I kept wondering what Alex’s new woman was like. Was she very different to me? Was she thinner and prettier? Was she more interesting? Did she make him laugh? I felt a pang in my stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made him laugh. When had it all gone wrong for us? Why didn’t he like me any more? What was wrong with me?

‘So, what’s happened with Alex, Elena?’ Dad asked, dunking his biscuit into a steaming mug that said Head Gardener on the side. Rachel stopped talking to my mum and stared at me. ‘I take it he knows you’ve moved out?’

‘I told him I was moving out this morning,’ I said, stroking Muriel’s black and white fur with quick swoops of my hand. She narrowed her eyes and hissed. ‘After he told me he was seeing someone else.’

‘Who?’ Mum demanded, as though she might know the girl herself.

‘Someone at work. I don’t know who. He said I didn’t know her. I suppose I should have asked more questions, but I just walked away.’

There was a collective intake of breath and three sets of eyes gazed at me in shock. The soggy end of my dad’s biscuit, which had paused halfway to his mouth, suddenly broke off and plopped back into his tea. He didn’t even blink.

I shrugged. ‘We haven’t been getting on that well anyway,’ I said, stiffly.

‘But didn’t you argue about it? Surely you must have given him some stick? Thrown a few plates? Wailed a bit?’ Mum frowned at me.

‘Not really. I just went to work. I suppose it shows how dead our relationship had become.’

‘Oh well, I suppose you’ve never been one for drama.’ Dad sniffed, while Mum moved her head around like a chicken, looking bewildered. ‘There’s no point yelling and shouting if the outcome’s just going to be the same. Let him go. I always did think there was something off about him,’ Dad muttered. ‘Too pretty by half. Too interested in himself. What kind of man moisturises?’

Rachel looked at him with interest. ‘Plenty of men moisturise these days. You should try it, Derek.’

My dad grunted. ‘Don’t need no bleeding moisturiser,’ he muttered. I could tell by the murderous glint in his eye that he was thinking dark thoughts about Alex.

I stared silently at the brown liquid in my mug. My throat ached with unshed tears and I felt empty and sore inside. Maybe a good cry would make me feel better? But half of me still couldn’t believe this was happening, and the other half felt like I had no right to be upset about a relationship I’d known was pretty much over anyway. Maybe this was just hurt pride I was feeling. Really, it should be a relief to be out of that flat and away from Alex. At least I didn’t need to worry about what mood he was going to be in when he finally came in from work, or what sarcastic or disapproving comment he might make next.

Rachel glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and got to her feet. ‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘Patrick’s ringing me at six.’

All three of us went to the door to wave her off, then returned to the lounge. My parents still looked troubled by the unwelcome news.

‘Thank you for letting me stay,’ I said as soon as Mum opened her mouth to say something. ‘I’ll go and finish unpacking my stuff.’

I left her in the kitchen and climbed the stairs to my childhood bedroom. Instead of unpacking, I sat down on the bed and gazed around at the old familiar space. It had never occurred to me I’d end up living back here. I’d gone away to university at eighteen, come back at twenty-one, met Alex a year later and moved in with him. I remembered how claustrophobic I’d found living back at home with my parents after all of the freedom I’d had at uni. How would it be this time round, I wondered. Would they drive me mad? Maybe I’d drive them mad? It felt a bit like defeat to be moving back home at my age, like I’d failed at being a grown-up. Still, I was grateful they had let me come back. Imagine if they’d downsized and there was no longer any room for me. Imagine having to stay living with Alex until I had somewhere to go. It didn’t bear thinking about. At least this way I had time to search for my own flat.

Collapsing sideways on the bed, I rested my head on my pink-checked pillowcase and thought about Alex. A sharp pang of loss sliced through me and I drew in a deep breath. It was strange to think we’d never eat together again or sit together in the evening watching TV; that we’d never share the same bed. It was the loss of these small things that made my heart jolt. They’d been my way of life for the past two years, and now I had to find a completely new way to live. I told myself it would be new and exciting; an ideal opportunity to make a fabulous new life. But I also knew it might not be that easy. I might never find a flat I could afford to rent on my own. I might never meet anyone new. I might never move out of my parents’ house again. Tears slid from beneath my closed eyelids and seeped into my pillow. Wrapping my arms around myself, I let myself cry, falling asleep eventually to the whirr of next door’s lawnmower and the smell of newly mown grass.

***

Mum brought me another cup of tea a little while later. I felt the dip of my bed as she sat down next to me and laid a gentle hand on my leg. I blinked up at her, eyes gummy and hair stuck to my face.

‘You haven’t got very far with your unpacking,’ she said, looking around the room at my stuff, which was strewn all over the place. My suitcase sat next to the wardrobe, still full and unpacked.

‘Mmm… sorry,’ I muttered.

‘It doesn’t matter, my love. You do it in your own time.’ She chuckled, gazing around. ‘It just looks like how your room was when you lived here anyway.’

Raising myself up onto my elbow, I reached for the tea on my bedside table. Sunlight slanted through the open window and I could hear birds chirping and scratching in the eaves above. It took me right back to my childhood. The tea tasted good, hot and wet on my dry tongue.

‘So, have you spoken to Alex yet? Do you think he’ll have discovered you’ve left?’

‘He usually doesn’t get back until eight.’ I rolled onto my back, staring up at the round paper lampshade above my bed.

‘Your dad’s spitting mad, you know. We both are. I just can’t believe it.’ She patted my leg.

‘There’s no point feeling angry about it,’ I said. ‘We were over anyway.’

‘Well, that’s no excuse. He needs to tell you it’s over before moving on to someone else. Although, goodness knows why he’d want to cheat on you! You’re kind, clever, beautiful.’

I gave her a small, sad smile. ‘You’re biased, but thank you.’

‘It’s toad in the hole for tea. I hope that’s all right.’

‘Lovely. Thanks.’

‘I bet you haven’t eaten today, have you?’

‘I had breakfast.’

Mum patted my leg again. ‘Well, tea won’t be long now. Do you want any help unpacking your stuff?’

‘No, I can do it. Thanks anyway.’

Getting up, I heaved my suitcase onto the bed and opened the wardrobe doors. There were still some clothes in there from before I moved out. An old denim jacket and the bridesmaid’s dress I’d worn to my cousin’s wedding. I pushed them to the end of the rail before unzipping my suitcase and hanging everything up. It didn’t take as long as I thought it would, and just over an hour later all my clothes were put away in the wardrobe and drawers, books neatly stacked on my old bookshelf, lamp and ornaments arranged on the dresser, and dressing gown hung on the back of the door. All that was left was a big pile of toiletries, waiting to go into the bathroom. It was oddly satisfying to have everything sorted so quickly and I looked around the room, amazed I’d managed to cram everything in. Putting the stuff away had made me feel less displaced and more positive. This was my home, and I had happy memories of growing up here. My parents were great, and although I’d found them stifling after university, I had a sneaking suspicion they’d be far easier to live with than Alex had been recently.

Chapter Five (#ulink_b28277b1-7d01-5e8a-92cc-f51d19f95844)

It was strange getting ready for work in my parents’ house. Dad was still asleep, but Mum got up to make me breakfast as soon as she heard me moving about. I felt bad I’d woken her but also incredibly grateful. She also made my lunch, wrapping a chicken and mayonnaise roll in tin foil and placing it in my dad’s sandwich box with a Penguin and a packet of roast beef Monster Munch. It was the best gift ever.

‘Thank you,’ I said, humbly, as she opened my handbag and placed the box inside. Then she kissed me goodbye and waved me off at the door.

It was lovely and moving all at once. I felt like I’d gone back in time and should be going to school, not work.

I parked in my usual spot in the office car park and opened the car door. It was another lovely spring morning, with blue sky and sunshine, birds singing in the trees. A cool breeze rustled the blossom above my head and petals floated down around me, settling in my hair.

Sonya, the girl on reception, waved cheerfully as I entered the building, and I smiled and waved back. Then my colleague Ann appeared behind me, brushing at my shoulders and chuckling about me looking like I’d just got married or something.

‘Nothing could be further from the truth,’ I said with a wry smile.

‘Ooh!’ Ann gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t think!’ Obviously word had got around about why I’d left early yesterday.

‘Don’t worry, Ann. I’m fine.’

I went to my desk and sat down.

‘Morning, Elena!’ Hilary boomed over the partition. She’d had her hair done and the frizz had been transformed into giant sausage-like curls all over her head. I blinked up at her in amazement.

‘Morning, Hilary. You’ve… you’ve had your hair done, I see.’