Torn

The fortune teller was wrong, I sniffed miserably. She had predicted a sparkling future with a dark haired man in my life. I had been confident it was Paul, but it seemed the old woman had made a gigantic error in her interpretation of the Tarot cards

It had been three days since I had heard from him; three long days since the email telling me we had been seen out together by his wife's friend and he needed a break from everything. This was more than enough time to conclude that he had made his choice and it did not include me.

Either that or she had castrated him and he had bled to death in a pool of gore.

Option two was looking pretty tempting... I just hoped it had been painful. It couldn't be any worse than the way I was feeling at this precise moment in time.

The bottle of vodka on the table before me was half empty, as was my stomach. I knew I should have eaten some dinner, but somehow I could find no enthusiasm for food. Even in the depths of my black depression, part of me imagined the glamour of my funeral and strived to create a suitably dramatic ending for my tortured soul. Wasting away from a broken heart seemed a fitting demise – I just hoped the bastard would then feel guilty about the callous way he had used me. It was an unlikely proposition though; he wasn't that sensitive.

I sobbed again and reached for a tissue. My arm knocked the bottle and it fell crashing to the floor, spilling its precious liquid all over the linoleum. Christ, I couldn't even do alcoholic poisoning right!

My head was reeling and I felt like death. I had intended to go out tonight. I had even gone as far as putting my party clothes on. But when it came to it, I just couldn't leave the house. Mandy had sighed in exasperation and left me to wallow in my misery. She had told me right from the beginning it would end in tears and she wasn't about to miss out on a night of clubbing because of my failed romance.

Nobody loves a know-it-all, I had retorted crossly. But she was right and we both knew it. I should have learned my lesson the first time round. He treated me badly then and still I took him back. Ten out of ten for stupidity...

Trying to quell the rising feeling of nausea, I lurched to my feet and stepped over the puddle of Smirnoff. Bloody expensive puddle, I thought irrelevantly. Balefully, I eyed my mobile sat on the worktop. It eyed me back and refused point blank to ring. Nobody loved me it seemed, least of all him.

"Fucking BASTARD!" I screamed pointlessly; he couldn't hear me. The sound echoed off the tiled wall and once again the room was silent but for the faint sound of next door's television.

I knew I should never have got involved with him. It was a mistake to believe that he would eventually choose to be with me. God what a fool I had been. I honestly thought he cared about me. All the bullshit about how badly she treated him, how he was so unhappy. It was all just a line. A line intended to arouse my sympathy and make me feel sorry for him.

And I did feel sorry for him. I wanted to make him feel better and naturally this involved sex. Not that it had done a lot of good. He still chose her over me. Better the devil you know, I concluded bitterly as I lurched into the living room on a cloud of vodka fumes.

The television wavered before my eyes. I debated turning it on and watching some inane crap – but I couldn't find the remote. Flopping down on the sofa, I thought about where I had gone wrong.

Was it when I replied to his text after nearly eighteen months? Or was it when I agreed to meet him again on the basis that I needed to see if I still had feelings for him? No, it was when I began to let my guard down and he slipped through my emotional firewall. From that moment I was doomed. I fell for him all over again and the writing was writ large on the wall – 'you will be fucked over big style'.

He was never going to leave her for me. He even fucking told me! But, being a typical woman, I ignored the obvious signs and persisted on writing my own happy ending.

I curled up miserably into a foetal ball and closed my eyes. The room was spinning and I felt sick to my stomach. The pain was so intense and I wondered if I would ever be able to move past this horrible moment in time. Love was never meant to hurt this much. Love was meant to be all white and fluffy. This was more like a vat of sulphuric acid thrown in my face – it hurt like hell and made me wish I was dead.

I must have passed out shortly after that nihilistic train of thought. The next thing I knew, the sun was shining directly on to my wan face and I was about to throw up. I scarcely made it to the bathroom in time. As the meagre contents of my stomach emptied into the toilet bowl I resolved never to drink again – ever.

"Coffee?" asked Mandy wryly as she stuck her head around the door. I nodded feebly and she vanished to flick the kettle on. God knew I needed more than coffee to make me feel better, but it was a start.

I splashed cold water onto my pasty complexion and looked at myself in disgust. My blonde hair was plastered to my head and my turquoise eyes were flat and dead. God I looked a state. How I hated him at that moment, but I hated myself more knowing he had driven me to such depths of self pity.

The smell of frying bacon slipped through the miasma of depression and a small twinkle of light flickered on in my brain. My stomach propelled me into the kitchen and Mandy smiled sympathetically.

"Eat this," she ordered and I immediately felt better. There was nothing like a bacon sandwich to restore one's faith in humanity.

* * *

A week passed and life went on. I felt like a zombie most of the time – functioning, but only on a superficial level. On the surface I was my usual efficient self at work, but beneath it all I was seriously losing the plot.

My heart was broken and I was scarcely able to see a light at the end of the tunnel. I knew all the clichés about time healing all wounds, but it felt like this particular wound was rapidly becoming gangrenous. If I had been able to cut my bleeding heart out, I would have.

Mandy was sympathetic to my desolation, but she knew there was very little she could do other than listen to my endless streams of diatribe. It was cathartic at least to spew all the poison out to someone who gave a damn.

"I thought he cared about me!" I wailed for the umpteenth time as we sat drinking coffee one evening.

"Rach, you should know by now men will say ANYTHING to get laid!"

"But I really thought he had changed this time..." I sniffed, looking away before the tears began to fall again.

Mandy sighed patiently. "It's not your fault you wanted to believe his bullshit," she said philosophically. "We all fall for it – we like to believe the best in men even when the fact they are total bastards is staring us in the face."

It was cynical, but true. I always saw the good in people. This probably explained why I was taken advantage of so often. Mandy on the other hand was the queen of cynicism. She never took a man at face value and always looked for an ulterior motive. Maybe this was why she always had men running in circles around her, when I on the other hand got shafted time and time again.

"That's it – I am not doing men any more!" I made this declaration passionately and Mandy bust out laughing merrily.

"Can I write this down for posterity?" she giggled. "You won't last five bloody minutes!"

"No, I mean it this time. No more men. I have had it with them – they are all wankers!" I honestly meant it too. I couldn't face the idea of dating again. The trouble was, I only wanted one man and if I couldn't have him, I didn't want anyone.

* * *

Jake, our neighbour, smiled at me when I stated my 'no men' policy again.

"Really?" He didn't look all that convinced and I was rather stung by the fact that he hadn't believed me.

"Yes! I am sticking to a life of celibacy from now on." I pulled a skimpy thong from the washing basket and pegged it onto the line. Well I won't need this anymore, I thought firmly. No more sexy underwear for me.

Jake shook his head and sighed. "What a terrible waste," he muttered before he turned away and walked back into his house. I watched him go in surprise; he had sounded rather sad for some reason.

Shaking my head in bemusement, I returned to my task. Anything mind-numbing to occupy my time was useful. If I had nothing to do, I ended up raking over all the pointless moments of my relationship with Paul. It didn't help one iota - it just left me feeling like shit again.

* * *

"Want to come next door for a drink later?"

I looked up in surprise at Mandy's question. "Why?" I asked curiously.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Does there need to be a reason?"

"Er... no, I guess not. But I didn't think you were that friendly with Jake?"

"He's a nice guy! I bumped into him at the corner shop and he mentioned he was having a few friends round later. He asked if we would like to pop round and I said yes. God knows you need cheering up, even if I don't!"

She was right. Despite my best efforts to appear happy, it sure as hell wasn't working. I seemed perpetually slumped in a quagmire of depression and even the guys at work had begun to notice.

* * *

"What's up with you?" Tony had asked in the kitchen the previous morning.

"Men," was my succinct response. I slammed the milk down on the worktop and proceeded to pour boiling water into all the mugs.

"Right..." Tony replied, hastily moving out of my way. "Well er... if you want to talk about it or anything, you know I'm here..."

My tears pricked with familiar tears again. If only it helped to talk about it. I felt like I had talked the whole subject to death and still it made no difference. I hadn't heard from him since that email. Nothing at all – not one text or phone call. My head knew it was over but my heart stubbornly refused to accept it. He was constantly on my mind and if I didn't think about him in the space of five minutes, I considered myself doing well.

I glanced down and realised the water had overflowed in one of the mugs and was currently dripping onto the floor. Sighing heavily I mopped up the mess. This was becoming ridiculous – if I didn't start to get a grip soon, I was likely to have a total breakdown!

* * *

"What time are we going round?" I asked Mandy, wondering if I could actually be bothered to wash my hair first.

"Oh, about eight ish. We don't have to stay for long – just long enough to check out the talent!"

God she was incorrigible! She had several blokes on the go and still she was keeping an eye out for replacements!

"I thought you were keen on Andy?" I asked curiously, forgetting all about my own problems for a minute.

"I am, but men are like tyres – it never hurts to have a spare or two!" she giggled and I snorted with laughter. It was hard to stay miserable around Mandy. She was too full of the joys of life. In many ways it was just as well she was here – I probably would have slit my wrists by now if she wasn't.

* * *

Jake's house was rather nicer than I had imagined it would be. Despite the fact we had been neighbours for several months, I had never been inside it before. We had exchanged greetings over the garden fence a few times and he had always been friendly, but I hadn't really paid him a lot of attention since he had moved in.

He was a Veterinary Surgeon at a local practice and he was out at work for much of the time. Mandy had eyed him up as soon as he bought the house next door, but I had been much too involved with Paul to really take any notice of eligible single men.

As far as I knew, Jake had no girlfriend. It was strange as he was actually a very good looking bloke when I finally took the time to notice. I studied him as he chatted with a tall, lanky guy in the kitchen while Mandy flirted outrageously with some other bloke. She stood twirling her long dark hair and fluttering her eye lashes. The poor man didn't stand a chance.

There were several bottles of beer on the worktop and I helped myself to one. Jake was waving his arms around animatedly as he recounted a story of an angry cow objecting to an examination. His arms were tanned and strong looking; his torso muscular beneath the tight tee-shirt. His brown hair was long enough to flop down over one blue eye beguilingly.

A faint sliver of desire curled inside my belly and for a sharp moment I forgot all about Paul.

"Rach, come over here and meet Steven!" Mandy gestured at me with a wink and broke my reverie. For a moment I was flustered, my skin prickling with an unexpected longing. I glanced back at Jake and noticed he was looking my way, an inscrutable expression on his face.

I turned away, suddenly unable to look at him. I felt my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and I wondered if anyone had seen me staring like an idiot. God I hoped not...

"Rach, Steven is single. He likes kids, animals and drives a BMW." I could have killed Mandy on the spot. She was blatantly match-making and it was the last thing I needed.

"Hello Steven," I managed to say through gritted teeth. "Pleased to meet you..." Politely we shook hands. His palm was moist and hot and I tried not to snatch my hand away rudely. Mandy was so dead when we got home soon. Naturally she melted away immediately and left me with Steven. He was pleasant enough, but I knew he was never going to set my world on fire.

As soon as I was able to, I managed to extricate myself from Steven and went to find Mandy. She was sat on the settee with Jake, talking animatedly about films they had both seen. For an inexplicable moment I was jealous.

They both looked up and smiled when I walked into to room. "Hey Rach, you okay?" Mandy asked with a smirk. "Getting along alright with Steven?"

"Yes, we had lots in common..." I glared at her and she had the shame to look slightly apologetic. "I'm going home now, are you coming?" I added with irritation.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." She grinned at me blithely and returned her attention to Jake. It appeared I was dismissed.

Crossly I stalked out of the room and slammed the front door behind me. I vaguely heard Steven saying something as I left, but I pointedly ignored him. There was no way on earth I was about to give him my mobile number or indeed anything. He had hinted about taking me out whilst we chatted in the kitchen, but I had resolutely ignored his veiled suggestions. He wasn't my type at all. He was not Paul and therefore I wasn't interested.

* * *

The television presenter waffled on about holiday destinations as I tuned out. Mandy had returned from Jake's house and had managed to completely ignore my hostile complaints about her meddling in my love life.

"Look – Steven is single and he's okay. I figured it would do you good to get out on a date. You might actually enjoy it? Besides, it's about time you stopped mooning around the house because of that dickhead, Paul."

I glared her crossly. "But I don't want to be taken out on a sympathy date! I'm not a fucking charity!"

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You're a great girl Rach, but you are wasting your time waiting for dickhead to realise that. He's made his bed so just leave him to stagnate in it and move on."

I didn't to hear that. What I wanted was for him to come back to me and a happy ever after. My tea cooled on the table as I stared morosely out of the kitchen window. Mandy sighed in exasperation and turned away. I wondered when she would give up on me – I pretty much had.

"Oh by the way, we're going to the cinema on Thursday night, if you want to come."

"We?" I asked. My was curiosity piqued despite my best intentions.

Mandy turned the hot tap on to wash some dishes and her reply was almost lost in the sound of water running into the bowl. I thought I heard the name 'Jake', but surely I was wrong.

"Did you say Jake?" I yelled at her.

She turned the water off and turned to face me with an innocent expression on her pretty face. "Erm yeah. Fancy it?" she grinned mischievously. "I thought it might be fun."

"Haven't you got enough men in your life at the moment?" Honestly, if she strung any more men along, she would have one for every day of the fucking week!

"Nope."

"Well I wouldn't want to cramp your style," I said irritably.

Mandy rolled her eyes at me and grinned. "It's not what you think okay? He's a nice guy, but I don't fancy him. We just happen to have similar taste in films. It would be a laugh if we all went out, we could go for a drink after the film. You might even have fun if you let yourself!"

"Okay - just as long as you aren't trying to set me up with Steven," I warned her with a scowl. There was no way on earth I was falling for that one...

* * *

Thursday evening, Mandy appeared in my bedroom doorway looking very pale. I glanced up from my pile of ironing with surprise. "What's up with you?"

"I don't feel well..." she said mournfully. "You're going to have to go without me tonight, I think I've caught a bug – sorry."

She really didn't look well. As much as I was suspicious of her motives for inviting me along tonight, I didn't think even Mandy would deliberately feign illness to further my love-life.

This meant that it was just Jake and me going to the cinema. I didn't know if I could go now. Suddenly it seemed a little too much like a date and I wasn't ready for that.

"Mandy..." my voice trailed off and I stared at my face in the mirror. I was being stupid wasn't I? Paul was officially history and there was no real reason why I shouldn't be dating another man. I couldn't put my life on hold forever. Besides, Jake was an attractive guy and I rather liked him if truth be told.

"Are you going or what?" Mandy asked slightly impatiently. She was looking rather green and I sincerely hoped she didn't throw up all over my carpet. It had not recovered from the incident last New Years and there was still a suspicious stain near the bed.

"Okay I'll go." I said firmly. "But I'm warning you now, if this is a set up, I will kill you!"

* * *

Much to my relief Steven didn't appear when I went round next door. Jake seemed remarkably unfazed by Mandy's sudden illness and I felt a twinge of suspicion. But there was very little I could do without seeming churlish. Anyway, to all intents and purposes, it was just a trip to the cinema with a friend; nothing more and nothing less.

The fact that Jake and I were hardly friends was irrelevant. I supposed it was as good a time as any to get to know him. We were neighbours after all. And he was rather attractive, (in an understated kind of way). Not that I was looking of course – I needed another man like I needed a hole in the head.

The film he took me to see was a French subtitled one. It was about the suicide of a husband and the subsequent effect on his family. It was hardly uplifting and given my recent state of manic depression, hardly the best choice of viewing entertainment.

Jake seemed enthralled though. He sat glued to the screen while I watched him surreptitiously out of the corner of my eye. He had a classic profile; straight nose and high forehead. Kind of like a Jane Austin hero, I thought dreamily. Then I mentally slapped myself. What in God's name was I thinking? I had only just gotten rid of one low life bastard - I hardly needed a replacement just yet!

My attention was drawn back to the screen by a wailing woman. I knew exactly how she felt. Men were the bane of my life too. She and I could both do with some Prozac to help us along - that and a life-times worth of immunity against useless fuckwits.

Eventually the film ended, slightly more cheerfully than it had begun. We headed outside into the cool night air. I suddenly felt awkward. If Mandy had been there, we would have headed straight to the pub and had a few drinks and a laugh about the awful film. But she was at home allegedly ill and now I was tongue-tied all of a sudden.