Page 32 of Mad About You

‘No shit!’

As Harriet’s taxi dropped her off at Cal’s, she heard raised male voices that seemed to be concerningly nearby and worryingly familiar. As she approached, she saw the front door was open, and discovered the altercation was happening in the hallway. She reached the door to see Jon blocking the space, Cal glimpsed beyond.

‘Jon!?’

He turned to see Harriet.

‘Oh thank God,’ Cal said, at the sight of her.

‘Jon, what are you doing here?’

‘Hi honey, I’m home,’ Jon sing-songed. He looked unsteady; even from this distance Harriet could see he was spangled. ‘When were you going to tell me you’d moved in with the other guy you haven’t told me about? Or, let me guess, you weren’t.’

‘He’s my landlord!’ Harriet said. ‘I pay Cal rent!’

‘Yeah, and the rest.’

Cal’s eyes opened wide in distaste and Harriet was mortified. She had a feeling Jon wouldn’t remember this in the morning, he was so far gone, but she had no such comfort. It was playing out in front of judgemental Cal Clarke, too. Infinity fuck’s sake. She had no choice but to take charge and claw back some meagre amount of dignity.

‘I can see you’re pissed but this is BEYOND. Get out of Cal’s house.’

‘The love nest,’ Jon said, with a leery smile. Harriet felt the remaining regard she had for her ex-boyfriend shrivel up and die.

‘Listen, you heard her. We’re not sleeping together,’ Cal said, and then quietly, but not quite quietly enough, ‘Psycho ex.’

Jon pivoted on his heel, drew back a fist and punched Cal in the face, Cal letting out a surprised yelp and staggering backwards, half sitting, half falling down, landing with a heavy thud on the staircase. Harriet let out a cry of shock and disbelief. Thankfully, Cal looked stunned but not aggressive, or likely to thump Jon back.

‘What the fuck, Jon!’ Harriet shouted, incredulity overriding her fear of causing more aggro. ‘What have you done?’

Cal, dazed, put a hand to his forehead. Blood trickled out from under his palm.

‘Are you OK?’ she said. Cal gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look in the upwards swivel from his visible eye.

Jon turned back to Harriet with the glazed, triumphantand slightly unfocused gaze of the temporarily deranged and totally wankered.

‘I did say I’d fight for you.’

Harriet lunged forward and grabbed Jon by the shirt, bundling him through the doorway and out of the house. She could smell the alcohol on him but she didn’t think he’d lay a finger on her, even in this state.

‘You realise you committed assault, right? And being drunk is no defence?’

‘If you aren’t having sex with him, why hide where you live?’ Jon said. Harriet cringed at this blunt accusation, in front of Cal. She betted the neighbours, this quiet summer evening, were having a ball.

She now easily imagined the build-up to this scene: Jon spending an hour or two firming his fevered jealous suspicions into cold certainties, helped along by his wine cellar, and eventually deciding to seek her (and him) out for a full confrontation and proof. Catching them at it. But howdidhe get her address?

‘I wasn’t avoiding anything; I’ve been gone two days. You’ve totally lost the plot.’

‘You didn’t tell me you were moving in with a man!’ Jon said.

‘Why does it matter?’

‘Women don’t move in with men they don’t know, do they?’

‘Well, I have.’

‘You must’ve desperately wanted shot of me,’ Jon said.

Cal muttered: ‘Can’t imagine why’ behind them and Jon spun on his heel.

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