Page 36 of Mad About You

‘I seriously doubt it. Our split was very recent and Jon’s not the womanising type.’

‘Hmmm. Counter-intuitively, I’ve found being excessively paranoid and a cheater tends to go together. They’re judging you by their own standards.’

This felt true; in fact, Harriet knew it to be true in her own past: the flex of accusing someone of your own bad behaviour. Still, she failed to imagine Jon doing such a thing, even if he’d not been so in love with her. He was a moral person who had a very developed sense of what was ‘not on’. On a practical level, he was barely on social media, never seemed to cling to his phone, so unless he was having it off with someone at work over the range cooker in the kitchen, chances to meet other women were scarce.

‘I think it’s more that he didn’t see this coming, didn’t really understand me in the first place.’ Harriet let out a sad sigh, thinking this was as much her fault for not really trying to be understood. ‘Instead of figuring it out by spending some time in his own head, he’s spun off into some movie idea of how he thinks a heartbroken ex would behave. He thinks I’m going to realise he must really love me, to go this far. I feel so bad for him, but …’

Harriet paused; this was pretty insensitive when Cal had been hit by him. Worse was the way Cal was looking at her, as a sort of pitiable curiosity.

‘Also,’ she said, in ‘reasserting herself’ tone, ‘Next week I’ll start looking for somewhere else to live. First the weddingcoincidence, now this. I don’t think we were meant to house share,’ Harriet said.

Cal’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Er …’ He hesitated in that precise way people do when offered something they definitely want, but seizing upon it is unseemly. ‘If you’re sure?’

That was all the hint Harriet required.

‘Yes, absolutely,’ she said, firmly. ‘No hard feelings. We weren’t to know Leeds was this small, hah.’

‘No rush,’ Cal said. ‘I won’t advertise the room until you’re set to go.’

‘Thanks.’

Harriet sensed him casting about for something to soften the fact she’d said, ‘I’ll leave’ and Cal had said, ‘ooh yes please’.

‘Hmmm … so far in my landlording career, I’ve encountered nudity and violence. What’s left on the eighteen-rating criteria?’ he said, after a pause.

‘Injury detail,’ Harriet said, pointing at Cal’s face.

He winced. ‘Scenes of a sexual nature from the next one? Oh God.’

They smiled, an easing between them.

Her promising to go had lifted the curse of awkwardness, although in the following seconds she remembered Kristina’s scream, and hardened again. It would’ve been so much better for both of them if she’d never known about that. Never mind.

A bat flitted past in the blue-dusk.

‘What is Cal short for, by the way? Callum? I realise I don’t know,’ Harriet said, as they walked back into the house.

‘Calvin,’ he said, taking his shades off, rolling those intense pale green eyes. ‘Want to know why? It’s fucking shameful.’

‘Go on …?’

‘My mum lovesBack To The Future, especially the bit where Marty gets called Calvin because he’s in Calvin Klein pants.’

She broke into a wide grin. ‘That’s great.’

‘Is it though?’ Cal said. ‘It’s also a film where the mum crushes on her son.Cool.’

‘Calvin. I like it.’

‘Forgive me if I don’t trust your taste,’ Cal said, with a smile, and she felt a little chill in his palpable disdain at her grubby life.

Duvet drawn up to her chin in bed, Harriet scrolled down to the FLEASLAGS group on her WhatsApp and typed.

Jon turned up at my house uninvited, claiming I was hiding my location from him, and PUNCHED the house mate / landlord, Cal, accusing us of having an affair. A SUNDAY MOOD.

Lorna

YOU WHAT

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