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Come Undone
I don’t do this very often. Pretty much never, in fact. The first time was just a petty revenge; I lifted some cash from his wallet, thinking that’ll teach you to be bad in bed. The next time it happened, I stole a pack of cigarettes and a cheap-looking sovereign ring. I’ve done it barely a handful of times, honest. But it’s this little habit that got me into the biggest trouble of my life. If I had acted like a normal girl and just gone home after my latest one night stand, everything would have been fine. But instead I waited for the guy to fall asleep and then went rifling through his wallet. And what I found made my blood run cold; a driving license, identifying tonight’s conquest as Matthew Mayfair. For a second I couldn’t believe it – he looked so different. I stared at the picture on the license and then at the man sleeping on the bed. How could I have slept with him and not realised who he was?
He stirred in his sleep and I began to panic. Had he recognised me? He’d seemed quite drunk; he probably mistook me for one of the other party girls who like to go dancing at Hades. I was instantly overcome with the urge to get out of there. Putting his wallet back in his jacket, I began to look around for my clothes. After a minute I’d located everything except my underwear, and as the sense of panic in me grew I gave up – I pulled on my top, skirt and shoes, and silently let myself out of the apartment.
I kept trying to put him out of my mind, but sometimes I couldn’t help conjuring him up in the quiet moments before sleep. It hurt too much to think about my family, but the memory of Matthew, of the way he used to be, was comforting in its own way. A ghost from the life of a girl who doesn’t exist anymore.
A week or so passed, and I began to think that maybe my accidental tryst with Matthew could stay just that – a fluke that would never come up again. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. I avoided Hades on my next couple of nights out, and when I finally went there again, tired from a day of soulless office work and more than a little drunk, I’d almost completely forgotten about my last time there.
So of course, as luck would have it, I saw Matthew approaching me through the crowd within half an hour. I self-consciously ran a hand through my hair – when we last knew each other, it had been long and auburn, now it was shorter and brown. Five years is a long time – maybe he wouldn’t recognise me after all?
“I have something that I think belongs to you,” he told me, pulling my Friday night thong out of his pocket. “You left this behind in your rush to leave.”
I felt my face warm and redden. Grabbing the underwear from his outstretched hand, I stuffed it into my handbag and turned to go, but he touched my arm and the simple contact made me freeze.
“I’m sorry,” he continued, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just wanted to tell you that I had an amazing time the other night. And if you like, I’d love to take you out sometime.”
“I don’t know…” I mumbled, afraid that the sound of my voice would trigger his memory.
“Just dinner, nothing more?” He smiled at me and I suddenly remembered the crush I had on him when I was eleven and he was thirteen. I tried to say no, but the word wouldn’t quite come out. This was too tempting, too seductive – a man from my old life, a chance to know him and for him to know me as something other than the girl across the street…
“Oh, go on,” he mock-begged. “Please? Emily?”
The moment he said my name, I felt something inside me tighten. Nobody’s called me Emily for years – it’s been Em ever since I came to the city. And how stupid must I have been, to think that a different hairstyle would fool him?
“God…” I whisper. “You recognise me.”
“Of course I do,” he stepped closer and whispered in my ear; “I couldn’t believe my luck the other night. Who thought little Emily Murphy would grow up to be so good in bed?”
I laughed despite of myself, all coy and flattered like a schoolgirl. This might not be such a disaster; he wasn’t asking me about home.
“Okay,” I acquiesced, smiling reluctantly.
“I have a confession,” I said quietly. “I didn’t leave home. I ran away.” Matthew was quiet for a moment, and then said:
“I know. And I have a confession too.”
“What?”
“I’m here to take you back.”
I sat up, mortified.
“Excuse me?”
“Your parents, they sent me to find you. To bring you home.”
I laughed. I couldn’t bring myself to believe this – it had to be a joke. But Matthew didn’t crack up with me; he just looked at me with his steely eyes that all of a sudden looked nothing like those of the boy I remembered.
“I… I don’t understand.” I got out of bed and pulled on my dress. I could feel panic slowly growing in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m sorry, Emily,” he got out of bed and put on his jeans. “I didn’t want to deceive you. It’s just that when I saw you at the club last week, you looked so different, so grown-up… I couldn’t help wanting you. And again, tonight…”
“That hardly makes it alright, Matt!” A sick thought occurred to me. “Are you getting paid for this?” He stayed silent, and that was answer enough for me. “You slept with me, twice.” He pulled a t-shirt over his head, and was it just me or was he becoming more and more nonchalant about this? “That must have been a real bonus,” I sneered, “getting to have sex on the job.”
“Calm down,” he said. “Now that it’s all out in the open, we both know where we stand, don’t we?”
I felt ill. This whole time, he’d been playing me – our ‘chance’ meeting at Hades, the date, he was just reeling me in. His eyes, the eyes that had frightened me with their intensity during sex, they didn’t belong to the boy I lived across the street from. Something awful had happened to Matthew Mayfair, and it changed him. Turned him into this cold bastard who… I didn’t even want to think about what we had done together.
“So what happens now, exactly? You just track me down, you bloody stalk me, and expect me to come with you? To do what you want? I’ve made a life for myself here.”
“A life?” He walked around the bed and stood less than a foot away from me. “You’re a twenty-something temp who goes out to bars by herself and steals from her one night stands. That’s not a life, Emily, that’s a nightmare. Before you know it you’ll be an old West End brass who asks for money up front instead of thieving behind peoples’ backs.”
I slapped him. I slapped him hard.
He responded by grabbing my face with one hand and pushing me back against the wall with another.
“Make no mistake, angel, I’m not here to play games. I’m here to take you home whether you like it or not.”
It made me ashamed that even though I was afraid of him now, I was still aroused.
“What are you going to do? Tie me up and drive me there in the boot of your car? Get real, Matthew. You might be a bastard, but you’re not mental.”
“Let’s see about that, shall we?” He threw me onto the bed and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. I could hear muffled footsteps as he left the flat, and then the double click of two locks. God only knew what he was going out to get…
I sat on the edge of the bed for what felt like an eternity, resisting the urge to break down and cry. Last week, my odd little life had been everything I wanted it to be – secure and free of complications. Truth be told, I had next to no friends, but I was more than happy that way. A white-hot fury overtook me – how dare he try and take me away? What right did he have? On impulse I went to the window and looked down – I was at least three floors from the ground, a jump would break my legs if not kill me. I went out into the main room of the flat, and checked all the windows, but each one was locked. God, this was crazy. The night started out with dinner in an Italian restaurant and now I was considering escape options.
“Trippy,” I muttered to myself. And then I had an idea.
“I thought maybe we could talk,” I said, offering him a glass. “Sorry, I went through your booze cabinet. I was incredibly freaked out, obviously – needed a drink.”
“That’s okay,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “I’m glad you’re a bit calmer.”
“I’m sorry about before,” I lied, “but it all came as a huge shock. First seeing you again after all these years, then hearing what you were really here for…” I took a gulp of my wine and pretended to wince. “God, that’s a bit bitter isn’t it?”
He nodded in agreement.
“It must be one of the cheap bottles that the last tenants left,” he said. “I’ve only been here a few weeks, haven’t had a chance to stock up – I’m more of a spirits person myself.”
“Alcohol is the only drug I indulge in now,” I said, sighing. “A month or so ago, I bought some pills from a courier who delivers to our office. I took one on a night out, ended up blacking out for the whole night – woke up in A&E. They must have been packed full of makeup powder or plastic, you hear all sorts of horror stories about what they put in ecstasy, don’t you.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Matthew said, becoming visibly more relaxed. “I’ve never touched E.”
“Well,” I said, standing up, “you have now.”
He frowned, but I noticed that it took him a second longer than usual to do so.
“See, I’m a bit of a hoarder,” I told him, taking a step sideways – towards the front door. “Lots of women go for months on end without emptying their handbags. I was so nervous when you left me here earlier, I went rummaging through mine for some chewing gum or a cigarette – anything to calm me down. And I found four tablets that I’d completely forgotten about.”
Realisation dawned on his face and his features slowly contorted into an expression of anger. His responses were definitely slowing down.
“What happened to you, Matthew?” I asked, taking another step towards the door. “I really want to know, before I go. What made you the way you are? You were so different when I knew you before.”
“You bitch…” He slurred, getting up and stumbling over to me. He tripped and collapsed onto the carpet, unconscious. Not wasting a second, I ran for the door and was out of the building within a minute.
Out on the street, I didn’t slow down – the uneven tarmac stung my bare feet and the night air was freezing, but a feeling of exhilaration that I had only ever experienced once before filled me. In my head, I wondered how long it would take to get to my flat and pack a small bag, get all my money together, and find a hotel for the night. I’d have to find a new place to live – maybe even leave the city. I smiled to myself as a taxi swerved to avoid hitting me. Jumping back onto the curb, I went in a straighter line but never slowed down.
And just like that, I was back to being seventeen. Running again.
A/N: This was inspired heavily by the work of Pedro Almodovar, in particular 'Tie Me Up' and 'Bad Education'.
