It has been two weeks, fourteen days and three hundred and thirty six hours since I have been sacked from Chez Chez. I have just about resisted the urge to count the minutes and seconds too. Maths has never exactly been my strong point, but yet my head is still full of numbers.
A constant reminder of the exact time I had spent away from Brendan Brady.
Ever since Brendan had told me to leave, there's been no contact. Nothing. Not even a glance in the village. I'm sure I'm being paranoid. A man like Brendan doesn't avoid people, people avoid him. But in a place this small, I can't help but think that he's been dodging me.
The day after Amy picked up my wages for me, I finally couldn't keep it in any longer.
"What was he like?"
I could see that Amy didn't want to talk about it. As usual when it comes to discussing a certain moustached Irishman, she suddenly became uncharacteristically quiet.
"Ames?"
I had to know.
"What do you think he was like, Ste? He was the same as always. He was...Brendan."
It's always something of a sore subject when it comes to me and her. I can tell that she wants to shake me at times for still giving a damn about what Brendan's feeling.
Yet I still couldn't help but push it.
"But did he...you know...say anything?"
Amy gave me a look, which said that she knew exactly what I was asking.
"No. He didn't say anything about you."
Oh. Right. Well...good. That's good. I mean, it's what I expected. It's not like Brendan's going to crack the milk and cookies out and have a heart to heart with my ex. He's probably spoken less than ten sentences to her in his life. Two, if you exclude all the times he's spent threatening her.
I remember thinking all of this. But my face must have been telling another story.
"Ste.'"
Amy laid a hand on my shoulder, knowing that I needed it without me having to say a word.
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright. Not as if I'm bothered, is it?"
She smiled at me knowingly. I guess I don't have my macho I'm-so-strong act down quite yet. I'll have to work on that.
She said some other stuff after that. Her usual speech about how I'll be so much better off without him. I feel like we've been having this conversation on repeat for years now. I tend to tune it out by now, because I find that it's like some riddle with no meaning. The words make sense - stay away from Brendan Brady. But I can't use them. They're worthless to me.
"...He says he's feeling fantastic -"
I snapped back out of it then. Suddenly, something that I could register again,
"What? Brendan's feeling fantastic?"
"Well, that's what he said."
Amy looked like she believed these words of his about as much as she believes in me and him.
I think that's why I snapped. Not outwardly or anything. Amy didn't even notice. She went on with the day as usual, playing with Leah and Lucas. But inside, something clicked for me. Brendan fucking Brady was fucking fantastic. And I felt like screaming. Like punching something. Like tearing my eyes out. Because there I was,wanting to know if he was okay, if he felt guilty for the way he had treated me. And it turned out he was doing just fine. Better than fine.
And I really believed he was. Because Brendan's not exactly the type of guy who sings about the joys of life and how great the world is. So for him to actually say he was doing great...well, who's to say he wasn't?
And then my mind went there. Yes, there. To that place where I'd be resisting going for the past twenty four hours. Brendan, feeling great. Brendan, feeling great whilst kissing some guy. Shagging some guy. Some random guy, who doesn't know him like I do. Who doesn't know that he chews gum like people breathe air. Who doesn't know that sometimes, when it's two o'clock in the morning and he's let his guard down, he likes his palm to be stroked. He'd laugh, this guy, looking at a man like Brendan, and imaging him enjoying something so...innocent. And I'd hate for him to imagine, to know. Only I should know.
It was then that I decided. I wasn't going to beg for my job back. Amy getting my wages didn't really mean anything. I knew it would probably be three days, four days tops before I'd be back at the club, knocking at his office door, seeing if we could work something out. Because he's like a magnet, pulling me back to him.
I might have been fine, living that life. But then Amy said those words to me, knocking down all those walls. How can I crawl back to him, knowing that he's been with someone else? The thing with Macca made me sick to my stomach when I found out, and that was before me and Brendan had even kissed. I was with Noah because Brendan didn't want me...not in the right way, anyway. But chose someone else over him, when he's offering me the world? Never. So how can he be with someone else when I'm offering him the same thing?
So here I am. Counting the days since I lost my job, since I saw him. I don't think I've ever felt so...strange. My entire body is aware of him. That's he's alive. And I don't know how that's even possible. Out of sight, out of mind, right? But he's in me, in the core of me. Unshakeable.
I wake with my arm around the pillow, around where his body should be. I find myself licking my lips, like all those times in the past when the anticipation was building for him to kiss me. I plan comebacks in my mind for him, for his teasing. He's invaded every part of my life, and yet it seems like I've barely touched any part of his.
Maybe this is finally my chance. My ticket out. Perhaps this is what it takes for us to make the break. To hurt each other so much that in the end, we have no choice. We have to let go.
I know that if I ever stand a chance of surviving without him, I have to find a new job. Something secure, which will keep me from landing on his doorstep in the middle of the night. The world - or rather, Tony Hutchinson - must have known that Brendan was going to be an asshole in record time, because he's put the perfect opportunity right into my lap.
A new coffee shop.
Okay, so it's not exactly classy. But then again, neither was Il Nosh. And no offense to Chez, but it wasn't going to win any awards anytime soon.
I've looked in the window of Tony's new place to see if there are any vacancies for a week now - ever since I realised that having a cut salary is infinitely better than Amy reminding me that if I don't find work soon, we'll have to go and live in Manchester with her dad Mike. That got me moving on the job front pretty fast. For reasons less to do with Manchester, and more to do with Mike. Amy says that me and her working side by side wasn't exactly what she wanted, but she came round to the idea. Which is why I'm here now, in front of an overdecorated countertop, advertising lots of things with the word 'frap' in front of them.
"Get Tony for me, won't you Amy?"
Amy looks like she's wrestling with the coffee machine. And losing. Badly.
"Now's not really a good time -"
"Amy, I'm not going to move in with your dad."
"So?"
"So, there's only one more alternative. You, me and the kids are out on the streets by next month begging for cash."
She rolls her eyes, but the message sticks.
"Tony!"
I'm surprised the glass of the coffee machine doesn't break from her pitch.
"What?"
Ah. There he is. My old boss. No, not that one. The other one. The sane one. You know, the one who I haven't had sex with?
"Hi Tony."
"You alright, Ste? Come to see the missus?"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Got a minute?"
Tony beckons past the horde of customers who have now descended on Amy, round to the kitchens.
Phase one is now complete. I have got him to agree to speak to me. Now I just have to actually work out what to say. Over a year of steady employment at Chez Chez hasn't exactly left me with a lot of confidence in job interviews. Especially when I got my last job through blackmailing the boss.
"So, what can I do for you, Ste?"
Here goes nothing.
"I was wondering if you had any vacancies going?"
His face drops. I think he had it in his mind that this would be less of a me-begging-for-work conversation, and more of a -thanks-for-employing-Amy catch up.
"Ste, I've just hired about four people -"
"Who?"
"Well, excluding Amy, I've got two girls who've worked in cafes for years, Jono -"
"Jono?" Is he serious? "That lad from the sixth form?"
"You've met him?"
"I've seen him in here. I thought he was one of the customers. No offense to him Tone, but the lad couldn't walk in a straight line with a pair of drinks if it killed him."
"Now, Ste -"
"Look, I know Amy's working here too. But it wouldn't be awkward in any way. You know how well me and her get on."
He looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here. He may like to make out that he's the next Alan Sugar in the making, but turning people down is not Tony's strong point.
"I really wish I could help you, but..."
He turns to leave. Time to pull out the big guns.
"Come on Tone, it would be like Il Nosh all over again."
He stops. Any mention of his former restaurant, burned to the ground by his own flesh and blood, and he turns to putty.
"What do you mean?"
He's suddenly interested. I've got him.
"You and me, back together again. You as the chef, me helping you out. You can't tell me that that Jono kid knows how to make a burger like I do."
"Well, we are trying to expand into meals here."
I can see the pound signs in his eyes. He's dreaming of Il Nosh, part II.
"Wait a second." The pound signs vanish. "What happened to you working in Chez Chez?"
I feel my stomach tighten. I remind myself to breath, in and out, as lightly as possible, so he won't notice a thing.
"It was time to move on."
I'm surprised I even manage to give him an answer, the way my heart's hammering.
"I don't know, Ste. If you've left the club to come here, then Brendan's not going to be very happy with me poaching his staff."
The mention of his name hurts me more than even I could have imagined.
"Brendan" I force myself to say it "Doesn't scare me. The truth is, he let me go."
Admitting this to another person is humiliating. Amy was different. I couldn't hide something like that from her. But I've worked hard over the years for people like Tony to only ever see me at my best.
"Let you go? But I thought you and Brendan were..."
I look at him. He closes his mouth. I hope he sees the wordless thanks written across my face.
"The job's yours, Ste."
"What?"
"You can start today, if you like. Someone's called in sick."
"Jono?" I guess.
He stops himself from laughing.
'Jono."
I forgot how much I really do like Tony Hutchinson.
"Thank you. You won't regret this."
"I know I won't,"
We go back round to the front, where Amy looks about five years older than the last time I saw her.
"Got the job?"
I grin at her.
"Here."
She chucks me an apron.
"I could really use a hand with this lot."
I look at the line of customers, mostly students in their lunch breaks. Most of them I've never spoken two words to. They don't know anything about me or my past.
This is perfect. A clean slate.
I get to work.