2
Being nosey was a trait he'd inherited from his father, apparently.
Nikki had discovered this characteristic the first time he'd come over to her flat – she'd nipped out for a pint of milk, and returned to find him searching through her cupboards, assessing her eating habits. They'd laughed about it of course, but since then, she'd made a conscience effort to not leave him alone anywhere near the things she didn't want him knowing about. True, he was her best friend, but there were some items in her flat that were definitely not Harry friendly. Undoubtedly, one day he probably would end up stumbling across her underwear drawer and childhood collection of Dr Who figurines (she wasn't sure which would be more embarrassing) but for the moment, they were among the things that she wanted to remain private.
She didn't even dare think about what would happen if he found the box under her bed.
The drunken early morning call should have stirred him from his sleep and therefore angered him, but it just so happened that night he'd stayed up to watch a film on BBC 2 – and so, didn't mind going to pick her up too much.
As he helped her up the stairs to her apartment, he tried to figure out how many times he'd received a similar call since he'd known her. He couldn't work out an exact figure, so instead settled on trying to work out how many times he'd actually responded to her slurred requests to be taken home. In the end, he settled on 100%. He couldn't decide if this proved his loyalty as a friend or just how pathetic he was to have no life of his own.
He stayed in the kitchen after leaving her in the bedroom. He'd never offered to help her change out of her clothed – most of the time she seemed to just strip them off and replace them with nothing, or sleep with them on.
As usual, after finishing off the coffee he had made for himself, he went in to check on her.
And, as usual, she was sleeping soundly. He pulled the duvet up over her, so it covered her naked frame, not allowing himself any time to admire her in the moonlight, before beginning the routine of neatly piling up her clothes. One time she'd woken up in the morning, stood on a randomly discarded, expensive, favourite shoe and snapped the heel straight off; he had tidied up after her ever since. That night, he was only able to find one of the ridiculously high stilettos she had been wearing. She was definitely wearing 2 when he helped her out the car. He searched the rest of the apartment and the stairway, thinking she may have kicked one off without him noticing, but found nothing.
Back in the bedroom, he went onto his knees and felt underneath the bed.
Sure enough, there it was, but it was caught on something. He pulled on it, and out with it came a large box, sealed shut with a delicately tied ribbon. He untangled the shoe heel from the red ribbon, in the process accidentally knocking off the lid, to reveal that it contained a large collection of what looked like notebooks.
He could have easily popped the lid back on, pushed it back where it belonged and left. But he was Harry.
They didn't seem to be in any kind of order, with no dates printed on the outside covers, so he just pulled out the one at the top and started reading.
25th August 2006
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
He can go to America for all I care. He'll enjoy it. I'll enjoy it. He'll finally be off my case. Stupid man. Wish he'd get the next flight out there.
He didn't continue with that entry.
He paused for a while, trying to force himself to stop. He knew it was wrong to be reading her diaries – it was the worst invasion of privacy he could think of. He placed the notebook back into the box and closed the lid.
He stared at it for a while, begging his legs to move and make him stand up off the floor, to leave the box alone. But the urge to find out what else she had written about him was too large. She was asleep anyway, he reasoned – she'd never find out, no harm would be done. He picked up another book.
4th January 2009
Was preparing for this entry to be incredibly angry, but Harry came round tonight and cheered me up. Even agreed to watch The Notebook, which is a plus. Could pass off crying as crying at film, not crying over ridiculously pathetic waste of space ex-boyfriend (Harry kindly refrained from any 'I told you so') Truth is, haven't ever cried at film – just not capable of doing it. Not even English Patient.
He brought pizza and wine, so New Year's resolutions down the drain.
Though do appreciate being cheered up, doesn't help much, as only proves how bad all men are in comparison to him. Wish he'd take me out properly some time.
Pull yourself together. May as well start writing 'Mrs Harry Cunningham' in love hearts like a teenager.
His breathe caught in his throat as he read the last line. He skipped forward a few pages.
18th September 2009
He's not perfect, but as Harry pointed out, far better than all the others. Also, lasted longer than all others. Could be marriage material. Going out to theatre tomorrow – hope it's a musical and not some stupid play. Harry would know would prefer musical.
Must stop comparing to Harry. Will never be married to Harry.
He struggled to remember which boyfriend she could have been referring to, but it didn't really matter, he'd been and gone. Harry brushed his fingers over the last words; she'd written about marriage and him in the same sentence. He would have collapsed in a heap on the floor if hadn't already been sat against her bed. He searched through the remaining pages, scouring them for his name – reading only the parts that applied to him.
Harry brought his new girlfriend for drinks tonight. She's not going to last long. Wish he'd just find someone his own age.
Harry needs to shave.
Harry needs a haircut.
Dinner with Harry and his Mum, very nice. Think Mrs C may be onto me though, raised eyebrow suggestively. Though, maybe could be imagining it.
Harry needs a haircut.
...would be v. depressing if alone. Wonder what Harry's doing for Christmas?
Harry with girlfriend for Christmas. May accept nice offer from Leo and Janet.
Must remind him get haircut before presenting self to girlfriend's family.
He reached for a different book.
1st January 2011
Resolutions:
No chocolate
No spirits
Finish all reports before deadline
Find good guy and when found, do not compare to Harry
Stop school girl crush on best friend
He heard her move, and quickly put the book away, and reached for another one, hoping it would be the most recent.
1st January 2012
No chocolate
No spirits
Finish all reports before deadline
Go to gym at least 3 times week
Practice cello more
He tried not to feel too downhearted at her failure to mention him. She'd obviously succeeded at resolution number 5 from 2011.
"Harry?" She mumbled, forcing him to stop wallowing in self pity, close the diary and return the box to its home, under her bed.
"Go back to sleep," He whispered gently, leaving the room before the guilt and sadness on his face could give him away.
I'm aware that these two chapters don't seem to link at all, but I'm hoping the next one might sort of bring them together. Maybe. Thank you as always!