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The Bad Thing

A Tale of Two Halves...

By Kate EdwardsPublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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Helen

I’d known Tom for ages before he asked me out. We used to work together at a pub down the road from where I lived in Bolton- 'The Blundell’. He was on the bar; I was a waitress, and whenever he thought I wasn’t watching he’d be looking at me. I could practically feel his eyes burning into my back most of the time. Everyone kept telling me how much he fancied me, always talking about me, asking if I was working whenever he came in. I mean sure, it was flattering, because he was two years older than me, and I was only sixteen and at the girls’ school studying for my AS Levels. I didn’t talk to him much at first, but I found out from some of the other girls at work that he was at the high school in town, and that he was studying music and played the piano. I like a guy who is musical. And I suppose he was good looking in a way, with floppy blonde hair that kind of fell into his eyes, which were blue, but I didn’t find this out until much later because he wore black square-framed glasses, you know, the cool kind, trendy designer style specs, and his eyes weren’t that easy to see behind them.

Anyway, we got chatting one night during the shift, and I started to really like him. And then one night, after we’d been working alongside one another all night and got on really well, he offered me a lift home because it was raining and I usually walked. And I said yes.

Tom

Helen was a bitch. She lured me in with her long, treacle-coloured hair that hung down her back in soft waves, tied together in a ponytail. I can’t believe I ever found her attractive. She was just a filthy little slag. I remember watching her in that little black miniskirt, flirting with the customers, giggling in that infuriating high-pitched way, and I wanted to thump her. Bitch. Whore. Slut!

When I offered her a lift home that night it opened a hell of a can of worms. I wish I’d never done it.

Helen

Tom was the kindest boyfriend I’ve ever had. He was always taking me out to places, posh restaurants, trendy bars. He never asked me to pay a penny, he was such a gentleman. It was as if money was no object to him when I was around. Maybe he was just showing off, because I once saw his credit card statement and it was through the roof. But I really did like him. We had such a lot of fun together, and we were going out for ages and ages, right up until I finished school. I even met all his family once at a wedding. But then I got offered a job in Austria as a chalet girl. And I really wanted it. I told Tom it might be hard for us to keep seeing each other if I was away for months at a time, but he was so adamant that we could make it work. He really didn’t want to let me go. I think he really loved me.

Tom

I fucking hate her.

I bought the ring from Beaverbrooks. It wasn’t cheap. In fact it was very expensive. My credit card was maxed out to the limit as it was but there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for that girl. It was all going to be a surprise. I’d used my credit card again to book the flight to Austria, first class. I thought, what the hell? I was feeling in high spirits. I even had a bottle of champagne on the way over, duty-free. The ring was in my pocket in the little box, and as I sat there on that scheduled BA flight to Zell am See I kept stroking it with my fingers, imagining what it would look like on her. Thinking about what I was going to say, wondering what she’d say in return. If I’d have known that she…Jesus Christ, I don’t want to talk about it.

Helen

He turned up out of the blue at my Chalet one night. I didn’t know what to say, I’d deliberately not called for weeks. I was trying to create a bit of distance between us if you really want to know, because I wanted to let him down gently, make it easier to do in the long run. You know, maybe I shouldn’t have been such a coward about it; maybe I should have put him out of his misery before he turned up, because he’d obviously got such the wrong idea about us.

He’d been drinking. I could tell straight away, because when he kissed me I could smell it. I tried to explain how things were, but he wasn’t listening. He just reached into his pocket before I could say anything and got out this little jewelry box. I could have cried, because I knew there was no way I could do it, and worse than that, I realised this was not going to be a simple ‘it’s not you it's me’ thing anymore. He opened the box and just looked at me, and by this time I was crying. I just shook my head slowly, pushing the box away, and then I had to turn my back on him because the look on his face was just painful.

“Is there someone else?”

“No, there’s no-one else.”

“Then what is it?”

He was getting angry by this time, now that I’d basically thrown his proposal back in his face.

“I just don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

There was a pause.

“But I love you.”

“I know.” I bit my lip, and turned around to face him again. I couldn’t say it back. It wasn’t true. I don’t think I ever felt as strongly about him as he did about me. I didn’t even realise he was that serious about me.

“You bitch.”

I knew he was angry then, because he’d never said anything like that to me before. He took the ring out of the box and threw it across the room. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. Then he picked up the TV.

Tom

If the TV hadn’t have been chained to the wall of the chalet it would have looked fantastic, like something out of a film. But in the end I just looked like a dick. And it was all because of her.

I was so cut up about the whole thing. There I was, in that fucking freezing chalet in Austria, stood there, with a smashed television set on the floor about two feet from the wall, staring straight at her. If it hadn’t been so tragic I would have found it funny. I just walked out after that, and went straight back to the airport. I haven’t seen her since then. I never got the money back for the ring either.

I hate her.

literature
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About the Creator

Kate Edwards

I'm single, a cat-lover and a passionate writer. I have a BA (Hons) in English Literature from Lancaster University and have had a passion for writing stories since I was able to put pen to paper. I also enjoy eating cheese and reading.

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