She laughed, “I’ve had a few old debts paid to me, so I’m kind of on the uppers when it comes to money.”

Andy murmured appreciatively, “that sounds great. I’m working tomorrow, but there are a few of us heading to the pub tonight. Be great if you joined us.”

                “I’ll see, I’m shattered, so I’ll wait and see how tired I am later. Ok?”

                “Of course, I’ll see you then.”

Mattie hadn’t had much luck in finding any new avenues for buyers, so she had to face the reality of searching for another job. Her CV wasn’t as full or as extravagant as she would have liked. But a recent email did tell her of job fairs coming up in several places in London. Before losing her husband and her mother she’d held a high job, business dinners in the hotels that both Adam and Dylan had taken her to were common place, she’d earned a hefty salary and worked long hours. Her marital home had been a small but much desired loft apartment in Fulham. She’d imagined at that time that by thirty she’d be even higher flying, that Dylan would finally be settled in a job he enjoyed, and they’d maybe even have children and a house as oppose to a small apartment.

Instead she was about to attend a job fair to find a hopefully reasonably well paid job that was nowhere near the sort of job she SHOULD have. But she couldn’t cry over that, she had to pull up her socks and prepare to move on. The last thing she wanted was sympathy or charity. So she sent out a few questioning emails before logging off and packing up for the week.

She changed in her shower room into jeans and an old t-shirt, she needed to get to the supermarket on the way home, and her business suit wasn’t the right attire. She was pulling on a rain jacket and a knitted hat when there was a tap at her door and Dylan looked in. His eyes widened at seeing her, and she glanced in the mirror, it wasn’t the hat that made her look younger than she was, or the worn jeans that made him gawp so inelegantly, but the t-shirt, she immediately knew that. It was an old Doves t-shirt but she instantly remembered that he’d bought for her at the first concert he took her to. She’s not realised every time she wore it, but now, with him staring at her wistfully, she couldn’t forget the moment he’d bought it for her giggling; now she’d snuck behind a pillar to change into it uncaring really who saw her do it.

Was she ever that girl? It seemed such a long time ago, and a million miles from where she was.

It took him a moment to compose himself, “I’m going back to London, I was going to give you a lift?”

The thought of an hour in the car with him after this searching and poignant moment was too much to bear. “I’ve got a lot on so don’t worry about me. I’ll see you Monday though?” She added smile as she backed towards the door, and all he could do was nod as she disappeared.

It seemed like hours before she got home, with her laptop, her handbag, the three bags of shopping, she was laden like a pack horse. As she was trying to open her door without dropping anything, the door across the corridor opened and Andy stood there laughing.

                “You going for some sort of juggling record?”

She gave him a sarcastic laugh then smiled in relief as he grabbed the keys from her and unlocked the door, then reached for a couple of the bags, immediately lightened the load. Dumping the bags on the kitchen work surface she groaned tensing the white lines where the bags had cut into her fingers to try and improve the circulation.

                “You on your way out?” Andy was tall and a little bit slimmer than he could have been, normally he lived in jeans and non descript t-shirts, but tonight he was wearing a rather gaudy shirt and black trousers. She hated that she noted how cheap they were, how they shone from too hot an iron on too cheap a nylon based material. But for him this was an effort and she wanted to acknowledge that.

He nodded, “told you, we’re going to the Kings Head...may go up town later. Sure you don’t want to come?”

She glanced at the bag on the counter filled with deli pasta and good wine and shook her head, “been a hectic week, need a night with my feet up. If you’re good I’ll treat you to lunch on Sunday...I’m feeling generous.”

His eyes widened at that, “wow! I’ll take you up on that most definitely!”

He was a good friend, when she’d moved in to the hell hole that was her apartment he’d been a welcome and friendly face. Many a night he’d turned up with a bottle of something alcoholic when she was low in mood, not wanting to get up in the morning, and she’d always be grateful that he helped her get through those difficult weeks. But sometimes he was a little overpowering, wanting to drag her everywhere he went, since she worked that happened less and less, after all she worked long hours. Andy was lucky in that he worked irregular hours, random shifts, so he could be flexible; sometimes he forgot that she worked nine to five, or more often seven till seven.

Alone though she could relax. This was the first weekend when she didn’t have the same worries of the world on her shoulders, and she planned to enjoy every moment of it. Monday, and her career was around the corner, but she knew in her heart it wasn’t her job that had been so important over the last few years, but the debt she was obligated to pay off. Without that hanging over her she was convinced that things would work out.

With a sigh she located the bottle of wine and cracked it open...the weekend started then!

Dylan sat at the small dining table in his apartment, the roof top view of the Thames was impressive and he’d always found it calming. But since five pm that afternoon, all he’d seen, all he’d relived was that day twelve years ago when he’d taken his new girlfriend to a Doves gig.

She’d declined him on so many occasions that he was almost stunned when she finally agreed to go out with him. And he’d laughed heartily when she’d insisted on paying for her ticket, quite vocally and bossily. No one bossed him around and he found it all rather novelty and amusing. But they’d spent the rest of the evening stood at the back of the arena swaying to the slow songs, dancing to the livelier ones, all the time her stood in front of him, pressed up against his stomach, spine to chest, his arms wrapped around her, her head so frequently turning, searching for the his lips, the kisses that she’d initially avoided, but somewhere over the course of the evening become addicted to. It had been magical, special and he’d fallen in love with her that night. 

On the way out he’d bought her the t-shirt, and uncaring she’d ducked behind a pillar to change into it, not bothered at who saw her, on their first proper date.

And today, seeing her stood in that same t-shirt had done things to him, he’d gone back to a time when he lived, loved and belonged somewhere. A time he’d thrown away so carelessly. The irony that she was still wearing the t-shirt all these years later wasn’t lost on him, rather than some attempt to be uber cool and retro, he had a feeling it was due to the lack of anything newer, her poverty, due to his debt...yet again.

He hated himself.

It was late, dark, but he had no idea how he was going to sleep. He had barely had a good night’s sleep since walking into the Sunset Club Hotel a few weeks earlier.

Getting up to refill his glass with his favourite twenty year old malt, he noticed his phone flashing. Reaching for it he groaned to see several missed calls from his mother. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse. Slumping into a chair he drank the drink far quicker than it deserved.

Andy and his two good friends were gushing with tales of their raucous night out when Mattie met them on Sunday for lunch. She’d had a productive weekend. After spending Friday evening networking, trying to tempt any contacts she could find into at least looking at the prospectus of the hotel. It hadn’t been her most industrious night, but Saturday had seen her hit town, and shop...for the first time in years. She glanced at her feet and the beautiful red patent heels that adorned her feet and glowed, she LOVED shoes.

                “What’s so funny?” Andy asked.

She shrugged, “nothing, just thinking...what you having for dinner?”

He slung the menu down on the table and sat back, “beef...every time, and ALL the trimmings.”

Smiling she jumped up and headed to the bar for more drinks and to order the dinners. Tomorrow was another day and she’d deal with her future then. Heading back to the boys she smiled as she slid onto the bench next to Andy and instantly dropped into their banter.

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