{"id":645,"date":"2017-01-13T14:46:26","date_gmt":"2017-01-13T14:46:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jonelkon.com\/?p=645"},"modified":"2017-01-13T14:46:26","modified_gmt":"2017-01-13T14:46:26","slug":"saving-sylvie-short-story-or-novel","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/saving-sylvie-short-story-or-novel\/","title":{"rendered":"Saving Sylvie – Short story or Novel?"},"content":{"rendered":"

What happens next? Any thoughts?<\/em><\/p>\n

Chapter 1<\/strong><\/p>\n

Night of the Narcissist.<\/strong><\/p>\n

“He adores you but frankly he’s a bit of a smug bastard” I said, looking her in her blueish eyes. I said bluish because there is a sort of greyness there. Almost an absence of eye, a space or depth like you sometimes get with the blind. But Sylvie is far from blind.<\/p>\n

You rightly suspect that I am in love with her and am trying to undermine her belief in every man she meets so that she will eventually realise that I am her true other half. Basically by elimination.<\/p>\n

Why don’t I just tell her so?<\/p>\n

“Well he has a right to be” She says, “He has his own company!”<\/p>\n

“Meaningless” I say contemptuously. “‘Management Consultancy’! That’s what people say when they’ve been made redundant from the civil service. Or social work.”<\/p>\n

She laughed. “Well his last job was in his da’s rubber firm!”<\/p>\n

“Rubber? What did they make? Condoms?”<\/p>\n

“Silly,” she said. Slightly annoyed. “No. Tyres. The company was bought by the Koreans. Not his fault. Besides he has a fabulous body!”<\/p>\n

“Ah,” I said, “of course. Gym bunny. Abs addict. Terror of the triceps”.<\/p>\n

Just then Chris returned from the loo. “Everyone alright?” He asked, and there was something so smug in his tone I desperately wanted lo launch my fork into his eye. “We having dessert are we?” He had no doubt whatsoever that Sylvie was perfectly safe with me and that was so insulting. Why would he think I was incapable of being his rival any way whatsoever?<\/p>\n

“Yes”, Sylvie said. “It’s a chocolate cake day for sure! Are ‘we’?” She had certainly inserted a single quote mark around the “we”. The gentle irony of that gave me a tiny thrill – she too had reacted to his smug comment.<\/p>\n

“It’s my sugar free day darling” he said. “you knew that” he pushed the menu aside like an insult.<\/p>\n

“I’m having profiteroles” I announced rebelliously.<\/p>\n

Sylvie caught my eye for a fraction of a second. A shared conspiratorial victory.<\/p>\n

The invisible spaces between us were rearranging.<\/p>\n

“Darling,” he said, leaning forward and engaging her eyes, his hand covering hers on the table, “are you sure? You remember your little resolution?”<\/p>\n

Involuntarily she snatched her hand from under his. “Oh my ‘little’ sugar resolution? No, I don’t remember that at all.” This time our exchange of glances was almost overt.<\/p>\n

“Damn!” He said. His pocket was chirping. Birdsong. “Sorry darling. Must get this.” Phone leapt into his hand, to his ear. “Yes I know, no, fine” he said to the mobile. Then, covering, “sorry darling. Client.” And strode toward the balcony, muttering into the instrument.<\/p>\n

“It’s his fucking ex- girlfriend”, Sylvie said, “she wont let him go”<\/p>\n

“He said client.”<\/p>\n

“Yes I know”, she said and sank into quiet glumness, disturbed only by the ordering of the deserts.<\/p>\n

The desserts arrived and still he hadn’t.<\/p>\n

“Let’s kill him”, she said.<\/p>\n

“Don’t be silly!” I laughed as I stabbed a profiterole with a savage fork.<\/p>\n

“That could be one of his balls” she mused.<\/p>\n

“And that ” I said as she sliced into the chocolate cake with knife and fork, “could be his ass!”<\/p>\n

We laughed.<\/p>\n

“He says he loves me,” she said. “I think he might.”<\/p>\n

“Oh wake up Sylvie. He’s a narcissist, He’s controlling you! He wants you to dance to his tune. Once you do, he’ll dump you!”<\/p>\n

Instantly I realised I had gone too far. The shadow that crossed her face said this: you do not trust my judgment. You underestimate me.<\/p>\n

“Sorry”, I said. “But it’s the truth!”<\/p>\n

Chris emerged from the balcony. “Ready darling? Got the bill? Don’t worry we’ll pick it up on the way out. Bye James, good to meet you.” A peremptory handshake and with every indication of petulance from both, they were gone. Leaving me staring at my last profiterole.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cHe dumped me!\u201d. It was two months after that meeting at Les Escargots. I hadn\u2019t seen her or heard from her, apart from the odd You Ok exchange of texts, since that evening. In the old days we were trapped to each-other on WhatsApp for hours in the evenings. She had shared almost everything with me, for some reason seemed to trust me since we had met as colleagues at KBH. But since that meeting with the Chris, nothing. Which was fine. We no longer worked together and to be frank I rather needed to get over my hurt. And let\u2019s face it, jealousy.<\/p>\n

I have always been better at being a friend than a lover. I\u2019ve always preferred food to sex, what the hell.<\/p>\n

Perhaps that\u2019s why I am a virgin at twenty eight.<\/p>\n

She says I am probably gay. Well, if I am, I\u2019d happily make an exception for her\u2026<\/p>\n

It was 7pm when I had the call on my mobile. Her voice had slivers of anger and a cushion of shock.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally,\u201d I said, attempting to inject just a little surprise into my voice. My temptation to use ITYS (I Told You So) rejected. \u201cSo. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow come every time you\u2019re not sure what to say next you start your next sentence with \u2018so\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone does that. So tell me why?\u201d I pushed the Mac aside and tried not to look at my next move in my chess battle with the machine.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he\u2019s a fucker!\u201d she said. \u201cBecause he\u2019s an asshole! Because he fucked his ex at my flat, while I was at the conference!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d I was properly surprised. I knew he was repulsive \u2013 but that<\/em> repulsive? \u201chow did you find out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh \u2013 why wouldn\u2019t I see a used condom in the bin? Under a scrunched copy of the Times? Which I thought, I told him to recycle his fucking Tory paper. So I took it out to put in the recycling. And there is this horrible pink rubber thing dripping cum underneath\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYuk.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he wanted babies with me! God James, what if I\u2019m pregnant?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll cross that bridge when. So what happened \u2013 did you confront him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe got home almost the same minute \u2013 there I am, Times in my hand, staring into the bin, there he is at the door, staring at me staring at the bin. Everything all right darling he asks me. No I say, point to the bin. He looks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWow. Great scene.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen he says, I swear, he says, \u2018yes, it\u2019s a condom. Are you coming to the O2 with me tonight or not. It\u2019s Comedy Central night.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?! What did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI threw the bin at him!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t\u2026\u201d feigned disbelief. This was exactly what I could imagine her doing.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes I did. Covered him in fag ash and tissues and dribbling cum. He was furious!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell done! And then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then he told me I am a screaming hysterical bitch. He always wanks into a condom he said. Saves mess! And he dumped me\u2026grabbed his stuff. Stormed out like it\u2019s all my<\/em> fault! Oh James, why do I feel so\u2026fucking\u2026miserable?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you want me to come over?\u201d hopefully. The White Knight with chocolates and kisses\u2026.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo I fucking don\u2019t \u2013 oh sorry James I don\u2019t want it to sound like that. I just need to be by myself. Think it over. I mean, why does he have to wank when he has me? I don\u2019t believe him! She was here. I know she was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh boy\u2026\u201d she\u2019s sobbing and it\u2019s horrible. Then \u201cI mean, maybe just maybe it\u2019s true? He\u2019s OCD enough to use a condom for a wank.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow can you believe him?\u201d I ask, exasperated. \u201cI told you he\u2019s a narcissist. He can never admit if he\u2019s done wrong. He will always blame the other person.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going out,\u201d she said. \u201cI need to walk.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And that was the last time I spoke to her, three days now. No answers to texts. Nothing on Whatsapp. Her Facebook, Snapchat, nothing’s happened.<\/p>\n

She has disappeared.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What should I do?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Image:\u00a0http:\/\/acozykitchen.com\/profiteroles\/<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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