The Debt & the Doormat by Laura Barnard Page B

to bits, is a nightmare to live with.  She’s so busy keeping up with the Jones’s and re-decorating every room in the house, that she doesn’t realise she’s spending the whole time driving everyone else around her mad.
    ‘But he was worried you’d get yourself into trouble.  You know how he worries about you.’
    Oh great, so now I’m going to have more lectures from him about being safe in London and carrying my rape alarm.  When will he realise that I’m not going to die just because I’m on my own?  I mean, I may be a bit accident prone, but still.  The truth is that the amount of stories he’s told me over the years have terrified me so much I’m scared to go almost anywhere.  And I’m sure that's why I trip.   
    ‘Did he say what he was ringing about?’
    ‘Yeah, it was to chat about your brother’s wedding.  And your Mum shouted something in the background about you only having a month now to lose the puppy fat.’  She turns quickly to paint the wall, trying desperately to hide her giggles. 
    Like I could forget.  Mum’s been ringing me practically every day to remind me that I need to look fabulous, and boring me with all of the preparation details.  She even ‘accidentally’ e-mailed me a link to a plastic surgery clinic advertising boob jobs.   
    ‘So anyway,’ I try to shake the thought of her out of my head.  ‘Did you spend money on the paint?’
    ‘No, even better.  I was walking past this house down the road which is having loads of work done and I got chatting to the builders.  They said the woman was being a nightmare and saying they’d bought the wrong shade of red.  Anyway, long story short, this gorgeous builder said I could have the paint and some brushes if I agreed to go out on a date with him.  It’s win, win!’
    ‘Oh my God!  You’ve pimped yourself out just to get some paint.’
    Images of Jazz walking past in stripper heels and leopard print flash through my mind.  Mainly because I know she owns those clothes. 
    ‘Didn’t you hear me – he’s gorgeous!  Quite magnificent actually.’
    ‘Really,’ I say sarcastically.
    ‘Totally!  Did you ever see Titanic?’ she swoons.
    ‘Oh yeah,’ I say, brightening up at the thought of Leonardo Di Caprio.  He must be hot.
    ‘Well he’s kind of like the guy I went to see that with.’
    ‘Oh.’
    She makes no sense.
    ‘I can’t wait.  He’s already called and we’re going out tonight.’
    ‘Jesus, he’s keen!  But wait, I thought we said any decisions had to be passed through the other one?  And how are you going to afford it?’
    ‘Chill out Grandma!’ she giggles.  ‘Its only pizza express and hopefully he’ll be a gentleman and pay.’
    ‘Whatever,’ I retort.  I hate when she calls me Grandma.
    ‘Oh and your brother popped round.’
    ‘Which one?’
    ‘Ollie.  I filled him in on our little arrangement.’
    ‘Oh great.  So he’s gonna rip the piss out of me next time I see him.’
    She giggles again, seeming desperate not to openly laugh in my face. 
    ‘Anyway, I’ve told you about my day.  What happened with you?’
    I fill her in with the excruciating details.  It really does amaze me how she can be so lucky and me so the complete opposite.  In one day she’s managed to get a job, start to deal with her debt, paint my sitting room a God awful colour and get a date.  What have I done?  I’ve been chained to a banister.  She really is like a cat, always landing on her feet.  I’m more like a dog with a missing leg and one eye, that people feel sorry for but are too horrified to take home. 
    ‘Wow chick, it sounds like you’ve had a right adventure,’ she laughs, as if she’s not surprised.  ‘So, what do you think of the guys in the house?’
    I roll my eyes with contempt.
    She raises her eyebrows.  ‘That bad?’
    ‘Well, Izzy’s lovely obviously, even if she is like a puppy on speed.’
    Jazz lets out a giggle and I can tell the feeling is