The Ex-Boyfriend's Handbook Read Online Free PDF Page B

already see an empty Special Brew can by his feet.
    ‘What can I get you this morning?’
    It’s his favourite joke, given the fact that all he sells is the Big Issue . In fact it’s his only joke, but today, I’m past the point where I can pretend to be amused.
    ‘A return ticket to Tibet please.’
    Billy stares at me for a moment. ‘Do I look like a bleedin’ travel agent?’
    I look him up and down, but fail to spot any trace of a striped polyester blouse. ‘No, Billy, you don’t. Not dressed like that, anyway.’
    Billy looks hurt, and I immediately feel guilty. ‘What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?’ he asks, smoothing down his parka.
    ‘Nothing, Billy. I’m sorry. You look very…’ I can’t in all honesty use the word ‘smart’, as Billy’s coat has seen better days. As, I’m sure, has Billy. ‘I was just trying to suggest that you weren’t dressed like a travel agent. That’s all.’
    He peers at me suspiciously. ‘Whassup with you this morning?’
    Do I want to keep having this conversation today? No.
    ‘Nothing. I’m fine.’
    ‘Pull the other one.’
    ‘Just women trouble.’ I say, the prospect of pulling anything of Billy’s not exactly filling me with pleasure. ‘Nothing you can help me with.’
    ‘Don’t be so bleedin’ cheeky,’ growls Billy. ‘I was married once, you know.’
    This shocks me. For some reason I’d never even thought that Billy might have had a normal life before this.
    ‘Really? What happened?’
    Billy shakes his head. ‘She didn’t understand me.’
    ‘What was it? The drinking?’
    ‘No you deaf git. She didn’t understand me. She was Polish. I just married her so she could get her visa. Paid me three hundred and fifty quid, they did. Only two words of English she knew were “I” and “do”.’
    Billy tilts his head back and roars with laughter, and as a waft of stale beer reaches me, I look at my watch, and realize that I am in fact quite late for work.
    ‘Yes. Well. Very funny, Billy. Lovely talking with you, as ever.’
    I make to walk towards my office, but Billy stops me. ‘Do you want one or not?’ he says, offering me the copy in his hand.
    I catch sight of the cover. It’s last week’s edition. ‘I’ve already got that one.’
    Billy looks at me accusingly. ‘You got yourself another bleedin’ supplier? Whatever happened to bleedin’ customer loyalty?’
    ‘Billy, I bought it from you last week,’ I reply, reflecting that ‘bleeding’ is obviously Billy’s favourite adjective.
    He peers at me suspiciously. ‘I don’t remember that.’
    It occurs to me that given the amount of Special Brew Billy regularly consumes, he probably doesn’t remember anything much—but then he probably has a lot of things that he’d rather forget. I find a couple of pound coins in my pocket and hold them out towards him.
    ‘Here, just take the money.’
    Billy stares at my outstretched hand. ‘I can’t do that,’ he says. ‘That’s begging. I’ve got my pride.’
    ‘Okay, okay. I’ll take one. Happy now?’
    I grab the copy he’s thrusting into my face, and give him the two pound coins. As I hold my hand out for my change, Billy looks at me as if I’m simple.
    ‘What are you waiting for?’
    I redden slightly. ‘My change?’
    ‘Change? Do I look like bleedin’ Barclay’s Bank?’
    ‘No, it’s just that I…The magazine only costs one pound forty.’
    ‘So? You didn’t want one in the first place.’
    ‘But…’
    Billy shakes his head slowly. ‘You’re worried about your miserable sixty pence change and I don’t know where my next meal is coming from.’
    In truth we both know the answer to that question; from the off-licence across the street, but that thought makes me feel even more guilty. I give up, turn around, and walk down the street towards my office.
    I work as a head-hunter for an IT recruitment consultancy: the imaginatively named Staff-IT. I say consultancy as if we’re a big operation, but in reality