"The Beginning After the End" Part 4
It was only after Cook cupped Katie’s face with one hand and kissed her on the mouth that he noticed she would not meet his eyes.
“All right, love?” he asked quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of her face.
“Sure,” she said, but she tilted her head away slightly from his fingers. She looked somewhere above his eyes and managed a wooden smile for a brief moment before averting them again.
He stood back and lit a fag, motioning towards her front door. “Sure you don’t want to come back to mine?”
She seemed to wince a bit, pursing her lips. “No, no. Feel a bit sick, still. I wouldn’t want to...you know. Puke in front of you or anything.”
He thought it was sweet, how self-conscious love can make even the most unshakable girl come apart at the seams. He smiled. “Last night was fun, innit?”
Katie scratched her nose with her left hand, looking down at the ground briefly as she nodded. Then she looked at her hand and frowned, casually lowering her hand to cup around her right elbow. She smiled up at him. “Yeah.”
“Do it again sometime?”
“Yeah,” she said again, clearing her throat. She glanced at her front door. “Definitely.”
“You’re a sweet broad,” he chortled, shaking his head. “Ring you later, yeah?”
“Sure,” she said. She licked her lips and kissed him so suddenly that he rocked back on his heels. It was better when she was sober, he thought, when the smell of stale beer was replaced by the smell of a girl in love with him.
When they parted, her face was flushed a little. “Thanks for walking me home. It was nice of you.”
Cook walked with a bounce in his step the entire way back to his flat. He lit a fag and sat by the open window, letting the cool October breeze blow gently over his skin. He felt his mobile go off in his pocket and wondered if perhaps Katie had left something behind.
“So there I am, yeah, eating a hearty breakfast of bangers and coffee, and who walks by the cafe window?” Duke’s voice was gruffer than usual. “None other than my sponsee, who has not yet phoned me this morning like he normally does. Hand-in-hand with a bird. Make it to the club last night?”
Cook scratched his chin briefly, confused. “Told me not to, didn’t you?”
“And I’m sure you listened.” Cook could picture Duke narrowing his eyes as she spoke. “We are in a program of rigorous honesty, lad. Rigorous honesty.”
Cook could feel himself getting defensive and tried quelling it by taking a long drag. “I ain’t lyin’. I didn’t go to the club. A...a friend of mine phoned me when I’d just got in last night. She was in a bit of a spot. That’s who you saw me with this morning, I reckon.”
Duke grunted as an affirmative. “I reckon. And I reckon you recall how many times I’ve told you no relationships in your first year?”
Cook sucked a deep breath in through his teeth, grimacing.
That was enough of an answer for his sponsor. His voice was firm. “You ought to come ‘round now, lad.”
Cook sighed and stubbed his cigarette out on the windowsill. “Duke, I would, but I’m a bit knackered still.”
Duke was silent for a long while. Cook thought he might have gotten disconnected, but then he heard the low whoosh of the man’s sigh. “Be careful. Don’t let it interfere with your program.”
Cook glanced out his window down towards the hustle and bustle of the streets, in disbelief. “That’s it, then?”
“What?”
“I mean, no ‘you damn well better, lad’ or any of it?” Cook chuckled slightly. “Thought you was tougher than this, man.”
“I can’t make you listen,” Duke replied. Cook could hear the frown in his voice. “I can’t get or keep anyone sober. I’m not God, you know. The only thing I can do is warn you--there’s a reason they tell you no relationships in your first year. Gets in the way. And whether you want to admit it or not, you’re still quite new.”
“Sure,” Cook replied vaguely, not feeling like arguing. Four months didn’t feel new to him. It seemed as if he’d been going to AA meetings for an eternity.
“I’ll say this much,” Duke said. “I think you’re making a mistake. And if you want to keep carrying on with this girl like you are, it’d better be because she’s something special. It’d better be love, lad, or you’ll be fucked up the arse before you know what’s hit you, and you’ll regret every minute of it. Trust me,” he added, his voice growing soft. “I know.”
“Sure.”
“Do you love her?”
He grew annoyed, realizing where the conversation was headed. “Shit, we only just fuckin’ went to it last night.”
Duke scoffed. There was an edge to it, something not exactly nasty but certainly not friendly.
After Cook hung up, he looked back over the streets of Bristol, trying to keep his mind off the swell of guilt rising up in his throat.
~ ~ ~
Effy laid down on her bed and tried to stretch the soreness out of her muscles. She rolled over and plugged her mobile into its charger, then rested on her side momentarily. Her headache made sleep impossible, but she was too dizzy to go searching for something to remedy it. She didn’t know how she had gotten home without puking. She checked the clock. It wasn’t yet noon.
Through the haze of her hangover, she tried to recount the events of the evening before. Everything after paying the cover was blurry. She remembered her lips being scratched by stubble, and catching a glimpse of red hair pushing towards the door. She remembered thinking Emily must have been leaving because she and Naomi had a row. She remembered refusing to look the boy in the eyes because she was afraid his face would look too much like Freddie’s.
She rubbed her forehead and drew in a deep breath, trying to push her frustration down. A breeze coming through the window ruffled her hair, and she briefly considered breaking the window with her fist. She took another deep breath.
“Freds,” she said aloud, furrowing her brow. “Could you fuck off, please?”
She had never done this sober before, but the hangover made her desperate to get his ghost to stop.
“Could you fuck off, please?” she muttered again, then swallowed hard. The back of her throat tasted like bile.
A breeze whispered in through the screen of her open window. She knew what it was, but it sounded so much like someone shushing her that the hair on her arms stood on end.
“No,” she replied. She had wanted it to sound fierce, but her voice cracked with weakness. “You shut up.”
The breeze was still.
She swallowed again. “D’you know what I hated most? The way you looked at me when we’d fuck. Most girls spend their lives waiting for a boy to look at them like that. I never wanted it. I tried to want it, but I couldn’t.” She paused, worrying for a moment that she would be sick, then gathered her bearings. “It frightened me, that you believed I was that sort of girl. If that’s what you wanted, you should have stuck with Katie.”
She remembered the way Katie’s mouth turned down into a sneer when she asked Effy what love was like. The sneer had been a cover for something Katie had buried deep inside herself that was starting to surface.
Effy smiled sardonically. “I never told you about that, did I? And now you know.” She let out a dry-sounding laugh, like wood cracking. “She asked me what love was like, and I told her the truth. It would have driven you mad. You would have thought I didn’t love you, but I did. I loved you. I still love you. But love doesn’t keep some people happy, does it? You wanted loving me to be enough, but it wasn’t. And I felt...I feel bad about that. That you could picture the rest of your life with me, and I couldn’t imagine anything beyond five minutes into the future.”
The pounding in her head got worse. The sound of her heartbeat in her ears began to resemble a hammer clanking against an anvil. It felt like someone was angrily prodding her temple.
“Don’t be mad,” she sighed, clenching her teeth against the pain. “Better you died thinking I was the love of your life than knowing the truth. You could have had anyone you wanted, and you picked me. It’s your own fucking fault.”
The wind that followed was so strong that Effy squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. She heard a tearing noise, but didn’t open her eyes again until it had died down. The screen had torn down the center, the two halves fluttering in the remnants of the breeze. It looked as though someone had split it in two with a knife, trying to gain entrance to her.
~ ~ ~
“I can’t right now, J.” Emily’s voice sounded reedy and thin. JJ would have likened it to paper, but paper has substance. Her voice was devoid of it.
He began to splutter, then caught himself and swallowed. He gazed around the street corner as though he was lost. “But...but you’re back in Bristol now and I--”
“I can’t right now, JJ. I’m sorry.”
“Not even for tea?” JJ asked desperately. “You can’t even come by for tea?”
“I’m sorry.” She sounded close to tears suddenly. “It’s...Naomi and I are...we’ve sort of hit a rough patch. Or maybe we’ve been in the rough patch for a while and now it’s all coming to a head. I don’t know. But I--”
JJ swallowed, feeling as if time were suddenly slowing down. “I thought that was over with.”
He heard Emily draw in a deep breath, then exhale. “I thought it was too, but…” She sighed again. “I’m sorry, JJ. I need to take care of this. I’ll see you soon, okay? When it’s sorted.”
“When is it going to be sorted?” JJ demanded. “When are you...when are you two going to...why can’t you...I need…”
“JJ, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he roared, drawing stares from passersby. He ignored them. “I-I don’t understand what’s so difficult, if she loves you so much and you love her I d-don’t understand why you two can’t just work it out and go back to the way things used to b-b-be.”
“If it were that simple, do you think I wouldn’t have done it by now?” Emily snapped. “But it’s complicated, what’s happened with us. It doesn’t just go away.”
“Because you haven’t tried!” he cried, knotting his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or smash his face against a lamppost. “What’s so difficult about all this? When you two want to be together, what’s so difficult about--”
“You don’t get it,” she replied. Her tone was even, but he could hear her anger bubbling beneath the surface. “And I don’t think it has a thing to do with you.”
JJ had not realized until that moment that the ringing in his ears had been gone for most of the morning, faded into nothingness not ten minutes into his session with Hannah. Now it was suddenly back, and in full force.
He doubled over as if he had been punched in the gut, gripping the leg of his jeans in his free hand. He gritted his teeth. “It has everything to do with me. You two, you’ve...you’ve ruined it. My day, you’ve ruined it.”
Then he hung up the phone and walked aimlessly, holding his head in his hands. Mothers pulled their children away from him, afraid he was a derelict spiraling into insanity. Construction workers halted the pounding of their tools long enough to stare at him.
This ringing this fucking ringing this fucking
JJ kept walking. His thoughts were hazy, images colliding against each other in various shades of black and red. His rage was unbearable.
How could she how could they like I don’t matter like it has nothing to do with me of course not but if you both I don’t understand how if you both want and love and need each other then why leave that’s all you need to make it work when Lara left it was because she didn’t love me anymore I would give anything I would give anything why do you have to fuck everything up all the time JJ why can’t you just stop it has nothing to do with you nothing ever has but if you both I don’t know how you can’t if you both want I don’t know what if you both are willing I was always you can’t Emily why can’t you just I don’t know why I can’t just this is Effy’s fault if Freddie were here I could go to his shed but if Freddie were here he’d be with Effy Effy why couldn’t you just go away and leave my friend to me again why did you have to why can’t you just if someone loves you and you love them why can’t you stop making chaos making it worse why
A moment of clarity broke through his mind when he thought to return to Hannah and demand more time from her, but then he realized that truly would have been insane on his part. Also, it more than likely would have landed him with another prescription for medication. That was out of the question. But then he remembered the notebook she had given him. He pulled it out of his pocket and gazed at the cover. He opened it gingerly, and a strong wind ripped the pages from his fingers, flipping them rapidly. He saw the lines waiting to be filled.
Yes. He knew exactly what he would do.
~ ~ ~
Katie pounded on Naomi’s front door so hard she thought her fist would snap in half. She pounded and pounded and pounded, thinking of Effy’s face, thinking of Cook’s smile, thinking of that boy and then she pounded harder still.
Emily flung the door open, narrowing her red-rimmed eyes. Katie pretended she didn’t notice why Emily was crying.
“What in God’s name is wrong with you?” Emily asked. Her nose was stuffy. “The whole neighborhood can hear.”
“Just came round to say you were right,” Katie said brightly, but she knew how dark her face looked. It was a sneer she couldn’t help, and she knew Emily could see it plain as day. “I lied to you. I’m in love with Cook.”
She surprised herself at how easily the words came out, and thought, That just goes to show how easy it is when you practice enough.
Emily blinked a few times at her, and her face changed. Katie couldn’t explain the expression, but she knew Emily knew the truth somehow. She squared her shoulders, crossing her arms against her chest. Her nails dug into her bare skin. “He’s a great shag. So, sorry for lying. Just wanted to let you know.”
“You didn’t,” Emily said, stunned.
“Why wouldn’t I?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “‘Course I fucked him. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Emily repeated stupidly, pressing her palm to her own cheek absently. She looked so much like their mother in that instant that Katie nearly lost her nerve.
“Yeah,” she said, steering herself. Her voice was a challenge. “Boyfriend.”
Emily shook her head. “You don’t need to do this. I know it’s not Cook, it’s--”
“Where’s your girlfriend, Ems?” Katie interrupted viciously. Two years ago, it wouldn’t have phased her to say it, but today part of her felt terribly guilty. Emily answering the door in place of Naomi and the puffiness of her face was only confirmation. She had gotten a tinge in her stomach on the way over, a tinge she was certain did not relate to her ebbing hangover.
It wasn’t strong. It had always been stronger with Emily, but Katie had it too. So she knew, and she knew it was the only way to divert Emily’s attention.
Emily’s body seemed to sag, like the life was slowly being sucked out of her. “Out.”
Katie smiled, all teeth. “Send her my love. Best care about your own life these days, yeah?”
She wasn’t three yards from the house when she heard the heavy thud of Emily falling to her knees in the doorway. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her sister with her hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking.
Katie could not go back. This was how things needed to be. Emily would forgive her eventually. She always did.
~ ~ ~
Hannah was collecting her things and humming a pleasant tune to herself, planning out what she would have for dinner and what part of the paper she would start reading first (of course she knew she would begin with world news, saving the arts section for last, but planning it out made her all the more excited for it), when Victoria buzzed in on the intercom.
“Hannah?”
Hannah sighed impatiently through her nose, pressing down on the call button. “Vic, you’ve been working here over a year now. You can knock on the door, you know.”
“I know I can knock on the door. The intercom makes me feel important.”
“You’re my secretary. How much more important do you want to be?”
“You could give me a raise, for starters.”
“Victoria, why are you buzzing me on the intercom when I’m about to go home for the day?”
“Effy Stonem on line one. Shall I connect you, or tell her that she’s not important either?”
Hannah glanced at the time. Five in the evening. She only had an hour to get home, eat dinner, and read the paper before having to leave for her tai chi class. However, Effy was a girl of few words, so the call could not possibly take more than a few minutes. Moreover, Effy had never actually phoned Hannah before. Whatever it was must have been important.
“Have you died?”
Hannah drew in a breath and sat down heavily in her chair, reminding herself that her clients had to come first. She pressed the call button with some degree of begrudging acceptance. “No, I haven’t died. Put her through.”
The button for line one promptly began blinking red. Hannah thunked her index finger on it heavily, thinking of a sandwich. “Hello?”
“Do you have a minute?”
Effy’s voice had a quality to it that Hannah could not place--something that hovered between hollow and despairing. It sounded deflated, hopeless. Hannah licked her lips and absently twisted the cord of the phone around her left hand.
“Is everything all right?” Hannah asked. “You sound a bit--”
“I was wondering if you had time for a session,” Effy interrupted. Hannah noticed that she sounded distracted.
“A session?” Hannah echoed, leafing through her scheduling book. “I have an opening Monday afternoon. Will that do?”
“I don’t think so.” The silence that followed was pregnant with the lack of explanation. Hannah didn’t know what to make of it.
“Oh,” she finally said, sounding somewhat stupid. “Um...did you want an earlier appointment?”
“Yes,” Effy said, and with that one word Hannah could finally place that quality of her voice. “Now. Please. If you could. Please.”
Hannah gritted her teeth against a sigh. “I can. How long will it take for you to get here? I have a previous engagement at--”
“I’m standing outside your building now.”
Hannah took the two minutes between hanging up the phone and Effy entering her office to reflect on her patient’s voice. The hollow sort of desperation, the slight shakiness that formed her words. It was confirmed when Effy sat down and Hannah was able to take in her features.
My God, Hannah thought, trying to mask her alarm. She looks as if she’s come completely undone.
~ ~ ~
Yes, JJ knew exactly what he would do. If he’d had more time, he would have done it all at once. But he didn’t have more time, so he started with Effy and saved the rest for later.
He had called Emily at eleven. Fifteen minutes later, Katie had shown up to announce that she’d shagged Cook the previous evening. An hour before JJ phoned Emily, and a forty-five minutes before Katie had come round, Naomi had given Emily a long, teary glare before shaking her head very slowly.
“There’s nothing I can do, is there?” she said. All the while, she looked Emily straight in the eye. “I’ve done everything I can. I don’t know what else to do for you. I thought I’d done enough. I thought you’d forgiven me.”
And then she left.
Half an hour before Naomi left (which was ninety minutes before JJ phoned Emily, and seventy-five minutes before Katie came round), Cook had hung up with Duke and smoked a second cigarette, unable to shake the feeling of guilt that settled over him when he realized Katie was in love with him and he was using her, just like the old Cook used to.
Well, if I’m going to act like the Old Cook, what the fuck was the point in gettin’ sober? he asked himself ruefully.
But JJ didn’t know any of this. He only knew exactly what he would do. Yes, he knew exactly what he would do, and he was so excited that he could not even make it home before starting. He stopped in at a shop and bought a ballpoint pen, then sat down on the curb and began writing in the Moleskine notebook. The people about him did not seem to notice how frantically he was writing. Later, when he would begin transferring his words from the notebook to his father’s old typewriter, he would note how terrible and messy his handwriting appeared.
It was four in the afternoon before he was completely satisfied. It was half past when he rang Effy’s doorbell, then dropped it on her front stoop and ran, full speed, down the road. He didn’t stop running until his fingers were back at the typewriter, and there was no ringing in his ears at all--just the steady in-out whoosh of his breathing.
~ ~ ~
Cook turned the collar up on his jacket and lit a fag. The air was getting cooler each night. He exhaled the smoke through his nostrils and looked up and down the streets, still bustling with people trying to get home from work. The sun was setting. He remembered how Freddie used to love this time of year.
He couldn’t decide where to go. He fiddled with his mobile in his pocket, wondering if he should ring Duke. He checked the time: a quarter to five in the evening. Heaving a sigh for no particular reason, he set off in the direction of his meeting. It didn’t start for another hour.
When he reached the outside of the building--it was a church he had never noticed, though he passed it most nights on the way to the pubs--he glanced around, blinking. He checked the time again. Forty-five minutes to go. He scratched his ear, then began walking across the street. His legs seemed to move on their own, then halt on their own. He looked about himself as if he could not figure out where he had gone. Rows and rows of tombstones. He sighed again and sat down.
He lit another fag, and gritted his teeth as Katie’s face flashed into his mind. It was followed by thoughts of a drink, the oblivion wiping out all sense of guilt and responsibility. He scratched the back of his head absently, trying to suppress the swell of anxiety rising in his chest.
“Shit,” he muttered, looking up at the sky, then at the tombstone in front of him. He could still make out the name in the dying light. “Freds? Listen.”
He paused, and took another drag. It was something he used to do when they were talking face-to-face, when he was buying himself time because he was trying to think of something to say. He exhaled slowly.
“Freddie,” he ventured again. “I know you’re not usually the one I chat with these days, but if you were here I’d be talkin’ to you more than God, I reckon. And I don’t really feel like praying right now.”
He picked at a blade of grass absently, then fiddled with his shoelace.
“Y’know, the third step says we’ve got to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God,” he continued, taking another drag. “It felt good to do that, you know? To let go of things and think I didn’t have to control nothin’ outside myself. It helped me let go of Eff. And you, and what happened. It helped me think there was a reason for it, like…” He paused, looking for the words. “Like, if you hadn’t done it...if you hadn’t loved her and if she hadn’t picked you, if you hadn’t tried to protect her, I never would’ve gotten here. But I wish you didn’t have to die in order for me...”
The pain seemed to swell up in his chest like a wave cresting over the shoreline, up out of his mouth. He tried to keep it at bay by clenching his teeth, but already his eyes were leaking two identical streams of tears.
“I wish you didn’t have to die in order for me to be saved,” he choked out, pressing the palm of his hand against his mouth. He sniffled thickly. “I’ve tried so hard to change, mate, but sometimes...it feels like I’m still who I used to be. Shagging Katie when I don’t even fancy her. Who does that sound like?”
He sniffled again, wiping his face on the sleeve of his coat. “I miss you. If you were here you’d knock me upside the head, rough me up a bit I guess, and call me an idiot. Who’s supposed to do that now?”
The blow was not painful, or even very hard, but Cook had not been expecting it. He toppled over with an indignant shout and rolled onto his back with his hands up, preparing for a scrape. He blinked a few times, his vision clearing enough for him to see JJ standing over him, his hands balled into fists.
“J?” Cook said, lowering his hands. “Did you just hit me?”
“Someone has to,” JJ replied, then turned and began walking away.
“JJ?” Cook got to his feet, using Freddie’s tombstone to help him up. “JJ, where you off to? Hey!”
“I’ve got something to take care of,” JJ said without turning around. “Don’t worry.”
“But--”
“You’ll see.” When JJ turned, he was smiling. It wasn’t a crazed, deranged smile. It was the first genuine smile Cook had seen on his face in months.
~ ~ ~
Katie phoned her parents at home and told them she was eating dinner at her boyfriend’s. When her mother asked how lunch with Emily had gone the day before, Katie’s response was so pleasant she thought her teeth would rot out of her mouth.
“It was lovely,” she said, making sure the sound of her jaw clenching didn’t carry through in her voice. “Ems says she’ll be by soon enough, just when she and Naomi get settled and all.”
“I’ve been ringing her all day, but she hasn’t answered,” her mother replied fretfully. “Are you certain she’s all right?”
“‘Course she is, Mum. I reckon she’s just jetlagged. She seemed tired enough over lunch, and we went out last night. I’m sure that didn’t help.”
“I’m sure it didn’t,” her mother chided her gently, then brightened. “A new boyfriend, then? Is he nice?”
“He’s lovely.” Katie surprised herself with how automatic her response was. “I’ll bring him round. I’ve got to go. He’s just finished making--” She tilted the phone away from her face and called out to the empty pier, “--yeah babes, spinach is my fav, how’d you know? He’s just finished making dinner. Bye.”
She dropped her mobile back into her phone with a plop, then gently, almost gingerly, unwrapped her sandwich. She lifted half of it in her hands and rewrapped the other half, setting it down beside her. She stared out towards the water for a moment, then took a bite. It felt heavy on her tongue, and flavorless, like she was chewing a mixture of rubber bands and tasteless lead. She swallowed and picked at the crust absently.
Suppose I didn’t have to say that thing about Naomi. Could have let that alone, at least.
Katie took another bite of her sandwiched and chewed slowly. Something didn’t feel right about it.
It doesn’t matter if she’ll forgive me. I didn’t want to be that person anymore. Ever since...
The texture was wrong. The texture, something sort of slimy and odd tasting--a tart sort of sweetness.
I can’t believe there was ever a moment in my life where fighting with her didn’t bother me. Why couldn’t I just let her say it?
She swallowed, and licked her lips. She blinked down at her sandwich, then lifted the top piece of bread off. A sad, soggy tomato sat atop the meat and lettuce, half-eaten. She thought she might burst into tears on the spot. She peeled it off the sandwich quickly and threw it into the water.
“I would have eaten that.”
Katie looked up. Naomi’s frame was silhouetted against the sunset, orange and pink streaking out from behind her back. Katie’s breath caught in her throat, but the moment passed quickly and Naomi sat down beside her.
“What are you doing here?” Katie asked quietly, looking down at her sandwich. She wasn’t hungry anymore.
“Just out for a stroll,” Naomi replied lightly, exhaling smoke through her nose. “Nice night for a walk.”
“You and Ems had a row, didn’t you,” Katie said pointedly. Naomi’s look was quizzical. “I came round earlier. You weren’t home. She looked like she’d been crying.”
Naomi looked down at her knees, chewing a fingernail. “I guess you could call it a row. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“You two love not knowing what’s going on. I don’t get it.” Katie wrapped her sandwich up, shaking her head. “People spend their whole lives looking for love. You two find it before you turn twenty, and now all you can do is sit here and make each other miserable. Fucking stupid if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you,” Naomi replied dully, but Katie noticed the slight smirk playing at her lips. “Anyway, you act like you haven’t the faintest idea what love is.”
Katie fought the urge to knock her out. “If love’s anything like what my idea of it is, I was better off clueless.”
“I take it you and Cook aren’t doing well?” Naomi then paused dramatically, which Katie noticed. The urge to knock her out grew stronger. “Or is it not Cook at all?”
“Piss off,” Katie replied, looking away and kneading her sandwich up between her palms.
“Ems said something about it last night,” Naomi said. Katie glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. It looked like she was choosing her words carefully. “Said she had a feeling.”
“She mentioned something of the sort. Dunno what the hell she’s on about.”
“I’m not going to pretend like I’ve got a clue what’s going on anymore,” Naomi said, sounding resigned. “Apparently I can’t even sort my own life out with my fucking girlfriend. But before you tell me and Emily love’s so simple, I think you ought to take your own advice.” Katie could feel that same smirk boring into the side of her face. “Not so easy now, is it?”
“It’s different,” Katie said. Naomi’s reply was rolling her eyes and lighting up a fag. “It is.”
“All’s I know is,” Naomi began, exhaling, “that Ems and I fought tooth and nail to get together, and I’ve wrecked it all. What’ve you wrecked? Nothing you fought tooth and nail for, I reckon. So yeah. S’ppose it is different.”
There was a long pause. Naomi took another drag of her cigarette, then plucked Katie’s sandwich out of her lap without asking. She began unwrapping it, ignoring the fact that Katie’s grip had nearly turned the bread to mush.
“Who is it, then?” Naomi asked. She bit into the sandwich and chewed, looking at Katie expectantly. “Might as well admit it now, yeah? ‘Cos I know it’s not Cook, and Ems knows it’s not Cook, and you certainly know it’s not Cook.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Katie said, closing her eyes. “Forget it.”
“I would, but I’ve got an impeccable memory. Give us a hint. Is it JJ?”
Katie remembered the scene with Emily at the pier the day before and groaned.
“That’s a no. Is it Freddie? ‘Cos I can tell you right now, that one is about as hopeless as you can get. Unless you’re into necrophilia that is, but I never pegged you as--”
“It’s fucking Effy, Naomi,” Katie said, whipping her head around and glaring at her. “Shit. It’s fucking Effy.”
Naomi’s shock made Katie’s frustration dissolve into a quiet sense of calm. Now that she’d admitted it, she couldn’t remember why she’d wanted to keep it a secret in the first place.
“Effy?” Naomi repeated, blinking. Her jaw hung open slightly, revealing a mass of chewed sandwich she’d forgotten about.
Katie was repulsed. “I’m sure I’m the only one to say this to you, but swallow.”
Naomi did as she was told, then shook her head. “Effy.”
“Yeah. Effy.” Katie sighed heavily. “Effy.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Katie looked at her, then looked back down at her lap. With her sandwich gone, she found her fingers had been kneading the air unconsciously. “What the fuck do you mean, why?”
“I mean, why? Why Effy?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because, she’s…” Katie trailed off, struggling visibly. “She’s…”
“You can’t put it into words, can you?” Naomi pressed.
Katie hesitated, then shook her head.
“Well, then.” Naomi nodded, then took another bite of sandwich. “Congratulations. You’re in love.”
~ ~ ~
Ms. Hannah Smith remembered Effy’s face all throughout her commute home. She could think of nothing else.
When she walked through her front door, she failed to remove her shoes. She did not immediately set to preparing herself dinner. She did not angst over having not read the newspaper. She did not check the forecast for the upcoming weekend. She sat at her table and took the meticulously folded paper out of her bag.
“I can’t keep this. You take it. I don’t need it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it says.”
She opened it, smoothed out the creases, and looked it over for what must have been the fiftieth time.
“I don’t know who it’s from. Dunno how I feel about it either. I feel...I don’t know how I feel.”
Hannah rubbed the bridge of her nose, drew in a deep breath, and began to read.
You are no succubus. You are no bride-and-groom believer. But you are not incapable of love.
I have done nothing but blame you. And blame you. And blame you and blame you and blame you how could you. How could you take the hand of a boy and lead him to death with a smile on your face? I have done nothing but think that since I threw a handful of dirt on him and felt my life slip away with his.
I have done nothing but blame you for being imperfect when he thought when I thought when we thought you were perfect. My love turned to hate because his was so pure and blind and I saw it and he couldn’t. You could not even bring yourself to love him.
It was not you. It was your fear. I watched you try to transform yourself, like watching a caterpillar try to transform into a butterfly and getting stuck somewhere in between it was grotesque to watch you struggle to reform a skeleton that would not budge. Because of your fear. But he was fearless.
He did not want you for his own. He wanted you to be happy. If you can do him one favor then make sure he didn’t do this in vain. He wanted you to love. You tried, out of fear, but I always watched those marbles in your head and you always loved someone else, out of love. I forgive you your fear. Now forgive yourself.
I have watched you, Effy. I watch the way you turn your eyes down. I watch the way the sun glints off your skin like it’s afraid of you. I watch the way other people watch you. I watch you look at it. There is something inside of you that comes up through your throat when you look. You always swallow and look away. But what will happen when you don’t look away?
Love someone, Effy. Not anyone. Someone. Look it in the face. You already know what it is.
Hannah sat back in her chair, blinking stupidly. She thought to light a cigarette, then chose not to. Something inside of her shifted slightly. She felt her muscles relax as she realized she could no longer fight against it, and the anxiety surrounding something as simple as being denied the morning news vanished.
“I forgive myself my fear.”
And in that one instant, Ms. Hannah Smith simultaneously gave up control and forgave the faceless man who raped her when she was twenty-one years old.