On Knots and Unravelling - Chapter Seven
For author's notes and thank yous, see chapter one
(Halfway! Thanks to everyone who is following the story.)
Chapter Seven
The weather’s turning, finally. The temperature’s risen to the point when Naomi’s breath no longer fogs around her as she’s walking to the Fitch house.
The sun is shining, and Naomi’s got a daft pop song stuck in her head, and she briefly wonders if it is possible for her chest to actually explode as she turns the corner up to Katie’s (Emily’s) house.
Maybe, today, she might just walk in with Emily. Maybe Katie will want to take the bus, and Naomi will suggest the healthy option, and Emily might just think that’s a good idea, and they could dawdle. Or get lost. Or accidentally get on a train and go to Bath instead. Really, the possibilities are endless.
When she arrives, Emily’s waiting for her.
Naomi finds, if she concentrates, she can wheel her bike up to Emily without falling over it or dropping it. And Emily is far easier to look at if she does so out of the corner of the corner of her eye, so that’s what she does, pretends to be taking in the suburban landscape instead.
‘All right?’ It’s not quite the tone she was going for, her voice sounds a bit strangled in the morning air, but it isn’t bad for a first attempt. Besides, she not even sure what tone to use when speaking to Emily, finds Emily completely impossible to read at the best of times. Naomi fumbles for her fags to hide her awkwardness. Emily sighs next to her.
‘Bit early for that, no?’
Naomi nods distractedly, gets it to light on the second attempt. As she’s exhaling Emily reaches across her and pinches one out of the still open packet. Naomi raises her eyebrows in protest.
‘Developing a bit of a habit of stealing my stuff, you are. Anything else? My bike?’
Emily just smiles quietly at her and removes the lighter from Naomi’s unresisting hand. Naomi catches herself staring and regroups, furiously counting lampposts to avoid being caught. Emily clears her throat.
‘Nae. Have a word with Katie about Cook. She’s being a right mopey cow, and I can’t figure out why she’s not answering his calls.’
Naomi reckons that Emily probably can, and a quick glance at Emily confirms it. Oh, great. She nods vaguely, and props herself up on the wall. Emily tuts quietly under her breath, and re-adjusts her bag. ‘Anyway, I’m going to head, I’ll see you in Politics, yeah?’
Really, Naomi’s worried that if she says anything too many words will come out, so she settles for nodding and digging out her phone to text Katie so she’ll hurry the fuck up. When she looks up again Emily’s already turning the corner.
--
When she eventually emerges, Katie has immaculate make-up and red eyes. Naomi suggests they skive off the first two lessons and go get a coffee instead, which Katie pulls a face at because she’s on her detox from the binge that happened after she gave up on her New Year’s Resolutions, but falls into step by Naomi anyway.
The coffee shop owner recognises them from when they used to duck school and eat doughnuts there instead. Naomi grins at him, safe in the knowledge that he can no longer identify the uniforms and ring up their headmaster. She buys a double espresso and a fruit tea for Katie.
Katie looks so mournful Naomi sits next to her rather than opposite, and squeezes her knee briefly.
‘Hey misery. Your sister is worried about you.’
Katie coughs shortly, and swirls the teabag with a spoon, squeezing it till the water turns a violent red.
‘Whatever. Emily’s permanently worried about me. She’s quite annoying like that, I think we’ve discussed this.’
They have, except now annoying doesn’t stick to Emily like it used to, no matter how Naomi manoeuvres the word in her mind. She puts it to one side, focuses on the twin she’s got in front of her. The important one.
‘Katie. I got it wrong about Cook. I think you’d be good together.’
Katie stops glaring at her tea and glares at her instead. ‘Is that because you’ve decided I’m a twat too and so we deserve each other?’
Oh shit. Naomi tries not to laugh, and only just manages it. ‘No, drama queen, we had a chat, and I reckon I misjudged him. Caught up in my own drama, as per usual. He’s a decent boy. And he likes you.’
Katie flushes at that, and looks away quickly. ‘Right. Well. We’ll see, shall we? Have you finished with your dramas, by the way? Not that you ever told me what they were about.’
Naomi laughs, and shrugs, attempting enigmatic. It doesn’t work, and Katie’s snorting at her again.
‘Jesus, you are a right fuck up, darling. Seriously. Go get therapy, yeah?’
Naomi nods heartily, and gets up to buy Katie a doughnut, just in case.
--
They don’t get back to college till lunch, and even then it is only because they decided going to all of the effort of disguising the remaining gin in a lemonade bottle would only be worth it if they drank it somewhere they shouldn’t.
They have two bottles, one of gin and one of actual lemonade, and they get through it by taking a mouthful of one and then the other incredibly unsubtly during double English Lit. By the end of the lesson Naomi’s arguing fiercely with the teacher over Dorian Gray’s sexuality, whilst Katie attempts to balance her pen on her nose.
--
Cook finds them after college, as Naomi’s deciding whether she’s safe to ride her bike.
‘Ladies. A fine effort in English. Blondie, I’m in awe.’
‘Fuck off’ she replies cheerfully, still rooting through her bag for the key to the bike lock. Katie hiccoughs next to her, and then glowers at Cook.
‘Why you ignoring me then, wanker?’
Naomi squints at Katie, and wonders where she’s got that line of attack from. Cook seems equally baffled.
‘Nah, love, you’ve been ignoring me. Like, where you been at? Me side’s all cold where you used to sit.’
Katie appears to take a moment to channel her inner Beyonce, and Naomi realises they’re too drunk to be having a sensible conversation. She considers flinging herself on top of Katie to smother whatever she’s about to say, but it’s probably too late to rescue.
‘Actually, James, would it be too much to expect some kind of effort on your part? You are far too scruffy for me to be chasing you, and I’m not a greyhound, and you aren’t a rabbit, so clearly, you’ve been ignoring me.’
Greyhound similes at this time in the afternoon? Oh sweet Jesus. Naomi abandons the bike, concentrates on grabbing Katie’s elbow and tugging her off in a safer direction. Unfortunately, Katie’s suddenly become as manoeuvrable as the Titanic, and has morphed into a slurring Germaine Greer.
‘Besides, you’re not all that, you know? You can’t just whistle and expect me to sit on your lap. Bloody...chivalry, yeah babes? Fucking...woo me. Open doors for me and shit. You selfish twat. I can’t keep opening all these bloody doors myself, and Naomi’s a helpless dickhead at the best of times. No upper body strength. Embarrassing. Also, I could be opening them doors, my arms are fine, I just don’t want to. Also: flowers. And wash more.’
Well, that should do it. Cook’s face has gone an odd shade of purple, and this really would be the moment for a graceful exit right here. Katie eventually complies, although not without stumbling once, and turning to yell over her shoulder.
‘Also, babes, tell Freds Naomi fancies him, yeah? Their babies would have excellent hair and moping skills.’
Naomi briefly wonders whether Emily would ever speak to her again if she accidentally smothered Katie with her coat, before shoving Katie into a walk again.
--
Katie cries a bit on the walk back, and smears her makeup quite dramatically. By the time Naomi deposits her on the Fitch doorstep she knows she hasn’t got a hope. Emily takes one glance at her and sighs.
‘Great, Naomi. Still sad, and now blind drunk too. Excellent work.’
‘Mmpf, yeah, she also thinks she’s a greyhound, so I dunno what went wrong.’
Katie wags a finger under her nose. ‘Not a greyhound, goddamit. An independent woman. Now, I have coursework due in for tomorrow, so if you’ll excuse me.’
She weaves in the direction of the stairs, and only misses her footing twice on the way up. When Naomi looks at Emily again she’s already staring stonily up at her.
‘Good work genius. Now I have to sober her up before Mum and Dad get in.’
Naomi sighs hugely, and throws her hands in the air. ‘Look, sorry, ok? It seemed like a good idea at the time. And besides, I’m apparently now betrothed to Freddie, so it could be worse, right?’
Emily’s face twists oddly, and for a second Naomi’s sure she’s trying not to laugh, but too quickly the moment’s gone, and she’s left with serious Emily again.
‘Bye, Naomi.’
Naomi nods, and wanders off. When the front door closes she considers going back and knocking, although whether it is to offer help with Katie or to just say ‘and another thing’ she’s not clear.
Maybe not to Bath then.
--
Naomi checks her messages later that evening, when the headache starts to ease. To her alarm, she finds one from Effy blinking at her.
You and fred then huh? Sweet.
Oh Christ. Naomi almost falls over herself in an effort to explain, but the reply from Effy shows she shouldn’t have panicked.
I figured. You’d be crap together. Terrible hair.
Naomi breathes a sigh of relief that an insult should never merit, but ends up smiling anyway, because it’s hard not to in the face of Effy’s unending rudeness.
Not long after that, she gets another message.
Freddie thought you might like to no that Cook’s gone out and bought a pile of door stops. Have fun 2moro.
Naomi can’t help it, she’s laughing already.
--
So. Again.
This time when she rounds the corner it is with a certain amount of trepidation, because she knows what’s coming and isn’t sure if it will go well or horribly, horribly badly.
Cook’s sat on the wall opposite. She’d be surprised, but he’d rung her and asked for the address earlier, and who was she to stand in the way of young love’s dream?
As she approaches she realised that he’s managed to find a bow tie from somewhere. It’s perfect really.
Emily emerges as Naomi approaches, and glares at the pair of them.
‘Is he taking the piss, or what?’
Naomi shrugs whilst Cook claims an attack on his honour. He gestures violently at the flowers in his hand.
‘Ems, seriously, can you not see quality flowers before you? £3.50 from the garage.’
Naomi leaves them to it, as Emily is questioning Cook’s intentions. She pushes the front door open and trudges up the stairs, finds Katie hiding behind the curtain, watching the events on the street. Naomi grins at her.
‘Come on, then. He’s washed and everything.’
Katie glares at her briefly, before turning back to the window. ‘He’s blatantly taking the piss, Naomi. Also, why do I feel like I should be blaming this on you, somehow?’
Naomi sits down on Katie’s bed, which leaves her staring at Emily’s side of the room. There’s a massive Blondie poster up there which she doesn’t remember. How long has that been there? Naomi quickly decides that now is not the time to ask, and pokes Katie in the side.
‘Kate. I think he’s genuine. But maybe, slightly sarcastically overly genuine, in order to remind you that you said some stupid things yesterday. So I’d go with it, yeah? He’s not being mean.’
By the time they’ve got downstairs, Cook’s got his arm around Emily.
‘You walking with me then, Katie-kins? Otherwise I’m having this one, gay or not.’
Katie summons a distressed little ‘ugh’ from somewhere, and turns abruptly on her heel and stalks off down the road. Cook laughs, and bounces over the road towards Naomi, wrapping her up in a hug that suffocates.
‘You look after the little one then, Nomes, I need to go check if Katie needs carrying over any fucking puddles or sommat.’
Cook’s vanished down the street before Emily calls across to her.
‘Come on then.’
--
They take the long route to Roundview. By the time they’re halfway they’re already late, but it doesn’t matter because Naomi’s got Emily shaking with mirth at a re-telling of Katie’s outburst at Cook yesterday.
‘Oh god... so we blame this morning’s scene on you, do we?’
Naomi shrugs happily. ‘Well, a bit. I told him where you live. But it was mainly Katie’s own doing, for the record.’
Emily doesn’t say anything in reply, just shakes her head, as if washing her hands of the pair of them. The red of her hair is ridiculously bright in the morning sunshine, and Naomi wonders if Emily’s started dyeing her hair more frequently than Katie, because she can’t remember ever seeing it that colour before.
They decide to catch a bus for the rest of the way, because Emily concludes Naomi’s missed enough of her education recently. They misjudge it though, because it is now the height of rush hour, and they end up standing near the front, both clinging to the same pole. Naomi’s only just got used to the motion of the bus when Emily abruptly speaks, clearly continuing an internal line of thought.
‘You both say the stupidest things whilst you’re drunk.’
Naomi smiles to herself, and addresses Emily’s ear, because the bus really is crowded and she can’t stand opposite her without also standing on someone’s foot.
‘I know, right? It’s probably why we get on like we do.’
Emily’s profile changes slightly as she smiles, and she adjusts her grip on the pole as the bus sways around the corner.
‘Probably. And, I guess... sometimes you do some pretty good things when you’re drunk. That makes up for it.’
Several gears clash in Naomi’s head when she remembers the last ‘thing’ she did when she was drunk and alone with Emily.
Emily’s cheeks have gone slightly pink, and Naomi realises with a sudden jolt that Emily’s hand was now touching hers on the pole.
Not holding, just touching. The right side of her little finger is touching the top of Emily’s thumb. It could be completely innocent, but Naomi’s heart is hammering in her throat and she’s forgotten all of her witty comebacks.
They stay silent until the bus reaches their stop, which is either five seconds or five years later, Naomi can’t tell. When they get off Emily gives her a quick little smile before setting off in the direction of her lesson. Naomi thinks about following, thinks about doing something she shouldn’t, before deciding she isn’t brave enough. Yet.
--
Effy sits opposite her in the canteen.
‘Afternoon Cupid.’
Naomi tips her milkshake towards her in greeting. Glancing at her tray, Naomi is unsurprised to discover that Effy’s lunch appears to consist of some digestives and four triangles of Dairylea. She gestures at it with her elbow.
‘Yum.’ Effy tuts her, and goes about spreading the cheese with one of the canteen’s plastic knives. Three bites in, Effy puts down the biscuit, and starts out of nowhere.
‘Doors are such a challenge usually, don’t you find?’
Cook had seemingly spent much of the morning walking in front of Katie, and, with a hammer, ramming each door she encountered open with a door stop. Eventually it had been confiscated from him, but about half the doors in college were now immovably wedged open, to the horror of the caretakers.
Naomi grins briefly at the memory of Katie’s mortified face, but says nothing. She realises she’s not seen her for a while, and cranes her neck around to scan the canteen.
Effy’s picked up her biscuit again. ‘They’re snogging around the back of the gym. Very romantic.’
Naomi does her best to grin internally, but when Effy catches her eye they’re both smiling at each other. Effy sobers first.
‘So. Changes things somewhat, doesn’t it?’
She’s not really sure what Effy’s talking about, but it sounds dangerous, so Naomi avoids it, instead gesturing over her shoulder.
‘You know who’s staring at you?’ she asks, hoping for Effy to react. Effy doesn’t, she just sits there, calmly chomping on a cheese covered digestive (and really, who does that?)
‘Sophia. I am her muse. Or something. Jealous?’
Naomi shrugs, embarrassed suddenly. Effy sighs. ‘You shouldn’t be. She doesn’t think she loves me. Just thinks I’m marvellous. Quite disappointing.’
The milkshake’s gotten too warm to be appetising, so Naomi pushes it away. ‘Right. Well, be nice. Can’t have her switching and deciding Pandora’s her idol, that’d be an impossible impersonation to pull off.’
Effy just sits there, methodically working her way through her biscuits. Naomi thinks about leaving when the silence stretches beyond comfort, but then Effy pipes up.
‘Know who’s sitting with Sophia and trying not to look at you?’
Bugger. Naomi’s got one guess, and can tell from Effy’s face she’d be right. She can feel her ears start to glow. Effy just smiles at her embarrassment.
‘Popular, aren’t we?’
When Naomi glances around, Emily isn’t looking at her. She’s slightly disappointed. When she looks back at Effy she’s smirking.
‘Oops. Could be awkward, that.’
Naomi tries a lie. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
It falls flat, because Effy just shakes her head. ‘Yes, you do. You’ve been making eyes at each other for weeks. Proper lovely to watch.’
Naomi tells herself to be calm, just because something is obvious to Effy doesn’t mean it is obvious to the rest of the world. Effy raises her eyebrows at her.
‘It might work, but you’ll have to be careful with the other one.’
Fuck it. Cards on the table.
‘Katie’s not homophobic.’
Effy rolls her eyes, like Naomi’s just disappointed her. ‘I know that. But what she is, is territorial. She’s getting better, but you, Naomi, are still hers. Which means you aren’t allowed to be Emily’s.’
Naomi stands, half wanting to walk off, half wanting to discuss the situation further with Effy, because god knows she wants to talk to someone about it. Effy just shrugs at her.
‘Have fun then. And you know where I am.’
--
When she gets home she ticks off number three. Katie had text her saying she wouldn’t be walking back with her, and that Cook turned out to be quite a nice boy. Naomi half smiles as she reads it again, and then deletes it.
It’s half four. Naomi’s got a whole heap of notes to be catching up on, as well as that extra essay she had earnt herself on the topic of Dorian Gray after her outburst in English. She sits at her desk and picks up a pen.
By five she’s done nothing but click her pen on and off about a million times, until she starts to annoy herself and flings it across the room.
She checks her phone again, but there’s nothing.
After she’s made herself a cup of tea there’s still nothing.
Naomi thinks about going to bed, but it’s only quarter past five and that would be ridiculous. Besides, University Challenge is on the telly later.
She picks up her phone again, but drops it immediately afterward. Dammit, she’s not going risk ruining her friendship with Katie by herself.
Naomi pulls on her coat instead, yells to her mum that she’s going for a cycle. Gina calls after her something about spaghetti bolognese, but she’s not hungry.
She knows where she wants to go, so heads in the opposite direction instead.
--
She’s reached the edge of town before she lets herself stop, and check her phone.
There’s a message from Emily. Naomi feels her heart clench.
Hey? :)
It’s not much, but it’s enough. Naomi almost falls over in the effort to simultaneously turn around and shove her phone back into her pocket safely.
--
She cycles carefully, because dying is not on the agenda. It takes her about a year to get there. The street lights flicker on as she cycles, and the stars start to creep out.
Naomi’s got it all planned, so there’s no dithering when she arrives. She hops off her bike, and sits on the wall opposite.
Hey. Katie back yet?
The light is on in the twins’ room, and she makes sure she avoids sitting in the street lamp’s light. The reply is almost immediate.
Yeah, downstairs watching telly with Cook. Dad already loves him. It’s disgusting! X
Naomi has never text Emily for a chat before, can’t escape the feeling that even if this were done from her house Katie would have questions. She ignores that feeling, concentrates on not losing all inhibitions at the sight of the kiss at the end of Emily’s message.
Outside.
The upstairs curtain twitches, and then Emily draws them back fully. Naomi smiles unwillingly, and raises a hand in greeting. She can tell from here that Emily’s grinning, and waits for her phone to buzz.
Stalker. :)
Naomi laughs and flips Emily off, who looks like she’s trying to giggle silently. Naomi takes a moment to squash her heart back down into her chest, and fumbles with her phone with increasingly cold fingers.
Don’t come out, obviously. Just wanted to say that I’ve been a bit of a relentless idiot recently, because you were confusing me. I’m less confused now, wanted to tell you.
Naomi’s nervous as she waits for an answer, falls back into the habit of biting her lip. Emily’s focused on her phone, and god, it’s ridiculous that a person can feel so much, Naomi doesn’t know what to do with herself.
You’ve been confusing me too. And I wish I could come out.
Naomi shakes her head immediately, and Emily’s flapping her hand at her whilst rolling her eyes, a universal gesture for I know, relax. Naomi grins again unwillingly, and starts texting again.
I’ll try to figure something out. But, I just really wanted to see you, and say sorry.
Emily doesn’t text back that time, just puts a hand up to the glass and mouths ‘thank you’. Naomi thinks she might explode, considers going to knock on the door, claiming a Politics emergency that only Emily’s notes can sort. She doesn’t though, remembers that she’d vowed to do things one at a time. Instead she waves, and makes a gesture that she’s freezing. Emily grins and nods, waves back with a small shrug.
--
The spag blog is stone cold, and Naomi bungs it into the microwave. Gina calls over her shoulder from the living room couch.
‘What the fuck, darling?’
‘Nothing mum. Stuff needed sorting, that’s all.’
Naomi can hear her mum pour herself another glass of wine, and grabs an empty glass herself, before going to join her on the couch. Gina scoots up, and Naomi joins her, just in time to see Northumbria get trounced by Sheffield University.
At the end of the show Gina scoops the plate of Naomi’s knee. ‘Katie okay?’
Naomi nods vaguely, ‘Hopefully mum, hopefully.’
Gina makes a noise of approval. ‘Good. It’s much better when you two are getting on.’
Nodding again, Naomi feels a slight stab of guilt. Then her phone buzzes next to her thigh, and she’s up on her feet and retreating to her room, yelling her thanks for dinner down after her.
It’s Emily.
Figure something out quick, yeah?
It paints the room a different colour.
Chapter Eight