On Knots and Unravelling - Chapter Ten
For author's notes and thank yous, see chapter one
Chapter Ten
It’s a kind of painful perfection, being with Emily.
They spend brief snatches of time together, which never feel enough, despite probably being all too much.
She learns details, for those couple of months. An entirely different set of truths to the ones she has about Katie, and they’re so utterly separate Naomi grows increasingly frustrated that she can’t avoid the comparison.
And it isn’t because they look the same (they don’t) or laugh the same (they don’t), but rather a simple case of her mind suggesting that there’s a crash coming, soon.
Emily tucks her knees up under her chin whenever she sits on a park bench. She doesn’t drink neat spirits anymore, and laughs quite a lot when Naomi turns up with a bottle of vodka on one occasion. Naomi is informed for the first time that she is terrible at buying presents, and she’s petulant, for a moment, because it isn’t supposed to be a present present, until Emily kisses her, laughing as she does so.
Another time, when they know they’re safe because Katie’s out with Cook, Emily arrives with her bike, which it turns out she can’t ride for toffee. There’s a lake, and Emily has this madcap idea of going swimming. Naomi nixes that one by spreading out a blanket and tugging Emily down to the ground, because, really, why would anyone want to go swimming when they could be doing this, instead?
Afterwards, Naomi traces a route with her lips, from Emily’s earlobe to her collar bone. She finds that she wants to leave a mark, a signature that only she understands, but knows she shouldn’t. Her hand reaches for Emily’s instead, and they lie like that, counting stars.
Other times, in the gym cupboard, or in the parkland just behind college, or once in Effy’s room, they try to pretend that no one else exists, and say normal things, or what they imagine normal things would sound like, in altered circumstances.
It always ends up the same though. They talk about Katie, in an entirely circular manner, about when she’ll find out and what she might do, until it hurts Naomi’s heart too much to think of it. So she kisses Emily instead.
She’s not going to be able to choose one, over the other.
--
Emily texts her just before, as a warning, but it is still a bit of a shock, when Katie arrives with Cook, early one Saturday morning.
She’s got this plan of a day out, she announces, of a group bonding session. As Katie waffles through the benefits of this, all the while making her and Naomi a cup of tea in Naomi’s kitchen, Naomi finds herself catching Cook’s eye, question written broad on her face.
Cook looks away, and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, and that’s when the tension in Naomi’s stomach knots and grows.
Katie’s still there. ‘So, yeah, I thought shopping, which I know isn’t like, a burning passion for either of you, but I’ll go around all the charity shops with you, Nae, and James, you can feel me up in any appropriately clean looking changing rooms you care to name.’
This sounds like a hideous plan, but Cook is mumbling assent, and Naomi doesn’t really know how to say no without sounding like a dick, so.
--
Katie nips upstairs to say hi to Gina before they leave, and now that she has the space to ask questions, Naomi finds she doesn’t really know how to phrase them.
She settles for ‘Didn’t have you pegged as a shopping man, James.’
Cook grimaces, before opening the biscuit tin, inserting a whole Hobnob into his mouth without flinching. He sprays crumbs as he answers.
‘It’s Cook to you, love. And I’m fucking not, for the record. Just making the girl happy, innit?’
Naomi nods like she understands, and inspects her nails circumspectly. She’d been hoping to see Emily today, and it is that which makes her answer without thinking.
‘Yeah, well, I don’t get why I should have to be there. At least you get a blowjob at the end of the day.’
Cook doesn’t say anything for a long time, and when Naomi does look at him again he’s standing oddly, gripping the counter top behind him hard enough to send his knuckles white. On catching her eye he takes a deep breath, and shakes his shoulders a little, swinging his arms around him to release energy.
‘Think you being there makes her happy too, though fuck knows why, recently. You’re her fucking best friend, Naomi.’
Naomi stands up sharply, and doesn’t really want to get in a fight, but she feels her hackles rising anyway, and goodness knows all this anger needs an outlet somehow.
‘And what would you know about it, Cook? You, who’s been shagging her for the last... eight weeks? Nine? How the fuck do you know anything about us?’
Cook’s clenching his jaw hard now, but still manages to talk in a neutral tone.
‘I know enough to know the past six weeks she been asking me why you might be avoiding her. I know the last three nights she’s been crying.’
He may as well have punched her in the gut, the way it sucks all the air out of her body. Naomi looks away, stares at the kitchen table top hard, willing her eyes not to give her away. Cook doesn’t move either, and for the longest time Naomi considers the benefits of a truth, and the aftermath of an explosion, rather than the sense of foreboding.
They hear Katie on the stairs eventually, and she’s like a small, immaculately dressed truce flag, cheerfully smiling and dragging the pair of them out the door.
--
She makes a big effort. She finds appropriately hideous items in the charity shops, and tries them all on without the slightest hint of irony.
When she pulls back the curtain, Katie’s look of horror reminds her of too many things. Naomi grins.
‘I thought with, um, flip flops?’
Katie’s on her feet in an instant, pulling the changing room curtain closed as a nurse would do at a particularly nasty medical emergency.
‘Naomi, have you completely lost your mind? You look like a colour-blind horse. Here, for god’s sake...’
Katie darts around her like a harassed butterfly, pulling the clothes off Naomi whilst muttering expletives under her breath. Naomi smirks to herself over the top of Katie’s head, and goes for dickish, because she’s in that sort of mood.
‘Not sure Cook would be happy about the speed you’re undressing me.’
The retort comes back instantly.
‘Yes, well, he’d understand seeing as it was this or stabbing out my own eyes.’
Things are less strained, for a while, after Cook sees them both emerging from the changing rooms, laughing. Naomi puts her arm around Katie’s shoulders as they leave the shop, although what she’s trying to prove, and to whom, she isn’t certain.
--
Later, after Katie’s announced she can go no further without a cappuccino, Naomi watches Cook warily as he sighs and shifts closer to her, using a spare foot to slide the shopping bags further under their table.
He takes a quick glance towards the queue where Katie is stood, fiddling with her phone, before holding a fist out towards her. Naomi glares at it momentarily, and then realises he’s offering a fist bump, which is such a boy thing to do she can’t help rolling her eyes, and pats the top of it instead.
‘Whatever, Cook.’
He slumps back in his chair, and starts tearing a stray napkin into strips. ‘I’m not going to like, tell her, or anything, if that’s what you’ve been fretting bout.’
Naomi hadn’t been, but is now, because how the hell does he know? They’d been so careful. She swivels quickly on her stool, fear making her words sharp all over again.
‘What the fuck, Cook? How the fuck do you know? If you say anything to her I swear to god...’
Cook throws his hands up in the air, and laughs briefly.
‘Oi, oi, chill your boots mrs. Like, even I know that it meant nothing, you were just upset, yeah? I ain’t going to go scupper my own relationship because some crying girl decides to plant one on me.’
Oh. Naomi tries to simmer down into a slightly more appropriate reaction, and crosses her arms huffily.
‘Right, well, duh, I’m not likely to kiss you if I’m thinking straight, am I?’
Cook laughs again, and pats her on the knee briefly. ‘Atta girl. So leave it with the whole paranoid android routine, yeah?’
Katie’s heading back trying to balance a slice of carrot cake on a coffee mug, and Cook springs up to help her. As they settle, Naomi finds herself taking deep breaths, as if her body is trying to replace her missing common sense with oxygen.
--
The carrot cake turns out to be for her.
Naomi can still taste it as they get on the bus later that afternoon, and thinks about thanking Katie again for it, before reminding herself that there is grateful and then there is just downright suspicious. She gets out her phone instead, and manages not to squawk with alarm when Katie reaches over, and plucks it out of her hands.
‘Mind if I call Emily? My battery’s just died, and I’ve forgotten what she asked me to pick up from the corner shop.’
Naomi’s almost certain that she’s deleted every message from Emily, but can’t remember the last time she emptied out her sent box. And that is nothing compared to the horror of her caller ID flashing up on Emily’s phone, and all the possible things Emily might say as a way of greeting her. She turns her head away, so she doesn’t have to watch the comprehension bloom on Katie’s face, and instead concentrates on not letting her heart climb up her throat.
‘Hey Ems, I... did you just call me babe?’
Naomi’s gripping the seat beneath for dear life, and strains to make out the other end of the conversation. Her heart feels as though it is on the verge of failure, and she tries not to sigh too massively when Katie flaps her hand in dismissal, and starts talking again.
‘Whatever, listen, what did you say we’d run out off...’
Naomi’s head is still spinning when the bus gets to her stop, and Katie’s waving her goodbye.
--
Later that evening, Emily rings her.
‘Hey?’
‘Hey, it’s actually me. Though Christ, try not to let her use your phone, okay?’
Naomi smiles, and lies back on her bed. ‘Sorry, her phone was dead, and I didn’t know how to stop her without pressing the emergency stop button, or something. What did you say?’
‘Told her I was expecting Effy to call me back. Don’t think she was that interested, to be honest.’
Naomi hums approvingly, and nods her head. ‘Nice work Fitch. You’d be well suited to MI5.’
Emily laughs a little at that, and then the tone of her voice changes slightly. ‘She’s gone out with Cook.’
‘Oh.’ Naomi clears her throat, asking the obvious. ‘Want to come over? For a bit?’
Emily sighs, and Naomi can tell she’s grinning. ‘Well, duh. If you don’t mind. I’ll say I’m at Effy’s. Seeing as that one is working so well.’
After they hang up, Naomi finds herself biting her lip, before standing up to tidy her room, because apparently Emily doesn’t find the tramp lair decor she usually goes for very sexy.
She can see the photo of her and Katie out of the corner of her eye, and chooses to ignore it, just this once.
(They’ve been getting risky, they know it).
--
Afterwards, when Emily’s lying curled over, tucked into Naomi’s side, Naomi flashes to an image of Katie crying, and clears her throat.
‘Em. I think, I need to spend a bit more time with your sister. She’s been, um, Cook says she feels like I’m avoiding her.’
Emily stretches for Naomi’s fingers, knits them together briefly.
‘Well, you have, kinda.’
Naomi frowns, and cranes her neck around to kiss Emily’s forehead. ‘Right, and for an excellent reason, but, Katie’s not the type to mope around really. She’ll have questions before too long.’
Emily mumbles something unintelligible, before pushing herself up onto her elbows.
‘We could answer them, maybe?’
That’s still scary, the thought of sitting Katie down and saying the words out loud, and Naomi flinches away from it unthinkingly.
‘Right, and, we will, but maybe, after I’ve got her back in a good mood, don’t you think?’
Emily’s lips purse, and she says nothing, for a moment, before nodding, and levering herself out of bed. Naomi’s eyes follow her around the room as Emily hunts for her clothes.
‘Ok. You know best. She’s your friend, after all. Anyway, I’d best be going, she’ll be back soon, no doubt.’
Naomi’s almost certain there’s no intended snipe at her in Emily’s words, but they sting nevertheless, as Emily kisses her goodbye, and shuts the door with a click. She breathes out a heavy sigh, and wonders when she allowed her life to get so complicated.
--
She remembers how to be Katie’s friend all over again.
It mainly involves being a reliable, slightly twatish, sparring partner, and Naomi wears a cycle helmet for the first time in years, on the way over to Katie’s the next day before college.
Katie wets herself at the sight of it, predictably, and it is their equivalent of small talk, Katie railing on her wardrobe, but it gets the job done.
‘What the hell are you wearing on your head? You expecting a meteor strike?’
Naomi pats it obnoxiously, before grinning down at her.
‘Safety first, isn’t it?’
‘But good god, it is orange. And, there is literally nothing in the world that could make it look good. Oh Jesus, come here.’
Katie’s already reached up, and is fumbling for the clip, despite Naomi’s half-hearted protest. Katie flings it into a bush with a dramatic gesture, and glares at her.
‘See what happens when we don’t hang out?’
Naomi snorts despite herself, and nods.
‘Yes, I see that now, lucky you caught me before I turned up in a clown suit.’
Katie’s muttering something about there being very little difference between that and what Naomi usually wears, and they walk in together for the first time in weeks.
--
It takes a week of nonsense before Naomi’s certain she’s back in Katie’s good books. She doesn’t enjoy seeing less of Emily, but she does enjoy seeing Katie more often, like her life has suddenly turned into a Fitch themed game of seesaw.
They bitch quietly throughout the assemblies, and skive off Thursday afternoon to go buy doughnuts, and generally do all the things Naomi used to (still does) enjoy doing, before she made her own life difficult by realising the other Fitch twin made her want to embark on a whole different set of activities.
She catches Emily alone once, that week, waiting under a bus stop in a sudden downpour. Naomi plans to apologise, to say all the right things, but can’t bring herself to waste the time, instead just kisses her, until Emily’s hands curl up around her collar, and she’s pulling Naomi towards her like too close will never be enough.
When they break apart they’re both breathing more heavily than propriety should allow, and Emily sighs and blinks a couple of times, before turning her eyes away, to look down the street.
‘I just...okay, Naomi. But, soon, okay. It has to be soon. I can’t...’
Naomi’s nodding, because this entire week has made her feel like she might explode under the pressure.
‘I’ll tell her, okay? And then we can...take it from there.’
It’s not quite a good enough promise, she knows, but it’s the best she can do, for now.
--
It feels like the start of summer, the day it all goes wrong.
A couple more days of stalemate have passed, and Naomi’s wondering how to even begin a conversation on the subject, when Effy materialises at her side.
‘Hey, lover. Come for a fag with us, after.’ Naomi hasn’t really got time to process and respond, before Effy drifts away, apparently supremely uninterested.
Katie swoops down next to Naomi, moments after, and it certainly isn’t like she still hates Effy, but there’s a certain tension, despite it all.
‘What does she want?’
So, maybe a half truth, here, for once. ‘She said we should join them, after college. It’d be good I think, to get a bit more involved.’
Katie sniffs once, and doesn’t exactly say yes, but it is enough to set the hope curling in the pit of Naomi’s stomach.
--
It’s a bit awkward, especially after Katie announces she doesn’t smoke, but Freddie seems as pleased as punch that Cook is back in the fold, and the two of them end up chasing JJ around the quad like they’re nine years old.
Sophia pipes up from nowhere that all boys are wankers, and it is enough to send Emily off into fits of laughter. Effy adds that they’re good for cock, and it is so awfully crude Naomi can’t help the little noise of disgust she makes, despite Katie nodding and muttering too right with a quick smile in Effy’s direction.
Katie settles a little hesitantly on the wall next to Pandora, who immediately offers to share her skittles with her. ‘Us non-nicco heads have to stick together, y’see, can’t be having all of these thinking life is just about rizlers and the whatnot. S’about other stuff too. Like vodka jellyshots, and surf and turf, you know, not snogging ashtrays.’
Katie nods cautiously at the end of this, and adds ‘right’, whilst peering into the offered pack. Emily shuffles down towards Naomi under the pretence of reaching for her lighter, and they just sit there, quiet in the sunshine. Naomi’s not brave enough to catch Katie’s eye for the longest time, just focuses on Effy and Sophia, who appears to be showing Effy how to make a sundial out of twigs, in case Effy ever has a time keeping emergency. Eventually she can’t help rolling her eyes in bafflement, and that’s when she looks over to Katie, who appears to have been watching them for a while.
Katie smiles oddly at her for a second, before turning and engaging Pandora in more incomprehensible conversation. Maybe, Naomi finds herself thinking, and leans slightly into Emily’s shoulder, just for a second.
Maybe.
--
The mistake, in retrospect, was leaving Emily’s bag behind when the two of them head off to buy some drinks for everyone.
The second after they’ve rounded the corner, Emily slips her hand into Naomi’s, and squeezes so tightly Naomi knows she must be feeling it too. Naomi grinned down at her.
‘Going well, isn’t it?’
Emily says nothing, and just sighs contentedly, before reaching up on tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Naomi’s cheek.
‘We’ll see.’
--
There’s no hand-holding on the way back, because Naomi’s got two six packs of cokes to carry, and Emily’s got the equivalent of Sprites. Emily’s been moaning about the weight for the past five minutes, so heads straight to the wall to set them down, leaving Naomi to spot the problem first.
Katie’s got Emily’s phone in her hand.
Shit.
Emily still doesn’t notice, is too busy asking who wants what to notice that her sister is glaring at her phone with an increasingly perplexed look on her face. Naomi’s heart is hammering in her throat, and she only half registers Effy leaning in the shade just beyond Katie, watching Katie too.
Katie’s gone unnaturally still, and Naomi’s ears are burning now, because she’s remembering all the texts that she probably shouldn’t have sent, the ones that she’d never dream of showing anybody else. And it’s way too much to hope that Emily’s deleted all of them.
Eventually, after a small eternity, Emily finally asks Katie what she would like to drink, and trips over her own question when she realises what’s going on.
‘Oh, hey, um, that’s mine.’
It’s a hopeless, hopeless attempt, and Katie whips around to glare at her.
‘Well, sorry Emily, excuse me for not realising you were storing about a million private little secrets on here.’
Oh, fuck. Naomi battles with the urge to run away, but stays still, wilting in the sunshine, and the intensity of the glare that Katie now directs towards her.
The words are cold, when they come.
‘What the fuck, Naomi?’
‘Kate, it’s...’
‘Don’t you dare fucking Kate me, Naomi. What the hell?’
Cook, having spotted something was amiss, comes ambling over, rests a gentle hand on Katie’s shoulder. He grins hesitantly.
‘All right, girls? What’s the stress?’
Katie laughs shortly, and is standing up now, taking a couple of steps towards Naomi, talking to Cook over her shoulder.
‘The stress, babes, is that Naomi thinks it is fucking appropriate to ignore me whilst she fucks my little sister.’
Emily’s trying to butt in, from a million miles away, but Naomi knows it’s her job to say something here, like there’s a string of words she can formulate to make this whole mess go away.
They don’t come, and after a moment JJ is waffling on about the semantics of Emily being called a ‘little sister, seeing as technically as twins you share equal life experience’, until Sophia puts a hand over his mouth and he stumbles to a halt.
Eventually Naomi shrugs unhappily, and shares at her shoes.
‘We were going to tell you, it’s just...’
It’s a pathetic attempt, and Katie snorts, before drawing herself up as high as she can. She turns, and sets Emily’s phone down neatly on the wall behind her.
‘Well fuck. Fucking, fine. You were going to tell me. That makes up for the billion lies, you selfish fucking cow. Oh, shit, this is why you’ve been a fucking retardedly shit friend, the past half year, isn’t it. Because you were constantly in Emily’s fucking pants.’
The last three words come out at close to a yell, and it is an entirely unfair accusation, but Naomi has got absolutely no defence she can rely upon, so just stares at her shoes some more, feeling a wretched shit.
Katie picks up her bag, and sniffs for a second.
‘Don’t even fucking bother trying to call, Naomi. Oh wait, no, you probably wouldn’t anyway. And the rest of you can fuck off, too.’
Cook takes a couple of steps after her as she leaves, before drifting to a halt and staring at Naomi, who can feel regret clawing at her insides like a caged animal, and can’t meet nobody’s eye. Eventually, sounding like she’s choking on something, Emily snatches up her bag and phone.
‘Great, thanks for the fucking moral support, Naomi.’
It’s another twin that Naomi can’t quite bring herself to chase after, and for the longest time after Emily’s left there’s silence, until Naomi can almost convince herself, with her eyes closed, that there’s no one else there.
Eventually, Pandora breaks it.
‘Blimey. Drama-rama, or what?’
There’s a general relaxing that everyone except her seems to take part in, like they’ve just been witness to a particularly gripping piece of street theatre. Naomi can hear a quickly stifled laugh come from Freddie’s direction, before Cook punches him in the shoulder and sets off after Katie himself.
Gradually, Naomi realises there’s a wall behind her, and she could be sitting down. When she looks up, she finds Effy watching her, silent.
Blame. That’d be a good thing to pin, right now. If Effy had prevented Katie from going through Emily’s bag...
‘Thanks alot, Eff. Really fucking helpful.’
Effy smiles quietly, before looking away and cupping a hand around a cigarette to light it. When she speaks, it is with only a hint of judgement.
‘Not your fucking bodyguard, dear.’
Chapter Eleven