Authors: Melvin Burgess
No one said anything about this to Jackie but she began to notice that her exclamations of his guilt and general nastiness weren’t getting quite the applause she expected.
‘Stay angry,’ Sue hissed in her ear, when she caught sight of Dino smiling hopefully across at Jackie one morning about a month after she’d chucked him. Jackie flashed him a glare that would have withered brickwork and promptly turned her back. Thus it was Sue who saw Dino’s reaction. What she saw in his face wasn’t the usual anger, or contempt, or arrogance, or confusion. Something had happened. He wasn’t disgusting any more. His eyes turned red, his lips pursed. She saw a sore heart. Dino was in pain. Sue felt a pang.
Pity? she thought, amazed at herself. Instinctively she threw herself in between Dino’s face and her friend, as if to protect Jackie from the siren song, the broadcast beams of Dino’s pain.
She hadn’t realised. He was so
vulnerable.
So’s Jackie, and I
like
her, thought Sue to herself as she followed her friend away from the disgraced boy. Dino had been in pain for weeks and he’d just looked pathetic. What was so different? She couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder to where he stood with his face an open door to his distress. It was so touching – he couldn’t hide it! His eyes were wet, he was wiping them with the back of his hand. It was all so unconscious. Staring over her shoulder to check how fast his tears were flowing, Sue collided with Jackie who had stopped to watch her.
‘What are you doing?’ hissed Jackie.
‘Making sure the bastard doesn’t follow us,’ said Sue quickly. Jackie stared suspiciously over her shoulder. Sue ushered her away, but it was already too late.
‘What was that about?’ demanded Jackie when they were clear.
‘Nothing!’
‘He was crying, wasn’t he?’
‘Did you see?’
‘I thought so. Really crying?’
‘Meaningless tears,’ insisted Sue.
‘They made you stop.’
‘I was just surprised, that’s all.’
‘He was crying. For me,’ said Jackie, casting a longing glance away in Dino’s direction.
‘Stop it. Remember! He isn’t worth it.’
But Jackie was immediately and suddenly certain that those tears were wept for her. Every instinct in her body longed to take him in her arms and comfort him and tell him she understood and would make it all better. He was stricken; she had struck him.
The annoying thing about it was, for the past few weeks she’d been enjoying her life for the first time in months. All the things that couples tend to let go of – going out with her friends, dances, just hanging about gassing. She’d taken up fencing again. She’d hardly missed him at all, but now somehow his pain was back in her heart, the siren song was in her ears: I need you, I need you, only you will do. It was irresistible.
She didn’t immediately start wanting him; he just began to populate her brain. During the day she found herself endlessly explaining to him in her mind why they had to split up. At night she dreamed about him talking to her, making love to her, walking or dancing or just being there for her. In one dream she was sitting having tea and cake with friends in one room, while Dino was being dismembered with a razor-sharp kitchen knife in another just down the hall. No one said anything, but they all knew it was going on. She could see people exchanging glances. Dino was in silent agony, dying. Only she could save him. All she had to do was put down her cup and walk through, but she was unable to get up out of her chair.
Sue was exasperated but unsurprised. It all seemed so pointless. It wasn’t even as though Jackie had a broken heart. Sue herself was in more pain several times a year when she dumped one of her string of blokes for no apparent reason, unless it was boredom. It pulled her to pieces every time – it was even worse when one of them dumped her, as they occasionally did. But this obsessive interest in someone who was no good for you – for someone who, as far as she could work out, Jackie didn’t even like, was beyond her. The point was to have fun, wasn’t it? And one day maybe to fall in love. This was neither.
For a few more days she did her best for her friend, but she was rapidly losing interest. Dino had already moved from pariah to someone to be pitied, to someone really rather fanciable in just a few days. OK, maybe he was a tosser but – no one said it yet – so was Jackie.
‘She’s changed,’ pointed out Deborah.
In other words, they deserved one another.
Sue was never very good with boredom. Enough was enough. Dino was obviously something Jackie had to go through. She was clearly beyond the help of medical science, and the kindest thing to do was put her out of her misery. If she had to obsess about Dino, she could do it with him, not her. Sue had had enough.
‘I think you should talk to him,’ she told her one day, suddenly no longer able to bear another word on the subject.
‘Talk to him? Really? Do you really think that?’
‘Definitely.’
‘That’s new. What’s made you change your mind?’
‘Boredom!’ screamed Sue silently. But what she said was, ‘I just think you have unfinished business with him.’
‘Unfinished business?’ Jackie’s face flushed excitedly. She even let out a soft gasp of pleasure. ‘Do you think so?’
‘I really do. You need to talk to him, he needs to talk to you.’ Sue nodded her head firmly. ‘You need to talk to each other.’
‘Really? You know, I think you might be right,’ said Jackie. Her eyes sparkled excitedly. Sue was amazed that she didn’t see any irony in this advice. It was like pressing the on button on a piece of kitchen equipment; off it went.
‘Absolutely,’ she said.
‘Will you have a word with him for me?’
‘Oh no, not me! Get someone else in on it.’
‘OK.’ Jackie nodded; she didn’t seem to mind. ‘Deborah will do it, I expect.’ She smiled. ‘He’ll think I want to go back out with him. He’s in for a surprise if he thinks that, isn’t he?’
‘Isn’t he,’ said Sue.
Every evening, Ben went to visit. Ali sat in her chair with her head up staring at the wall as if she’d lost her sight. He felt so stitched up. He kept thinking, She’s done this on purpose, but it made no difference. On purpose, by accident, under your heels, over your head, because God wanted it or for no reason at all, whatever. She had him just where she wanted him. There was no way out. Just thinking about leaving her made him break out in prickles of guilt.
She’d cast a spell and frozen him solid. He wasn’t going anywhere.
About halfway through the week, rumours began to spread through the school. Miss Young was depressed, she’d had an unhappy love affair, she’d tried to kill herself, an overdose, slit wrists. Gossip gossip gossip. Ben tried to see if anyone was watching him. Surely it was only a matter of time before he got caught.
‘I didn’t know,’ he’d say to the head. ‘I didn’t realise, how could I?’
‘It’s a very serious matter. You took advantage of her. You more or less assaulted her, you couldn’t have been closer to Attempted Murder if you wielded the knife yourself. This was a vulnerable young woman, deeply in love with you. You have trifled with her feelings, sir!’
At the flat, Ali clutched his arm and made him sit next to her and kiss her still face. He made her cups of tea, cooked her snacks, read to her, fed her tissues. Every time she wanted him to make love to her. When he left she clung to him and buried her face in his collar bone. There was no more talk of splitting up.
She’d told the school that she was depressed and her friends that it was the break up of a love affair that had sent her over the edge. She had in fact spun a long tale about her boyfriend over the past few months to them, painting a complicated affair with a man from out of town who travelled great distances to see her, a married man who she could never visit but only visited her. It gave her an air of sorry glamour, but everyone was surprised at how badly it affected her; she’d never mentioned love. They all trooped round to visit the heartbroken woman. Ben lived in fear that sooner or later someone was going to catch him.
People would often phone up while he was there, and sometimes there would be a ring at the door. Ali had an intercom to the door of the block; she always answered it but so far she hadn’t let anyone in while he was with her. Who knows how long that would last? She was mad, wasn’t she? Ben begged her not to answer at all, but it caused more problems than it was worth. Was he ashamed of her, she wanted to know? (Yes.) Had he got something to hide? (Yes.) Was he so selfish as to be more worried about himself than her, even though she was in such a mess? (Yes.) And anyway, what harm would it do if someone did find him round there? She seemed to rather like the idea. So he kept his mouth shut and suffered terrors every time the phone or doorbell rang.
During the second half of the week, she began to pick up. She started talking and laughing, cracking little jokes, cooking bits and pieces for him, little treats. By the end of the second week she wanted to take him out somewhere at the weekend, to the pub or for a meal or something. Have a date.
‘We’ve never had a proper date, not a proper going-out date,’ she said. Ben smiled and quailed inside. Terror! They’d be seen! He was fairly sure now she was more or less angling for that. What did it mean? Boyfriend and girlfriend, that’s what. She wanted to go public.
They went out on Friday night to an out of town pub, had a meal, a few drinks, then back to hers. He felt like her pet. It was an ordeal, but at least they didn’t get spotted. He mentioned his relief later in the evening and she got irritated about it.
‘What’s your problem, Ben?’
‘Well, if we got found out, you’d lose your job, wouldn’t you?’ he asked disingenuously.
Ali shrugged. ‘I’m fed up with that job. Teaching isn’t for me. I’ve been thinking of packing it in anyway. I might go down and get some careers advice when I’m feeling up to it.’
‘When?’
‘No hurry. I’m on the sick, aren’t I? Next week, maybe.’
Careers advice?
Next week
? Ben said nothing but his brain went into overdrive. What possible reason would he have not to see her then – apart from his murderous dislike of her which he could never admit? She was clearing the way for them, a couple in love; except that he wasn’t. Did it matter that he no longer liked her? It certainly made no difference to her. He wasn’t sure she knew what being in love was in the first place.
Ben knew when he was beaten. He was out of his depth. He hadn’t a clue what to do or who to turn to. All he knew was, he was in hell and no way out. It was one of the situations you just have to make the best of, like nursing a child sick with leprosy, or your partner of twenty years who’s broken their neck and can’t move.
No. The magic word. What an ineffectual little spell it was against this witch. The word had gone from his mind as anything of significance, but over the weekend it began to be slowly replaced by another idea – not something necessarily useful, perhaps, but something that might lead towards something useful.
A problem shared.
Dino had impressed him no end, suddenly laying out his whole life to him and Jon that day. Ben didn’t know if it had made any real difference to Dino’s life, telling them everything so shamelessly. After all, they had no power over the shoplifting or his parents or Jackie or Siobhan/Zoë … but even so, Ben felt that just by listening carefully, he and Jon had helped. One or other or both of them were round there at least three nights a week. They went out together at weekends. As usual, even in the midst of great shite, it was lucky old Dino. He had friends, he had sympathy, he had people with an eye out for him. So why shouldn’t it be lucky old Ben? He was so completely alone here – no help, no advice, no sympathy, no nothing. His being true to her was encouraged by her in the first place and now she’d buried him with it. Maybe it was time to be true to himself.
But who to talk to? Mum, Dad? No way! School?
No
way. Some official thing – the doctor? The Citizens Advice Bureau? It wasn’t that sort of talk he wanted, not yet, anyway. It was a friendly ear he wanted, and that meant Jonathon and Dino. What a pair! Dino was in a mess at the moment: Jon was in a mess more or less all the time, but he did have his good sides. He had some useful insights into things, even though he didn’t always seem to know the difference between an insight and a one-liner. He was a known loudmouth – but he could keep secrets when he really had to, and he
really
had to this time. He often got hopelessly carried away, especially when he was teasing, which he did far too much. He could be amazingly insensitive, but he could also be more sensitive than almost anyone else Ben knew.
As for Dino, he seemed to be improving, but he had enough on his plate without having to deal with this. After a little thought, Ben decided to leave Dino out. He was off his head just now. One at a time – he could always tell him afterwards if he wanted to. He felt bad about it; not so long ago he had been closer to Dino than he had to Jon, but things had changed lately. He told Jon after school that same day that he wanted to have a word with him. Jon looked horrified.
‘What have I done?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Oh. Right. I thought I must have said something stupid to Dino.’
‘No.’
‘What is it then?’
‘I just want to have a word.’
‘Why?’
‘Never mind why!’
‘How can you have a word with me if you won’t tell me what it’s about?’
‘Jonathon, this is serious.’
‘Is it? Oh – I see. Sorry. What is it –
advice
?’
‘No! Well, I don’t know. I just … oh, fuck.’
‘No, sorry. I’ll be OK. I just don’t know why you picked me, I’m not very good at this. Right, right now?’
‘No, never mind.’
‘No, really, I’ll be OK. Come on, really, don’t sulk, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
Not a good start. But they went back to Ben’s place and there he spilled the beans. He went through the whole thing – well, quite a lot of it anyway – from beginning to end. Halfway through Jonathon leaped to his feet.
‘So – that night at the disco, it was all true? You really did lie down and get a blow job while you looked up her minge?’