Entangled (20 page)

I opened the door to find Nat standing there, looking (and smelling) like it was our first date. He took one look at me and laughed.

‘Wow! You look —’ I cringed, not wanting to hear how he was going to finish that sentence – ‘different!’

‘I fell asleep after doing the housework and didn’t have time to have a shower and get changed, and then you had to pick this
one
time to be on time. Tell you what – you help yourself to a drink while I run upstairs. I won’t be a minute … just
stop
looking at me like that!’

He was still laughing. ‘Grace, shut up and kiss me.’ I had no choice but to obey. God, he was good at the kissing.

After a few minutes, he led me over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled me down next to him. ‘Can I get you a drink, or something to eat?’ He shook his head and moved his hand to tuck a bit of my unruly mane behind my ear. He stroked my cheek ever so gently with the back of his hand. He was looking at me strangely and it made my heart feel funny and jumpy. ‘Well, can I at least put on some decent clothes? I feel all … icky. And you look all … not icky.’ He shook his head, still saying nothing. ‘Nat! Say something! You’re being weird.’

Instead, he kissed me again. I melted. Finally, when I’d practically forgotten my own name and decided that I wanted nothing more than to go on kissing him forever, he pulled away. ‘You look amazing.’ His sarcasm earned him a punch. ‘Ouch … that hurt!’

‘Liar!’

‘Well, it
could
have hurt.’ He pouted. ‘It hurt my feelings anyway.’

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. If you keep taking the piss out of me, I’ll punch you harder next time …’

He kissed me again before I could say anything more: a mightily effective shutting-up-Grace technique.

‘I’m not taking the piss – trust me. I’ve never seen you look so beautiful. I mean it.’

‘You’re mental. Or is there something wrong with your eyes?’ I waved my hand in front of him, inches from his face. ‘Can you see this? How many fingers am I holding up?’

He grabbed my hand and held it in both of his. ‘You look fresh … and young … and cute … and really …
really
… hot.’ Each pause was punctuated by a kiss. I melted more. He actually seemed to mean it. And who was I to argue?

‘Young? Not too young, I hope?’

Another kiss. ‘Nah, don’t worry … I think you’re still legal.’

I sank back into the sofa. Nat followed, his lips never leaving mine. I could barely form a coherent thought, such was my blissed-out state. I was vaguely aware that this was going a
lot
better than I could have ever hoped. This was better than normal – better than
anything
, in fact.

And somewhere in my mind – my pink and fuzzy soft-focus mind – something clicked: the cuts. The fresh cuts. He could hardly miss them, could he? There were so many, and they looked so bad. Much, much worse than before. He wouldn’t even want to
look
at me, let alone touch me. I silently cursed my stupidity: this reunion was going to be over before it began.

I don’t know how, but Nat realized that something was up. He pulled away and looked at me intently. ‘Are you OK?’

I paused – I knew that my answer was crucial.

The choice, as I saw it, was a simple one:

Carry on as if nothing was wrong, and hope that he wouldn’t freak out when he saw what I’d done to myself.

OR …

Tell the truth, and probably scare him off for good.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Will I never learn?

I manoeuvred my way out from underneath Nat and straightened out my T-shirt.

‘What’s the matter, Grace?’ The concern in his eyes almost made me change my mind. Almost.

I covered my face with my hands, before whispering, ‘There’s something I have to tell you.’

‘What is it? You can tell me anything. I don’t want any more secrets between us.’ He leaned forward and put his arm around my shoulders. It felt heavy and comforting, but I didn’t want to be comforted – not yet.

I stood and turned to face him. I watched his face as I started to pull down my tracksuit bottoms. He raised his eyebrows and smiled at first, having obviously misunderstood my actions. And then his smile slipped away, and was replaced with … with what? I couldn’t really tell. It certainly wasn’t the full-on disgust I’d expected. I resisted the urge to pull up my trousers straight away, and tried not to think about the fact that I was wearing an old, greying pair of pants.

‘Say something, Nat. Please say something.’

Nat’s expression was unreadable as he knelt on the carpet in front of me and gently pulled my trackies back up. He reached for my hand, and looked up into my eyes. ‘It’s going to be OK.’

I blinked back tears and crumpled down to meet him on the floor. He put his arms around me once again, and held me as I cried and cried and cried.

Eventually I sniffed and took a deep breath. ‘Not looking so fresh and cute now, am I?’

He laughed and wiped away my tears. ‘Hmm, perhaps not … I still
would
though.’

‘Liar. But thanks anyway.’ I leaned my head back against his chest.

‘I’m not lying! Do you want me to prove it?’ His hand crept towards the drawstring of my trackie bottoms.

I caught his wrist and held it fast against my stomach. ‘Don’t. How can you even
think
about having sex with a freak like me? I’m repulsive.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Why not? It’s true.’

‘It’s not, and I don’t want you thinking like that. So you cut yourself sometimes? Big deal. I don’t care.’

‘
What?
’

‘Look, we all have our ways of dealing with stuff when it gets too much for us. Your way just happens to be more … extreme than most. I hate that you feel you have to do this to yourself, and it makes me sad that you’re going to have these scars long after you’ve realized that there are better ways of dealing with your feelings, but I
am not
repulsed by you. I thought you knew that.’

I had no idea how to respond. I didn’t know what to think.

‘Grace, look at me. If I thought I could do or say anything to make you stop, then I would. But that’s not how it works.’ He paused, and said more quietly, ‘You did this after our fight on Saturday, didn’t you?’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just so upset and I thought I’d lost you and I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Hey, hey … It’s OK. I was upset too.’

‘Yeah, but you didn’t go home and start slicing yourself up, did you?’

He shook his head. ‘Maybe not, but I did kick a wall really, really hard … I think I might even have broken a toe.’

I smiled. ‘Really? That wasn’t very clever, was it?!’

‘I know. I felt like a right twat, hobbling home in the middle of the night. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that we’re going to have more arguments – I guarantee it.’ I frowned at him. ‘Come on, you know it’s true. People argue, all the time, about the stupidest things. And we will too. But let’s not leave things like that again. OK?’ He acknowledged my nod, before continuing. ‘Let’s talk things through properly. And then maybe you won’t … feel the need to hurt yourself.’

‘You’re right. I don’t want that happening again. I can’t promise anything though … about the cutting.’

‘I’m not asking you to. I’m just saying let’s both do our best to minimize the situations where you feel you have to do it. You have to
talk
to me when you’re feeling like that. You can promise me that, can’t you?’

He looked so earnest and sensible and utterly adorable, I had no option other than to agree. ‘I promise.’ We kissed. ‘You’re pretty amazing, you know? I can’t believe how cool you’re being about this. I didn’t expect you to be so … calm.’

‘Well, maybe I’ll make a half-decent doctor after all, eh?’ he said.

‘I think you’re going to be the best doctor in the whole world.’ I kissed him again, harder, deeper. ‘Doctor Scott has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘Why, thank you, Miss Carlyle. Hmm, I think you’re running a bit of a temperature. I’m afraid I’m going to have to prescribe immediate bed rest,’ he said in a stupid posh voice, accompanied by a wicked glint in his eye.

I burst out laughing and cuffed him round the head. ‘
That
was the cheesiest thing I have
ever
heard!’

‘Hey! I thought that was some of my finest work!’

He clambered up off the floor and headed to the stairs, pulling off his T-shirt and chucking it back towards me. ‘Well,
I’m
going to follow doctor’s orders, even if you’re not. You can do what you want: watch TV, file your nails, whatever.’ His nonchalance was pretty convincing. Well, it would have been if he hadn’t ruined the effect by giving me
that
look. The look that left me completely powerless and just … aching.

I followed.

He undressed me.

The cuts melted away with his touch.

I was a priceless china doll in his hands.

That was it. The return to normality I’d been hoping for. Except it was a new, better kind of normal. I vowed never to come that close to losing him again. I wouldn’t allow it to happen.

And if I came to rely on him and need him a little bit
too
much, then where was the harm in that? The cuts on my legs started to heal. Every time I looked at them, I was reminded how lucky I was to still have Nat. I never got complacent, not even for one second. Nat meant everything to me.

Mum came back from London. I’d kind of hoped she might stay there and just send me some money every month for food and stuff. But my fantasy came crashing down when I heard the click of the key in the door, and then, ‘Grace, be a dear and help me with my bags.’ It was always the same routine.

The bags were even more excessive than usual. The damage to her credit card must have been serious.
There goes my inheritance
.

‘Now, put the kettle on and we can sit down and have a chat.’ Jesus, this was worse than ever. But I did as I was told. It didn’t pay to argue with a woman who was
that
good at shopping: she clearly always got what she wanted.

I hugged my mug to my chest, vaguely hoping that it would provide some kind of protection against the onslaught of chat.

‘So, what have you been up to these past couple of days?’

‘It’s been over a week,’ I muttered.

‘Well, what have you been up to for the past week?’ Her pretend patience scratched at my nerves.

I shrugged, getting into the role of moody little cow. ‘Nothing.’

‘Really, Grace?! You must have done something!’

Yeah, you’re right. My boyfriend told me that he loved me and then we got into a massive fight. I cut myself so badly I thought the bleeding was never going to stop, and then I fell out with Sal cos she was so upset about it. Then I made up with my boyfriend and we had quite a lot of sex. Er … that’s the edited version anyway
.

God, it so was tempting – just to see the look on her face. This woman had no idea about my life. She didn’t even care.

I sighed. ‘I watched a bit of telly, went into town a couple of times. Sal came round.’

Mum nodded, already distracted, and clearly dying to tell me about her trip. I obliged grudgingly. ‘How was London?’ I knew she wouldn’t even notice my entirely disinterested tone.

‘Wonderful! I bought a fabulous pair of heels – you can borrow them some time if you like.’ I said nothing. ‘Anyway, Selfridges was
amazing
, as usual. I saw lots of things that would be perfect for you, but I didn’t buy anything in case it didn’t fit. Wouldn’t it be lovely if they opened a branch near here and then we could go shopping together? Or … maybe … you could come with me next time I go to London. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?’ I couldn’t think of anything worse, and I almost felt bad because she looked like she really believed that it
would
be fun. ‘You know that dress I saw on the Internet? Well, it fitted me perfectly and it was on sale … and I couldn’t say no. Aren’t I naughty?!’

Dear God, what is she on about?
I had to stop this before I threw my tea in her face.