Heartache High (8 page)

The mainly dim
lighting seems to have been designed to add to this watery grave
effect. The only bright spots are sharp beams highlighting a
collection of samurai-style arms and armour spread around the edges
of the room.

 
A woman comes across to greet us, smiling, her hand out in
readiness to be shaken.

‘I’ve been
expecting you,’ she says gaily.

*

 ‘
She’s Chinese?’ Dave asks.

‘No, I don’t
think so,’ I answer honestly. ‘Mixed race, probably. Very
beautiful. Incredibly glamorous.’

Iain’s taken
aback by her beauty. Lamia notices his unease.

‘Let me guess,
Mr Sinclair; you were expecting an older woman, yes?’

‘Well, yes,’
Iain admits uncertainly. ‘I’m sorry; I don’t know why.’

She smiles
brightly as she indicates that we should take the two chairs placed
in front of a large oak desk.

‘Everyone does.
When it comes to helping those in love, people always expect
potions to be involved, or at least some form of magic; and they
always have to be administered by some old crone, don’t
they?’

Ian nods his
agreement as we take our seats.

‘I suppose so;
yeah, I’d never really figured out what you might look like. But
whenever I did try and conjure up some image of you, I suppose it
did fit into some sort of idea of you being a…well, witch-like
character.’

Lamia elegantly
slips behind the desk, easing into a high-backed, heavily carved
wood and leather chair.

‘Witch-like?’
She laughs gaily. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m in any way witch-like
now, Mr Sinclair!’

‘Oh no no, of
course not! You’re very…very…’

‘Very very? I’m
very very?’ she teases. ‘A compliment indeed, Mr Sinclair! But, you
know, I never can work out why people come here expecting this
wizened old woman doling out her love potions. I can’t say that
I’d
have much confidence in any love potion handed to me by
such a woman, would you Mr Sinclair?’

‘No, no; I
suppose not.’

She’s holding
Iain’s gaze like he’s almost hypnotised.

She’s hardly
looked my way, I realise.

Have there been
conversations over the phone, other than one just arranging the
appointment? Or does she instinctively realise that Iain is the one
perceived to have the problem that needs resolving.

Or is it just
that she realises she has an incredible power over men?

Her eyes sparkle
in the room’s dim light like they’re the brightly lit waters of an
aquarium. I could almost imagine luminously coloured fish floating
by in there.

Thing is, I
don’t think I’ve seen her blink yet.

They’re just
holding Iain’s gaze like a snake would entrance the rabbit it’s
about to strike out at.

‘That figures,’
Jassy says quietly in my ear, as if the people sitting around the
desk might be able to hear, ‘Lamia couldn’t shut her eyes; a
punishment of the gods, so she would always have to dwell on the
death of her own children.’

‘This would be
the
mythical
Lamia, yeah?’ Dave says sceptically. ‘As
opposed to the Lamia living in Soho.’

‘The Lamia
appearing in Steph’s visions or flashbacks or whatever they are,
actually.’

‘Semantics.’

‘Shush you too;
I need to concentrate, remember?’

‘So, what can I
do for you Mr Sinclair?’ Lamia turns towards me, smiles. ‘I hope
I’m right in presuming that it is Mr Sinclair who needs my help,
rather than you, Stephanie dear?’

‘Stephanie?’

Iain, like me,
notices the familiarity in the way Lamia uses my name.

As if she knows
me.

It could just be
the phone calls I made to her, of course, but…there’s something
more to it than that, I’m sure.

Not that I can
think what it could be. I’ve never met her before.

Never heard of
her before, until I heard her name come up my visions.

‘Oh, I’m sorry
Mr Sinclair; didn’t Stephanie tell you?’

‘Tell me? Tell
me what?’

‘Stephanie?’
Lamia glares at me admonishingly. But she uses a jocular tone, not
a serious one. ‘You haven’t told him?’

I reach across
from the chair I’m sitting in. I clasp one of Iain’s hands in
mine.

‘Sorry, Iain; I
should have told you, shouldn’t I? But I was far too
embarrassed.’

I don’t sound
embarrassed. I sound amused.

I leave it to
Lamia to explain.

‘You see, Iain,
Stephanie has visited here before, requesting my help.’

*

 ‘
Is that true? Have you been here before?’ Dave
asks.

‘I’d never heard
of her until all these dreams.’

‘Though it might
be something else you’ve forgotten,’ Jassy reminds me.

The way they’re
now both talking, they seem to accept that I’m experiencing
something other than a mere dream.

Are they
flashbacks?

Like when you’ve
placed things that hurt you deep down in your subconscious, but at
some point they can come back to haunt you, to confuse
you.

‘Please don’t be
angry with her Iain,’ Lamia says to a shocked, betrayed looking
Iain. ‘Oh, you don’t mind me calling you Iain do you, Mr Sinclair?
Stephanie came because of you, of course.’

‘Me? Why did she
come here because of me?’

‘Why, because
she
loved
you of course!’

‘Loved
me?’

Iain says it
with a bitter laugh, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s
heard. He turns to look at me, bewilderment painfully etched across
his face.

I hang my head,
but not in shame.

It’s an act; I’m
acting
as if I’m ashamed.

I don’t know how
I know this. I just do.

Hanging my head
like this hides my wicked smile.

‘You sound
surprised Iain,’ Lamia continues. ‘Surely you must have realised?
When Stephanie came to see me, the pain she was suffering was quite
obvious to me, even before she even began to explain her
situation.’

‘Pain?’

All this is
confusing to Iain, I can see that.

But I’m
surprised he’s so confused.

No, I don’t mean
the girl sitting there, pretending to be me.

I mean me, the
real me.

Why wouldn’t the
pain of my unrequited love be obvious to him?

If he hadn’t
noticed, if he was too busy doing other things to notice or to
care, it was common knowledge amongst most people at school that I
was besotted with him.

Surely his
friends would have told him?

That’s what had
always made me so angry with him. Well, when I wasn’t wasting my
life sighing over him, anyway. He
must
have known; yet he
continued to ignore me, without making even the slightest effort to
help me get over him, to let me down gently.

‘Such a
beautiful girl, Iain! A girl, I think, who could have had almost
any man she wanted – yet it was
you
she wanted, Iain. And
yet you refused to return that love, or even give her the
courtesies of a friend.’

‘But…but I
didn’t
know
!’

He manages to
sound genuinely surprised.

He
must
have known!

How
couldn’t
he see it?

The way I always
made a fool of myself whenever he was around!

The way I
couldn’t get two words out without managing to mangle
them.

‘You didn’t
know
?’

Yes, Lamia says
it exactly the way I’d have said it!

Hard and
disbelieving.

‘Were you
blind?’

Yes! She hits
the spot yet again.

‘You know, this
Lamia could be your subconscious,’ Dave whispers. ‘Only you’re
getting your own back on Iain.’

‘I’m sure
Stephanie tried to give you every clue she could think of. At
least, without putting herself in a position where you could openly
humiliate her by turning her down.’

I’m still
hanging my head. Still secretly grinning.

‘Is that right
dear?’

I give a shy
nod.

‘Yes,’ I say
quietly, the hurt little girl voice again, ‘but he
always
ignored me.’

Iain’s mouth
drops open in surprise.

He reaches out
for me.

‘But Steph,
I–’

‘Reaching out
for her now is easy Iain; but when she needed you most, you ignored
her! She was in agony, Iain! In agony because you refused to return
or even recognise her love for you!’

‘This
does
sound like your subconscious Steph,’ Jassy says,
agreeing with Dave.

‘I didn’t
know
,’ Iain insists again, more forcefully this time. ‘If I
had, of
course
I would have returned her love!’

He holds my hand
tightly.

 ‘
Ah, well of course you say that
now
, Iain! But
then
, Iain,
then
you let her suffer. You let her cut
herself off from her friends, and all because she preferred to
retreat into her mind, where she could imagine being with
you.’

‘Yeah, yeah,
subconscious,’ Dave and Jassy hiss as they nod in full agreement
with each other.

‘She cut herself
off from life, was incapable of concentrating on her schoolwork –
and all because she chose instead to spend her time thinking only
of you.’

 ‘
I never knew; I’m
so
sorry Steph!’

‘And you never
would have known, Iain, if poor, lovelorn Stephanie here hadn’t
decided to come and see me.’

She pauses,
letting Iain fully absorb what she’s saying.

Yes, he’s sorry
now; but only because I made the first move.

Only, I suppose,
because Lamia provided me with something like a love potion. Or, at
least, something that gave me the confidence to approach
him.

‘You’re
analysing all this as if it’s really happening,’ Dave warns me with
a reproachful frown.

‘Now, I must
admit,’ Lamia says, her voice suddenly more conciliatory, ‘I
am
a little confused as to why you’re both here. Because of,
course, you are
both
here. And, as my potion obviously
worked, Iain, I can only assume that it’s
you
who’s
suffering the problem you’ve come to see me about.’

Iain opens his
mouth, as if about to say something.

He closes it,
unsure, ashamed.

‘Iain?’ Lamia
says it with an unmistakable undertone of, ‘You have something you
wish to say?’

Iain still sits
there, not wanting to speak.

‘You’re a
beautiful couple,’ Lamia persists cajolingly.

‘That’s some
subconscious you’ve got there,’ Dave whispers.

‘Why should
there be any problems between you? Problems you obviously think I
might be able to help you with.’

‘Because…because
she’s not who I thought she was!’ Iain blurts it out like it’s an
unfortunate, uncontrollable sneeze.

‘Not who you
thought
she was?’

Lamia pretends
to study me closely.

‘Well, I’m
sure
that’s the Stephanie who came to see me, Iain,’ she
says archly.

Leaning across
the desk towards me, she adds in a theatrical whisper, ‘You
are
Stephanie, aren’t you?’

No no! It’s not
me, I want to scream.

‘Yes, yes, of
course it’s me,’ I say.

‘There you are
Iain; it
is
Stephanie! How can there
possibly
be a
problem?’

‘She…she
humiliates
me. Makes me fight for her.’

Iain forces it
out as if it’s a humiliating admission in its own right.

‘Humiliates you?
Makes
you fight? I can’t see how she could
make
you
fight, Iain.’

‘She’s good, oh
yes she’s good,’ Dave whispers to me in admiration of Lamia’s way
with words.

‘Only you can
make yourself fight, Iain! As for humiliating you; I’m sure you’re
the envy of many a boy for having such a
beautiful
girlfriend.’

‘Wow, Steph, I
wish
my
subconscious was so flattering,’ Jassy
giggles.

‘Yes,’ Iain
says, ‘everything
seems
perfect.’

‘Seems?’

Iain withdraws
his hand from mine.

He clasps his
hands together in his lap. He droops his head, like he’s preparing
himself to say something.