Playing Truant

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Playing Truant Page 10

by John Eider


  ‘Look, however it works out with your job… Well, you’ll never go penniless. You’ll always have a job here.’

  ‘Cleaning?’

  ‘It’s all we could offer. Sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. I only mean as a last resort.’

  Finn was suddenly aware the hypocrisy of his position, fighting a gut-reaction that he was better than the jobs of those cleaners, who he was minutes before defending as good and noble people.

  ‘Yes, I know. Thank you.’

  ‘Look, it’s better than the streets. That’s all I meant.’

  And he understood; and it bought him some assurance… and an understanding of how desperate he had become.

  ‘I’ll get us another drink.’

  But before Finn could say he didn’t need one, Bel had paused, standing by the sofas, and said,

  ‘There comes a time when we catch ourselves in the mirror, and we see that we’re no longer the looker we once fancied we were.’

  ‘Bel…’

  ‘No, Finn. Let me say this… And it’s then that we know our chances have been missed, and are not sure to be repeated.’

  What a woman. A feeling washed over Finn then. It was pride in the strength of his old feelings, and how long they’d taken to fade. Along with that haunting sense of, ‘If only I had done something differently…’

  But they lasted only a moment; and the sound of an engine outside brought him back to his old self.

  Chapter 33 – A Man in a Van

  The perfect distraction for Sylvie came in the shape of the SUPERCLEAN CHAMPIONS transporter approaching. She heard it first of all, pulling up onto the pavement and bouncing over uneven slabs. She turned to see Jack waving from the cabin.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ he asked her as he got out.

  ‘Just taking in the night air before we go back.’

  ‘Are the others still up there?’

  ‘Are you going to get them?’

  ‘No, I’ll give them five minutes if they’re still talking.’

  Finn and Belinda – God, what a couple they’d have been with names like that, the Richard Burton and Liz Taylor of the Sommerhill second-hand records scene. They’d be leaving soon, and Sylvie saw her last chance to ask Jack a question,

  ‘Tell me about your illness, and why Finn didn’t visit.’

  It was a hard question asked bluntly, but Jack seemed good for it,

  ‘Well, you’d have to ask Finn the second part. But the illness was depression, so they call it, but the word doesn’t begin to do the thing justice.’

  ‘What, feeling blue? Feeling down?’

  To which he gave a knowing smirk,

  ‘If that’s all you think it is, then I thank heaven for the fact you’ve evidently never known it.’

  That he’d seemingly dismissed her saddest times with a brush of the arm, Sylvie put to one side and listened.

  ‘You want to know how I understood it?’ Jack went on. ‘Imagine emotion passing through you like waves, as though you’re being pulled by the currents of an ocean. And everywhere you look you see each person’s loss, feel every object’s sadness, approach the world as if witnessing its passing, knowing that every bit of it will someday end. To see a carefree family, and worry only over their eventual parting. See a happy home, and imagine it instead one day stood empty. Old photographs, old buildings catching your attention and you can’t look away.’

  ‘Sounds awful.’

  Jack looked down as he lit a cigarette,

  ‘You smoke?’

  Sylvie shook her head. He continued,

  ‘It was like I hadn’t felt for years, and it had all backed up. The funny thing was that it was beautiful, like being trapped in the best film ever made, the saddest song. Everything was brittle and fragile and could be lost in a moment.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘But when you have that every minute, every hour, for days. God, I’d have let them commit me by then if they’d have told me that would end it.’

  ‘What did end it?’

  ‘Rest, and letting go of everything, even my job. And talking, endless talking, like you’re the vainest person in the world. Never shutting up about yourself, as people sit by you jotting in notebooks.’

  ‘And you had Bel?’

  ‘I asked her to find Finn – I guessed they were still in touch.’

  ‘And she stuck around?’

  ‘She stuck around.’

  And then Jack smirked a warm smirk again, whispering,

  ‘She’s worried that I’m flirting with you.’

  ‘From what I’ve heard, she’s right to be.’

  ‘You know you’d love it,’ said Jack, before walking back to the van to honk the horn.

  And Sylvie really didn’t know if he was joking.

  ‘You might never have a chance to find out,’ she whispered to herself, wondering whether they would ever see each other again.

  Chapter 34 – Goodbyes

  As the car horn sounded, Bel craned her neck to look down to the street below. Finn followed her gaze and saw the roof of a white van. A further musical beeping of the horn confirmed that it was Jack.

  ‘That’s my ride,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to cast you out.’

  Finn took one last look outside, before turning to leave himself, saying,

  ‘There’s not much out there now.’

  ‘No,’ answered Bel. ‘Only buses and taxis, the odd executive off home late. Fridays are busier, but you see it all from up here.’

  ‘I’ll bet you do,’ he whispered. He was so close to the glass that is steamed.

  It was cold outside on the pavement. Finn hadn’t noticed how warm they’d become inside. Jack had gotten out of the cab and was smoking by the building’s door, leaning back on the cold glass. And beside him was Sylvie. Bel observed,

  ‘Look at you pair, smoking behind the bike-sheds. How long have you been back here?’

  ‘Only five minutes,’ answered Jack.

  ‘So you say.’

  ‘Well, you don’t let me smoke in the house.’

  Sylvie and Finn shared a look to say, God, they’re at it again.

  ‘So what are your plans?’ Belinda asked them on the pavement.

  ‘Back to the hotel,’ answered Finn.

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘Off home I suppose.’

  ‘Home where?’

  ‘Where I live now, I mean.’

  ‘I knew what you meant,’ said Bel smiling. ‘But you haven’t told us anything about your new life.’ She followed Finn to the van after locking the building door.

  ‘And will we see you again?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ was all Finn could say.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t know. How could you know?’ she asked rhetorically.

  Was Bel being antsy? Finn couldn’t judge. Their tour guide went back into performance-mode, looking up at the windows of the room they’d just been in,

  ‘I would have trusted you pair to lock up after yourselves, if you’d wanted to hang around up there awhile. But the insurance contract demands that “the keys remain in the possession of a company employee at all times”. I can’t tell you the times I’ve rolled over them in bed.’

  At which the women giggled.

  ‘Is this where we leave you?’ asked Bel

  ‘Yes, the hotel’s just over there,’ answered Finn.

  ‘Then we’ll offer our goodbyes.’

  ‘It was good to see you, Finn.’ Jack took his hand.

  ‘You too,’ he answered as they shook with no hard feelings.

  ‘Look after him,’ Jack called to Sylvie.

  ‘He’s not mine to…’

  But before Sylvie could finish the sentence, Belinda had her in her arms, smothering her in her sheepskin coat,

  ‘My dear, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.’ While embracing Sylvie, she whispered, ‘Don’t break his heart – you don’t want it on your conscience, as told by one who knows.’

>   But before Sylvie could respond to that, Bel had concluded their bear hug, and had transferred her grappling arms to Finn,

  ‘And as for you, you hopeless, loveable man.’

  She squeezed, and then she whispered, with a note of the alcohol they’d been drinking on her breath,

  ‘Is it possible for someone to have made the worst mistake?’

  But just as quickly she had broken off that second hug, and was back at Jack’s side, evidently waiting for the visitors to leave before they got in the van.

  ‘Now go. Don’t get into any more trouble. Go to your hotel, I command you.’

  And they obeyed.

  As they parted, Finn looked back and saw Bel watching them walk away; before Jack finally stamped out his cigarette and they got into cab. Finn had seen her again, Belinda. He could hardly believe it. She had not fulfilled her dreams, and nor had he. But was that hardly unexpected? For they had hoped for so much from life in some young and undefined way, that to have achieved it, to have become the people they envisaged themselves becoming, would have been almost supernatural.

  Finn watched their heads bobbing in the cab; the vehicle starting and its lights turning on. Bel’s hair shone in the interior light for a moment, before Jack’s door closed and they became silhouettes. And Finn realised that for all the modern Bel’s hard work and business nous, he saw her now as an enchanted princess, a younger Miss Haversham; somehow doomed, held in suspended animation, trapped in a fantasy.

  Finn gave the pair one last look, before turning to face his destination.

  PART FIVE – IN THE BAR OF THE GRAND HOTEL

  Chapter 35 – Being Contradictory

  ‘She’s being contradictory,’ said Finn, as they walked.

  ‘She’s probably not thinking straight,’ answered Sylvie blithely. ‘That’s what you’ve done to her, coming back so suddenly.’

  ‘But people can get themselves upset about things, can’t they? Can imagine things that aren’t true?’

  She stopped him then, asking, ‘What is it?’

  ‘Bel’s just asked me if she “made the worst mistake?” That’s what she said to me.’

  ‘And did she? “Make the worst mistake”, I mean?’

  He considered, ‘For years I wanted only for her to write to me, or turn up out of the blue saying she was sorry, that she was wrong, that we would be perfect for each other. Now it feels like a reprieve.’

  ‘You’ve had a glimpse of what it might have been like?’

  ‘I loved her force of personality. But now I don’t know how I’d have coped.’

  ‘You are allowed to make life easy,’ she advised him. ‘It doesn’t have to be a trial.’

  They started walking again, after a while Sylvie asking,

  ‘And what was she thinking, saying that?’

  ‘I think she meant it.’

  ‘I only mean, that half-hopes and whispered wishes aren’t enough to break a couple, are they, really.’

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  Sylvie went on, ‘What did she want you to do, come and take her off Jack? Do that to your best friend? And all for someone as… hard to read as Bel? I mean, you couldn’t know she wouldn’t let you down again.’

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘Look at what she’s done to you with half a dozen words.’ Sylvie shook her head. ‘After all these years. And after she’d as good as cast you away the first time.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that…’ began Finn, but didn’t finish. He thought for a moment, before concluding, ‘Nothing’s real here, is it?’

  ‘I think the sooner we’re out of this town the better.’

  Sylvie here had to examine her own motives. Was she seeing this woman who Finn hadn’t seen for years as a rival? But no, she wasn’t, she was only worried for him, and what all this was doing to him.

  ‘It’s just the seven-year itch,’ she continued, ‘or however many years it is for them. They’re good but not great; and then you come back from the past. And I don’t think she really expects you to come and take her off Jack.’

  Sylvie corrected herself, ‘I don’t mean that you wouldn’t have the courage to if you wanted to.’

  ‘I know. It’s okay,’ said Finn.

  ‘But you know what I mean. Bel was only flexing old feelings, enjoying their sensation. She might be terrified if you actually took her up on them.’

  ‘Get you, the analyst,’ he said chirpily. ‘You could set up shop in town, solving men’s dilemmas and ladies’ love-lives.’

  ‘Get away.’ Sylvie patted his shoulder. Yet the chat had clearly done him well. Quite where her words had all come from though she wasn’t sure, a mix of homespun wisdom and remembered phrases from celebrity interviews.

  Sylvie added,

  ‘And they’re comfortable – and it’s easy to underestimate that.’

  ‘Jack seems to suit her, doesn’t he?’ suggested Finn. ‘He seems to blank out her worst traits, take no notice.’

  ‘Whether she loves him though… and I think we’ve learnt that Jack thinks about the same of her.’

  ‘You’ll have the paw prints on you for days,’ said Finn.

  ‘Only verbal ones,’ Sylvie answered. ‘We weren’t alone long enough.’

  They were giggling again, like they used to in the works canteen. This was the old Finn, the one Sylvie hadn’t seen for weeks. The one she wanted back.

  ‘I’ve just thought,’ she said. ‘At the studio, we didn’t see any security.’

  ‘Maybe a firm looks in a few times a night?’

  ‘It could be awkward then,’ she said straight-facedly, ‘if they ever caught Jack and Belinda up there.’

  Like snickering children, her arm pulled tightly around his, they made their way along the near-deserted streets.

  ‘Finn,’ she asked as they walked.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Jack told me about his depression.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I think that must be what you have.’

  ‘You mean this weekend?’

  ‘Well, maybe not only then. It’s not the first time you’ve been blue.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ve never looked into it?’

  Finn answered, ‘I’ve read a couple of books; but it never felt quite right.’

  ‘Oh?’

  He searched for the words,

  ‘Well, I don’t know if what I feel is depression so much as desperation.’

  This made her laugh,

  ‘Finn – a desperate man!’

  ‘I don’t make much of an outlaw, do I?’

  ‘Not much.’ She reaffirmed her hold on his arm.

  ‘I’m not saying I don’t have moments when I’m down, but mostly it’s an active feeling, an urge to do something.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. All I really want to do is write in my notebooks.’

  ‘Then write something brilliant!’

  ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’

  ‘Jack said he didn’t think the word “depression” did it justice.’

  ‘Nor do I. I think it must be the worst-described illness ever.’

  ‘Then what would you call it, Finn, you with all your phrases?’

  He thought a moment, then said, ‘Maybe it could have one of those modern acronymous names, like ADHD. Call it something like Over-Sensitivity to Sadness Syndrome, or Advanced Yearning Disorder.’

  ‘We’ll write a letter, suggest it to the Department of Health.’

  ‘Only, if it is a disorder then it’s an odd one. It can sometimes be wonderful, like feeling everything at once. You wonder why the whole world doesn’t feel the same.’

  They fell back into silence, before,

  ‘Finn?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s none of my business, but…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Jack said that they wrote to you.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that you didn’t reply.’ />
  He lowered his head in penance,

  ‘Bel sent me a long letter. She told me how bad Jack was.’

  ‘So why not answer them?’ Sylvie still couldn’t understand.

  ‘Because, how could I reply to a letter about Jack’s illness, without telling them I wasn’t sure I’d been feeling much better myself?’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And it felt like a confession I couldn’t make, even in as personal a form as a letter. And certainly not there at his bedside, taking the light off him. I could hardly go and see him and have kept it secret; yet I…’

  ‘…weren’t ready to tell anyone?’

  ‘No. It was the last time she wrote to me. You can’t blame her really.’

  ‘I don’t think Jack’s upset with you. He just doesn’t understand.’

  ‘Someday. Someday I’ll tell him.’

  ‘Good. And then you pair would have so much to talk about. More than just cars at any rate.’

  ‘Oh yes, the BMW. Did you see it? It’s a beauty.’

  But Finn was only being playful; and giving him a look, Sylvie urged him them on their walk.

  ‘Finn?’ she asked him then a third time.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘While we’re talking like this, can I ask you? We’ll always trust each other, won’t we? We’ll always be friends, right? Good friends, best friends, die for each other friends?’

  ‘All the way.’

  She hugged him, his reward for saying he’d die for her; though he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Before she let go, she squeezed him again.

  ‘And what was that one for?’ he asked.

  ‘For making me proud of you today. It was brilliant, the best thing ever.’

  Chapter 36 – The Scene of the Crime

  Before Sylvie even realised they were so close, they came around a corner and there was the hotel.

  ‘It doesn’t seem like only lunchtime since we ran out of those doors,’ said Finn.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Sylvie reassured him, ‘I’m sure the desk staff’s changed since then.’

  ‘I’m not even taking the risk.’

  Finn led her straight past the front entrance, and then around the side of the building. At the back-corner was an anonymous-looking door, which he held open for her.

  ‘Is this the service entrance?’ asked Sylvie, his conspiratorial spirit catching.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  At his gesturing, she went first down a short curved flight of stairs. At their foot though, she could hear the hubbub of the hotel bar, and knew that this was where he had led her,

 

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