‘I won’t say anything. I promise,’ he says.
She nods back and something like a smile appears fleetingly, but only fleetingly. Her face is visibly quivering – every muscle taut and trembling under the skin.
‘Thanks,’ she says finally, barely opening her lips. ‘I won’t forget it.’
Then she is shaking her head again, her hair falling across her face. She hugs herself, leaning back against the bench. David feels some of her rage return and edges away.
‘Why did you have to be spying on us anyway?’ she whispers, frowning at him.
‘Look, I couldn’t help seeing what I saw,’ says David, taken aback by this sudden lurch in mood. What happened to grateful? Holly raises a quizzical eyebrow.
‘OK, OK – so I could have helped seeing it,’ says David. ‘But I saw it and I can’t un-see it. I never wanted to see it. I just –’
‘All right!’ says Holly, slapping both hands on the wood of the seat and making David start. ‘For fuck’s sake.’
David leans back further away from her. She sees him move and puts up her hands, as a peace gesture.
‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘But I really don’t need this shit.’
‘Then why …?’
David doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, and the look on Holly’s face makes him certain he shouldn’t try.
‘Don’t you start judging me. Mr Peeping Fucking Tom.’
‘It’s not like that,’ says David.
Although it is a bit like that.
‘What would you call it then? Spying on people? Spying on people in their private moments. Staring at my tits through that … that … thing.’
She waves her hand in the general direction of David’s house. They both look off that way for a moment. He says nothing.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ says Holly. ‘Why can’t you just watch porn on the Internet like a normal kid or go out with a girl or something?’
‘Look, I’ve said I’m sorry.’
‘What did you see anyway?’ she says. ‘The other night.’
‘Not much,’ says David. ‘He closed the curtains, remember.’
‘Well, I’m very sorry,’ says Holly. ‘I’ll get him to leave them open next time and you can get an eyeful.’
David decides that anything he says will probably make things worse so opts for returning to saying nothing at all. Holly just sighs. How long is he expected to sit here? he wonders. Is she going to say anything else? David eventually looks up from studying his feet and notices, with a puzzled double take, that Ellen is walking towards them.
‘Hi,’ she says.
‘Er, hi, Ellen.’
David shuffles back and forth on the bench. Holly frowns. Ellen casts a quick glance at her, then back to David.
‘I just saw you over here and thought I ought to say hello,’ she says. ‘I’m with a few of the guys.’
David can see them looking their way from the other side of the park. He forgets to reply.
‘I hope I’m not disturbing anything,’ says Ellen.
‘No,’ says David. ‘No. No.’
‘OK then,’ says Ellen with a smile.
Holly shakes her head and makes a little noise in her nose that his mother sometimes makes.
‘Oh. This is Holly,’ says David, taking the hint. ‘Holly, this is Ellen.’
‘Hi,’ says Ellen. ‘David’s mentioned you.’
‘Has he indeed?’
David flinches and refuses to meet Holly’s stare.
‘Anyway,’ says Ellen, ‘just saying hello. Catch you later, David. Don’t forget about the party. Bye, Holly.’
Holly and David watch her walk back to the group.
‘Pretty,’ says Holly.
‘I suppose.’
Holly leans towards him.
‘What the fuck did she mean – “David’s mentioned you”? You haven’t spoken to anyone else about this, have you?’
‘No!’ says David. ‘Of course not!’
‘Because if you did,’ she says, peering at him, ‘I’d have to do something very unpleasant with that telescope of yours.’
‘I haven’t said anything about you!’
Holly grimaces at the idiocy of this clear untruth.
‘All right. I just mentioned that you clean for us. I may have mentioned you were hot.’
Holly raises an eyebrow and smiles.
‘Hot?’
‘Yeah,’ says David, blushing a little. ‘Maybe.’
‘Let’s hope she agrees,’ says Holly.
‘What?’ says David. ‘Why?’
‘Because the hotter she thinks I am, the hotter she’ll think you are, my friend.’
David furrows his brow.
‘Really?’
Holly chuckles. She is clearly chuckling at his lameness – something that David usually hates more than anything – but he doesn’t mind her laughing at him because she looks so good when she laughs.
‘She’s got a boyfriend,’ he says.
‘So?’ says Holly. ‘What’s he like, this boyfriend?’
‘He’s an idiot.’
‘Well then.’
David smiles. What is he supposed to do? Just grab Ellen and say, ‘You’re mine now!’? Maybe that’s how Holly does things, but then she looks like … well, she looks like Holly.
‘So are we OK, David? You know – about everything …?’
David nods.
‘It’s nothing to do with me. None of it. I honestly don’t care. What other people do is their own business, right?’
Holly smiles. She narrows her eyes as she looks up at the sky, then closes them altogether. David waits for her to say something else but she is silent. He just sits and marvels at her profile – wonders at how close he is to such an amazing creature. It’s like sitting beside a tiger.
‘Do I know him?’ says David.
‘Who?’
She opens her eyes and turns lazily towards him.
‘Your boyfriend?’
‘Why would you know him?’
David shrugs. He can tell he’s said the wrong thing, but it’s too late.
‘No reason. I was just wondering.’
‘What happened to it being none of your business?’
‘Yeah – right. Sorry.’
Holly relaxes again and smiles.
‘OK then,’ she says. ‘So we’re cool?’
‘Sure,’ says David. ‘Of course.’
‘Thank you.’
Holly leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. David shifts uneasily and stares at his feet. She smiles. Then she gets up and leaves without even glancing back, and David looks over at Ellen and the others as they turn away and pretend not to have noticed.
Chapter 14
Kindness Doesn’t Get You Laid
David looks out across the gardens. A cloud shadow crawls sluggishly across the roof tiles opposite. Below, Holly is in the garden lying on the sunlounger. She lies on her back, her arms above her head. She is wearing round tortoiseshell-rimmed sunglasses.
There is no one about. There is no one but him. And her. He pulls on the cord and raises the blinds. He opens his window, standing on a chair to climb through, gripping the frame before letting go and launching himself out over his garden.
Even though there’s no one around, he employs his power of invisibility before leaving so he has no fear of being seen. This takes more effort though – it drains him and makes him feel a little light-headed. He swims through the air, up and over the big birch tree and hovers above Holly’s garden and above Holly, lying far below. She turns over onto her stomach.
He lays out flat in the air, a copy of Holly’s prone body below him, and then sinks slowly towards her until he comes to rest about ten feet above. He hovers there, arms outstretched, cruciform, as though he is floating in the sea, looking down under the water at some beautiful species of fish or coral.
Holly seems to be asleep. Maybe she’s dreaming. Maybe she is dreaming of him. Why would sh
e dream of him? But maybe she does. We don’t have control about who we dream of. She stirs and shifts her position, turning over. Her breasts rise and fall a little with each breath. She moves her face to one side. She has a mole on the line of her jaw.
David moves closer still. He drops his arms and reaches out his hands towards her but flinches as she suddenly takes off her sunglasses and stares straight at him.
He is invisible. He knows that. She can’t see him. And yet – and yet she lifts herself onto her elbows and stretches out her lovely pale neck, frowning, peering up. Then she suddenly reaches out a hand to grab him.
David jerks back from the scope.
He still feels dizzy and clings on to the windowsill for a moment. Things have changed. Holly knowing that he watches her has not – as he thought it might – cured him of wanting to watch. If anything, it has made him want to watch more.
It isn’t like she has expressly forbidden it. Has she? She hasn’t exactly given him permission either, but it feels more consensual – two-way now: a game – a sexy game. His phone pings and he walks over. It’s Ellen. Ellen? How did she even have his number?
The text says: ‘You around? I’m at the shop.’
David replies: ‘OK. See you in 5.’
Is this a date? It feels like kind of a date. Kind of. They have arranged a meeting. Isn’t that what a date is? Whatever it is, it’s a definite step, David is sure if it. A big step. Of some kind. Or other.
‘So are you coming to Ben’s party?’ says Ellen as they sit down.
‘Ben who?’
David knows exactly who she means. Ellen knows he knows and smiles at his attempt at nonchalance.
‘Something tells me I’m not invited,’ says David.
Ellen nods.
‘Yes, you are – I’m inviting you.’
David grimaces. He just wanted to talk to Ellen, be with her – why do they have to talk about some stupid party he doesn’t want to go to? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
‘OK – but I’m not sure that Matt and his friends are going to be OK with that. And to be honest I don’t really care whether I go, so …’
‘Well, it’s not their party,’ says Ellen. ‘I’ve known Ben for ages. Much longer than them. Our mums know each other. They’ve known each other since college. In any case, you can come with me.’
‘Really?’ says David, grimacing again.
‘Charming!’
‘No – I mean, won’t Matt mind?’
‘Stop worrying about Matt.’
‘I thought you and Matt were …’
She raises an eyebrow.
‘I wonder where that sentence was going.’
‘Going out,’ says David. ‘I thought you and he were a thing.’
‘A thing?’
‘Come on – you know what I mean.’
She laughs.
‘Well, the thing is dead,’ she says. ‘It has been for a while. It just didn’t know. Like those movies where the ghost doesn’t know they’re really dead. It was like that.’
‘Oh,’ says David. ‘Sorry.’
‘Are you?’
‘No – not really,’ he says. ‘I’ve never liked Matt to be honest. It’s mutual.’
‘He’s not so bad,’ she says. ‘When you get to know him.’
‘Says the girl who dumped him.’
‘Did I say I dumped him?’
‘Well, didn’t you?’
She laughs.
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Matt’s not the dumping kind. We’d still be trying to work things out when we’re sixty if he had anything to do with it. But if it doesn’t work, you can’t force it, you know what I mean?’
‘Yeah,’ says David.
Of course he didn’t know what she meant. How could he know what she meant? He’d never dumped or been dumped or ever had the chance to discover whether he was the dumping kind or not.
‘I always had a bit of a thing for you, you know,’ she says matter-of-factly, as though she is telling him she liked the colour blue or bacon sandwiches. ‘Even before we played tennis that day.’
‘Have you?’ says David, trying to hit the same tone but sounding short of breath. She nods.
‘Remember that field trip we took? With the school. Ages ago.’
‘To the Lakes?’
He knew.
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Remember we had to walk up that stupid great hill?’
‘Yeah,’ says David with a chuckle.
‘It’s all right for you – you were like a mountain goat or something. But then you stopped and looked back and saw me dragging my sorry arse up and watched as I slipped and fell face first in the mud.’
‘I remember,’ says David.
‘I was sure you were going to laugh, but you didn’t. You came back – you held your hand out and you helped me up.’
David shrugs. He was pulled back to that day – to the feel of her hand in his, her crooked smile, the red sail of a yacht on the sparkling lake way off in the distance behind her head. It was time-travel vivid.
‘Anyone would do that,’ he said.
She shakes her head.
‘Well, no one did – only you. I’ve never forgotten it. You’re kind. Kindness doesn’t really get you noticed much, does it, though? Kindness doesn’t get you laid.’
David blushes. Ellen laughs. She never used to talk like this. She sounds so sure of herself. He tries again to connect this new Ellen to the old one and fails.
David smiles but it’s a bittersweet memory, the memory of that school trip. David’s father had picked him up from the bus when it dropped them off outside the school. As they drove away David watched Ellen saying goodbye to her friends, hugging them and squealing. It was the start of feeling un-included. That was why it had been so amazing when, out of the blue, she’d agreed to play tennis that day.
‘So you’ll come? To the party?’
David grimaces and shakes off the memory. She stands up and he stands with her.
‘Come on!’ she says, slapping him on the arm. ‘Please!’
Then she reaches her arm round his waist and pulls him towards her. Not all the way. It was just a kind of grabbing gesture, her fingers digging into the flesh at the small of his back, but it made David feel as though the ground had suddenly tilted. The whole world now sloped towards Ellen.
‘Yeah,’ he hears himself say. ‘OK.’
He would have agreed to go anywhere at that moment. Ellen lets go of him, having got her way.
‘Good,’ she says, as though ticking something off a list.
With that she begins to walk away, but turns back after a few steps.
‘So that was Holly?’ she says. ‘In the park the other day.’
David can see the nonchalance is contrived. That’s interesting, he thinks. Maybe Holly had been right.
‘Yeah,’ says David, feeling a little taller. ‘That was her. Why did you have to say I’d mentioned her though?’
‘Well, you did.’
‘I know – but she thought I’d told you about her and her boyfriend.’
‘You did. You did tell me that.’
‘I know – but she can’t know that.’
‘I’m sure you handled it very well.’
‘I got away with it – just.’
Ellen nods, smiling. Again she turns to walk away and again she is unable to resist saying just a little more.
‘I thought she’d be better-looking.’
‘Oh?’ says David.
Why was that? Had he even described her? He can’t remember.
‘Yeah,’ says Ellen, flaring her nostrils a little. ‘I don’t know why. I imagined someone sexy.’
‘And you don’t think she is?’
‘What – you do?’
Wait. Wait. Careful.
‘What? No – I just …’
Ellen flares her nostrils before speaking.
‘She seems a bit slutty to me.’
‘Slutty?’
‘A bit,
yeah,’ says Ellen, screwing up her nose. ‘Some men find that sexy, I know. But then …’
David waits for the rest but it never comes. Ellen is always so self-assured – or seems so self-assured – but David can see that she is bothered – bothered by Holly and bothered by David knowing her; but bothered in a way he’s never seen before. The skin of her neck is a little red. She is tapping the toe of one foot.
Holly was right: she has made him seem more interesting than he is and that feels good. It feels surprisingly good.
‘OK then – I’ll see you at the party if not before,’ says Ellen with a little wave and a tight smile. ‘You know where it is?’
He nods.
Then, to his surprise, she walks back towards him, leans forward and kisses him on the lips. David is so surprised, in fact, that he doesn’t move and just stands there, feeling the soft collision of her lips on his.
‘Bye,’ she says.
‘Bye,’ says David, every nerve ending crackling and fizzing.
Chapter 15
A Fresh Wound
David stands at the top of the church tower, one hand holding on to the window’s edge, his foot on the moss-crowned stone head, listening into the wind. There! He’d know the sound of that engine anywhere. And then the cries for help.
He launches himself into the air, as though pushing off from a rock into the sea. The wind feels cold, damp. The first spots of rain strike his face. The graveyard and the boundary trees pass by beneath him.
He swoops out over the fields, kicking his feet every now and then like a swimmer, urging himself onwards, faster and faster, the air rushing past his ears and over the slippery grey suit he wears.
He flies over the top of the rookery, the spikes of his suit whistling, birds taking flight noisily as he passes over. The road snakes away below him – slicing through the earth, glinting like a fresh wound.
Then the screech of brakes and there is the car swerving to the left, bumping up the kerb with a thump and crunch, smashing through the flimsy fence, careering up the embankment, tyres spinning, mud spraying.
David changes direction, throwing himself downwards, diving down, down – come on! come on! – until he is only a few metres above the embankment.
The car has already plunged into the water and David races to grab it before it is submerged. The driver is yelling and banging on the inside of the glass as David digs his hands into the metal and heaves with all his might.
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