by Grant Hunter
‘Good morning,’ I said softly.
‘So, you’re still alive? Everyone is annoyed. We’ve all had to wait, and this guy is hungry!’ said the Swedish, blonde bodyguard look-alike who was sitting next to Jen. She punched him in his side and Jen laughed kindly at me as she moved over a bit for me.
‘Ignore Josh,’ she said excitedly.
Josh laughed.
‘Come sit here…’ Jen made a sign that I should sit next to her on the bench.
‘How can anyone ignore Josh?’ I moved onto the edge of the hard bench and immediately Joy jumped-up, lifted her glass and tapped it with her spoon.
‘For God’s sake, not this as well,’ grumbled the Swede.
I chuckled, but saw the grumpy look that Jen gave me.
‘Shhh!’
‘For sure pregnant,’ I whispered.
Joy cleared her throat. ‘Dear friends. I’m very delighted to have you all around here at breakfast. One later than the other...’
She paused for a moment, and looked my way.
‘Yes, sorry,’ I laughed sheepishly and shrugged my shoulders, while I felt the blood rushing to my face.
‘I’m blessed being around good people. It makes my life better and I have not been this happy for a long time. Thanks to all of you.”
I only heard half of what she said. It became an increasing jumble of words, that I only half listened to. Tired, I supported my chin with my hand while I tried to stifle a yawn. Opposite me I saw Mercedes Sanchez, the oldest of the fraternity, picking a piece of bacon up carefully. The middle-aged woman with the Spanish accent had for years been the cleaning lady of the McAllen’s.
After the tragic accident, Mercedes had been given custody of Joy; she helped her with the housekeeping. It was her idea to rent the house to students. Thanks to this brilliant plan, Joy was able to maintain her luxurious lifestyle and she didn't need to work a single day.
‘… and as you all know, Robin and I have been together for a while…’ She looked at me, paused for a moment, and then continued.
I swallowed, afraid of what was coming.
‘Now Robin will come to live with us now, as we are engaged.’ Joy held her hand out, revealing the diamond ring on her finger.
I heard a loud choking sound. It was Mercedes. She turned pale. Justin, who sat next to her, jumped up and hit her between her wide shoulder blades, until she spit out a piece of bacon. His glasses hung wonky on his nose.
Justin was the last student to join the Van Burgh Park fraternity. He made me shudder, without knowing why. Justin was a lanky boy, who looked unkempt. He wore thick glasses, that made his piercing eyes seemed three times bigger than they were. He rented the attic, where he locked himself up for days. I always wondered what he was doing and why he didn’t seem to care that he lived on the attic. Packed with boxes and old junk. Smelling like old paper, mothballs, mildew and dust – surrounded with memories of a gone family. A time the whole house smelled wonderful, like hot baked apple pie, instead of sweaty socks and old pizza leftovers. At least that was how I imagined the house in Van Burgh Park before the plane tragedy happened.
Justin was a Lone Wolf, someone in the wrong time with the wrong people. Yet he was the first one who stood up and walked to Joy, shook her hand and chatted to her.
‘Robin is using her,’ whispered Jen in my ear.
I nodded.
The Swede followed Justin’s example, and embraced Joy fondly.
‘I hope you will welcome Robin as much as I do,’ Joy added gently when a murmur erupted She finally sat down, and everyone grabbed for the toast.
I nodded to her while I placed a piece of toast on my plate.
‘Congratulations. And thank you for breakfast.’
She looked at me in surprise.
‘Well, thank you, Naomi.’
‘Yes, thanks for that too!’ said Josh, who sat again. ‘You’re the best landlady ever!’
He looked like he was starving. He over filled his plate. It was buried under of a weird mess of egg, sausage, fried tomatoes, beans and bacon. He grabbed for the toast and added two more slices to his gigantic breakfast.
Jen wobbled nervously back and forth.
‘Joy?’
I poked Jenny in the ribs.
‘Yes?’
‘She wants to say she is happy for you, right?’ I hissed at her.
Jen looked worried, I recognised her expression. She was going to say something that would put everyone into shock. Dramatically and slightly exaggerated. Like she acted in drama class. Before she would dare to say more, I kicked her under the table, but she didn’t even react.
‘About Robin…’ She started.
‘Jen, don’t!’ I gave her a fierce gaze.
‘We went out yesterday, Naomi me and...” She fell silent, searching for the right words.
That was exactly what I needed, to save the situation. A pause.
‘He groped me. Drunk, you know. We were all at it and eh... he just fell. Could happen to anyone, right?’
I held my breath when I saw how red faced Joy became. Veins stood out on her neck. From the other side of the table, Justin looked at me with a bleary look. Or did it just seem so because of the jam pot glasses? He opened his mouth, but said nothing.
4
My legs felt heavy. I tried to ignore the burning sensation in my calves but I always felt sick when jogging. “Just run through the pain. You can do it! Just a little further. Don’t give up.” A motivational voice talked to me during my workout in Greenwich park: It was all about whether I could achieve my daily goal. I ran on the paved road past my university that was now in summer recess. It looked quiet. Almost deserted, except for a handful of diehards. The Roman architecture of the university breathed the architecture of a surreal film set. It didn’t match with the backdrop of the state-of-the-art skyscrapers in the distance.
Here in Greenwich Park surrounded by stunning gardens I felt gradually at home. The wide openness gave me a safe feeling, a feeling of being at home in the Netherlands, despite the size and loneliness of the overcrowded capital of England.
I was out of breath and heard myself gasping. With every step a mantra boomed in the back in my head. Come on, don’t give up. Three more minutes before the break. Run to the bench and then back home again. I passed a young couple walking a baby in a stroller, and was almost run over by a cyclist. I cursed at him in Dutch but stopped when I felt dizzy. Focus, Naomi. There, the bench. I was annoyed by an old man lying on it. Damn it. I slowed down realizing I couldn’t sit there today. In annoyance I pulled my bottle from my waist belt and drank half the bottle.
Exhausted I fell back onto the grass. My heart rate dropped, and I felt better. The soft, pleasantly cool summer breeze stroked my cheeks. I stared at the blue sky and the strange shaped clouds that drifted by. Except for the shouts made by some football players and a crying baby in the distance, it was peaceful in Greenwich Park. I pressed my pulse with my fingers, to measure my pulse rate by counting the heart beats. Twenty-one, Twenty-two, Twenty-three. Slowly I counted while I tried to breathe steadily.
I almost felt relaxed. Almost, except for my thoughts, of that dickhead with his ridiculous eyeliner, that kept coming into my head. A shameless flirt. I remembered how he helped me out cleaning my shirt, covered in red wine, with salt and lemon from the tequila shots. Damn it. How many shots did we drink? Most of the memories were nothing more than flashes; Robing laughing. Jen dancing on the table and Josh encouraging us.
But I spoke with Jen, about struggling with my feelings. This weird attraction I felt for Robin. Jenny was probably right. I couldn’t hate Robin, not really. She told me the disgust was a kind of self-protection; I all too well realised that she was right. I couldn't take the risk of letting him come close. I couldn't resist him, and Joy would throw me straight out. ‘Stupid, stupid girl,’ I said to myself.
I shook my head and just as I came back to reality, somebody yelled: ‘Duck!’ Before I realized what was happe
ning, something hit my face. It felt like I had been hitting a brick wall.
‘Fuck,’ I groaned as I didn’t understand what happened, and I put my hand to my cheek and fell back into the grass. It burned. My lips felt swollen. Something warm dripped from my nose.
‘Shit. Damn it!’ I wiped the blood away with my sleeve.
Someone leant over me. The stranger handed me a tissue while I tried to stop my nosebleed.
‘Sorry! I didn’t see you.’
I muttered sarcastically ‘yes, and thanks, huh,’ and I dabbed my bleeding nose with the paper. My head felt light.
‘You have to pinch it. That helps.’
He was about my age. He had dark blond hair, with highlights, and a medium build. His fleece jogger pants seemed too big for him.
I threw my head backwards and pinched the soft part of my nose, just above my nostrils, with the blood soaked paper.
‘Better?’ He looked at me with concern.
‘Am bebber,’ I said nasally.
‘I am so sorry.”
He held out his hand to me. As I gave him mine, he pulled me up.
‘Here, it is still bleeding.’ He pointed to my chin and I wiped the blood away.
‘It’s all over your clothes. I’m very sorry. I promise that I'll make it up to you somehow. At least let me pay to have your clothes cleaned…’
‘No, you don’t have to,’ I felt like everything was spinning around me, whirling off balance, and I grabbed on to his shoulder to keep me from falling down.
‘I think you should see a doctor.’
‘What? For a bloody nose? No’ I answered and suddenly I was able to regain my balance.
‘Can you stand on your own feet?’
‘Yes. Of course.’
‘Than you can let go?’
It was then that I realized that I still squeezed his shoulder. My cheeks turned red, and I tried to smile through my shyness.
He nodded emphatically at me, then grabbed the ball from the ground and looked at me again with concern.
‘Are you sure you’re going to be alright?’
‘Yes. Quite sure.’
I looked into his bright sparkling, green eyes as he offered his right hand for a handshake.
‘Gabriel Frost. Gabe to my friends.’
‘Naomi.’
‘Only Naomi? You’re a student?’
‘Naomi Quinns,’ I nodded. ‘What gave it away?’
He grinned from ear to ear.
‘I mean, I don't want to be rude, but you have a strong accent.’
‘So I've heard,’ I mumbled.
‘You jog near the university, perhaps because you are frightened to get lost in this big city. What gave it away; you stare at the blue sky with blurry eyes, daydreaming. You look sad, because you are homesick.’
‘That was pretty good,’ I said softly.
‘Thanks. My unfinished psychology course comes in handy. Especially when I'm trying to make an excuse for my clumsiness. Before you ask, Gabe, why unfinished? I’ll tell you. I am a sports enthusiast. I can't sit in one place for hours.’ He tapped the ball.
I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. ‘That’s a lame excuse.’ ‘Maybe. Say what? I grew up in a newly built suburb on the far outskirts of London. Can I show you around?’
‘No, thank you.’
He gave a spooky little giggle, that gave me a very uncomfortable feeling.
‘You must hate me,’ he said. ‘I feel guilty. There must be something I can do to apologise. Let me try, Naomi. Give me a chance.’
I shook my head. ‘Sorry, I - I have to go.’
‘I will call you,’ he said, leaning towards me.
‘Fine,’ I called after him as I jogged away.
5
It was almost as if Joy was waiting for me behind the door. Holding up a feather duster, wearing rubber gloves and giving the impression she was cleaning. But I knew she wasn’t. She looked shocked as I passed her.
‘What happened? You look like you have been run over by a bus.’
‘I’m fine,’ I mumbled.
‘Listen, Naomi. Jen told me what happened last night.’
‘She did?’ I swallowed. ‘What did she…’ but I didn’t finish my sentence. For God’s sake. How much did I drink last night? Why couldn’t I remember? Joy looked at me imploringly.
‘Please tell me the truth, Naomi. What exactly happened? I want to know before Robin moves in. Please tell me…’
I stared at my muddy trainers.
‘Don’t break your head over it, Joy. Nothing happened. Jenny spilled her wine, and Robin just wanted to help me. That’s all.’
‘All right, don’t tell me the truth,’ Joy hissed. ‘You think I’m stupid? I know there is a strange frisson between you.’ ‘Believe me. I don’t like Robin.’
My voice sounded too high.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘But if there is something, anything, you would say so, right?’
I nodded.
‘Of course. But right now, I want to take a shower.’
‘Why are you bleeding?’
‘I got kicked in the face with a football.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’ I turned, walked upstairs, straight to the shower, without waiting for her reaction. In the bathroom my bathrobe lay near the toilet. Not where I dropped it. The thing was wet and lay crumpled in a corner.
‘Damn, Jenny,’ I grumbled and stepped into the shower.
After five minutes I turned the water off, just before the warm water turned cold. I stepped out and opened the small window so that the steam could escape. Still grumbling, I pulled the wet robe over my dripping body. With my sleeve I wiped away the steam from the sink mirror. I leaned forward and looked at the reflection. A pale face stared back, with swollen lips that looked like I just had lip fillers. Suddenly it was as if looked directly through the mirror. I saw myself, but through the eyes of someone else. The eyes that stared back were dead and empty. Lips that formed words, without me moving my mouth. Strange lines appeared on the face, like a spider web. I stared at my lips, but the mirror was steamed up. I put my hand out and my finger actually began to write letters.
Sharon Tate…
Quickly I wiped it away. Oh, No. Not again. I didn’t want to have a nervous breakdown. I couldn’t handle that now. In my head I could already hear my psychiatrist say: Breathe slowly and let it go. I heard a loud rap at the door.
‘Naomi? It’s me Jen…’
‘Y-yes?’
‘Josh and I are driving into town. Do you want to come?’
My legs felt like rubber. ‘No. I’m a little tired.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘Do you want to go to The Blue tonight instead?’
‘Serious Jenny? Of course not. I’m not going out to where I work.’
‘Crowd’s Cove then?’
‘Fine.’
‘Great! See you later…’
I heard the tapping of her heels as she went down the stairs. I turned away from the mirror, opened the bathroom door and walked back to my room, where I got between the sheets.
Laying on my bed, half asleep, footsteps made the ceiling creak above me.
‘For God’s sake,’ I murmured.
Justin was pacing back and forth like a caged wolf. With my eyes half open, I stared at the ceiling.
‘What is that guy doing in the attic, all day long?’
It was a mystery to me. I almost never saw him, except when he slipped in and out of the house. And at our Saturday breakfast. The floor squeaked again and I pulled the blanket over me. ‘Just ignore it…’
But even with my hands covering my ears, I couldn’t ignore Justin. Agitated I jumped out of bed, grabbed a dress from the floor and pulled it over my head and grunted when I heard the noise of moving furniture above me. In bare feet I climbed the narrow stairs to the attic. After a few steps it started to smell musty and when I got to the top of the stairs I felt I was going to sne
eze.
One side of the attic was shut off by a chipboard wall; the other side was full of cardboard boxes, toys and old junk. All the things that Joy couldn’t throw away because they reminded her of her parents. That’s why I found it so weird that she let Justin rent the upper floor. It could only be for the money. It was also a mystery to me why someone would want to live in this rubbish tip; although in London you could rent out a garage space for a ridiculous price because of the shortage of places to live.
I knocked on the door next to the chipboard wall. With a crash Justin opened it. He must have been standing behind it.
‘Eh...’ I now regretted that I had gone upstairs. What should I say?
He took his glasses off, furiously rubbed them clean with his T-shirt and put them back on. Then he opened the door wide and made, completely against my expectations, an inviting gesture.
‘Come in, Naomi.’
I shook my head. Behind his silhouette I saw a huge mountain of magazines lying on the ground. ‘Are you reading?’
He laughed. ‘Something like that. I collect comics.’
‘Oh. All right then.’
‘Come and see.’
My heart raced, but I couldn’t suppress my curiosity. Now I could finally look around in his room and I entered into his domain, where it even smelled mustier than outside. Hundreds of comic books were scattered around the room.
‘Why are they all open on the ground?’
He closed the door.
‘I’m looking for clues.’
‘What?’
‘A code. I’ll show you…’
He picked one up, pointed at something on the paper, looked me straight in the eye with a stern glare. The skinny boy was too close to me. Nervously I stepped aside.
‘What do you see?’ he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
