During the second half of the week, she began to pick up. She started talking and laughing, cracking little jokes, cooking bits and pieces for him, little treats. By the end of the second week she wanted to take him out somewhere at the weekend, to the pub or for a meal or something. Have a date.
‘We’ve never had a proper date, not a proper going-out date,’ she said. Ben smiled and quailed inside. Terror! They’d be seen! He was fairly sure now she was more or less angling for that. What did it mean? Boyfriend and girlfriend, that’s what. She wanted to go public.
They went out on Friday night to an out of town pub, had a meal, a few drinks, then back to hers. He felt like her pet. It was an ordeal, but at least they didn’t get spotted. He mentioned his relief later in the evening and she got irritated about it.
‘What’s your problem, Ben?’
‘Well, if we got found out, you’d lose your job, wouldn’t you?’ he asked disingenuously.
Ali shrugged. ‘I’m fed up with that job. Teaching isn’t for me. I’ve been thinking of packing it in anyway. I might go down and get some careers advice when I’m feeling up to it.’
‘When?’
‘No hurry. I’m on the sick, aren’t I? Next week, maybe.’
Careers advice? Next week? Ben said nothing but his brain went into overdrive. What possible reason would he have not to see her then – apart from his murderous dislike of her which he could never admit? She was clearing the way for them, a couple in love; except that he wasn’t. Did it matter that he no longer liked her? It certainly made no difference to her. He wasn’t sure she knew what being in love was in the first place.
Ben knew when he was beaten. He was out of his depth. He hadn’t a clue what to do or who to turn to. All he knew was, he was in hell and no way out. It was one of the situations you just have to make the best of, like nursing a child sick with leprosy, or your partner of twenty years who’s broken their neck and can’t move.
No. The magic word. What an ineffectual little spell it was against this witch. The word had gone from his mind as anything of significance, but over the weekend it began to be slowly replaced by another idea – not something necessarily useful, perhaps, but something that might lead towards something useful.
A problem shared.
Dino had impressed him no end, suddenly laying out his whole life to him and Jon that day. Ben didn’t know if it had made any real difference to Dino’s life, telling them everything so shamelessly. After all, they had no power over the shoplifting or his parents or Jackie or Siobhan/Zoë … but even so, Ben felt that just by listening carefully, he and Jon had helped. One or other or both of them were round there at least three nights a week. They went out together at weekends. As usual, even in the midst of great shite, it was lucky old Dino. He had friends, he had sympathy, he had people with an eye out for him. So why shouldn’t it be lucky old Ben? He was so completely alone here – no help, no advice, no sympathy, no nothing. His being true to her was encouraged by her in the first place and now she’d buried him with it. Maybe it was time to be true to himself.
But who to talk to? Mum, Dad? No way! School? No way. Some official thing – the doctor? The Citizens Advice Bureau? It wasn’t that sort of talk he wanted, not yet, anyway. It was a friendly ear he wanted, and that meant Jonathon and Dino. What a pair! Dino was in a mess at the moment: Jon was in a mess more or less all the time, but he did have his good sides. He had some useful insights into things, even though he didn’t always seem to know the difference between an insight and a one-liner. He was a known loudmouth – but he could keep secrets when he really had to, and he really had to this time. He often got hopelessly carried away, especially when he was teasing, which he did far too much. He could be amazingly insensitive, but he could also be more sensitive than almost anyone else Ben knew.
As for Dino, he seemed to be improving, but he had enough on his plate without having to deal with this. After a little thought, Ben decided to leave Dino out. He was off his head just now. One at a time – he could always tell him afterwards if he wanted to. He felt bad about it; not so long ago he had been closer to Dino than he had to Jon, but things had changed lately. He told Jon after school that same day that he wanted to have a word with him. Jon looked horrified.
‘What have I done?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Oh. Right. I thought I must have said something stupid to Dino.’
‘No.’
‘What is it then?’
‘I just want to have a word.’
‘Why?’
‘Never mind why!’
‘How can you have a word with me if you won’t tell me what it’s about?’
‘Jonathon, this is serious.’
‘Is it? Oh – I see. Sorry. What is it – advice?’
‘No! Well, I don’t know. I just … oh, fuck.’
‘No, sorry. I’ll be OK. I just don’t know why you picked me, I’m not very good at this. Right, right now?’
‘No, never mind.’
‘No, really, I’ll be OK. Come on, really, don’t sulk, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
Not a good start. But they went back to Ben’s place and there he spilled the beans. He went through the whole thing – well, quite a lot of it anyway – from beginning to end. Halfway through Jonathon leaped to his feet.
‘So – that night at the disco, it was all true? You really did lie down and get a blow job while you looked up her minge?’
Ben blushed. ‘Never mind that.’
‘But you did, didn’t you? You lucky, lucky bastard! God!’
Despite himself, Ben smiled. ‘Well, I’m paying for it now.’
‘I should think anything would be worth it for that. Christ!’
For a moment it seemed to Ben that this might even be so. Jon was pacing excitedly around the room. ‘Bloody hell,’ he kept saying. ‘Wow! I mean, what was it like? Miss Young! Christ! You jammy bastard. Is that really true?’
‘It’s true,’ said Ben. And despite himself, he savoured his moment of glory.
Jonathon stopped and looked suspiciously at him. ‘Why are you telling me this?’ he wanted to know.
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘Listen – you haven’t heard half of it yet.’
By the time he got up to date, Jon was horrified.
‘How awful! What an old bitch! What a cow!’
‘Well, not a cow, not that bad, not really …’
‘No, no, she really is!’ Jon was pacing about again, this time in outrage. ‘Christ. I mean, listen, Ben – she didn’t do that to herself. She did it to you.’
‘What?’
‘Cutting her wrists, man!’
‘She was trying to kill herself …’ began Ben, but Jonathon shook his head.
‘Bollocks, that’s outrageous. That’s just … abuse. She didn’t try to kill herself. No, that’s a cry for help. Or something. A cry for attention, in her case.’
Ben leaned forward. He knew this. As soon as Jon said it he knew he’d known it all along. He’d even said it to himself a hundred times, but then it had sounded like a shallow excuse. When Jon said it, it was real. In fact, it was obvious.
‘Something like that. Fuck!’ Jon was trying to calm himself, he was so excited. ‘I mean, damaging herself isn’t what she’s after, is it? That’s just a means to an end. She did that to you. Wow, who’d have thought it? She always looked so cool.’ Jon shook his head. ‘Christ. I can’t believe this. It makes me feel dizzy just thinking it. Jesus! Mind you, I’d have thought it’s worth any amount of shit to do the things you did with her – but that’s big shit. That’s the biggest shit I ever heard of. She’s mad! Slicing her wrists just to put a lock on the door. She wants you. At any cost. No, scrub that – she wants anyone at any cost. Wow! Man! Incredible!’
Jonathon babbled away, trapped between amazement, envy and outrage. Ben tried to tease out some sort of advice about it.
‘She’s got you good and proper.’
‘Yep.’
‘The whole time,’ remembered Ben; and through the mists of confusion he recalled his previous thoughts, which had been almost wiped out by the trauma. He’d never even once been able to say no when she wanted sex. He’d never once been asked about anything they did.
‘I managed to avoid going on Thursdays for extra maths,’ said Ben.
‘Christ. She looks so normal. She must be stark raving bonkers. She’s like some sort of carnivore. She really goes for it, doesn’t she? That’s awful. You poor bastard. How are you going to get out of that?’
Poor Ben shook his head and tried not to cry. Jonathon didn’t know whether to put his arms around him or what. He sat next to him and put his hand on his back.
‘She’s a monster,’ he said.
‘I can’t do anything, can I?’ said Ben.
‘Well, it’s not as bad as all that. She wasn’t really trying to kill herself, it’s just a trick. A pretty severe trick, though. That’s the thing; how far will she go to stop you chucking her? Cutting her wrists, it’s pretty dramatic, isn’t it? But you have to leave her. Tell her she’s better now, you haven’t changed your mind, that’s it.’
‘But what’ll she do next? That’s the thing,’ Ben muttered, his eyes filling up.
‘That’s her problem, not yours,’ said Jon. ‘It could be anything, but I bet it wouldn’t be so bad – maybe she’s done her worst. You’ve got to try. You can do it, can’t you?’
Ben thought about it. It was unimaginable. ‘No,’ he said at last.
‘Then tell someone, one of the authorities. You’d be doing her a favour, actually – she needs help. So do you.’
‘Who do I tell?’
‘The school?’
Ben shook his head. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘Your parents.’
‘Do me a favour.’
‘Christ. Well, all I can say is, you need help. This is out of your depth. There must be someone who can do something. Unless you just want to stick it out until she gets fed up with you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘She will in the end, I bet you. The trouble is, I should think anything real that’s horrible enough to see her off has been extinct for at least eighty million years,’ said Jon, trying to jolly him along. ‘Perhaps a geological event of some sort would help. A volcano. An earthquake. Ball lightning.’
‘A pile up on the M1,’ suggested Ben, wiping his eyes. ‘Nuclear fission.’
‘Something out of mythology. The gorgon Medusa. Something even more terrifying than she is. The Incredible Hulk. Superman. A giant anaconda. Another dragon even bigger and more terrible than she is. But where does such a creature exist?’
It was a good move, talking to Jon. It really helped. At first I didn’t actually think he’d said anything I didn’t already know, but at least he reminded me of what was real and what was me being paranoid. There were a lot of things that I’d forgotten about, I was so mixed up. Just having someone else say it for me made it real.
But I was still stuck. What he’d said about sticking it out until she got fed up with me sounded like the most likely scenario, but I didn’t like it. It could go on for years. That’s shit, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve got to do something, don’t you? You don’t just sit there and let it happen. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe that’s life – just letting stuff happen, and keeping your eye out for a chance to dodge the next batch of shit coming your way.
She’d really done me in. I hadn’t realised how much until I started crying that day, talking with Jonathon. I just sat there leaking tears while he cracked jokes to try and cheer me up. Everyone else had noticed already. My mum and dad kept asking me if I was ill, the teachers were the same – one of them even asked me if I wanted to see the school nurse the other day, I was so white. Even Dino noticed, which shows you just how bad it was.
‘You are a bit pale, now I come to think about it,’ he said. Which was quite perceptive for him – my skin looked like a pissy sheet, as Jonathon kindly pointed out.
So I’m buggered and she’s loving it. She’s being really nice – all tender and gentle, now she’s got what she wants. It scares the hell out of me. She’s all sorry for the way she was, sorry about cutting her wrists, sorry about being a bully. She’s started using this little girlie voice, it drives me mad.
‘Would oo like Ali to make oo a cuppa tea, nice Bennie?’ she goes. I mean – she’s in her twenties! It gives me the creeps.
Then, just when I’d more or less made up my mind that I’d just have to stick it out till she’d finished with me, I got an idea. It came from something Jon said, actually, a joke. You never know how what people say will come in handy. It was a really crazy idea. It was playing with fire – but that was the point, you see. What Jonathon said about a dragon even bigger than she was. I found one.
Poor old Ali! You’ve got to feel sorry for her. Jonathon went on about her being a monster, which she was, but she was the victim too. Somewhere down the line she was really done in – worse than me – and I had a good idea who had done it too. But I was out of my depth. I had to get out of there and I was willing to do it any way I could. Maybe it was too late for her – maybe not. But it sure wasn’t too late for me and I wasn’t going to wait until it was.
It was a great idea. And it was cruel and it was selfish and it was cowardly, and completely terrifying, but I was going to do it anyway. I was round at her place when I thought of it. Mid-week. She’d popped out to get something, left me alone in the flat with orders not to let anyone in. The phone rang. Of course I didn’t answer it, so then the answerphone comes on.
‘Ali? Are you there, pick up the phone if you’re there? Ali? I’m coming to visit you. It’s been too long, you never ring, you could be dead as far as I’m concerned. My train gets in at five tomorrow afternoon. If you’re not there to pick me up I’ll catch a taxi. I know it’s very short notice. You must ring me up more often if you want to avoid this sort of thing.’
The phone went down.
Her mother. I thought at once – monster. Not extinct, not mythological. She exists. And she was the only thing I ever saw that Ali was scared of.
I erased the message.
36
jonathon
Someone was telling me this stuff the other day. It’s a secret, I can’t tell you. I guess I’ve got a reputation as a big mouth – in fact I know I have because this person was reluctant to tell me this stuff for that very reason. So I promised, and I won’t even write it down, but it was just about the biggest secret you can imagine. And it was from someone who I’d never have guessed was under such a strain. Just like me, except that for this guy, there’s no way out. We sat down and tried to sort it out for ages, but there’s just no way. The – this woman – she’s got him right by the knackers and you just know she’ll never let go until she finds another pair to hold onto. God! Poor, lucky bastard.
It makes you realise. Everyone’s got their troubles. This secret – I mean! That’s real trouble. And Dino too. I’ve been so crushed by this thing, I’d really started to believe I was going to have to die or spend the rest of my life in a state of misery, but it’s not really true. I mean, Jackie’s definitely not ever going to go out with him again. His parents really are going to separate. He can’t change any of that. And this friend of mine is totally stuffed too, but I can do something for myself, however embarrassing it is. I can go to the doctor. The doctor will say, Fine, nope, nothing wrong – and I’ll be OK. I have to do it. I just have to be prepared to get embarrassed.
This friend of mine. This problem he’s got! Wow! You should hear about that. I could not believe my ears. I thought I had problems. I tell you, compared to what he has going on, imaginary cancer of the knob is nothing. I mean nothing. And it proves one thing. Sex is trouble. My mum always says, Sex rears its ugly head. Which I always supposed meant that she thought knobs are ugly, but perhaps she jus
t means trouble.
I can’t tell you. Really, it’s impossible. It’s not just being discreet, it’s really serious stuff. Honestly, I can’t say a word. It was so awful I got over-excited and started jumping around the place and Ben had to make me sit down and think about it. All I wanted to ask him was about what she – this woman he’s got himself around with – how it started and what they did, you know? And how on earth he can do anything about that, I do not know. All he can do is ride it out. But I was really flattered, you know – that he’d spoken to me. He must have thought I was worth telling. He could have told any number of people. He’s a popular guy with the girls and the boys. I’m just a gob, really, but he chose to tell me. It made me think, maybe I’m not so useless after all. Maybe I even helped.
The funny thing about it was, all the stuff I was saying to him, all the advice, could have been applied to me. Like, ‘You need help.’ I said that to him. ‘You have to tell someone who can do something about it.’ See? If I’d had the courage to tell him what I was suffering from, he’d have said just the same back.
But I didn’t. He can, I can’t. Apart from anything else, I suppose, he’s got a real problem while mine’s just a joke.
I dunno. Maybe I shouldn’t go to the doctor. Maybe I should tell this friend. But – it really is too embarrassing. I mean, his problem, it’s awful but it’s cool. Mine’s just crap.
Who else could I tell? My mother?
‘I’m worried about my penis, Mother. It’s all lumpy.’
‘Ah, poor dear. Let Mummy have a look at it. There, we’ll just put a plaster on that. There! Good as new. Now, go out and stick it in a nice girl like a good boy.’
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