Because of Lucy: 2016 Revised Edition (Butterfly Days #1)

by Lisa Swallow

  I pull my mask back on and smile in encouragement. “Where are you going? Sounds interesting.”

  Ness launches into an excited speech about her plans for the future. Every part of her transforms with the enthusiasm. I’ve never seen Ness’s face this animated or eyes as bright. But I understand. Her choices—the job—drag her down, and I realise I haven’t been getting to know the real Ness at all.

  And I’m jealous. Really bloody jealous. Ness can have whatever she wants; her past is escapable. Hell, Ness’s past will pay for her escape.

  “Must be nice,” I say when she pauses.

  “What?”

  “Having money.”

  Her hands, which waved around, painting pictures of her adventures, stop in mid-air. “I earn my money.”

  “You mean no one’s paying for your trip?”

  “By no one, do you mean my parents?”

  “You’re going to save all the money on your own?”

  Ness turns her unimpressed look to me. “Is that beyond the realm of possibility? Think I’ll ask Mummy and Daddy?” She says the words with disdain, mocking me.

  Misunderstanding. Jealousy. Irritation. We reconstruct the original Ness and Evan, and her face clouds.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I take a drink and consider how deeply I’ve put my foot in it.

  “What do you think of me, Evan?”

  “It’s probably best we don’t keep going with this conversation. Forget it.”

  I wish I’d bitten my tongue, not let my hurt take over. Crap. It’s not as if we’re a real couple.

  “This is very reminiscent of the first time I spoke to you. I thought we’d got past categorising each other. But what am I? Still see me as Daddy’s princess?”

  “No, I think you’ve got an insecurity about your past. If you were a princess, I doubt you’d be working in a call centre. I don’t think of you that way.”

  She straightens. “What about you? Your past? What’s the big insecurity following you around? What’s your secret, Evan?”

  Ness fixes her eyes on me, and deep inside my stomach, I know this is more than an argument about our past lives. Something else is behind her uneasy silence today.

  “Don’t,” I warn her. “You know I don’t talk about shit from my past.”

  “Then don’t ask me to open up to you.” She drinks her beer in several gulps and places the glass on the table. “I think I should go.”

  I put my hand on hers. “Ness? What’s going on?”

  With impeccable timing, my phone rings. Ness glares at it, then at me. “Answering it?”

  “No.”

  She stands and I catch her arm. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you. I just reacted badly to you saying you were leaving. You took me by surprise.”

  “What does it matter? We hardly know each other, Evan. You’re hiding something, and I’m not getting involved with somebody who lies to me.” Ness gestures at the phone. “Who calls you? Every time I’m with you, this happens.”

  The phone rings again and I cancel the call.

  “What about you? Haven’t you done the same? Pigeon holed me?” I ask.

  She snorts. “Into a guy who screws around because he has abandonment issues?”

  I curl my fingers around my phone, the metal crushing into my palm. “Too far, Ness.”

  Ness leans over the table, her breath shortening. Her sudden shift in mood startles me. “Well, you screwed me and never got in touch. Why? What are you hiding?”

  The ringtone interrupts my answer.

  “Answer it, for fuck’s sake! What is your issue with phones?” she snaps.

  I cancel the call and slam the phone on the table, blown away by her and where this came from. The last time I fought with a girl, she was a blubbering mess within seconds. Ness is poking straight into my wounds, exposing her own insecurity at the same time without realising. The way she’s looking at me now, barely disguised hurt in her shining eyes, I could try the cliché thing from chick flicks—lean across the table and kiss Ness, tell her I want her, tell her all my secrets. The thing is I don’t think Ness is a chick flick kind of girl. She sits heavily back on the stool. The tension between us is tight, and I’m willing Ness not to leave because I’m not sure she’d ever come back. What the hell is going on with her?

  I’m concentrating on Ness so hard I miss my phone ringing again. Ness snatches it off the table and looks at the screen. Before I can take the phone back, she reads the name. The anger in her face melds into something else. Hurt? Disgust? I don’t know. Ness holds her arm straight, phone centimetres from my face.

  “Lucy wants to talk to you.”

  “Put it down.”

  “Your girlfriend wants you,” she says in a cold voice.

  “She’s not my girlfriend, put it down.”

  The phone stops ringing and she turns it back to herself. Ness scrolls down the screen “Lucy really wants to talk to you, today alone she’s tried twenty times.” Her demeanour could freeze the room. “You bastard,” she says softly. “I knew you were hiding something. Did you screw her and leave as well? Or worse?”

  “No.”

  Ness stands and pulls her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ve had my suspicions. You and that fucking phone, hiding hushed conversations from me. Why lead me into thinking we could be something?”

  I rub my hand down my face. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ve heard that one before. It never is, is it? I waited for you to explain to me about the calls and you didn’t. So there’s a reason you can’t tell me, isn’t there, Evan?”

  All I can do is shake my head. The words won’t come out. Why can’t I tell her? I need to. Or she’s gone.

  Ness makes a derisive noise. “See, you have no explanation. I’m not bloody stupid, Evan. Why screw around with my feelings too? Call your girlfriend or whoever she is, and keep the hell away from me.”

  * * *

  NESS

  I’m angry. Really fucking angry, but with myself, for letting Evan suck me into his lies. How long was he going to keep going for? Until he screwed me again? The next few days, I mull over the whole Evan episode. Men say women are confusing, but I don’t understand his game. Either Lucy has been in his life all along, at least since the night he kissed me, or he’s a serial heartbreaker who chooses girls inclined to stalk him afterwards. Twenty calls in one day. Jesus. That’s crazy. The girl should get the hint.

  Well, he needn’t worry about me stalking him. I’m out. My crazy was my hormones, and they’re under control now.

  The first day I receive texts and calls from Evan, which I don’t answer. How ironic. After a day, he gives up that easily. This hurts more. Then I start obsessing over who Lucy is. She could be any one of his number of conquests. I wonder how recent. Before me? After? At the same time? I waited for him to explain the calls in the week we reconnected, but he didn’t. Then I think back to the first time Evan kissed me, and the phone calls he avoided. The same girl? She could be an ex from home. Wow. Yes. That explains his trip to Lancaster.

  Whoever Lucy is, she’s persistent.

  I arrive home from another crappy day at work to find the kitchen overflowing with dishes and rubbish. The bitchiness at work becomes worse as my withdrawal from any interaction with anyone there increases. I contemplate leaving, but I need the money for travelling. Instead, I stick pictures of the countries I intend to visit all over my work cubicle and when a particularly awkward customer calls, I focus on Australia. Or India. Or anywhere with no crap job, students, or Evans.

  Then I come home to this bullshit. The house is littered in dirty mugs and clothes strewn around. Abby only has four hours of class a day and I’m sick of her laziness. This house share idea has threatened our friendship from day one.

  An envelope is propped against the kettle, my name scrawled on the front. At first, I think the note is from Abby, but the writing isn’t familiar. I open the envelope and find a card with a painted picture of a blue butt
erfly on the front. Inside, a phrase is written in spiked handwriting:

  ‘I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.’

  Tears spring into my eyes and I blink rapidly, furious with my reaction when I read the words beneath.

  ‘I want to tell you about Lucy’.

  Evan’s name is signed underneath.

  I sit onto a nearby chair, attempting to catch my breath, and the tears spill. The card infuriates me. This attempt by Evan to worm his way into my psyche through something he’s seen in the movies has bloody worked. There’s a poignancy in the words and the simplicity of his message, which punches a hole straight through my defences.

  I scrub my eyes. Okay, he can tell me about Lucy, but his explanation won’t change anything. Because whoever she is, he’s lied to me by hiding her.

  Which begs the question, why am I agreeing to see him?

  20

  EVAN

  The fury inside when Lucy ruins everything with Ness is uncontainable. I head back to my halls and drink myself into unconsciousness, to stop myself doing anything stupider. The next morning I try to contact Ness; but the irony of my repeatedly unanswered calls becomes too big a reminder of how we got here, so I give up.

  The next day, I throw myself into the gym. Every day. For hours. Exhausting myself and pumping out the adrenaline coursing around my body.

  Lucy’s calls continue and I come close to answering. Instead, drunk, I call him, in Lancaster. I scream about how he’s ruined my life and failed me. Failed us both. Then I bury myself back in the bottle, numbing myself. Nothing works. I can’t stop the pain caused by being unable to escape Lucy’s pain too.

  Poetry class smacks me around the head with another irony. We’re onto Romanticism. Byron. Tortured poets. Ha, ha. I don’t know why I send the card to Ness, but when I read the quote, from Keats’s love letters, the words resounded. A week of butterfly days with Ness, until Lucy tore the wings off.

  I don’t expect Ness to respond. Knowing her, she’ll think the card is insincere. Ness doesn’t call, but she texts a time and a place to meet. I’m mixed up by her response. I half-wished she hadn’t called and forced me to confront this.

  Matt hassles me to go on another drinking binge with him; he enjoys the bacchanalian side of my pain. I fob Matt off, tell him I’m meeting Ness, and instruct him not to bring his drinking buddies to the pub because another reminder of the Evan she detests won’t help the situation.

  I’m here. Ness is late.

  This small pub is a good choice because few students come here; I’m unlikely to bump into anyone from uni, notably other girls. Older locals prop themselves against the bar, talking quietly over the music from the jukebox, and I smile at the old style of the place. My beer glass empties quickly and I stop because alcohol isn’t going to help this situation. Nausea churns around my stomach; the decision to acknowledge my old life in this new one terrifies me.

  The heavy entrance door opens and a girl enters. Her face is pale, curls partly obscuring her face, brown eyes searching the room. The girl’s hands flutter around, as if she’s reaching out for something, and I know she’s looking for me. The beer resting heavily on my stomach pushes into my mouth.

  Lucy.

  How the fuck did she find me?

  In the half-empty pub, she spots me easily. I’ve no chance of hiding anymore.

  Lucy darts over and sits on the stool. I swallow as I recognise the wild confusion on her face. “Evan, I’ve been looking for you. You have to help me.”

  She grabs at my sleeve with broken fingernails; fingernails Lucy once lovingly painted different colours.

  “Lucy, you can’t come here.” The words tumble out, but they don’t sound as if they’re from my mouth as the world spins away from me.

  “Please, Evan. I don’t know who else to ask.”

  Lucy’s voice rises above the low hubbub of the pub and heads turn. Shit. Lucy’s shaking and I know what’s coming; I can’t sit here and risk a Lucy meltdown.

  Grabbing my jacket, I touch her arm. “Okay, come with me.”

  Her face transforms with relief. “Thank you.”

  I want to drag Lucy out of the pub, but I can’t. So I let her follow and I spin around as soon as we step into the cold November evening.

  “What do you want me to do, Lucy? I can’t help you!”

  Her face crumples again and she grabs my sleeve. “No, Evan, you’re the only one I can trust. Please. Help me.” My rigid body doesn’t belong to me. This isn’t real. Lucy isn’t here. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

  “I don’t know what to do to help you. You shouldn’t have come. I don’t want you here. I’m starting a new life.”

  Lucy grabs fistfuls of her hair and screams, her cry so familiar the sound washes over me, and I don’t respond. I’m pushed against the wall as she switches to an attack, fists smashing my chest, nails scratching my bare arms. Her assault doesn’t faze me. Not anymore.

  Through the numbness of the night, her pleading voice and attempts to get my attention fade into the darkness I will to consume me. Nothing from the outside world exists right now.

  Apart from the sight of Ness standing a few hundred metres away.

  NESS

  One hell of a domestic is happening outside the pub where I’m meeting Evan. The girl’s screams can be heard echoing down the city street before I even turn the corner. There’s nothing unusual about people fighting in the streets around here, especially where alcohol is concerned, but it’s pathetic that people let themselves get into the mess. I head down the slope towards the pub where two figures argue outside.

  “Evan!”

  The scream arrests me and, as I approach, I study the couple more carefully. Evan’s impassive face is illuminated by the pub sign and a small female figure lays into him. I don’t know what stops me from running in the opposite direction when I see this, but I continue towards the pub. Then hesitate. Evan isn’t responding. He’s standing resigned to his fate as the girl pummels him. Why doesn’t Evan catch her hand or talk to her? He’s worse than I thought.

  Evan notices me, catches one of the girl’s arms, and pushes her away from him. As he strides towards me, I turn away. My walk becomes a run as his footsteps catch up.

  “Ness!”

  “Don’t you talk to me!” Evan grabs my arm; I stop and shrug him off. “Is this her?” I indicate the girl approaching us.

  “Yes.”

  “When you said you were going to tell me about Lucy, I didn’t expect you to introduce me to your ex!” My heart thumps, anger shaking through. I’m close to slapping him, but that’d lower me to their level.

  The girl approaches and seizes Evan’s arm. “Who’s she?”

  “This is Ness,” he replies.

  “Who’s Ness?” The edge to her voice scares me and I step back. Maybe Lucy’s psycho behaviour applies to any other woman in Evan’s life too.

  “I don’t know what you expected to achieve by this!” I shout at him.

  “I didn’t expect to see her.” He doesn’t shout back and keeps his voice low.

  “I bet!”

  “Who’s Ness?” continues the girl.

  “My friend.”

  “What friend?”

  “A new friend.”

  Their conversation sends a prickle across my scalp and I look at the girl properly for the first time. Her appearance shocks me; not only her reddened eyes and tear-streaked face, but the unruly hair and dishevelled clothing. The worst thing about Lucy is the anguish on her face. What has he done to her? She picks at a thread on Evan’s jacket, an odd repetitive gesture.

  “Who is she, Evan?”

  Evan turns vacant eyes to me; the look of someone who’s disconnected himself from his surroundings.

  He’s scaring me.

  She’s scaring me.

  “This is Lucy. She’s my sister.” />
  21

  NESS

  “Sister?”

  Evan’s face is as empty as his eyes. “Yes, she isn’t well.”

  Lucy grips his jacket. “I’m fine. I just needed to know where you were. You’ve been hiding from me.”

  “Not well?” Evan’s not talking about flu and my understanding of the situation shifts. My parents are doctors. Dad’s a psychiatrist, and I’ve seen mental illness in school friends.

  “I said I’m okay.” Lucy’s voice rises a decibel, and Evan shakes himself back to reality.

  “Okay, Lucy. How long have you been in Leeds?” he asks.

  Lucy rubs her head. “Just today I think. I saw Matt. He told me where you were tonight. I haven’t seen him for a while either. Why did you both leave?”

  “I came to Leeds to study.”

  “You left when they had me. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

  Evan’s dishevelled appearance from his sister’s attack matches the disarray in his mind reflected in his face and I want to reach out to him.

  “Sorry, Lucy,” he says softly.

  Someone walks out of the pub, a middle-aged man with receding brown hair, shrugging on his winter jacket. He regards us suspiciously.

  We shouldn’t stay here. “Do you want to come back to my house?” I ask.

  “That sounds like a great idea, you must be freezing?” Evan cajoles his sister.

  “Sure, do you have wine there?”

  I smile at her. “I have a friend, Abby. She has a lot of wine.”

  Lucy’s grip on Evan’s arm loosens and her eyes lose their wide-eyed fear. In silence, we head towards my house.

  * * *

  Abby’s preparing for a night out when we walk in. She’s half-dressed, towel wrapped around her hair with mirror propped up on the table, as she applies mascara.

  “Hey…” Her voice trails off as she takes in the sight of the three of us. “Didn’t expect to see you again,” she says to Evan. “Ever.”