by Sam Hayes
Jonathon rowed on for all he was worth, puffing through each pull of the wooden oars across the still lake.
‘Did you feel that?’ A big plop of rain landed on my bare shoulder. I was gleeful. It was an adventure and all the attention was lavished solely on me. I was damn well going to enjoy myself. ‘It’s raining.’
‘The only raindrop in the entire storm and it fell on you, Mary Marshall.’ David grinned. He always made me feel special, whether he was studying deadly pathogens or whispering poetry to me in the library. Just for that evening, I allowed myself to believe I was.
Within a couple of minutes the lake was peppered with mini explosions. The raindrops had turned to hailstones. ‘Oh, God,’ I laughed as my skin tingled. ‘Get us out of this, Jonathon!’ The ice beads pelted my skin, the inside of the boat, our heads, our hearts. I helped pull faster on the oars. The sky had blackened so that it was hard to tell where lake ended and cloud began. We were in fits of laughter, and from the corner of my eye, I saw David drinking champagne from the bottle.
Finally we reached the opposite shore and spilled from the boat. We ran from the water and took shelter under some trees. By then the hail was mixed with rain and the first crack of thunder broke overhead. Our spines tingled together as the electricity fused our bones. It was the most thrilling feeling I’d ever had.
‘Come on. Let’s make a dash for the hut.’ I can’t remember who said it. Just a voice threaded between the raindrops.
It wasn’t much more than a gardener’s shed. Jonathon rattled the padlocked door and pulled a face. ‘That’s that then. Locked.’ We huddled under the shallow eaves to escape the downpour. Cold beads tracked down my skin, my neck, my arms.
‘What a shame,’ I said, peering through the grimy window. ‘It looks so cosy in there.’ I squinted through the cobwebs and saw the outline of an old settee, a table, a rug. General clutter resolved through the murk.
‘Boo!’ Jonathon barked at me. I jumped.
‘Oh God, don’t,’ I squealed. ‘You scared the life out of me.’ I shook with fear and delight.
Then, silently, David withdrew a knife from his pocket. It was a fold-up knife with a bone handle, perhaps one that would be used for hunting – skinning a rabbit or stilling a writhing fish on a line. He picked and scratched uselessly at the padlock, then spotted the mallet leaning against the side of the hut. After a couple of blows, he had the metal strap hanging from shredded wood.
‘Don’t breathe too hard,’ he said. ‘The whole place is so rotten it could fall down any minute.’
‘Oh look,’ I said, breathless with excitement. I was the first to step inside. ‘Someone actually lives here.’ I felt like Goldilocks. We shuffled forward, gradually realising that it was indeed someone’s home. ‘What if they come back?’
‘If you ask me, it’s the groundsman’s place,’ David said. ‘He’ll only use it when he’s working this side of the estate, and on a day like today, what with the wedding and the bad weather, I doubt he’ll disturb us.’
‘You’re right,’ I said, relieved. I didn’t want to go back yet. I fell on to the ancient sofa. I fanned my hand as a cloud of dust ballooned around me. ‘Come on then, crack open the bottles.’
None of my behaviour that day was typical. Maybe the storm had opened a crevice in my brain and good sense had fallen out; maybe it was the idea of being holed up with David and his intriguing friend – they were so similar yet excitingly different – that thrilled me. I was out of my usual domain; I felt as if anything could happen.
With hindsight, maybe it was my fault. However attracted I was to David, I understood full well that as the older woman, I had a duty to behave. I’d made a pledge to myself and intended to keep it. There was fun to be had but nothing else. For me, that made it all the more exciting.
We drank more champagne. The glasses had miraculously stayed intact on our turbulent journey. ‘Anyone fancy something a little stronger?’ The rain beat on the tin roof, and until I realised what David meant, I just listened to its rhythm. The pair of them – two intelligent, handsome young men with opportunity spilling from them – made me giddy.
‘Drugs?’ I asked wide-eyed. My heart raced as if I’d already taken them. In the seconds that followed, I thought about the consequences as best I could in my dizzy head. Everyone at university did drugs, didn’t they? For David and Jonathon, taking something to help them relax was probably as common as a cup of tea. Besides, it would only be this once, and David was virtually a doctor anyway.
‘You’re a medical student. I trust you,’ I said. I’d never taken anything before and wouldn’t have even contemplated it if I’d not been so drunk.
I stood at the open door of the hut. I felt sick. I sipped my drink, proud of myself for finally living on the edge. Mary the farm girl had been left behind. I was in a different world with different people and I wanted to get a glimpse of who I really was; who I might have become had I been given the chance. I danced out into the storm and skipped away from the shelter of the surrounding trees. I sucked in the moist night air as the rain fell on my shoulders. I wanted to get thoroughly soaked.
‘You’ll catch a chill.’ I knew straight away that it was David behind me. His voice, his touch, his words, his scent blended together and affected me way more than any drug ever could. We stood and stared out over the lake. I was convinced I could walk across it. He snaked his arms around me from behind. I breathed in sharply but his clutch wouldn’t allow it. ‘You’re wet through already.’
I laughed, gazing up into his young face. He was so beautiful; trying so hard to be everything he knew I wanted. And he was exactly that. A perfect score on my chart, but I couldn’t have him. If I was to hold on to a shred of self-respect, then slipping any deeper into David’s life, his psyche, his bed would only highlight the unbearable magnitude of what I could never be.
‘I don’t care. You’re going to be a doctor. You can make me better if I catch a chill.’ A battle raged inside my mind and body. The overhead thunder and lightning drove our shoulders to our ears. We screamed out with laughter and fear. David bent his face down and kissed me.
My lips curled but then opened like blossom just as he retracted.
‘Never again,’ he said when it was over. I mistakenly took this to be an apology, even though I didn’t believe him. ‘I won’t do that ever again.’ We both knew he would.
It was the most beautiful kiss I had ever had.
‘No, you won’t,’ I echoed. My voice faltered at such tragedy while my body prickled with desire. He pulled me on to his lips again, this time driving deeper. I mouthed my protest from beneath his passion. It had to stop.
When we separated, we were at arm’s length. Lifetimes apart. ‘I’ve taken one already,’ David said quietly, holding out an envelope. ‘Have one. It’ll help you relax.’
David shook the envelope so that all the little pills inside it danced. ‘What are they?’ I asked, not that it really mattered. I wasn’t about to swallow one because of what it would do to me. No, I wanted to take one to be more like David; to make up for rejecting him, for never being able to have him.
‘Ludes, sweetie. To make you feel even sweeter.’ David laughed.
I peeked inside the envelope. ‘Eeny, meeny, miny mo . . .’ It was exciting. The champagne made me not care. Everyone took drugs, didn’t they? Just because I’d missed the education train didn’t mean I had to be a social dropout. ‘This one looks nice.’ I grinned and plucked out a pill. I held it up as if it was medicine to make the rest of my life better. Carefully, I placed it on the tip of my tongue, and before I could change my mind, I washed it down with the remainder of my champagne. ‘Ludes,’ I said, mulling the name. ‘It sounds like a game.’
‘Oh, it is,’ David confirmed with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Methaqualone. One of the best drugs out there.’
For what seemed like lifetimes strung together, we stared at each other. I felt the pill dissolving in my stomach and then a crazy mix of champ
agne and drugs bleeding through my veins. Gradually, before my eyes, David turned into someone I didn’t recognise. As for how I felt about myself, I was already transforming into the stranger that I would become for the rest of my life.
‘Come on.’ David suddenly broke the silence, realising just how wet we were getting. ‘Jonathon will wonder what’s happened to us, and we’ll catch our death.’
‘I think I already have,’ I said in a voice that clearly wasn’t mine.
Back inside the hut, David lay down on the floor, grinning, his heavy brows sinking over his eyes, his head crushing his shoulders at the open neck of his shirt. I don’t think I’d ever seen him look so alluring. He fished a silver hip flask from his jacket pocket.
‘Is that a good idea?’ Jonathon asked. I hadn’t seen him take a lude.
‘Effects of this sedative drug include euphoria, reduced heart rate, slurred speech, amnesia, impaired perception and confusion. Prepare for a crazy time.’ David ignored Jonathon, sounding as if he were reciting from a medical textbook. He tipped the flask to his mouth and then passed it to me. It was heavy. It was full. I took my share and then some more.
Later, when the rain still drummed on the roof and the rotten wood of the hut vibrated from the thunder, we sang. David and I took turns to belt out every anthem we could remember, only with hindsight, we were barely opening our mouths or making a noise. Jonathon was cautious and sat next to me on the dusty sofa, keeping watch while we continued with our nonsense words and a made-up key. The storm kept time to our music while Jonathon grew bored.
I was grinning – the stretch of my mouth almost hurting my face – as I used all my strength to stare between the two men. All was good. The world was good, and being in the hut in the rain with the two most intriguing characters in the world held me as tightly together as any degree course at Cambridge could have done.
I locked eyes with David in a passionate stare. Both our mouths were still burning from the kiss. Jonathon didn’t know what was going on. The thoughts that zapped between us were private and incomprehensible to an outsider. There was an unspoken pact between us; such a delightful agreement that we could hardly stand it in our euphoric state.
David had been right. I felt sweet. The pill had made me feel so sweet that I slipped off my shoes and stood up. ‘Who will dance with me?’ I closed my eyes, wondering if David would take the bait. I waited for an age, and it wasn’t until later, when I opened my eyes again, that I realised Jonathon had left.
JULIA
It’s morning break time, and instead of marking homework, I’m making lists. The first list is of all the good things I’m sure of about David. I stop and smile. I half expect the list to go on for ever. Firstly, he likes me, really likes me, and perhaps one day soon he will love me. I could love him. I stop and chew the end of my pencil. I do love him, I confess.
He seems to adore the kids, especially Flora, and he genuinely cares for Mum. Only a man truly committed to me and my family would arrange private medical care for a sick relative. Next, he is a doctor. That’s a good solid profession, and at his age he’s proved his commitment to his career, unlike . . . My thoughts trail off. Comparisons still hurt.
‘I like the way he looks,’ I say to break my last thought. I find him incredibly attractive, I admit. ‘And he takes good care of himself. We have great conversations. He irons out my insecurities. He is confident . . . interested in me as a woman . . . he can cook. Good sense of humour . . .’ I’m scribbling notes fast. Finally I put a row of dots at the end and scribble ‘et al.’.
Then, taking a deep breath, I tear off a separate piece of paper. I am going to make a list of all the things that are not so easy to understand about David. I can’t use the word bad or negative. These are mostly things that I have learnt from Murray, so how much weight I place on them hangs largely on my judgement of Murray’s motives. I must remember that to him, David is the enemy.
Number one, David is being held in custody. Secondly, he has been charged with a serious assault. I swallow. This isn’t easy. Poor David has been the victim of unwelcome attention from misguided schoolgirls, including Grace. There appears to be a mix-up on my mother’s medical file, but that’s nothing to do with David. There is also uncertainty about who is actually paying Mum’s medical bill, but I believe it’s David. That’s what he told me and I have no reason to think otherwise. I consider putting this on the positive list but decide against it. I don’t want to be accused of weighting the argument.
I put down my pencil and hold the negatives in my left hand and the positives in my right. ‘Oh, David.’ I sigh. He seems a million miles away, stuck in prison. I read through both lists again. The one in my left hand weighs heavy on my heart and drags down my fingers.
As I read through the other, my spirit lightens and a smile creeps across my lips. ‘Of course,’ I say, feeling a thousand times better. ‘I forgot to write down the most important thing.’ I chew the pencil again. Putting this into words will be hard. Then, as I hear the first trill of my mobile phone in my bag, I jot down on the positive list: Feels like I’ve known him for ever.
‘Hello?’ I scrabble my phone from my bag just as the bell for lessons sounds. ‘I can’t hear you. You’ll have to speak up.’ It’s Murray, but reception is poor. I dash to the window for a better signal. Once, I used to covet his calls because we loved each other. ‘Can you hear me?’ Murray sounds like twanging piano wire and so I dash out through the staff-room door and stalk the playground until his voice rings true in my ear. ‘Thank God,’ I say. ‘Thank God.’
A minute later, I’m in the staff room packing up all the files I’m supposed to be marking. On the table, I see my two lists. I scrunch up the negative one and toss it into the bin. Along with all my doubts.
‘Murray,’ I squeal. I want to hug him, leap in the air, muss his hair like I might do to Alex, kiss him, dance. For now, I simply manage a very sincere ‘Thank you.’
‘Really, Julia, I didn’t do very much.’
I remember Murray as he once was – in control, assured, motivated – and at a push, I could even believe he is that exact same person now, sitting behind his office desk in his suit. ‘I don’t care a jot how it happened. I’m still going to believe it was all down to you. I need to thank someone.’ I’m so happy.
Murray watches the inane grin that overcomes me, transcending all the trouble between us. ‘When can we expect him out?’ The words flutter around like party streamers decorating his dull office. ‘You should get Alex and Flora to do some paintings for the walls in here. How’s it all going with you, anyway? And work? Any more juicy cases? Is Sheila still badgering you? How’s your girlfriend?’ I know I’m babbling but I can’t help myself.
Murray raises his hands. ‘Slow it down, girl. There’s a long way to go before David can sleep soundly.’ The way he dips his eyes, I know he’s thinking of David and me slotted alongside each other in bed. ‘I need to know the conditions of bail and if all the charges are being dropped. I have a meeting tomorrow, so let’s get that out of the way before you get too excited. You can’t rush these things.’ Murray sounds vague, as if he’s not telling me everything. He leans forward, and if I hadn’t pulled my hands off the desk, I reckon he’d have taken hold of them. He clears his throat. ‘And Rose is fine, thank you. I will introduce her to the kids soon.’
Again, he doesn’t sound genuine; as if Rose – I’m assuming she’s the girl I saw on the boat – is make-believe.
‘As long as it’s serious, you know, between you and . . . Rose.’ I say her name with bitterness although I still can’t help thinking of pink petals. ‘I don’t want the kids getting fond of someone only for you to dump her a minute later.’
‘Oh, that’s great coming from you!’ I duck as he slings harsh words. ‘You’ve mentally married Carlyle, virtually committed to him for life, and then he goes and ends up in prison – perhaps for the rest of his life. What has your haphazard devotion done to Alex and Flora?’
‘They’re fine about it,’ I say calmly. ‘They really like David.’ He’s there for them, sober, I want to say but don’t. ‘As for the arrest, I’ve already explained to them that the police probably made a mistake. Now, when I tell them he’s being let off, they’ll see I was right. It’s all about trust, Murray.’ This is where we have always differed. I see reality. He believes in fairies.
‘Probably, you see, Julia. What if probably comes true? What, indeed, if the police have made a mistake . . . are making a mistake? What if they are releasing a violent criminal?’
As well as seeing the shudder in Murray’s shoulders, I feel it through the air. He’s always been dramatic. ‘David said to have faith in the legal system. And look, he was right.’ I won’t allow Murray this last-ditch attempt at slating David. Or is it a valiant attempt at saving us?
‘Think about what we truly know about him, Julia. The facts. Just consider them.’
‘I would if I had hard evidence, but all I have is secondhand gossip.’ I stand up. I’ve had enough of this. ‘Chrissie said, Nadine said, you said, psychiatric hospital this, missing files that. Why you think David is linked in some sinister way to my mother is beyond me. He’s trying to help her, can’t you see? You’re living in a kids’ adventure book, Murray.’
After a long pause, as if he’s really considering something, mentally weighing up whether he should tell me or not, Murray finally hits me as hard as he can. He speaks slowly, calmly, which in itself frightens me. ‘Julia, now David is being released, however temporary that may or may not be, there’s something else I want you to know.’ I shift from one foot to the other. I’ll be late fetching the kids if he doesn’t hurry up. He continues. ‘If this goes to court, it’ll come out anyway.’
