Rich and Mad

by William Nicholson

  A faint ping alerted her to a new email. She leapt out of bed. Joe had replied.

  Do me a favor, Maddy. Go on the same as ever at school. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Love to Cyril. Joe.

  11

  Love is a decision

  Maddy dressed the next morning with extra care, but the truth was that whatever she did with the range of clothing permitted under the school’s uniform rules, she looked drab. How was it that Grace could wear a dark gray skirt and plain white shirt and manage to look glamorous? It was something to do with her slim, boyish figure, and something to do with her attitude. Grace dressed as if she expected clothes to flatter her, and they did. In school uniform she looked like a model going to a party dressed as a school girl. Maddy just looked like a school girl.

  There was nothing to be done about it. Whatever had caught Joe Finnigan’s attention in her so far must have overcome the dead weight of her uniform.

  It must be my merry eyes, thought Maddy.

  Her father had once said on coming back from a buying trip abroad, “Oh, I’ve missed those merry eyes.” That was many years ago. The merriness might have faded since then.

  Actually, she thought, if anyone’s got merry eyes it’s Joe. She longed to see him even though they were to go on the same as ever, if only to catch that laughing look when they met. But it turned out that Joe was not in school that day. He was away for a college open day. Tomorrow was Saturday. She wouldn’t see him till Monday. The one boy she saw everywhere she went was Rich Ross.

  She had been avoiding Rich. She knew he wanted to talk to her about Grace. She didn’t feel able to lie to him and give him false hope, but she liked him, and dreaded hurting him.

  “He’s in fairyland,” said Cath. “He has to wake up.”

  “I know,” said Maddy. “But why does it have to be me?”

  After lunch there was Rich once more, hovering by the dining hall exit. He wasn’t staring at her in any obvious way, but she knew he was waiting for her.

  Best to get it over with.

  They walked together down the beech path.

  “So I talked to Grace,” she said.

  He had his eyes fixed on hers with a pitiful intensity.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing very direct. I thought you didn’t want me to come on too strong.”

  “No, no.”

  Now that the moment had come, Maddy found herself unable to tell the hard truth.

  “She didn’t really react,” she said. “I don’t think she’s ever thought much about you one way or the other, to be honest.”

  “No, I’m sure she hasn’t.”

  “Grace is quite …”

  Maddy hesitated, aware that Rich saw Grace in a different light. No need to shatter all his illusions.

  “A bit of a loner, maybe?” he said.

  “Yes. I suppose she is.”

  It hadn’t struck Maddy before that Grace could be called a loner.

  “I think something’s hurt her,” said Rich.

  Maddy thought nothing of the sort, but she understood Rich’s thinking. He wanted Grace to be a wounded creature, so that he could be the one who brought her comfort and healing. She’d played the same game herself.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “I know she’s not remotely interested in me,” Rich went on. “I expect I’m just a joke to her.”

  “Well …,” said Maddy.

  “It’s okay. She doesn’t know anything about me. She’s never even spoken to me. But whoever she thinks I am, that’s not who I am. I just have to get to the next stage.”

  Maddy was surprised. Rich wasn’t fooling himself after all. Also, he was showing impressive determination.

  “Can you do that without any encouragement?”

  “I have to, don’t I?”

  “You could just give up.”

  “I could. But I’m not going to.”

  He pulled a book out of his bag and flipped its pages. Maddy saw that it was the old yellow paperback called The Art of Loving. Many passages were marked in the margin with pencil.

  “Listen to this.” Rich read from the book: “ ‘To love somebody is not just a strong feeling—it is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise. If love were only a feeling, there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever. A feeling comes and it may go. How can I judge that it will stay forever, when my act does not involve judgment and decision?’ ”

  “Wow!”

  “Exactly. Wow. Love is a decision.”

  “And you’ve made this decision?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you really believe it? I mean, can you just decide to love someone? What if they don’t love you back?”

  “Okay. Listen.” Rich was flipping more pages. He read aloud again. ‘Love is a power which produces love.’

  “Who is this guy?”

  “He’s called Erich Fromm. He’s a psychologist. Mr. Pico gave it to me to read.”

  “Why?”

  “We were talking about things he wished he’d known when he was my age.”

  Maddy took the slender paperback from him and opened it to the first page. There was a quotation from Paracelsus facing the table of contents.

  “Who’s Paracelsus?”

  “No idea.”

  “He who knows nothing,” she read, “loves nothing …”

  Not a sex manual after all.

  “When you’ve finished with it, do you think I could borrow it?”

  “Take it. I’ve copied the best bits into my diary. Just don’t lose it. I have to give it back to Mr. Pico.”

  “Your diary that no one reads.”

  “I thought about that after we talked before. I think the point is I do read it, but only as I’m writing it. It’s my way of finding out what I’m really thinking.”

  “Don’t you know anyway?”

  “Well, I think I tell myself a lot of stories. Somehow when you start writing it down you get more honest.”

  “Isn’t that kind of depressing?”

  “Yes. It is a bit.”

  “I couldn’t do that.”

  “So, anyway. You haven’t actually told me what Grace said.”

  Maddy simply couldn’t make herself pass on Grace’s true level of contempt.

  “She said you weren’t her type.”

  “What is her type?”

  “I’ve no idea. Grace is very secretive.”

  “She’s lost,” said Rich.

  He fell silent, following his own thoughts.

  “This decision you’ve made,” said Maddy. “I suppose if it doesn’t work out you can always cancel it and make another decision.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He looked away. “The thing is, I think about her all the time.”

  Maddy felt a stab of pity. He was going to get so hurt.

  Then it struck her that she was in much the same position with Joe. She hardly knew him, but she could truthfully say she thought about him all the time. The big difference was that Joe was sending her emails.

  “I know how it is,” she said.

  “You’ve got someone too?”

  “Sort of.”

  “I’m glad.” He gave her such a sweet, warm smile that she was touched. He meant it. He wanted her to be happy too. “It’s the only way to live, isn’t it?”

  They turned back.

  “So what will you do now?” said Maddy.

  “Talk to her.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Not really. But it’s the next thing. I have to do it.”

  Like a soldier going into battle. Death or victory.

  Rich found Grace almost at once. Maddy watched from a distance, thinking that when the point came he’d lose his nerve. Grace was alone, moving fast, head down, making for the playing fields. Rich started to follow her, then hesitated, then went on. Maddy found she couldn’t bear to look anymore. She went in search of Cath.

  “It’s horrible,”
she said. “Rich is about to have his bubble burst.”

  Just before the playing fields began there was a large timber hut, used for storing the groundsman’s tractor-mower. Grace headed straight for it and disappeared round the back.

  Rich, following her, approached more slowly, and then came to a stop. He thought maybe she had gone there to smoke or take drugs, and he didn’t want to be the one to discover her. That would only annoy her. He had just decided to walk quietly back to the main buildings when he heard a sound from behind the shed. It was the sound of choking.

  He hurried forward, thinking Grace must be ill. As he came round the corner of the shed he saw her, standing with her hands on her knees, bent over a pile of grass cuttings, throwing up. She choked out the last of the sick, then straightened up and wiped her mouth with a tissue.

  She turned and saw Rich.

  “Have you been following me?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Serves you right, then.”

  She didn’t seem angry with him; just tired.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  “What does it look like?”

  Rich wanted to ask why she hadn’t gone to the toilet block to be sick. Why come all the way to the playing fields? He wanted to say to her, “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Tell me about it.” But he said nothing.

  “Do me a favor, Rich. Don’t tell anyone. It’s a bit gross.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Not even Maddy Fisher.”

  “Okay.”

  He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the words to say that he understood what she was going through, even though he didn’t.

  “That’s it,” said Grace. “I’m fine now.”

  She wanted to be left alone.

  “Okay,” said Rich.

  He left her alone.

  That night Rich wrote in his diary:

  No one else knows what I know about her, even though I don’t know what it is I know. Only that she isn’t the way everyone thinks she is. And now she knows I know. It’s like I’ve found my way into her secret place. Now it’s just a matter of time. She’ll tell me more, she’ll learn she can rely on me. All I ask is the chance to show her how I can love her. Love is a power which produces love. I believe it. I’m living it.

  12

  Looking forward to everything else

  Maddy caught Joe Finnigan’s eye as he entered the dance studio for the play rehearsal. It was four days since she had last seen him and only a few hours less since they had been in contact by email, but it felt to her like the blink of an eye.

  He gave her a wave of one hand, little more than the opening and closing of his fingers. She was careful to say and do nothing to give them away. But all through the rehearsal she felt as if she was tied to Joe by fine invisible threads. His every smallest movement tugged at her.

  The rehearsal moved far more rapidly than before, and they got well into Act Two. At this stage in the play the Bliss family and their guests attempt a game called In the Manner of the Word. Maddy played her few lines with many a coy glance at Joe, in order to make sense of what happens later in the play.

  “Simon’s the one who takes me out into the garden,” she explained to Mr. Pico. “So there has to be something happening between them.”

  Joe was very amused, and played up to her fluttery little looks as if he was progressively smitten. When the others try to make Jackie perform a dance “in the manner of the word” and Jackie is too shy to do it, Joe took Maddy by one arm and patted her hand. For one brief moment Maddy met his eyes and let him see the happiness that was overflowing within her.

  When the rehearsal was over Joe said to Maddy, “You’re really good, you know.”

  “I wonder why,” said Maddy.

  But there was Gemma, pale and lovely and mute, so Maddy gave Joe an airy wave and went off with Grace.

  “What got into you?” said Grace as soon as they were outside. “You were all over Joe.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I thought I was very restrained.”

  “No, Maddy. Wrong. That was not restrained. That was come-and-get-me-lover-boy.”

  “You’re the one who told me to give it a go.”

  “Yes, I know.” Grace was studying her curiously. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”

  “Might have.”

  The truth was, Maddy was bursting to tell someone, and since it was Grace who had first encouraged her to have hopes of Joe, it seemed unfair to leave her in the dark.

  “It’s a total secret, okay?”

  “Of course it’s a total secret. What do you take me for?”

  “Joe’s been emailing me.”

  “What!”

  “I’m not to let on at school, because of Gemma.”

  “What does he say in his emails?”

  “Just jokey stuff so far.”

  “What sort of jokes?”

  “Oh, about Cyril the camel who lives outside our shop. It’s all about nothing, really. But the thing is, it’s a secret, and he started it. So you see, you were right.”

  “Well, well. Well done, Maddy. A secret romance.” Grace went on looking at her intently, as if there was more to know that Maddy wasn’t telling. “So why exactly does it have to be a secret?”

  “Because he doesn’t want to hurt Gemma.”

  “You mean he doesn’t want to lose Gemma.”

  “No. He’s just being sensitive.”

  “Maddy, being sensitive would be finishing with Gemma before starting with you.”

  “Well, he hasn’t started with me. Not really. All it is is a couple of friendly emails.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to finish with Gemma.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe he wants Gemma for the sex and you for the jokes.”

  “That’s horrible, Grace! Joe’s not like that.”

  “He might be.”

  “Well, I don’t believe it.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Grace. “But my advice is, don’t get in too deep until you know what’s really going on. Boys aren’t like us. Take it from me.”

  Having let Grace into the secret, Maddy knew she must tell Cath too. Cath’s response was far more gratifying.

  “Mad! Omigod! That is so fucking romantic! You must be wetting yourself! Omigod! I told you so. Didn’t I tell you? Admit I told you. I have to get something out of this. You get to be love’s young dream. I’ll settle for being right.”

  “Yes. You were right.”

  “Secret emails! It’s like a movie. You’ll have to have secret meetings in lonely churchyards. So how much do you like him out of ten?”

  “We haven’t even started yet.”

  “So what? Give me a score.”

  “Six.”

  “Liar. That’s just bullshit.”

  “Maybe seven.”

  “Look me in the eyes.”

  “Okay. Nine.”

  “There you go.”

  “Grace thinks he’s not serious and I shouldn’t get too excited.”

  “Ha! Jealous!”

  “I did wonder.”

  “She’s always been the one the boys want. She can’t take it that Joe’s after you and not her.”

  “Except she did encourage me to start with.”

  “She never thought Joe would bite.”

  “You don’t think it’s possible Joe wants me for company and Gemma for sex?”

  “No. I don’t. And anyway, all he has to do is have a go at sex with you. I bet a million pounds you’d be more fun in bed than Gemma Page.”

  Maddy laughed out loud. Cath couldn’t have said a nicer thing.

  “We’re nowhere near that,” she said.

  “Even so, you’d better get yourself fixed up.”

  “Oh, God. Do you think so?”

  “Suppose Joe came round one evening and you started fooling around, can you absolutely guarantee you wouldn’t let him go all the way?”

  “Yes. No. Oh, Go
d, I don’t know.”

  “You can’t leave it to him. Boys never even think about it for one moment.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Where do you think all the teen pregnancies come from?”

  “Are you fixed up?”

  “Give me a break, Maddy. This is my contraception.” She pointed to her face.

  “Oh, shut up, Cath. As if. I do love you though.”

  There was another email from Joe waiting for Maddy at home.

  I shouldn’t have looked at you so much. Gemma got suspicious. I hate that it all has to be a secret. I’ll sort things out very soon, I promise. Then we’ll be able to meet properly. And everything else.

  Maddy read the email over and over again. She wanted to phone Grace and say: “I told you so.” But she was afraid Grace would find some new way to cast doubts on her happiness; and anyway, it was too early to share with others. She wanted to keep it for herself for a while.

  It was the last three words that intoxicated her: three words that managed to say nothing and everything all at once; three words that were both discreet and passionate. Maddy lay on her bed recalling Joe’s every move as they had rehearsed that afternoon: the way his quirky, smiling face had sought her out; the way he had spoken to her without words. She had felt his presence reaching into every corner of the long room. He made her tremble.

  She replied to his email.

  Today was fun. It’s like we’re playing a game where we’re the only ones who know the rules. Which is what happens in the play, if you think about it. So we’re playing a game while playing a game. Pablo would like that. Even so, I’m looking forward to everything else …

  Her fingers were shaking as she typed the words. They seemed to her to be an unambiguous declaration of love, as transparent as if she had written: I’m yours, do what you want with me. But he had offered the words first, so she felt safe.

  She heard the door slam downstairs, and Imo’s bright, high voice. Maddy jumped up at once, eager to see Imo again. There were matters on which she needed her advice.

  “You should have seen the beach!” Imo was saying to their mother as Maddy came rattling down the stairs.