by Ally Sky
“Talia, have you met Jenny yet?” Danny turns to me.
I have no interest in meeting her. I know everything I need to know.
“Not really,” I reply indifferently.
“She came back from India not so long ago. How was it there, Jenny?” Danny gives her a broad smile. He likes her. Danny likes this Jenny.
“An eye-opening experience,” she smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. She smiles at Ben and he gives a slight smile back. My heart clenches in my chest. He’s an asshole, remember?
“So, Talia, I’ve heard you also joined the company.” She turns to me, catching me by surprise. Her blue eyes are watchful.
“Not anymore,” I answer coldly and play with my glass of wine.
“Oh, I was sure…” She’s taken aback by my cold response and looks at me with startled eyes.
“I quit. It didn’t suit me anymore.” My answer is hostile. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ben squirming uncomfortably in his chair.
“Talia did an excellent job, and we’re all hoping that she’ll change her mind, before it’s too late.” I hear Ben’s voice, emphasizing the last few words. Before it’s too late. I turn to look at him. My eyes stare into endless green fields. The battle has begun.
“I don’t think so. All that wandering around the city in high heels every day, I might sprain my ankle. Who knows what lawsuit I could come up with?” I say defiantly. He looks stunned. He was my boss and, if I wanted to, I could sue him for something that has nothing to do with my high heels. And he knows it. I take another sip of my wine, looking at everyone eating. I’m the only one sitting in front an empty plate, one that Danny insisted on bringing me. No one says a thing. They’re used to seeing my empty plate. Only Jenny looks baffled.
“You aren’t eating?” She tries smiling cautiously. After my previous response, she doesn’t know what to expect. She has no idea that such a simple question can provide me with so much ammunition.
“No, I have an eating disorder.” I glare at her and Ben chokes on his food with a loud cough.
“Jesus, Talia,” Danny mumbles and rolls his eyes.
“I apologize, I had no idea,” Jenny whispers in embarrassment, and her white cheeks redden. Ben gives me a furious look.
“Apology accepted.” I shrug and take another sip. The wine is terrible and wonderful, freeing me of all my inhibitions. The meal continues in silence. I sit there, arms crossed, and let the wine do its thing. I look furtively at Jenny, trying to figure her out. She sticks her fork into her food and takes small, gentle bites. I can’t even do that simple thing. Is it a wonder he doesn’t want me? I suppress all the feelings that want to burst through. I have to do something.
“Everyone is in such a serious mood tonight,” I remark suddenly, and get up from the table and walk over to turn on the stereo. I fast-forward a few songs until Alanis Morissette’s “Uninvited” is playing.
The last time I heard this song, I burst into tears in Ben’s car after he had made me eat in front of him and embarrassed me at the restaurant. I’m sure he remembers it. I go back to the table and Ben looks at me angrily again, wondering what game I’m playing.
You played the game for two months. Now, it’s my turn.
“I love this song.” Jenny takes a sip of her wine, holding the glass with slim fingers, which, every night in bed, caress my man, doing what I should be doing.
“I don’t. It reminds me of all the asshole men I’ve known,” I shoot back without hesitation. This wine makes me speak without thinking.
“You’re in a terrible mood this evening,” Danny says with his eyes narrowing.
“You think?” I look at him spitefully.
“Jenny, please excuse Talia, she’s going through a rough period.” Danny smiles slightly at Snow White. She smiles at him with relief.
Does she feel sorry for me? I don’t want her pity!
“Yes, I recently broke up with someone.” I take another sip of wine and finish the glass. “But never mind, it’s probably for the best.” I stare at Ben and smile insincerely.
“Maybe it’ll change,” she grins. “Look at us.”
Yes, look at you, smiling and pleased with life. And you don’t care who you crush on the way.
“Really, what happened that you two got back together?” I take advantage of the opening she’s provided.
“I realized I made a mistake and begged for forgiveness.” She laughs and smiles at Ben. He forces back a smile.
“Begging is so unattractive,” I say quietly.
“What did you say?” She’s still smiling.
“I said that begging is so unattractive,” I repeat loudly. Alanis is singing in the background and it feels like my insides are being torn apart.
“A girl does what she has to do in order to get her man.” She smiles at him again. What’s with all these fucking smiles? I’m dying to wipe that smile off her face.
“That’s what I thought. You wouldn’t believe the artful schemes I devised to get my man.” I smile maliciously at Ben. His green eyes are wary and unhappy. He’s probably wondering how far I’m willing to go.
“Really?” She laughs in such an irritating way. The girl is completely blind to what’s happening here.
“Yes, I once even pleasured him behind his desk at work.” I stare at her as she goes pale and her eyes open wide in astonishment.
She wasn’t expecting that. The wonderful Snow White. I know what you did. You’re not as innocent as you look.
“Talia, that’s enough!” Ben berates me furiously. I slowly turn to look at him, fixing him with a vicious glare.
All this alcohol…he’s freaking out. He’s helpless and he can’t do a thing.
“Strange that you should say that.” I cock my head and smile slightly.
“Talia, I’m warning you.” He’s trying everything to shut me up.
Enough!
I’ve had enough of being silent. I’m sick and tired of crying and I’m sick and tired of missing him all the time. I just don’t want to hurt anymore. And I don’t plan on being silent anymore. I’ve been silent for two months, and look how far it got me.
“You are warning me?” I retort, spite and pain cutting my voice. “That’s new. Because for the past two months it’s sounded more like, ‘Talia, your body is amazing; Talia, I just want to hear you; Talia, I want to be inside you’.” My explicit outburst shocks everyone around me, and the room falls silent. Only Alanis in the background breaks through the silence with her guitar.
Ben is decidedly pale. That’s it. I’ve said it. Now choke on that!
“Talia, what the hell are you talking about?” Danny hisses nervously and looks at me furiously. I stand my ground, openly staring at Ben, feeling miserable.
“I’m talking about your friend who’s been fucking me for two months, minus one week!”
“Are you out of your fucking mind? What about Tom?” Danny is totally dumbfounded.
“Please,” I point theatrically at an ashen-faced Ben, who is seated next to a stunned Snow White. “Meet Tom.”
They can’t understand how their supper has turned into this tornado.
“Ben, what the hell is she talking about?” Danny gets up, his chair nearly falling.
“Danny…” Ben tries mumbling something, while Danny looks at him in shock. How can he explain himself? They stare at each other with fiery eyes.
“What? I can’t believe you!” Danny shouts, “She’s my little sister! And you,” he turns to me, appalled, “I don’t know who you are anymore!” He shoves his chair back and strides from the kitchen.
“I think dinner is over,” Ben grunts at me, and stands up.
“You think?” I shout furiously.
“You are totally fucked up,” he whispers. Jenny gets up from her chair, looking dazed.
“I learned from the best!” I yell at him, as he takes her hand and storms out of the house.
I stomp out to the patio, light up a cigarette, and sit down on the s
mall sofa, hugging my knees to my chest. All the pent-up pressure from this damn evening bursts out and I start sobbing uncontrollably.
John sits down on the other sofa, lights up a cigarette, leans back, and closes his eyes.
“I’m sorry about supper,” I mumble through my tears.
“No, you’re not,” he says firmly.
“You’re right. I’m not. He deserved it.”
“Who exactly are you trying to punish?” He opens his eyes and looks at me, exhausted. He isn’t angry; he just looks disappointed.
“No one.” I sob, hiding my face with my hands.
“Talia, what were you thinking?” He sighs.
“I wasn’t. It just happened. I never expected what happened afterwards.”
“Two months? With Ben? How do you think Danny feels?”
“I wanted to tell him. Ben was the one against it.”
“Is it’s more rational to sneak around and lie?” He looks at me in a way I cannot fathom.
“You’re angry.” I try to control my tears.
“I’m not angry. I’m disappointed—with both of you.” He stubs out his cigarette. “And now I need to go to the bedroom to do damage control.” He sighs loudly.
“I’m sorry,” I sob quietly.
“I know, Talia. It’s just a little too late for that.” He gives me one last look of frustration and goes inside, leaving me trembling on the patio. What have I done?
I’ve caused them nothing but heartache. From the moment I arrived, I’ve let everyone down. Danny found out I’ve been lying to him for two months. John tried to get me to open up to him, but all I did was tell him bullshit stories. And Ben had warned me he was coming with her for supper. He’d been warning me for two months.
And now I have to leave.
Sitting on my bed, I open my laptop. It feels as though I’ve ruined everyone’s life. No one will ever forgive me, not after tonight, not after what I did.
I go into Google, type in “plane tickets” and go into the first site that comes up. I type in the destination, one-way, one passenger, for tomorrow morning. I give my credit card number without a thought. I don’t plan on saying goodbye and I’m running away before anyone can stop me.
I pack my suitcase quickly, crying and sniffling. I stuff in as many clothes as possible and my flat shoes.
My life is in a suitcase again. I put my small handbag over my shoulder and grab my backpack and my laptop. A newspaper is resting on the edge of the shelf. It’s the article from The Mirror. As I pull it off the shelf, Danny’s words burn into me:
I don’t know who you are anymore…
I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to lie or hide.
I take a pen out of my bag, circle the article, and write in the margin:
This is who I am.
I leave the newspaper and the phone from work on the bed. I don’t need it anymore. I’ve decided to sleep at the airport. A cold bench is preferable to this house. I leave the room quietly. I assume Danny and John are still deep in conversation in their bedroom. I drag my suitcase through the living room, order a cab to Heathrow, and wait outside. My plane leaves in the morning, but I’m not staying here. I’m disappearing right away.
Saturday
August 4th 2012
Heathrow, five in the morning… I’m fleeing. Everything has come out. Everything has been exposed and there are no more pretenses and lies. I left rage and disappointment behind me and ran. There are no more secrets. The man who was mine will never want me again. And my brother, who wanted to do everything for me, will never forgive me. I am a traitor and a liar. I’m a mask. Even here, I’m hiding behind Talula, letting her be me.
And now everyone knows everything, and soon they’ll open their eyes in the house that was once mine. They’ll find my empty bed and breathe a sigh of relief. The crazy woman has left. She can’t harm anyone anymore. She has gone away and left behind devastation: broken relationships, shattered trust, and anger. They’ll no longer have to worry whether she wakes up in the morning, whether or not she eats, or goes to work. Life would have returned to normal if not for last night’s meal. A few glasses of wine and all the secrets were out. And now everyone knows who took my body and broke my heart.
I’m a shadow. But it’s time for me to step out into the spotlight, without a mask, without an alias, and with no schemes or plans.
My name is Talia Blum. This is who I am.
I look at what I’ve written. Am I really going to do it, reveal to the world whom I am, who is behind the words, the demons, the sex, and the broken soul?
I choose a photograph of me, standing at the edge of a cliff in the desert, on a trip we took before I left to London.
I add it to the file and press ‘post”’. I’m no longer a shadow. I’m Talia, and now everyone knows.
The trip from El Prat airport to the hotel is short. Thank god I remembered to exchange money at the airport. Staring out of the cab window, at least I know where I’m going.
If you have to run away, Barcelona is the place to go. The flight was short, only two-and-a-half hours. I open up my old mobile phone, knowing I’ll have messages waiting for me. Danny probably went into my room in the morning to give me a piece of his mind and found the newspaper on the empty bed. I have no idea how he reacted.
My phone starts beeping: one message, two, three, four. That’s it.
8:30
I don’t know where you think you’re going, but come home immediately!
Danny is angry with me. I can understand that. I’m angry with me. But I’m not going back. He doesn’t really want me there.
8:45
What the hell are you doing?!
Where are you flying to?
9:30
Call me the moment you land!!
How does he know I flew somewhere?
Fuck, he read my blog. Oh God, I hope he doesn’t plan on reading the whole thing. I warned him some of the descriptions were very specific. What was I thinking?
A little bit of wine and I totally lose control. I’m so pathetic.
The last message is from Ben. Why is he sending me messages? Doesn’t he get that I don’t want to hear from him?
9:39
Everyone here is worried about you.
Call Danny when you land. Talia, come home.
Why does he even care? And who’s asking him? If I had never met him, I wouldn’t be in this situation! I text Danny quickly.
11:34
I’m not coming home.
Go back to your post-tornado-Talia lives.
I change the time on my phone to 12:35, put it back in my bag, and continue looking out the window.
“Hola.” I smile wearily at the receptionist at the Rialto Hotel in the Gothic Quarter.
“Hola,” he replies with a friendly smile, staring at my wild mane of curls.
“A single room,” I request in English, taking my passport out of my bag.
“For how many nights, Señora?” he asks.
For how many nights? Well, I don’t even want to think about anything for at least a week.
“One week,” I reply. I have no idea what I’m going to do here. Running away was the easy part. I just want to throw my suitcase in my room and go out. I want a glass of wine and to write my blog.
“Very well. Seven hundred and twenty-one euros,” he informs me, and I take my credit card out of my purse. I have enough money in my account, I know that. What with the last salary I received plus the apartment in Tel Aviv, I’m okay. He gives me the key to a room on the second floor and then an update on when breakfast is served. I’m familiar with their breakfasts. You can sit there all day. You can feed a village in Africa for an entire month with the food they serve here in their buffet. As if I plan on eating here. I leave him with a faint smile and take the elevator to the second floor, dragging my suitcase behind me.
I received a double room, with a large, wide bed facing the neighboring building. I sit down on the bed, clos
e my eyes, and then it hits me. I’m in Barcelona.
I ran away. I left it all behind me and ran. I hug my legs to my chest, take a deep breath, and try to figure out what has happened since yesterday. Images of angry, green eyes return to me, John’s look of disappointment, the newspaper I left, my last blog. Panic takes hold of me suddenly. I’m no longer a secret. I’m recognized and exposed. My life is spread out all over the Internet, including every intimate detail, and I’ve exposed my man’s life as well. He’s not going to like it, not at all. I wonder if Danny is going to tell him, or if he’ll find out himself.
I have to get some air. I want to inhale the city. The Plaza Reial is waiting for me around the corner. I take my purse and my laptop and leave the room.
The alley leading from the hotel to the Plaza is packed with people. I walk slowly, feeling weak. I don’t know when I last ate anything. I venture into the small alleys between the buildings and there I see the Plaza, with its fountain in the center and the metal tables and chairs scattered around.
I find a place in a small café, which I remember fondly from my last visit. I order a glass of local, red wine. I’m in Barcelona, alone. There’s no one here to watch out for me. It’s just me and my broken heart. I open my laptop. There’s no Wi-Fi here. Never mind, I can write in a Word document and then copy-paste.
August 4th 2012
My Barcelona
I’ve returned to you, an escape and shelter from the storm. I run to your comforting embrace, the antique alleys, the cafes, and the endless clamor from morning till night. You give me time and a place to think, far from the chaos that I left behind, far from the angry faces. I am no longer Talula; I am who I am.
