The Book of Eve

by Julia Blake

  Large, strong and unpredictable, rumour had it he carried a knife. Although, no one ever claimed to have definitely seen it, the mad glint in his eyes and the company he kept, left no doubt in anyone’s mind it was probably true. When we all left school, he’d dropped off my radar and, apart from the odd sighting of him sloping around town, I’d not seen him for over a year.

  So, when Mike told me he’d accepted a job working for Wayne, I’d stared at him with dismay and fear. ‘What kind of job?’ I’d demanded and he’d shrugged, a furtive gleam appearing in his eyes. ‘None of your business,’ he’d replied, moments later slamming out of the flat, off to do a bit of ‘business’ with his new boss.

  I’d watched and worried. Knowing only too well the kind of business Wayne would be running, I’d feared what Mike was letting himself be dragged into. Worrying even more when he came home later that evening and thrust a hundred pounds into my unwilling hands.

  ‘There you go, Mel,’ he’d declared, pride shining on his face. ‘Payback for the times you’ve bailed me out. It’s for you to spend on whatever you like, and there’ll be more, you’ll see.’

  With a sinking heart I’d stared at the notes clutched in my hand, knowing I should give it back, should refuse to take it, and yet... and yet, I so desperately needed money. In the end, I’d blown most of it on a facial and a trip to the hairdressers for a decent cut and deep condition, the rest being spent on a ton of fresh fruit, salad and vegetables.

  The situation at work continued to deteriorate. Every morning I awoke, dreading the day, literally forcing myself to make the too short ten minute walk from the flat to the newspaper office. When I was there, I found myself shrinking inwards, away from the others, their small, narrow minds and obsession with everyone else’s lives. I watched, disinterested, refusing to participate in their routine character assassinations every morning over coffee, knowing full well when I left the room, I was the subject of intense gossip and speculation.

  The days drifted past and I drifted with them, feeling only half-awake most of the time, aware I’d reached some sort of monumental crossroads in my life, but unsure what to do next or which way to go. Instead, I absolved myself from everyday life, finding even the smallest, most inconsequential decisions beyond my capabilities.

  Mike was out most evenings now, so I spent my life curled up on the sagging sofa which smelt of takeaways past and present, staring at the new widescreen TV that had mysteriously appeared one day. I watched without seeing, an endless round of soaps and reality shows, none of them as real as the life being played out constantly in my head, where scenarios and entire scenes paraded behind my eyes, with myself at the centre of them, myself and them.

  Crazy as it seemed, I knew I was missing Annaliese and Scott and their friends, even though I’d never met them, didn’t even know their names. Most of all, I missed being Eve. For just a few precious moments I’d been someone else, not Melissa, the quiet boring girl who was shacked up with Mike, no, I’d been Eve and I’d liked being her, had liked the fact that as Eve I could be anyone I chose, could reinvent myself in any image.

  My day at the Hall had opened my eyes to what life could be like, not so much from the money point of view, although, of course, it would be so nice not to have to worry about it all the time. No, the quiet envy coursing through my heart and brain was of Annaliese herself, of her sunny, almost too perfect outlook on life, her kindness and generosity. Had it been charity? The disembodied voices had claimed it was and at the time, over-sensitive and prideful, I’d been only too ready to accept it as such. Yet, when I’d been in their company, Annaliese’s and Scott’s, I hadn’t felt as if I was being condescended to, nor had there been any patronage in their manner or attitude, it had felt more like they were genuinely concerned, worried about me, and I had basked in the warmth of their attentions.

  But most of all, I envied Annaliese her friends, the hundred or so who’d attended the party and the six, that charmed inner circle, whom I’d known instinctively were her special companions, her confidantes. I’d seen the easy affection which existed between them, the way they’d all fitted together so neatly and so perfectly, and I’d wished for such friends.

  I didn’t have any friends, not really. Oh, there were friends from school I still occasionally went out with, but they didn’t approve of Mike. I could sense in their attitude, by what wasn’t said, they all felt I should have left him far behind when I’d left school. That by insisting on staying with him, I’d somehow lowered myself to his level. There was Ally, but she was so busy with all her various jobs I hardly ever saw her. Since the day at the Hall, hadn’t heard from her at all. I suspected she was more than a little annoyed, jealous in a few short hours I’d achieved a degree of acquaintance with Annaliese she’d failed to reach in two years of working for her. No, I had no friends, not real, pour your heart and soul out, trust them forever type friends, and a quiet envious longing consumed me.

  My mood was not improved by the fact the weather, so balmy and perfect for Annaliese’s birthday party, had turned damp and miserable. Days of non-stop torrential downpours mirrored the bone deep lethargy that gripped me, which I could not seem to shake off.

  After two weeks of lonely evenings at home and even lonelier days at work, I was depressed and irritable, ready to snap at the slightest thing. My mood not improved when Wayne and Mike turned up one evening after dark, complete with a van load of sealed boxes which they proceeded to stack in the corner of the miniscule lounge.

  Holding my tongue whilst Wayne was there, something about the maniacal glint in his eye and the way his gaze travelled over my body, his mouth wet and slack, made the words of protest freeze in my throat, I’d saved my terrified concern until he’d left, after pushing an envelope bulging with notes into Mike’s greedy hands.

  The row lasted all night, until, exhausted and sick with worry, I’d dragged myself off to work, to endure eight hours of comments on my red rimmed eyes and hangdog expression. ‘Lovers tiff?’ they’d teased, semi-maliciously, until I’d wanted to scream at them all.

  Walking home through yet another monsoon like deluge later that afternoon, I found my footsteps dragging slower and slower. I didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to face Mike and his stubborn determination not to admit he’d gotten himself deeply entrenched in something dishonest, something with the potential to spell disaster, not only for himself, but for me too.

  Reluctantly, I turned the corner of the street and immediately flattened myself to the wall, feeling the rough brick snag at the sopping wet material of my jacket. Wayne’s van had just pulled up outside the flat. As I watched, he jumped out, carefully locking the van behind him before strolling into the building.

  That settled it; I definitely wasn’t going home whilst he was there. Resolutely turning my back on the flat, I set off back into town. I’d no idea where I was going, groaned as my cheap boots finally gave up in the face of floods of biblical proportions and cold water oozed its way between my toes. Muttering curses, I hunched further into my inadequate jacket, blinked raindrops from my eyelashes, wondered whether I should go and see my parents. I didn’t want to alarm them by arriving unannounced, but desperately needed somewhere to shelter.

  I dithered on the corner of the road, unsure whether to take the turning which led into town or carry on out into suburb land where mum and dad lived. I’d taken a step forward, thinking sod it, I would go and see my parents, even their inevitable twenty questions was better than drowning, when a car, long, sleek and red, suddenly tore round the corner of the road too close to the kerb, ploughed straight through a massive muddy puddle, and drenched me from head to foot in freezing cold water.

  Stunned and dazed, I looked down in angry dismay at my sodden clothes, shook my fist at the retreating car, alarmed when brake lights flashed red, it skidded to a halt a few yards away and the driver’s door flew open. I stepped back, shocked, as a t
all, dark haired man, holding a waxed green coat over his head, jumped out and hurried towards me.

  ‘Eve?’ I blinked stupidly, the name rendering me paralysed. Realised it was Scott, his face concerned and guilty when he saw my drowned rat status. ‘Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, I took the corner too fast and suddenly you were there. Oh Christ, you’re absolutely soaked.’

  I wiped a hand across my face, staring at the mud which came off on my fingers, feeling cold wetness trickling down my cleavage. I was quite literally soaked to the skin. Tears of despair pricked at my eyes. It was all too much, I’d had enough. I glared at Scott angrily.

  ‘What on earth are you doing out in this, Eve?’ he asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact I now wanted to kill him. ‘Can I give you a lift somewhere?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t going anywhere,’ I replied. ‘I was just out... walking.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t be out in this, you’ll catch your death, come on, get in the car,’ he held out a hand to me and I backed away suspiciously.

  ‘No, honestly, I’ll be fine...’

  ‘Don’t be silly, come on, I insist.’ Somehow, I found myself allowing him to lead me back to the car, where he laid his coat lining side down and helped me to sit on it, before shutting the door and hurtling back round to the driver’s side. Once inside the car, I realised how heavy the rain was, watched with fascination as it lashed at the windows and flooded down the windscreen. Scott wiped a hand over his wet face and grinned at me.

  ‘It’s really something, isn’t it? I keep expecting to see an ark come floating by,’ I smiled feebly, rendered speechless by how utterly and completely gorgeous he was. It was as if over the past fortnight I’d forgotten, and now, being face to face with him again was struck anew by how very male he was. ‘So,’ he began, turning the key in the ignition. ‘Where can I take you?’

  ‘Nowhere,’ I replied unthinkingly, and in the unnatural gloom of the car felt his surprise.

  ‘At least let me take you home,’ he pleaded. I quickly shook my head.

  ‘I don’t want to go home, because, well, it’s complicated, I just can’t go home right now.’ I felt his confusion, didn’t dare look at him. Couldn’t bring myself to explain I didn’t want to go home, because my possibly criminal boyfriend and his definitely criminal boss were there.

  ‘Ok,’ he said slowly. ‘Well, we can’t sit here all night, and I’m certainly not letting you wander off by yourself in this weather,’ he paused, ‘Tell you what, you can come with me.’

  ‘With you?’ I stuttered, ‘But, but, where are you going?’

  ‘To Annaliese’s,’ he replied jauntily. ‘Mrs Briggs is away for a few days and Annaliese phoned and invited me over. She asked me to pick up a Chinese on the way, although, judging by the amount of food I’ve just collected, either the entire population of China is also invited or the others are round for the evening.’ For the first time I noticed a number of plastic takeaway bags, filled to the brim with cartons, standing in the foot well by my feet.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly just arrive unannounced,’ I protested, feeling my heart do a nervous little dance inside my rib cage.

  ‘You would probably be saving my life if you came,’ he stated.

  ‘What? Why?’ I frowned.

  ‘Because if Annaliese hears I half drowned you, then drove away and left you standing in the street to die of pneumonia, she will definitely kill me. So, that’s settled, you’re coming with me. Everyone will be thrilled to see you. I know Annaliese was disappointed when you vanished from her party. There’s plenty of food, in case you’re worrying...’

  He paused and my stomach, empty since a small bowl of cornflakes that morning, caught a whiff of delicious food smells and emitted a monstrous rumble. ‘Especially as it sounds like thunder,’ he finished, and smiled innocently at my small squeak of embarrassment.

  Ten minutes later we pulled up outside the Hall, the rain now so heavy it had been like driving underwater. I’d been impressed with how competently and calmly Scott handled the wheel, feeling safe in his hands, cocooned in the cosy small world of the car. In that short ten minutes, the daydreams had crowded over me and I’d been silent, indulging in the pleasant fantasy we were a couple, going to see friends together. Afterwards, at the end of the evening, we’d go home together. Scott turned off the engine and I snapped back into reality, shooting a nervous look at his oblivious profile, thankful the thoughts in my head were private.

  Quickly, we dashed from the car to the door, Scott holding his coat over us both whilst I carried the bags of Chinese. Once inside, I squelched across the tiled entrance way which was as stunning as I remembered. My eyes flicked up the stairway, recalling how I’d stood there listening as I was dismissed as a mere charity case, the hired help getting above herself.

  Scott hung our dripping coats up on a rack and headed off down the hall, where a patch of light shone, a chatter of voices indicating this was where the rest of the group were gathered. He pushed the door open, and several voices exclaimed at once, admonishing him for taking so long, commenting on the rain. I heard a voice, female, French and sexy.

  ‘At last, I am so hungry; it is not good for the baby to go without food for so long.’ I realised it must be the dark haired pregnant woman speaking, and the deep male voice with the slight Scottish burr which followed must be her red headed husband.

  ‘That’s right, sweetheart, it must be all of... oh, an hour, since you last ate.’ There was laughter, and Scott grinned, before pulling me deeper into the room.

  ‘Look who I nearly drowned on the way here.’

  ‘Eve!’ I heard Annaliese’s joyful cry, saw the genuine pleasure which leapt into her eyes, realised, no matter what I’d overheard, she, at least, did not consider me a charity case. She jumped to her feet and crossed to me, her face registering shock as she realised how wet I was.

  ‘Oh, my goodness,’ she exclaimed. ‘You weren’t kidding were you? What on earth did you do, Scott? Take her to the nearest pond and throw her in?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Scott agreed ruefully. Annaliese took the bags of takeaway from me, handed them back to him and took me by the hand.

  ‘Well, all questions later,’ she declared firmly. ‘First, we need to get you out of those wet things. Will you stay and eat with us?’ she asked, and for a moment I could almost hear a pleading note in her voice.

  ‘Erm, well, if that’s alright with everyone,’ I replied shyly, gratified by the chorus of affirmatives that rang out from the others.

  ‘Well then, that’s settled isn’t it,’ stated Annaliese, and beamed at me. I was instantly bathed in a warm glow of happiness, inexplicably feeling as if I’d come home. Twenty minutes later, after a quick shower to warm myself up and clean all the mud off, I emerged, dressed in clothes borrowed from Annaliese, surprised they fitted. Despite her assurances we were the same size, I hadn’t seen how that could possibly be true. I always felt so large and cumbersome compared to her petite slightness, a carthorse next to a thoroughbred. The same species, true, but points apart in every respect.

  As I smoothed on wisps of coffee coloured silk, which flattened my stomach and so cleverly moulded my breasts it looked as though I actually had some. Pulled on denims so soft and well cut they felt like a second skin and ran my hands with pleasure over the butter yellow cashmere sweater, I reflected how it must be nice to have the money to buy such beautiful clothes.

  I surveyed myself in her mirror, relieved, despite my experience I didn’t actually look too bad, a lot better anyway than I had at the party. Two weeks of good healthy food and the facial had worked wonders, there was not a spot to be seen, and the hot shower had brought a quite becoming flush to my cheeks. The new haircut was holding up well, my hair falling naturally into pretty damp curls down to my shoulders. I hadn’t bothered with the hairdryer Annaliese had left out on the bed, my
hair being the sort best left to its own devices; any heated appliances tending to reduce it to a pile of frizz.

  Making my way downstairs, I wondered whether I should phone Mike to let him know where I was. I really didn’t want to talk to him, not now, not here, didn’t even want to think about him, but reluctantly decided I had to do something. The last thing I wanted was him to call my parents and set them worrying, something he might very well do if I failed to come home from work.

  In the end, I took the cowards way out and sent him a text – ‘gone 4 dinner with m8s’ – and left it at that, moments later receiving an equally brief ‘ok out all nite, c u 2mrw’ reply. Relieved, I switched off my phone, slipped it back into my bag and went to rejoin the others.

  They were lounging in the small, less formal reception room to the left of the stairs. A fire had been lit to ward off the unseasonable chill and a TV screen flickered in the corner of the room. As I entered, Annaliese beckoned me over, patted the sofa next to her, taking in my now dry appearance with satisfaction, handing me a plate and a napkin.

  ‘I’m afraid we started without you,’ she said. ‘But we didn’t think it was a good idea to make Mimi wait any longer for her food.’

  ‘I’m eating for two now,’ Mimi complained, a heaped plate balanced on her bump, as she expertly and quickly ladled noodles into her mouth with a pair of chopsticks.

  ‘This is Mimi,’ Annaliese confirmed, then waved a hand at the burly red-headed man with the kindly handsome face sitting beside her. ‘And that is her angelic husband, Andrew.’ We murmured pleasantries to each other. Annaliese’s husband, Robert, sitting on the other side of the room, waved a hand as Annaliese introduced him. ‘Sitting next to you is Miles,’ she continued and I smiled at him, recognising him as the man who’d got Mimi a chair at the party.