The Places I've Cried in Public

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The Places I've Cried in Public Page 18

by Holly Bourne


  I curl my legs up on the seat, hugging myself.

  I had a tough session with Joan yesterday, you see.

  “You seem to keep going over the good times with this boy,” Joan said. That’s what she calls you. This boy. Because I’ve not told her your name. “But it may be worth remembering the not-so-good times, too. So you’re not romanticizing the relationship too much. Does that make sense?”

  It does, and it makes me feel proud. Proud that I thought to make this memory map, even before I met Joan. Proud that my instincts this could help heal me were right.

  She asked about some bad times, steering the questions in a way so I felt relaxed enough to reveal things.

  Two weeks ago, we talked a lot about your attitude towards girls. Did you respect them? And I thought of quite a few bad things to say.

  “Well, he sometimes said off things about girls,” I found myself telling her. “Like, whenever we watched a TV show, he’d always comment on girls’ appearances. Like ‘Oooh, she’s not very pretty’ or ‘Oooh, nice arse’, and if I called him out on it, he’d say something like ‘Come on, I’m a guy’.”

  “And do you believe that all guys talk about women that way?”

  I shook my head, because no, no I didn’t. Because Alfie never spoke about girls that way. My father never did.

  Then, last week, we talked about how often we’d seen each other.

  “I don’t want to hear about the first couple of weeks,” Joan warned. “What about after that? You say he started being unkind about spending time together?”

  And, once again, I found I had plenty to say about you, Reese, and plenty of it wasn’t particularly good.

  “Well, he acted like I was weird for wanting to spend time with him. Whenever I asked if he was free, he’d get all off-ish. He’d make plans with everyone other than me.”

  “So that wasn’t very kind,” Joan stated.

  “No,” I replied. “I suppose it wasn’t.”

  “And do you believe that it’s weird for a girlfriend to want to spend time with their boyfriend?”

  “No. I mean, not all the time. But, some of the time. My ex, Alfie – he never made it feel strange that I wanted to spend time with him.”

  “Well, probably because he wanted to spend time with you.”

  “And Reese didn’t…”

  She paused. “I think it’s a positive thing you had this relationship with Alfie before this boy,” she said eventually. “It’s good to have something healthy to compare your experiences to.”

  That was the first time she implied you and I weren’t healthy, Reese.

  And, at our session yesterday…

  “This may be difficult to talk about, Amelie. And I want you to know this is a safe space, and we don’t have to talk about anything you’re not comfortable with.”

  “Uh-oh,” I joked, to cover the twist in my guts.

  “But I wanted to talk today about your physical relationship with this boy.”

  That’s when I got the first weird thing. The first supersonic pulsing of WRONG WRONG WRONG, NO NO NO going ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM through my body.

  “Do you mean sex?” My throat shut down, my fingers trembed under my pulled-down sleeves. My breathing sped up, hurting my lungs with each inhalation.

  “Yes,” Joan replied. “If it’s not too painful, I think it would be useful if we talked about what went on in your sexual relationship.”

  I’m going up to Sheffield. I’m going up to Sheffield, where it happened. We’ve just gone past the chimneys and we’re getting closer and it’s all coming up and it’s all coming back and I don’t know if I can stand to think about it.

  “Come on,” you always used to whisper when my clothes were already off and therefore I already felt vulnerable. “Let’s try it. Just once. Aren’t you curious?”

  “No.”

  I would always say no.

  “Everyone does it now. It’s not a big deal.”

  “No, Reese.”

  Then you’d sulk and you’d cross your arms and you’d get into a huff, and sometimes, you’d refuse to have sex the usual way, even though I was totally up for that.

  “Are you okay?” Joan had asked yesterday in her office. “Amelie? Are you alright?”

  It was only then I realized I’d started crying and shaking uncontrollably.

  Not now.

  No.

  I don’t want to think about it now. This part of the trip isn’t about me, it’s about Alfie. The tears that he must’ve cried because of me. The tears he never should’ve had to cry.

  The train announcement system dings and reminds me where the buffet car is, and I manage to pull it together. I’ve unfurled my body by the time it chugs into Sheffield.

  Not just Sheffield.

  Home.

  The sense of belonging smacks me warmly in the face. My stomach settles, and I feel an easiness unleash itself inside me. I know this city. I know its roads and neighbourhoods. I know its shortcuts and secrets. There are memories of my life everywhere. I step out of the station into the square, where the giant steel fountains gurgle out welcoming water. For once, it’s not raining. The sun is out, hitting everything and tingeing it gold. I don’t have enough money to spend on a cab, so I wheel my way towards the hotel. Memories ignite and dance all around me – practically all of them happy ones.

  I grew up in this city. I became me in this city. I learned to walk and talk and grow and make friends and go to school and fall in love. Here, by the gargling fountains outside the town hall, I spent so many summers after school – sucking on ice lollies, daring Jessa and Kimmy to run through the water jets. Over there, in that shop, is where I bought my dress for the Year Eleven leaving ball. I used to sing in that little pub on the corner, on Tuesdays, when they had an open-mike night, Alfie urging me on most weeks.

  “If you keep doing it, it will get less scary,” he insisted.

  “I know that makes sense in theory,” I’d always reply. “But, for some reason, the nerves don’t care that I’ve done this a million times before.”

  “They will. They’ll get the message some day.”

  Alfie…

  I find the hotel. The lady at reception recognizes me from the phone. “Oh, you made it then,” she says, sounding genuinely delighted that I’m here. I’m on the top floor. I’m given a key card that works on the lift.

  “Have a good day,” she calls after me as I pull my stuff into the lift.

  “Thank you.”

  I fumble my way into my room – dropping my key card twice before I manage to get me and my stuff into it. The fire door swings shut behind me, leaving me in this little box of my own loneliness. I’ve never stayed in a hotel by myself before. It strikes me that no one in the universe right now knows where I am. I hoist my suitcase onto the little sofa, I draw the curtains so I’m sat in the dark, and I perch on the end of the bed.

  I’m not in the same hotel as where it happened.

  I couldn’t afford it, for one.

  Also, I couldn’t. Just couldn’t…

  I have a sudden need to take a shower. A really long shower, scraping my skin clean until it is red raw. I peel off my clothes, ignoring my reflection in the mirror. It’s a budget hotel, so the water pressure isn’t great, and there’s black mould in the tile grouting. But the water’s so hot it scalds my skin and I stand under it and shiver, even though it’s so damn hot and I find I am sobbing.

  Sobbing and screaming and smacking my fist against the mouldy tiles…

  …

  …

  …

  …This is what happened in Sheffield.

  I looked up from the book I was reading and saw the chimneys hurtling past outside the train window. I smiled, snapped a pic, and sent it off to Jessa.

  Amelie: THE CHIMNEYS! HONEY, I’M COMING HOME!

  She replied instantly.

  Jessa: Welcome back to the North! I cannot WAIT to see you, GC. See you at the station. You better not have some goofy accen
t. xxx

  My smile was the sort of smile that unravels your guts. I couldn’t concentrate on my book, I was smiling so hard. I’d forgotten how good it felt to have friends. To feel loved and connected and have my phone going off with messages from people who cared enough about my existence to send them. I’d vaguely kept up with Jessa, but not properly. I’d started to worry I was so annoying that no one would want to hear from me. That I’d only irritate them if I got in touch. So I’d stopped replying to messages, believing they were only sent out of politeness anyway. But I’d felt so lonely the past couple of weeks that I’d broken and fired one off to her.

  Amelie: What if I were to come back one weekend?

  She’d replied instantly.

  Jessa: OH MY GOD, YES. MAKE THIS HAPPEN NOW xx

  I was so high from the love that I’d booked it right away, even though the train costed a fortune because it was right before Christmas. And with that smile in my stomach on the train, I knew I was right to come back. This was just what I needed.

  “So, what you doing up there?” Reese had asked, the night before when I was packing.

  “There’s a gig at the Leadmill. An early one, and I’m friends with the band. It’s just a trip home, really.”

  He took off his hat, put it on my bed, and gave me a huge hug out of nowhere. Then he drew back, holding me at arm’s length. “Is he going to be there?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Although I knew for sure I’d see Alfie. “We’re just friends though.”

  Reese rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  “It’s true! We broke up before I even knew you. And I’ve not spoken to him in months.”

  “Well, I’ll meet up with one of my exes this weekend, shall I? One I’ve written a song about? See how you like it?”

  My tummy instantly went into spasm. I wouldn’t like that – not one bit. I often tortured myself with thoughts of Reese’s exes. I’d never been a jealous person until we got together. But there were at least two girls in college I knew he’d slept with, and the merest whiff of thinking about it made me want to vomit. In my head, his exes were so much better for him than me. They were less needy, and so chill and cool and everything a girl is supposed to be.

  “Reese, I’ll probably hardly speak to him. I just really need to see my friends. You’re always telling me you wish I had more of a life. Well, this is me having more of a life.”

  “With your ex.”

  “You know I only love you.”

  “Well, make sure you send me lots of messages.”

  We kissed and it was okay and I was so happy he wanted me to send him messages. He cared, he really cared. What a relief!

  My mood was beyond giddy as the train pulled into Sheffield. I spotted Jessa as I pushed through the barriers and my heart full-on cartwheeled when I saw who she’d brought with her.

  Standing there, hair a mess as always, sheepishly holding a sign that read Amelie, like he was a driver picking me up from the airport.

  Alfie.

  Something strange happened.

  I love him, my head told me.

  I love him, my heart told me.

  I love him, my soul told me.

  I love him, my everything told me.

  For a second, we locked eyes, and for a second, I have never felt clearer about anything in my life. I loved Alfie. Alfie and I were supposed to be together. I was an idiot. Reese was an idiot. What the holy fuck was I doing with him? Why did I let him treat me the way he did? Oh god, what had I done? I love him I love him I LOVE HIM.

  I could hardly walk, but I somehow managed to wobble over.

  And then, like most people who have moments of pure clarity but are stuck in situations where it’s not appropriate to act on them…I pushed it down and told myself it hadn’t happened.

  “Oh my god,” I said, instead of hello and I love you I love you I love you. I dropped my bag and we all smashed together into a hug. I could smell Alfie through the mesh of our bodies. He smelled of safe and comfort and good and nice. We all started laughing, giggling in a huddle, until we broke free.

  “And she’s crying,” Jessa said, tilting her head with affection. “I told you she would, Alfie.”

  He smiled at me too. In a nice way, though one with a guard up because neither of us knew who we were to each other any more.

  I laughed and pushed the tears back into my eyes. “You just surprised me, that’s all.” I looked at Alfie again. “A good surprise,” I added.

  We stared at each other a second and I felt it, I just felt it. I love you I love you I love you, he was saying right back. I love you, Amelie. I love you.

  Jessa ignored us or didn’t see it. “Right. Here’s the plan,” she announced. “Back to mine. Get a proper brew on. Mum’s desperate to see you, so you may have to endure her endless questions about down south for a while – sorry about that. Then my world-famous mac-and-cheese, you and Alfie feel weird and awkward around each other, then we meet everyone else at the tram stop for the gig.”

  “Jessa!” Alfie and I both said, exasperated, at the same time. She cackled again.

  “Oh come on, let’s just embrace the awkward! When was the last time you two actually spoke to one another anyway?”

  We both walked with our heads bowed, towards the bus stop. “A couple of months,” I eventually said.

  “Lemme guess?” Jessa shook her head, still laughing. “You were both too proud and thought the other one was off not missing you, so you pretended you weren’t missing them and now you’re in a communication cold war?”

  “Jessa!” Alfie warned sharply, which wasn’t like him at all.

  She put both hands up in surrender. “Calm down. I’m just trying to help.”

  I managed to catch Alfie’s eye and give him my best This is awkward smile. He received it and nodded, the ease of our communication slipping back seamlessly – never a misread message, never a misunderstanding. I felt too many emotions all at once. They all knock-knocked on the door to my stomach, demanding to be let into the adrenaline-party, arguing over who had the most important reason to be there.

  Knock-knock-knock went Guilt, saying, Well, hang on, why the hell hasn’t Amelie even TOLD Alfie about Reese? That’s a terrible thing to do! I just really want to be allowed inside to truly make Amelie fixate on how she’s a deceitful liar. Can I get a plus-one too?

  Confusion then joined the argument. Umm, sweetie, what about Reese? Aren’t you supposed to be in love with him?

  What’s going on here? Can you even love two people at the same time? Hmm, shall we spend some time being confused about being confused?

  Joy, however, was determined to override everything. THIS FEELS SO GOOD! she shouted into my insides. Amelie, doesn’t this feel NICE? It’s like you’re YOU again. Ignore Confusion and Guilt and just ENJOY feeling good about yourself for the first time in months.

  But Jealousy pushed her to one side. What’s Alfie been doing these last months without you? Why hasn’t he called? Has he been with other girls? Is he in love with these girls? Even though you promised you wouldn’t fall in love with anyone else? I mean, you didn’t exactly hold up your end of that bargain, did you? How can you expect him to? Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve just squeezed some high-concentrate droplets of nausea into your stomach. That’s okay, right?

  And finally, Pain hit, just as we hopped on a bus that would take us back to Jessa’s house. It grasped my wrist and said, This hurts, Amelie. All of this is really terrible and painful – ouch ouch ouch!

  The bus rumbled past all my old haunts, past the university buildings, up past the Crookesmoor parks. It even went past the end of my old road, and Pain really took a hold then, prodding me like a child exploring a puddle with a stick. I went quiet and bit my lip.

  “You okay?” Alfie asked. “This must be weird for you.”

  I smiled sadly. “You too.”

  His hand tightened on the bus rail. “You have no idea.”

  Many things passed between us as
the bus flung itself up another giant Sheffield hill. I got a flash of what my life would’ve been if my parents hadn’t moved. Alfie and I would still be together; I wouldn’t even know Reese existed. I couldn’t begin to imagine that. I knew, then, I was being unfair. I needed to tell Alfie. Much as it was going to break both our hearts, I had to be honest. I owed it to Alfie, and I owed it to Reese. I’m not sure what I owed myself, but I was in such a confused state I couldn’t even begin to figure out what I wanted or deserved. I still can’t.

  “Alf?” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you came to meet me at the station.”

  A smile broke over his face. “You are?”

  I nodded. “We probably need to talk at some point today.”

  His smile got even bigger, misreading it entirely. “Great. Yeah, you’re right. Let’s talk.”

  We never got time to talk. We got off the bus and went into Jessa’s house, which felt so comforting and festive with the Christmas tree up and cards hanging all down the stairs. She was right, her mum bombarded me with questions as I drank countless cups of sugary tea.

  “Yes, they’re settling in well. Yes, it is much warmer down there. Yes, fish and chips is much more expensive, everything is. Yes, it’s been hard but we’re doing okay. Yes, I guess it is exciting to be so close to London. No, I’ve not seen any shows yet. No, we’re staying down there for Christmas. I know, I know. Our auntie’s coming down to us, as Dad can’t get time off work. Yes, it’s a shame. Yes, my music’s going okay.” I told them about the Cube and Alfie actually stood up and hugged me in congratulations.

 

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