by Cat Clarke
Mum and Dad thought it was a brilliant idea, until I pointed out that the vouchers you needed to get torches would definitely be sold out by now. I was quite proud of myself for coming up with that one. I’d given up the illness charade just in case Mum got all maternal on me and decided not to let me out of the house on Hogmanay. Kate would kill me if I had to bail.
Jamie smirked at me, and that was when I knew he was one step ahead. ‘Nah, it’s OK, Al. A mate of mine has four vouchers he said I could have.’
I had no choice. Mum was already getting excited, saying she’d make up a couple of flasks of hot chocolate for us to drink on Calton Hill while we waited for the fireworks after the procession. Dad was asking if she could put a ‘wee dram’ of whisky in one of those flasks.
So it was settled. Tonight was officially ‘family time’. I had no idea what Jamie was up to. Maybe nothing at all – maybe he really did want to spend time with us after the invasion of extended family over Christmas. Maybe he was horribly lonely up in Aberdeen and spent his days pining for us. Somehow I didn’t think so.
I texted Kate to check what she was up to. I needed to make sure there was no chance of us bumping into her or her mum. I didn’t ask her if she was going to the torchlight procession, because obviously that would have led her to ask if I was going and that might make her ask if she could come with me. I needn’t have worried – she was spending the evening with her mum. Mrs McAllister was making a steak pie, which was one of their little family traditions. They usually had it on Hogmanay but since Kate was supposedly so keen to spend the New Year with Astrid, they’d decided to celebrate a day early. Apparently her mum was not happy about them not seeing in the New Year together, but Kate had really laid it on thick, begging to go, making some deal about how much piano practice she’d do in January. That was what clinched the deal, of course. So I was safe to admit I was taking part in the procession and Kate was jealous about that. She made me promise that we’d go together next year. She made me promise.
*
It was bloody freezing, but there was no rain or hail or snow so Jamie’s procession plan was GO. I wore my new hat pulled right down over my ears. It didn’t look as good on me as it did on Kate.
The four of us walked up the hill into town; the streets were teeming. I walked with Dad and Jamie walked with Mum, which was always the way it worked out whenever we went anywhere together. Dad was telling me about some French film he wanted to see and asking if I’d go with him. Going to see random foreign films was one of his favourite things to do. Usually he ended up going by himself, which didn’t seem to bother him. He probably liked the peace and quiet – and not having Mum asking what was going on every five minutes. For an intelligent woman – and my mother really is an intelligent woman – she has this incredible inability to follow basic storylines. Although I reckon at least half of the time she does it so that Dad feels all clever when he’s explaining things to her.
Chambers Street was heaving by the time we arrived; the queue to get our torches seemed to take forever. Just as I was starting to lose the feeling in my fingers Jamie handed me my torch. It always made me a bit nervous, carrying those torches. That was part of the fun though – wondering if some idiot would accidentally set someone else’s hair on fire. Jamie always used to mess around, pretending to trip and fall – Mum hated that. There was no messing around this year though. Jamie looked solemn in the flickering firelight.
We edged our way through the crowd. I have to admit, it was still an incredible sight – thousands of torches bobbing through the darkness. It would have been cool to watch the procession from somewhere high up – a room in the Balmoral Hotel, maybe – but you’d be missing out on a fundamental part of the experience. There was something special about so many people taking over the streets like that.
It made me think about witch hunts. Add a few pitchforks into the mix and this must have been what it was like. Marching through the streets in pursuit of some poor woman who hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe she’d mixed up some herbs to cure some minor ailment or other or maybe she was just a little bit too wise or maybe she didn’t have a husband. And of course that got me thinking that if I’d have been unlucky enough to be born five hundred years ago I’d probably have been near the top of the witch-hunters’ shit list. I was just weighing up the options of being burned at the stake versus that stupid ducking/drowning thing they used to do (and coming to the conclusion that I didn’t really fancy either option all that much) when Jamie nudged me with his elbow.
I hadn’t even noticed but he’d somehow engineered it so that we were behind Mum and Dad. I asked him what he wanted but he just shook his head. Then he started slowing down, so I had to slow down to stay with him. Before I knew it, random people had moved in to fill the gap between us and our parents. I could just about still see Dad’s hat if I strained my neck. ‘We’d better catch up,’ I said to Jamie, but he shook his head. And that was when I knew what was happening – the lion’s signature move of separating the cute, helpless baby zebra from the pack. Jamie took hold of my arm and manoeuvred me towards the pavement. A few people gave us odd looks as we pushed through the crowd of onlookers on South Bridge. Someone even shouted ‘Oi! You’re going the wrong way!’ but Jamie ignored them.
We ended up in a little close off the Royal Mile – one that was thankfully free from tramps or tourists, although it did still come complete with the usual faint aroma of piss and vomit. ‘Um … what are you doing? Mum’s gonna freak out when she realizes they’ve lost us.’
‘I think we’re a little bit too old for that whole stranger danger thing, don’t you?’ He paused and I knew he was about to say something I wouldn’t like. ‘Besides, I told her I’d be … er … borrowing you for a bit.’ He at least had the decency to look guilty.
‘And why did you tell her you wanted to do that?’ I would have crossed my arms if I hadn’t been holding the bloody torch.
He shrugged. ‘I said I needed to spend some time alone with my baby sis to … shoot the breeze.’
‘Shoot the breeze?’ I said, sceptically.
‘What?! That’s a thing, you know. It means talking.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I know full well what it means, Jamie. It’s just not something you have ever said. Why are you being so weird?’
I knew, but I wanted him to say it.
The two of us stood facing each other in that narrow, dank alleyway, with the torchlight dancing on our faces. It would have made a pretty cool scene in a film. Except in a film we would have been co-conspirators in some kind of plot to overthrow the government or something. I had a nasty feeling Jamie wasn’t in the mood to conspire with me.
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’
This was true. ‘I have not. I’ve practically been on my deathbed … or hadn’t you noticed?’
‘On your deathbed? God, Alex, I never had you down for being a drama queen. Anyway, you weren’t even ill so why don’t you cut the crap?’
Jamie had never talked to me like this before. Sure, he was always taking the piss out of me and he’d get annoyed at me in a very normal brotherly way. This was different – he was deadly serious, for one thing.
‘So what if I was faking? There’s only so much family togetherness I can stomach – you know that.’ Some Americans walked past the entrance to the alleyway chanting ‘U-S-A, U-S-A.’ Every time I see them doing that on TV I try to picture us chanting ‘U-K, U-K’, but somehow it doesn’t work – for some reason the enthusiasm doesn’t really translate.
Jamie leaned back against the wall; I hoped there was some crusty old chewing gum that would stick to his expensive new jacket. ‘Alex, I know something’s going on with you so why don’t you just spit it out so we can get back to Mum and Dad in time for the fireworks … I thought you might feel more comfortable talking away from home.’ Jamie sort of shook his head at how nonsensical that was.
‘Nothing’s going on! Let’s just go, OK?’ I turned away from him and walk
ed a couple of steps towards the entrance of the close.
‘I heard you talking to that girl.’ I stopped walking. ‘I know you’re … seeing her.’ I turned around. ‘It’s OK, you know. There’s nothing wrong with being gay. You know I don’t have a problem with that – and Mum and Dad are cool with it too. You know that.’ The torchlight emphasized the pained expression on his face. As if this was harder for him than it was for me.
‘I’m not gay! Jesus! Why the fuck do people keep saying that? Look, Jamie, no offence but this is really none of your business.’
‘So I suppose it’s none of my business when I come back for the holidays to find half of my clothes have magically migrated from my room to yours?’ He’d been snooping in my room. For some reason that felt like an unforgivable betrayal, even though I’d obviously snooped first. ‘And it’s none of my business when I hear you talking to some girl about buying condoms? Why the hell would you need condoms if you’re …’ My brother likes to act like he’s stupid; he’s not. I watched him as his brain joined the dots, creating a picture that confused him even more. ‘Oh man.’ He was shaking his head now.
I stepped towards him, my non-torch-bearing hand raised like I was warding off a dangerous animal. ‘Jamie, it’s not–’
‘How is that even possible? I mean, she can’t honestly think that you’re …’ I really thought he wasn’t going to say it. ‘… a boy?’
The game was well and truly up – that much was obvious. Damage control was my only option. I didn’t have to fake the panic on my face. ‘Please don’t tell Mum! Jamie, you have to promise not to tell her, OK? This is … it was a mistake.’
‘A mistake? How do you accidentally pretend to be a boy? That makes precisely no sense, you do realize that?’
It sounded so much worse than it was. I wasn’t pretending to be anything. It was more complicated than that. Jamie needed some sort of explanation and I felt a sudden need for him to understand. I was desperate for him to tell me it wasn’t that bad, that the situation was fixable. ‘I … we met online. I didn’t realize she thought I was a guy – not until we met up. And then … it was never the right time.’
‘I can’t get my head around this. Couldn’t you just have … I dunno … put on a skirt or something? I’m pretty sure that would’ve done the trick.’
‘She liked me.’ Because that was what it all came down to. She liked me in a way that no one else had ever liked me before. And I liked her back. ‘I’m in love with her, Jamie.’
He winced as if that was the last thing he wanted to hear. ‘And what about her? What’s her name anyway?’
‘Kate. She’s in love with me too.’ It felt good to say it out loud to someone who knew the truth, as if that validated it somehow.
‘She’s not though, is she? She’s in love with some boy who doesn’t even exist.’
He didn’t say it to be cruel – I knew that. But it didn’t stop the words slicing through my heart like a scalpel through flesh. ‘It’s not like that. She knows me. It feels like I can be myself with her … Don’t say it, OK? There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t thought of already. I hate lying to her.’
Jamie sighed. ‘Then stop it. It’s not too late to make things right. Maybe if you explain things to her … she might understand?’ He didn’t sound very sure about that.
‘I can’t lose her.’ My torch was burning low. The flame looked like it might sputter out any second.
‘Well you can’t keep her, can you? Not like this.’ He let that sink in for a moment or two. ‘She wanted you to get condoms, right? I don’t mean to be graphic or anything but don’t you think she’s gonna realize pretty quickly that you … um … don’t exactly have anything to put a condom on?’
I studied Jamie’s face for any hint that he was mocking me. ‘I never meant for it to go this far, Jamie. She keeps on pushing me to take things further, and I want to but I … God, this is such a fucking mess. What am I going to do?’ My voice cracked unexpectedly. I turned away from Jamie as soon as I realized there was no way to stop the tears, but he took hold of my shoulders and held me in his arms. I dropped my torch, and I think he must have dropped his at the same time.
‘It’ll be OK, Alex.’
I started sobbing then. Something about people being nice to me breaks my heart.
The tears dried up after a few minutes, leaving my head feeling woolly and thick. It was difficult to think straight. Jamie made a joke about me snotting all over his jacket. I breathed a shaky breath and tried to pull myself together. ‘OK. OK. I’m OK.’ Because if you say something three times that makes it true.
‘Good.’ He paused, weighing up whether I was strong enough to take what he was going to say. ‘You know what you have to do then?’
I nodded.
‘You promise you’ll do it soon? You need to end this now before it gets more … complicated.’
I wasn’t quite sure how it could get more complicated, but I was too exhausted to argue. ‘I’m not sure how to explain it to her.’ Not one imaginary version of that conversation ended well.
‘Then maybe you don’t have to … Maybe you could break things off quickly. Stop answering her calls. I presume she doesn’t know where we live?’
‘I couldn’t …’ It was a horrible thought to contemplate – doing something like that to Kate. But the alternative was even worse.
‘The way I see it you have two options. Either you sit down with her and tell her the truth and try to explain how you got yourself into this whole mess … and that’s not going to be easy … or you pretend to be a complete and utter bastard who’s lost interest all of a sudden. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time that’s happened in the history of the world, would it? So it’s up to you. Which do you think would hurt her less?’
That’s what my decision came down to in the end. At least, that’s what I told myself. I was doing the best thing for Kate; it was nothing to do with me being a coward.
chapter twenty-four
We didn’t make it to Calton Hill in time for the fireworks. We stood on North Bridge and watched them before heading home. Jamie apologized and said we’d do the procession properly next year. I don’t think he really believed I was bothered about the procession; I think he just wanted to say sorry for something.
We didn’t talk much on the walk home. I wondered if things would ever be the same between us. If there was a way back to the jokey, easy relationship we’d had. I wanted him to reassure me that I’d always be his little sister, no matter how many stupid things I did. He didn’t say anything though, and I didn’t ask. I was still too embarrassed about crying all over him.
Jamie put the kettle on while I switched the Christmas tree lights back on. We sat in front of the TV. If I concentrated really hard I could almost feel like there was nothing wrong – that I wasn’t on the verge of ruining the best thing that had ever happened to me. The audience of the sitcom we were watching was laughing way too hard over a very tall man squeezing himself into a very small car when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I took my phone out and tried to ignore Jamie staring at me. It was a text from Kate asking me if I’d enjoyed the procession. She said she’d been able to see the fireworks from Portobello. She liked that we’d both been watching the same thing at the same time. She said it was the next best thing to being together. Kate was always sending sweet messages like that – little things that would make me smile and feel good about myself no matter what was happening around me. Those messages were like oxygen to me.
There weren’t going to be any more messages like that from Kate. I was looking at the very last one. I stared at it until the words went blurry. And then I realized the words hadn’t gone blurry at all – there was a film of tears in front of my eyes. I blinked hard until they went away.
Kate’s message didn’t make me smile and feel good about myself this time. It made me feel like I was choking. It was too much – the thought of her looking up at those fireworks, feeling ha
ppy and excited and hopeful about the future, while I’d looked up at them, knowing it was over.
I would never see her again. Not unless we passed each other in the street one day. I’d already thought of that. It was that stupid thing that Jamie had said back in the alleyway – that I should have just worn a skirt. When Kate walked down the street, she’d be scanning the faces of passing boys – even if she was doing it subconsciously, she’d be half-expecting to bump into me one day. But she wouldn’t be paying attention to girls. A girl wearing tights and a skirt and a silly little jacket even though it was freezing outside. So that is exactly what I would have to become. It would just be another disguise – even further away from the real me than wearing Jamie’s clothes and stuffing things down my pants. Mum would probably be delighted and Jamie would probably think that I was ‘fixed’.
‘Alex? That’s her, isn’t it?’
I nodded.
‘Don’t answer.’
I told him about our plans for tomorrow night. There was no reason not to.
‘That’s perfect then. Just turn off your phone. She won’t keep trying after you bail on that. Trust me. Here, give me your phone.’
I didn’t, but he snatched it out of my hands. He made a big show of pressing the ‘off’ button. ‘There. All done. Now just forget about her. Move on.’
I looked at him as if he was a moron. Forget about her. Move on. As if either of those things were remotely possible.
‘Look, I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s got to be done. This is your best option, right?’
