by Beth Thomas
‘It wasn’t Abby’s visitor actually. It was my sister. Naomi. She had come to see me.’
He doesn’t say anything for a while and I’m tortured wondering what he’s thinking about that. My tone of voice must have given the impression that I was not thrilled at the prospect of a visit from my sister, so he’s worked out things aren’t good between us.
‘I’m guessing she came with some bad news?’ he says gently. ‘We can talk about something else if you want. I’ve got loads of very interesting facts about sharks at my disposal. Just say the word.’
I huff out one short laugh. ‘No, it’s OK. She did bring bad news, but it was only bad for me. Bit tricky to explain without going into the whole …’ I pause for a moment.
He turns to look at me. ‘We have to go into a hole?’
‘What?’
He’s shaking his head when I look at him. ‘Nothing. Sorry. Go on.’
‘Well, she just wanted to tell me about something … that was really horrible to hear about. For me. But it doesn’t affect anyone else, so not the kind of devastating news you might be thinking. Not that I have any idea what sort of news you might have been thinking about. But it was completely devastating for me.’ Finally I stop talking. I’m surprised to see that Felix is still walking next to me and not heading back the way we’ve just come as fast as he can.
‘She stitched you up. Didn’t she?’
He’s turned to face me full on and is pretty much walking sideways again. Hearing him sum up in those few words and in that quiet, gentle tone exactly what Naomi did seems to relieve some of the massive weight on my shoulders, and I sigh deeply. ‘Yes. She did. In the most terrible way you can imagine.’
He shakes his head slowly. ‘I’m really sorry to hear that, Daisy. Unfortunately there are people in the world who barge through life – theirs and everyone else’s – doing exactly what they want whenever they feel like it with absolutely no thought to the damage they’re doing. Selfish, inconsiderate and unaware. I can’t bear people like that.’ He falls silent for a moment and I get the very strong feeling that he’s speaking from personal experience. He turns to me again. ‘A … friend of mine … went through a difficult time a couple of years ago. Really tough. And I remember his father, at the time, acted incredibly selfishly. Making demands, having unrealistic expectations, that kind of thing. Completely oblivious to what my friend was going through.’ He releases a long breath. ‘Your sister sounds like one of those people.’
It’s weird. I’ve only known Felix for a short time, but I don’t feel defensive when he criticises my family. Normally, no matter how vile Naomi was to me, I would not allow anyone to criticise her. But Felix seems so genuine and has so obviously been affected by behaviour like this himself that I find myself feeling allied to him and not to her. I nod. ‘You’re right, she is. Always has been, although in the past it was mostly about being inconsiderate and not seeing anything from anyone else’s point of view. Nothing she’s done before comes even close to this one …’
He nods and breathes in deeply, releasing it slowly. ‘Daisy,’ he says seriously, and I feel instantly anxious in case he’s going to point out to me where I’m going wrong, ‘I’m sure you already know that great white sharks can smell blood in the water from a great distance away?’
I laugh out a breath, realising at that moment that I had been holding it. ‘Yes.’ I feel my shoulders and neck relaxing.
‘Well, did you also know that they have these incredible sensory receptors, electroreceptors, in their noses, called the ampullae of Lorenzini, which mean they can detect changes in temperature and electro-magnetic fields in the water? It’s unbelievable. And when you see them swimming, close up, it’s the most beautiful, graceful thing you’ve ever seen.’
We don’t touch on Naomi or selfish people in general again at all during the walk, and it passes very pleasantly. The bridge over the motorway causes me some very minor trepidation this time, apparently because I’m more aware of it, but I get over it, and get over it.
‘You see,’ Felix says, touching my arm, ‘your main fear was a fear of fear. Now you’re no longer scared of being scared, you’re not scared.’
By the time we get all the way round and back to the Lovely Lawn, I’m absolutely starving. Until yesterday I hadn’t felt a real desire for anything, even food, for some considerable time, so actually wanting something is still quite a novel and pleasant sensation.
‘Well, Miss Daisy, that was very enjoyable,’ Felix says as we approach the corner of his street. ‘Here’s my road, so … Are you exhausted now? You probably are. Probably anxious to get home and relax. Aren’t you?’
‘No, not really. Actually managed to sleep last night, so not tired at all.’
He nods. ‘Oh, right. Good. Well, er, in that case, would you like … Do you fancy coming in for that lunch? Today. Now?’
I had so been hoping he was going to ask me that. I smile. ‘Yes please.’
He releases a long breath. ‘Excellent. Come on then. I’m starving.’
He makes the chicken piri-piri and houmous that he promised yesterday and we eat it in companionable silence in Aunt Winnie’s marble-floored conservatory. She’s got remote control windows in the roof and electric blinds that go up and down at the touch of a button.
‘Wow, she’s got all mod cons, hasn’t she?’ I’m gazing up at the magic.
‘Yeah,’ he says fondly. ‘Great Aunt Winnie loves her gadgets.’
After we’ve loaded the plates into the sleek Bosch dishwasher, Felix puts a couple of little plastic pods into the Tassimo machine and it converts them into hot frothy cappuccinos. I curl my fingers round the mug and inhale the aromatic steam. Absent Aunt Winnie is one super-stylish feeble old crone. We go back to the living room and settle down into the soft leather chairs.
‘So,’ says Felix, eyeing me as I sip the delicious drink, ‘have you worked out what the thing in your subconscious was? Or rather, is. ’Cause you can bet your life it’s still there, niggling away, planting dreams, unsettling you, making you think that there’s something you’re missing, giving you a sense of unfinished business, loading you up with guilt–’
I put my hands up. ‘Yes yes yes, all right, I get it. God, do you ever shut up?’
He grins. ‘Hardly ever, actually. You know, I can help you find out what the thing is if you want? I can ease your mind.’
I narrow my eyes. ‘Are you quoting Paul Simon or Paul McKenna?’
He looks blank. ‘Who are they? Friends of Abby’s?’
I gape. ‘Are you serious? And if you are, why do you assume they’re friends of Abby’s, by the way? Why couldn’t they be friends of mine?’
He looks suitably discomfited. ‘Well, just because, um, they’re both called Paul and if anyone is going to have a multitude of friends with the same name, it’s Abby. And, before you leap to your feet and shout “I object!” can I just say in my defence that Abby did tell me you weren’t working or getting out much. Or at all.’
He looks so panicked with his hands flapping around, and he talks so quickly to defend himself, I find myself laughing. It’s a very odd feeling, one that I didn’t expect to be experiencing again for quite a few years – if ever, in fact. I’ve been so muffled, so rigid with grief for such a long time, I’d forgotten that other feelings even existed, let alone that they could be felt. Now there’s a lightening, a lifting and a brightening, from my head and my life, and this lessening of the heaviness I’ve been carrying for so long makes me feel almost as if I’m floating out of my chair. Since Mum died …
Abruptly I stop laughing and drop my expression. What am I doing? How could I behave like that, only six months later? I crash back into the chair with a heavy thump. It’s abhorrent. It’s despicable. It’s disgusting. It’s almost as if I don’t even care, that it means nothing …
I look up, briefly registering Felix’s face morphing from laughing to horror as he moves forward, about to leap to his feet, but it’s no goo
d, I can’t stop, I can’t carry on. My eyes feel hot and, unbearably, start to fill with tears.
‘My God, Daisy, what’s up?’ Felix says, shuffling forward in his chair, bringing his face close to mine. I dip my head so he can’t see the tears and start trying to get up, but he puts out an arm. ‘Jesus, talk to me, please? Are you feeling ill? Is everything OK?’
I nod blindly. ‘I’m fine, seriously, I just …’ I look up and find his deep brown eyes searching my face. It’s a good feeling, a welcome, safe feeling and I relax a little. I breathe a few moments, feeling myself calm down. ‘I’m OK. Really.’
‘I’m not sure I’m convinced. Actually, I’ll rearrange that: I’m sure I’m not convinced. You looked petrified for a moment.’ He glances over his shoulder, then back at me. ‘Just checking no zombies have appeared at the window.’
I let out a small laugh. ‘No, no, it wasn’t the undead that upset me.’
He peers into my eyes and my tummy feels squirmy. He picks my hand up in my lap and gently rubs his thumb over the back. ‘Then what?’ His voice is so soft, so kind, I feel like I could live there.
And here it is. The moment when I decide: do I tell him, or do I not? Are we real friends, or nothing more than walking partners? I’m here, in his house – well, his Great Aunt Winnie’s house – and he’s made me lunch. I enjoy his company. He seems to enjoy mine. He’s exasperating, funny, irritating, gentle, insensitive and generous. A single tear makes its way onto my cheek and I wipe it away quickly, then focus back resolutely into his eyes. ‘My mum died.’
‘Oh,’ he says softly. ‘I’m so sorry, Daisy. That’s terrible.’
I’m nodding already, but I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to go over it again, hear all the platitudes again, reassure anyone that I’m OK again. ‘Yes, it was terrible. Awful. But anyway, so tell me about your year of living dangerously.’
‘Abby!’ I call out as I erupt through the door half an hour later. It bangs on the wall behind it and almost hits me in the face. ‘Abby? Where the hell are you? I need to talk to you. Abby! ABBY!’
‘All right, all right, keep your freak on, I’m here,’ she says, coming into the hallway. ‘What’s the matter? You OK?’
‘What did you say to Danny?’ I begin. I was expecting to feel undiluted rage at her interference, but I’m actually feeling pretty relaxed now. In fact, I discovered when I got into bed last night that I wasn’t even all that furious then; but now, after my very enjoyable lunch with Felix, I feel better than I have done for … about three years. I try to sound angry though, just so she doesn’t get the impression I’m OK with it. Because I’m not. I’m absolutely cross.
‘What have you been saying to my friends?’
‘What are you talking about, Daze? I haven’t been saying anything to anyone, let alone any of your friends.’ She frowns briefly. ‘Wait a minute – what friends? You haven’t got any friends.’
I stall. She’s right there. I shake my head to clear it. ‘No, no, I don’t mean … I mean someone, one person, just one friend that I made recently, the only one. Now he won’t walk with me any more, barely even talks to me, and he says it’s because of you. What did you say to him, Abby?’
‘Daisy–’ she says, the word catching in her throat. But I don’t allow her to start making excuses.
‘I can’t believe you would do that to me, Abby. You’re supposed to be my friend. My only one.’
‘I am–’
‘I don’t need your help, I don’t need anything from you. Just go away and leave me alone.’ With a final angry stare into her face, I turn and go into my room, slamming the door.
It opens almost immediately and Abby’s crying face appears. ‘Daisy, what’s happened? What’s going on? Please talk to me.’
Oh God, now I feel absolutely awful, making her feel like that when I wasn’t even all that angry. I certainly didn’t expect her to cry. I stride over to her in the doorway and enfold her in a tight hug. ‘Oh Abby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m so vile, I don’t know why you put up with me.’
She sniffs and I hear a smile in her voice. ‘Because I love you, you dolt. And you do need me, you need me plenty and don’t you forget it.’
‘I know.’
‘It’s OK though. I like that you need me. I like that I can help you. I like that I’m looking after you and sorting you out. It makes me feel good about myself.’
We both smile at that. ‘Oh, so not entirely altruistic, then?’
‘God no. This,’ and she gestures vaguely around my room, which is of course, her room, ‘this is all about me and making myself happy. Don’t you go thinking this has got anything to do with you.’
‘OK then. Well in that case, you’re welcome.’
She laughs a little and squeezes my hand. ‘So what on earth brought that on? Wanna talk about it?’
I sit back a little and look into her face. ‘I saw Danny in the pub last night. Remember him? My walking partner, the friend that I made all on my own, without any help from anyone?’
‘Ah.’ She drops her gaze. ‘Right.’
‘You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?’
She looks up. ‘Let’s put it this way: your comment about me talking to all your friends kind of makes sense now.’
‘So you did talk to him?’
‘Well yeah, but you knew that, didn’t you? I’m guessing he told you that I had?’
‘No. He said I needed to talk to you. That you knew what was going on. So here I am, talking to you. What’s going on?’
She looks down at her lap again and fiddles with her fingers, then takes a deep breath. It’s clearly costing her a lot to admit this to me. ‘I … OK. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I shouldn’t have, but … I asked Danny … to make up an excuse not to walk with you any more.’
‘What? Why did you do that?’
She closes her eyes. It must sound bad, even to her. ‘Because I wanted you to train with Felix.’
I search her face, frowning. ‘Why?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? I mean, you’ve met Felix. You’ve spent time with him. He’s lovely.’
I consider this a few moments. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say lovely, exactly. He’s very cheerful, definitely. Obviously completely carefree. Which has been quite refreshing, I suppose. A little beam of light in an otherwise very murky and depressing tunnel.’
‘Well that’s one way of putting it. Either way, he’s better company than one-dimensional Danny.’
‘He is not!’ I feel a surge of defensive annoyance at her criticism of my vague acquaintance. ‘He’s gorgeous.’
‘Oh come on, he’s an idiot. A gym bunny. All he talks about is exercising and fitness. It’s so tedious.’
‘Not true. And anyway he has got a lovely bottom.’
‘OK, granted, he’s very easy on the eye. But so is Felix, right?’
I’m pouting. I know I am, I can feel it, but I can’t stop. ‘No he is not. Actually he’s a very irritating person.’
She laughs. ‘I knew he would annoy you. That’s why I wanted you to spend time with him.’
I stare at her. ‘Jesus, Abby, what are you, some kind of sick sadist? Haven’t I had enough to deal with lately without you sitting in the wings clapping your hands with glee every time he pisses me off or upsets me? Christ.’
‘No, no, that’s not it at all, softhead. I knew he would irritate you, challenge you, wind you up, stimulate you. Wake you up. Get you going.’ She presses her lips together. ‘Danny is like popcorn, isn’t he? He’s light and sweet and insubstantial. And, let’s face it, a bit reminiscent of polystyrene packaging. But Felix is more like …’ She raises her hands, palm up, in a gesture of defeat. ‘What? What is he like?’
I conjure Felix’s face in my head, then split the screen and put Danny in the other half. Danny, in shimmering yellow Lycra, is fair, tanned, toned and solemn, touching his toes and jogging on the spot. Next to him, Felix is in an old grey Mickey Mouse tee shirt and frayed jeans
; big, cheerful and relaxed, hands in pockets, grinning playfully. Danny is clearly a serious athlete, dedicated to the training he was helping me with, single-minded and committed. Very commendable. Felix is … I stare at the image of him in my mind and my gaze lands on the shark tooth at his throat.
‘He’s interesting, I’ll give you that.’
Abby nods. ‘Yeah.’
‘And he’s pretty funny. Now and then.’
More nodding. ‘True.’
‘And he has a pretty incredible great aunt.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, she’s got all these gadgets in her house, you know, like the designer fridge and the plasma telly and stuff. And right now she’s backpacking across Australia with her grand-daughter or something. But, Abs, when you see her, she’s this tiny little old lady with transparent skin and wispy hair. You can’t imagine in a million years that she would be … What? Why are you looking at me like that?’
Abby’s eyes are widening the longer I go on talking about Aunt Winnie. ‘Have you been to Felix’s house?’
I nod. ‘Yeah. Couple of times. Why?’
She doesn’t speak for a few seconds, just stares at me. Then says, ‘Fuck me.’
‘What? What’s so amazing about being at his house? Actually, it’s not really his, it’s Aunt Winnie’s, he’s just staying there for a while. Which reminds me, do you know what that’s all about? I mean, why is he house-sitting for her, leaving his own place empty? Or is it empty?’ Something occurs to me suddenly. ‘Oh my God, he’s married, isn’t he? His wife is in their house on her own, while Felix sits in Winnie’s. That’s it, isn’t it? They’ve had some kind of bust-up or something, and he’s fucked off to the elderly relative’s place to put some space between them. Or maybe he’s caught the wife out shagging someone else. Or, no, no, she caught him out! Yes! That’s it, isn’t it, she’s caught him out and then kicked him out, hasn’t she?’
