Curve

by Nicola Hudson

  “Oh, I watched that last week. Have you got Enchanted, Sylvie? That’s my favourite!” I threw a grateful smile at Neve, thankful that I wouldn’t have to spend the next couple of hours listening to Flynn’s name over and over. Sylvie found Enchanted and the three of us sat cuddled on the sofa, singing along to the Central Park dance number and deciding that, yes, we would like animals that cleaned up after us.

  When Mum got back, Neve and I made a hasty escape upstairs and were finally alone. We sat on the bed, like we had so many times before, but this time felt different. There was this huge thing between us, and neither of us really knew how to approach it. I hadn’t really understood the saying about there being an elephant in the room before, but I got it then. The events of the last couple of days, and what it meant to the relationship between me and Flynn, was a topic so big that we couldn’t ignore it, but we also couldn’t work out how to make it manageable. As we were sat side by side, backs against the wall, I didn’t have eye contact with Neve, which made it easier to start.

  “What do you know, Neve? I’d rather just fill in the gaps than re-hash everything.”

  Neve picked up my hand and entwined her fingers in mine. “That Rob came to the shop last night and attacked you and that you went to the police,” was her surprisingly brief answer. “Dad didn’t tell me anything, but just said to give you space to tell me when you were ready.” I knew that, at some point, I would have to thank Simon for how great he had been.

  Tightening my grip on her fingers, I told Neve what had happened, including some details, but holding back the ones I knew I couldn’t vocalise without getting upset.

  “Oh my god, Cass. What a fucking bastard. I hope that someone cuts his dick off.” I was surprised by the venom in Neve’s voice; she rarely got truly angry and then tended to be more childish than aggressive.

  “I’m just hoping that he gets locked up but that might not happen,” I admitted.

  “What? What? How could he get away with it? He’s a monster.” Neve turned and hugged me; the familiar smell of her shampoo and perfume was comforting and I let her hold me.

  “Kate, my police officer, said it happens. It depends on how much proof they have. Being honest, Neve, a part of me is scared that it would get to the point of there being a trial and me having to tell a court full of people everything that happened.”

  “If it gets to that Cass, everyone who loves you would be there to support you. You know that we would.”

  “I know but it might be easier if nothing happens.”

  “You can’t think like that, Cass. He has to be brought to justice. How will you be able to carry on otherwise, knowing he lives in the same town, wondering if he is going to attack you again? I’ll tell you what, he had better be hoping he gets locked up; at least he would be safe. If Flynn had seen him last night, I swear he would have killed him. I’ve never seen him that angry, Cass.” The mention of Flynn’s name made me jump and Neve pulled back to look me in the eye.

  “Don’t, Neve. I can’t.” I looked away, not able to give her what she wanted.

  “OK, for now. But you can’t do this forever, Cass.” She paused. “I’m seeing Jake tonight so better get going. Do you want me to come round again tomorrow?”

  “Please. I’m looking after Sylvie again in the morning so do you want to come round after lunch? We can sort out my school work.”

  “OK, babe.” With a kiss on my cheek, Neve jumped off the bed and looked at her watch. “Bloody hell. I’ve only got an hour to make myself beautiful. Start praying!”

  “How’s it going with Jake?” I asked when we got to the front door, feeling bad that we had only been talking about me.

  “Kind of good. He has lots of weird shit going on at home which makes things difficult but, when it’s just the two of us, it’s amazeballs!” The smile on Neve’s face was testament to how happy she was.

  “I’m glad, Neve. You deserve it.”

  “So do you, Cass.”

  “Neve,” I warned.

  “OK, I know. See you tomorrow.” And with a quick goodbye shouted to Sylvie, she was gone.

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  As promised, Neve arrived after lunch, armed with her laptop and a bag bulging with books. Before I could take her upstairs, she went straight into the lounge.

  “Hi Sylvie! Do you want to watch The Great British Bake Off with you and Cass?” Neve’s question was answered with a series of squeals as Sylvie jumped up and down on the sofa. Mum looked at me quizzically.

  “Neve filmed us making the cakes yesterday,” I answered with a grimace.

  “You were both great, but Sylvie is a real superstar on screen,” Neve chimed in. “I edited it this morning. It looks really good, if I do say so myself,” she added with a smirk. Setting up the laptop so that we all could see it, she opened the file and pressed play.

  The familiar opening titles from the programme played, followed by a shot of our kitchen. I couldn’t believe what Neve had managed to do; she had cut bits of the real show with the footage that she had taken so that it felt like we were watching an actual episode, albeit slightly less polished. Mum was laughing throughout and Sylvie was pointing out every detail of her performance. I silently mouthed a thank you to Neve over their heads.

  That feeling of gratitude disappeared shortly afterwards though, when, after Neve’s voiceover declared that it was judging time, the screen cut to a shot of Jake and Flynn in the Peters’ kitchen. The glare I shot at Neve was answered only with a brief shrug of the shoulders whilst Sylvie pointed out who the judges were, as though I hadn’t noticed.

  Jake was hamming it up, acting more like Simon Cowell than a judge on a cookery show as he declared the cupcakes made by Sylvie to be the winner, but my eyes were just drawn to Flynn. He looked beautiful. I recognised the shirt he was wearing as the one he had worn when we went for the meal on his last night before Uni, the moment of recollection squeezing at my heart. His hair was falling onto his forehead as if pointing at his eyes, their blue intensified to a sapphire shade by the screen. It felt like he was staring straight down the camera at me, trying to see me through the lens. Taking a bite from a cupcake Sylvie had made, a glob of the lurid pink icing caught on his upper lip. When his tongue snaked out to lick it away, I felt a jolt and that familiar warmth flood through me. Smiling straight at us, he ate the mouthful before declaring it to be cupcake perfection. Sylvie whooped with excitement. Flynn then picked up one of my cookies and broke a chunk off. After eating it slowly, not once breaking eye contact, he drew a dramatic breath.

  “Well, as marvellous as the cupcake was, that was divine. The chocolate taste was wonderful, melting into my mouth like a warm kiss on a winter’s day.” My cheeks grew warm at the reminder of our Minstrels-flavoured kissing, prompting a knowing look from Mum. “And there’s something a bit more complex about cookies, they’re not quite as obvious as cupcakes,” he added with a smile that made me believe that he was referring to something other than the baking. “I have to disagree Jake, for me the winner is the cookie maker.” Neve’s voiceover declared that, for the first time in the show’s history, there was a draw and both contestants would be proceeding to the next round. Sylvie yelped with excitement, not really caring that she hadn’t won, as Neve paused the film.

  “That was wonderful, Neve. You’re very clever,” Mum praised.

  “Oh, it’s quite easy. I enjoyed having a reason to play with the software. But thank you.”

  “It was, Neve. You ought to show it to Ms Morris.” Ms Morris was our Media Studies teacher and was always encouraging us to try creative projects outside of lessons.

  “I will, although she’ll probably point out some of the dodgy editing. Shall we go sort out your work now?” We picked up Neve’s things and, after grabbing a couple of cans of pop and a bag of crisps from the kitchen, went up to my room.

  We sat at right angles on the bed, the pile of books between us, Florence + the Machine playing in the background. Neve talked me t
hrough the work that had been set by my teachers; the amount made it clear that they weren’t expecting me back for at least a week. I gave Neve a couple of essays that were due in and a book that had to be returned to the library. We made arrangements for a couple of study dates in the week so that we could swap notes and I could give her work to hand in to my teachers.

  “I’m sorry I sprung that video on you earlier. I thought that, if I told you that he was on it, you wouldn’t watch it.” Neve was playing with her hair, a sure sign of nervousness.

  “I thought it was going to be your mum and dad?”

  “They went out before I was up. When I mentioned it to Flynn, he was straight on the phone to Jake. I didn’t have much choice but to go with it. And, when I saw how funny they were, I thought it would be a shame not to use it. And Sylvie would have been disappointed.” Neve threw the last statement in knowing that she had a trump card in Sylvie.

  “I understand. It just threw me, seeing him. That was all.” I couldn’t admit how much it had unsettled me and the physical response it had rekindled.

  “Seeing you had the same impact on him,” Neve admitted. I turned on her immediately.

  “What do you mean, seeing me?” I could feel a knot of anger forming in my chest.

  “Well, it was pretty obvious that there must be footage of you and I couldn’t say no when he asked, could I?” The knot tightened, making it difficult to breathe.

  “Yes, you could. You didn’t have my permission for that, Neve. He knew you would be showing his part to me but I didn’t get the chance to say no. You didn’t give me a choice.” I had started crying and had lost control of my voice. “You shouldn’t have done that, Neve. It’s not fair. I should be allowed to say no. I should be the one who decides what can and can’t happen to me.” Mum appeared from nowhere and pulled me into a hug, making soothing noises into my hair. Neve stood by the bed, tears in her eyes.

  “Maybe you should go now, Neve,” Mum suggested as my heaving sobs continued.

  “OK. I’m sorry, Cass. I didn’t mean to upset you. Ring me when you want to.” Neve left, closing my bedroom door behind her. Mum stroked my back, trying to calm me, telling me that it was all going to be OK. Once I had calmed down, she tugged the duvet over me and lay next to me, her arms still holding me close.

  “You’re going to be OK, Cass. I promise you.” I knew she couldn’t really promise that but appreciated how much she cared.

  “Thanks Mum. I’m OK now. I feel bad for losing it with Neve.” There was still a hiccupping rhythm to my voice.

  “She’ll understand, Cass. Don’t worry. Do you want anything?”

  “I just want to sleep again. Can you wake me when it’s time for tea?”

  “Of course, love. Shout if you need anything.” With a kiss on my forehead, she left me. I wanted to sleep. To forget. To turn back time.

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  I had lost them all.

  Every reason to get out of bed and function.

  I mean, what was the point? I wasn’t allowed to go to school. The shop was suddenly, miraculously, able to function without my presence. And normality had been suspended in every relationship I had. Even Sylvie, who knew nothing about what had happened, had started to use a careful tone of voice when talking to me, as though I was a child who couldn’t be upset.

  So I lay there, safe in my cocoon of CBA.

  Wallowing.

  Nobody could judge me. It was like when someone dies, and nobody is allowed to admit that maybe that person did have some less-than-perfect character traits. Maybe they weren’t always the saintly hero they had become in death.

  What would people say about me if I died?

  Who cared?

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  Subject: ‘Without You’ (Harry Nilsson, not Mariah Carey)

  Scarlett,

  I can’t function properly without you. Please get in touch.

  Ark without animals

  Beatles without John Lennon

  Cups without saucers

  Dogs without cats

  Earbuds without an iPod

  Flynn without Cass

  Guitar without strings

  House without a door

  Ink without a pen

  Jelly without wobble

  King without a crown

  Legs without feet

  Minstrels without kisses

  Night without stars

  Omelette without eggs

  Piano without keys

  Quavers without the cheese flavour

  River without the sea

  Shakespeare without words

  Trees without seasons

  Umbrella without rain

  Vinegar without salt

  Winter without snow

  Xylophone without a mallet

  You without me

  Zebra without stripes

  I miss you.

  Rhett

  xx

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  I must admit that Flynn’s email made me waver and I almost replied. I was also unable to go to sleep until I had received his text each night. Yet I knew that going back to him would be the wrong thing. I needed to be strong.

  My week had been made up of sleeping, completing my school work and looking after Sylvie when Mum dropped her off from school, so I was looking forward to the prospect of Neve coming round. I had even showered and blow-dried my hair. There hadn’t been any point bothering on the other days.

  Neve made no mention of my breakdown on Sunday and she spent a while filling me in on school gossip. I didn’t ask if anything was being said about me or Rob as I was worried what the answer might be. After sorting out the school work, we sat back on the bed, watching a couple of episodes of The Big Bang Theory online. Neve was quieter than normal but I didn’t think it fair to challenge her about it, when she was clearly respecting my privacy by not asking about Flynn.

  “So, are you still on for a study date on Friday night?” I asked her as we went downstairs.

  “Yeah. Do you fancy coming to mine?” Although nothing out of the ordinary, her question induced a degree of panic. I hadn’t been out of the house since returning from the police station and hospital on the night of the attack. Neve took my hesitation for worry about Flynn. “Flynn won’t be there. He’s not back from Uni this week.” She offered.

  “It’s not just him, Neve. I don’t feel up to going out yet. Would you mind coming here again?”

  “Course not. Same time?” I was so grateful for the easy way she went along with what I wanted.

  “Yeah. Thanks, Neve. You’re such a good mate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I hugged her, trying to convey how much she meant to me.

  “Back at ya, babe!” She replied before letting herself out.

  Going back to my room, I lay on my bed. The idea of going to Neve’s house, somewhere I had always enjoyed being, filled me with dread. Even just the idea of seeing her parents made it difficult to breathe. I knew that I couldn’t stay in the house forever but I couldn’t face the prospect of seeing people who knew what had happened. I hadn’t even managed to be in a room with just Mike, always finding a way to escape. I had worked hard on the tasks set by my teachers, almost as if to prove that I didn’t need to be at school, which was ironic when I felt angry that I hadn’t chosen to stay at home in the first place.

  But now I liked it.

  I felt safe.

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  As promised, Neve came round for our study date on Friday night. It didn’t take long to sort out the school work and catch up, especially as I had nothing new to tell her, other than Kate saying that I still couldn’t return to school yet.

  We gave each other a manicure, mainly to fill the slowly-passing time, and I felt something akin to relief when Neve yawned and said she was going to text her dad to pick her up. Wondering if things could ever return to the previous normality of conversations that lasted several hou
rs, I waved her off and gladly returned to my room.

  Alone.

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  Subject: ‘Yesterday’ (The Beatles)

  Attachment: FlynnYesterday.mp3

  Yoko,

  I realised that I hadn’t played my guitar for you yet. I can’t sing (well, not so that you would want to hear it!) so the attached file is just the melody. I think you probably already know the words – it’s one of those songs I think we are all born knowing.

  I miss you more every day.

  John

  xx

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  After downloading it to my phone and tablet, I listened non-stop to Flynn playing his guitar. There was a sad softness to it, as if I could hear his heart breaking through his fingertips. But, even when I had found the lyrics online and added them to my collage wall, along with a picture of John Lennon and Yoko Ono in bed, I still didn’t relent.

  I couldn’t.

  Not long after Sylvie arrived home from school, Kate rang and asked if she could come round ‘for an update’. I quietly explained that Sylvie was there and I was looking after her until eight so Kate agreed to pop in on her way home later that evening. The next few hours were filled with nervous dread as I played each possible outcome over and over in my mind.

  Sylvie took advantage of my distracted state to coerce me into playing Just Dance on the Wii and making hot dogs for tea which meant that, by the time I put her to bed, the feeling of nausea I had could have been attributed to a multitude of reasons.