Curve

by Nicola Hudson

  “You’re kidding me, right? Have you seen it? It’s amazing. It’s where Beyoncé stayed when she was in Birmingham!” It was apparent that Neve had already made her mind up.

  “No, I don’t know anything about it. We hadn’t discussed it. I didn’t even know it was going to be in Birmingham until his email.”

  “Oh my God, come upstairs and I’ll show you the website.” She picked up her drink and left me with no choice but to follow her. As we walked past Flynn’s door, I allowed my mind to briefly wander to the time I spent in there before forcing it to the back of my mind. We sat on Neve’s bed and she switched on her laptop. “I’ve got it here, in my favourites.” Of course she had.

  The page opened to a scrolling gallery of images of the opulent rooms. The sound of Neve’s voice pointing out details like she was an estate agent became white noise as I focussed on the beds. Two of the images featured large four poster beds, like the ones I had fantasised about as a little girl, only styled by someone with considerably more taste than a seven year old. It hit me then that this was what Flynn had planned for my first time: somewhere luxurious, somewhere truly special.

  “Look, this is a twin room so it’s what ours will be like. It’s got two double beds. The room must be huge!”

  “This must have cost him a fortune,” I whispered, more to myself than to Neve.

  “I know. That’s why he doesn’t want it to be wasted. Dad has said that he’ll give us a lift as well so we won’t have to get the train.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet, Neve,” I reminded her. She put her arms around me and squeezed me tight.

  “Please say yes, Cass. Please. We’ll have such a great time. And you deserve to do something special. It will help you to get through next week, having it to look forward to.” She had clearly been lining up counter arguments in anticipation of a negative response from me. I knew Neve well enough to know when I wasn’t going to win and, jumping on me, she almost knocked my hot chocolate out of my hand when I agreed to go.

  We spent ages planning the weekend, including Neve trying on most of her wardrobe to decide on what she would pack. Even pointing out that we would only be away for one night didn’t seem to diminish her enthusiasm. So, although we didn’t get any of the schoolwork sorted, we had a good evening that felt like the last couple of months hadn’t happened. It was just me, Neve, music and girly chat.

  Simon gave me a lift home. I knew that Neve ‘coming along for the ride’ was to make me feel more comfortable, but I had no issue around Simon. In some ways, Neve’s presence made it more difficult as I wanted to thank him for what he had done on that night. I waited until he had pulled up outside my house.

  “Simon?” I asked from the backseat, forcing him to turn round to face me.

  “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for coming round that night at the shop-”

  “There’s nothing to thank me for, Cass,” he interrupted. “Flynn was so worried, it was as much to put his mind at rest. I just wish I’d got there sooner,” he admitted.

  “Well, thank you. I won’t ever forget it.” I was getting a bit tearful by this point as the words didn’t seem enough. Thankfully Neve broke the mood.

  “OK, we are all thankful and think that each other is great. Can we move on now?” Both Simon and I laughed at her faux impatience and I got out of the car.

  I went straight to bed. Waiting for sleep to descend, I smiled as I relived the evening.

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  When I went down for breakfast, there was a bulky A4-sized envelope labelled with my name waiting on the table.

  “What’s this?” I asked Mum, who was making porridge for Sylvie.

  “I don’t know, love. Mike saw it when he went to work. It must have been put through the door last night. Do you recognise the writing?” I couldn’t really work out who the sender was as my name had been scrawled in large capital letters using a marker pen. I knew it wasn’t Neve’s writing but that was as much as I could work out.

  “No.” I paused. “You don’t think it could be something from Rob, do you?” As I recalled him taking the photo before leaving, I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope with seeing that image. Maybe even dozens of copies of that image. Mum touched my arm, seeing the panic on my face.

  “He’s not allowed to get in touch with you, Cass.” She paused. “Do you want me to open it?” I gave a slight nod of my head and held my breath as she picked up the envelope and carefully opened it at one end. “It looks like it’s some pictures,” she said as she put her hand in to pull out the contents.

  My breath was coming in spasms now, anxious at what she might see. She shook the envelope upside down and a collection of cuttings from magazines fell out onto the table. As she sifted through them, a perplexed look on her face, realisation hit me.

  It was from Flynn.

  The dozens of images told the story of us: a sofa, Shakespeare, Muse, chocolate. The words told me how he was feeling: alone, empty, desperate.

  I gathered up the pieces of paper and took them up to my room before Mum could see that I was crying. I took out a glue stick and sat cross-legged on my bed, adding that piece of Flynn’s soul to the wall where I would be able to see it when I went to sleep. He was the last thing I thought of every night anyway.

  The temptation to ring him was overpowering. I wanted to hear his voice saying my name. I wanted the sound of his laughter. I wanted to listen to him breathing. I wanted him, but knew that I couldn’t give in. Things had changed too much.

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  Flynn: Night Cass xx

  So this was the day I had been least looking forward to in a week that wasn’t exactly filled with great days in the first place.

  School on Monday had been OK. The other students clearly knew some of what had gone on but were pretty discreet around me. I knew from Neve that several had asked her about it on Facebook and Twitter, to the point that she had de-activated her account with the latter. The teachers were trying to act normal, but I caught a number of sympathetic looks being sent in my direction. Once I’d got through the first lesson with everyone things started to feel more normal; I was pretty much ignored and Neve and I were able to spend our study periods together in the library, undisturbed.

  Valentine’s Day itself started with a card from Neve, a ritual we had carried out for years, and one from Sylvie.

  When I got to school, Neve was hyper about the card and bunch of heart-shaped balloons that had been hand-delivered by Jake that morning before she left; they were going out for dinner that evening and so she hadn’t expected to see him. It made me wonder what Flynn might have done if we had still been together. I didn’t see him as the roses and chocolates type. Well, not in the typical way. But a small part of me had hoped that there would be a card from him that morning.

  There wasn’t.

  By that evening, I was bored with everything linked to St. Valentine, especially as I was in my bedroom hiding from the romantic evening currently taking place between Mum and Mike downstairs.

  More to distract myself than anything else, I got myself ready for the trip to Birmingham. To a soundtrack of disco classics, I plucked, moisturised, conditioned and painted everywhere, and also managed to select the clothes that I thought would see me through whatever Neve had planned.

  By ten o clock I was ready, just thirty six hours too early. I lay in bed and switched on my tablet. Allowing myself to hope that there would be something from Flynn, I opened my email inbox.

  Nothing.

  I knew that my feelings were completely contrary; I had ignored every effort he had made to get in touch. But that was just on the outside. I wanted him desperately. I missed pretty much everything about him. I loved him.

  I loved him.

  I realised that this depth of feeling could only be love. And there was the irony. I had only realised what I felt for him whe
n it was too late. Unless I was to become some sad, old cat lady, I needed to find a way of moving forwards. Like Mum had said, I couldn’t let these things define me.

  I switched my phone to silent, determined to get to sleep before Flynn’s goodnight text.

  The next morning I looked at my phone before I even got out of bed.

  No text.

  Worried, I checked my inbox.

  And saw the email sent at 00:01, as soon as Valentine’s Day had ended. Fuck.

  Subject: ‘Open Your Eyes’ (Snow Patrol)

  Psyche,

  Did you know that valentines originate from the letter Valentinus sent to his lover before his execution? It’s weird that something so sad has become what it has, full of naff clichés and over-priced gifts.

  Yet, however much I dislike the card-shop crap that surrounds today, I have spent so much of the day thinking about you, about us, about love. Because I love you Cass.

  I love you.

  This is not the way I imagined telling you, but it seems that this is the only way I can. I don’t even know if you read these emails - you could just be deleting them. But I believe you read them. I have to believe it. So this is my valentine to you.

  I love you.

  When we were together (and it seems that I now need to use the past tense to write about us), I couldn’t believe that you were with me. I had liked you for so long and then, all of a sudden, it happened. We were together. I have tried to think back to the start of it all, because I know, for me, dancing with you at the party wasn’t the start. When I saw the posts on Facebook about what was going on, I was selfish. I wasn’t thinking I could be your knight in shining armour, but that if I stopped it happening, you might notice me as more than Neve’s brother. So I took the opportunity.

  I wonder how far back in time the start was. There are so many memories involving you that it is hard to work out when like turned to more than that. I know it was there when you came back drunk on Neve’s 17th birthday. You looked beautiful, if a bit tipsy, and I couldn’t stop looking at you. I can still remember the smile you gave me when I took the blame for the mess.

  I know something was there when the table collapsed when we were playing The Game of Life one Christmas. I think I was in Year 11 then. Can you remember it? When we all tried to jump out of the way as it broke, you collided with me. It was probably two seconds long at most, but that moment of you being in my arms turned me on so much. I had to go upstairs as everyone would have seen the effect you had on me.

  The last few years of my life can be measured in moments spent with you. Yet you were completely unaware. Oblivious.

  Imagine what it felt like to be me on Boxing Day night. There I was, finally sat next to the girl of my dreams and I hadn’t got a clue about how to make the first move. I was so worried that I would scare you off. I almost chickened out as I didn’t want to risk you rejecting me. Despite how things have turned out, those few weeks were the best days of my life Cass. They will stay with me forever.

  I love you.

  But because I love you, I can’t carry on like this. It hurts too much. I read somewhere that grief hurts as much as it is worth. I understand that now - this hurts so much because it means so much. But that doesn’t make it any easier.

  Know that I want to be with you.

  Believe that I will always be there for you.

  But there won’t be any more texts or emails. I can’t put myself through it.

  I miss you.

  I want you.

  I love you.

  Cupid

  xx

  I struggled to get through the day, spending most of it on a tearful cliff edge, ready to jump. Both Mum and Neve asked what was wrong but didn’t pursue the questioning in the face of my obvious unwillingness to discuss it. I spent my lessons completely distracted, just thinking about Flynn’s email. I spent my study period sat in the girls’ loo, re-reading Flynn’s email on my phone. And wondering what I should do.

  His revelations about having liked me for so long surprised me, especially as he hadn’t said anything about it when we were going out. I hadn’t really thought about him as more than Neve’s brother until that night at the party. Of course I knew he was good looking and funny, but I really hadn’t considered him in that way.

  But he loved me.

  He loved me.

  There was a part of me that was pissed off that I had found this out by email; any fantasies involving those words being said for the first time had certainly not involved a computer screen. But the fact that he loved me, and that he had admitted it, made me wonder if I had been wrong about cutting him out of my life.

  As I re-read his words, I thought about what he had been going through for the past few weeks. I had obviously been a selfish cow as, up to that point, I hadn’t really considered what Flynn was feeling, well, beyond a superficial acknowledgement that he was upset. Yet, even as I thought all of this, I knew I had to respect his decision to sever the last strands of communication that bound us to each other.

  Back at home, I lay on my bed, looking at the words and images he had sent me, now an integral part of my collage. I listened to the songs he had included in the subject lines, absorbing the emotion of each lyric.

  I cried for me.

  I cried for him.

  Thankful that I had already packed for Birmingham, I told Mum that I had a headache and texted Neve the same excuse. I hid under my covers until sleep overtook the tears.

  Neve did an admirable job of raising my spirits the next day and she almost managed to go the whole day without mentioning Flynn’s name. There had even been times when I managed to forget about him and the email.

  When we arrived at Malmaison, Simon had parked the car and helped us check in. I was secretly glad that he did as I felt so out of place. The lobby was a trendily dark oasis of deep leather seats and ambient chillout music. He dealt with the receptionist who looked like a Brazilian supermodel; I would have been intimidated just talking to her.

  “OK, girls, you’re in room 212. Here are your keys,” he said, handing each of us what looked like a bank card. “They’ve got my credit card details in case you need it. That doesn’t mean you can go mad, but it’s there in case you decide not to go out tonight and want to order room service.” He smiled at both of us. “Have a great time. Text me when you’re ready to go tomorrow, Neve. I’m bringing your mum in so we will probably do a bit of shopping. You have to check out of here by twelve. OK?” He gave Neve a hug and then, after a momentary pause, hugged me too. “Enjoy yourselves!” As he left, Neve and I turned to each other and grinned.

  The room was beyond belief. It overlooked the canals and had two double beds covered in black and magenta velvet bedcovers, each piled high with pillows. The rest of the furniture was a mix of black wood and velvet stripes in shades of grey, black and pink. I had never seen anything so luxurious.

  And then I saw the bathroom. The whole room was covered in slate tiles and the shower cubicle had dozens of small jets fitted into the wall, along with the biggest shower head I had ever seen. There was a Jacuzzi bath and even a television screen in the mirror. Wow.

  Neve was her usual self, squealing at every new freaking discovery. She bagged the bed closest to the window and sprawled out.

  “Oh my god, this is amazing! Can you believe that we are staying here?” Neve laughed. “It’s almost tempting to just stay in here for the whole time!” I noticed the ‘almost’ in her statement.

  “It is fantastic, isn’t it?” I agreed. “Do you think that there are people who aren’t impressed by all of this?” I wondered, waving my arm to encompass the room.

  “I don’t know. I suppose so. There are rich people whose houses are probably this posh. Oh look, we can plug my iPhone into the stereo.” She connected her phone and soon we were sat in the plush armchairs people-watching out of the window whilst Christina Perri played in the background. Arms had been one of my most played songs in recent weeks and when I heard th
e first few notes play, I got up.

  “I’m going to the loo and then I think we should go and explore.” I shut the bathroom door behind me and ran the tap to drown out the music. For Neve’s sake, as much as my own, I didn’t want to end up depressed. Getting out of the room, where I was supposed to have been with Flynn, would help.

  We walked around The Mailbox for a while, putting on fake posh voices when talking to each other as we mooched in shops we could never afford to do more than look in. We even popped into Harvey Nichols, leaving in utter disbelief that people could afford to pay three thousand pounds for the handbag we had both admired. After a coffee in a canal-side café, we went back to the hotel and spent a few hours lazily getting ready for the evening.

  Thankful that some of the dining choices were a bit more in our price range than the shops, we didn’t have to go far to get something to eat. Dressed up as much as Neve and I do dressed up, we strolled through the shopping arcade before opting for a restaurant that looked casually smart. The host led us to a table in the window, giving us the perfect place to people-watch. Trying to be glamorous, each of us ordered a cocktail to go with our meal. We drank them, even though mine tasted like mouthwash and Neve was convinced that hers was made of window cleaner. The alcohol gave me a warm buzz and we were laughing at anything by the time we left.

  When we got back to the hotel room, we got ready for bed and made a hot chocolate. Sat on our respective beds, we each checked our phones. Other than a message from Mum that afternoon, I hadn’t received anything. Not even an email. I couldn’t stop myself re-reading Flynn’s goodbye message whilst Neve had a quick text chat with Jake.

  “So, how serious is it with Jake?” I asked, knowing that I hadn’t been as involved with their relationship as a best friend should be.