Chapter Twenty-one
I woke the next morning with a throbbing head. It felt unfair as I hadn’t even had any of the spiked punch last night. I heaved myself out of bed and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror opposite. Peering back at me was a blotchy face with dark circles under bloodshot eyes. ‘Perfect English rose,’ I told my reflection. ‘Wilting and eaten by greenfly.’
I cast my mind back to the party. After I’d seen Finn and Tracey, Effy and Tash had rallied round and done their best to cheer me up. I tried to put a brave face on, like, oh I don’t care, but they saw through it and I felt a killjoy after all the effort they’d put in.
‘He would have done your head in anyway,’ Effy’d said as we cleared up the debris after people had gone.
‘You have to let love go,’ Tash had said as she gave me a big hug. ‘Let it go and if it comes back to you, great. If not, it wasn’t meant to be.’
‘Not meant to be then,’ I’d said as I dumped a pile of paper plates in a bin.
Finn and Tracey had disappeared soon after the bathroom incident, taking with them any feeling of excitement I’d felt earlier at the party. Owen had made himself scarce too and I felt his absence just as strongly. He was one of my best friends and I’d hurt him as much as Finn had hurt me. Ben must have disappeared too because I don’t remember seeing him later either.
Love sucks, I thought as I splashed my face with water. Maybe my outfit had been the problem. I should have worn something more revealing, more seductive, gone as a femme fatale like some of the other girls, and then maybe Finn wouldn’t have gone off with someone else. Edwardian governess? Hardly hot. What boy wants to snog Mary Poppins when there’s a scantily clad five-star babe like Tracey in the vicinity?
As I got dressed, I tried to tell myself that Finn wasn’t mine anyway. We weren’t in a relationship, so what was my problem? I felt wretched about Owen too. I wished I could feel for him what I felt for Finn. What was wrong with me? Owen was a boy I liked and who liked me so why was I so hung up on another boy who clearly wasn’t into me and appeared to collect girls like other boys collected CDs?
Because Finn’d flirted with me, that’s why. And when he did, I’d felt alive, like we could have had something special. Argh. I have been an idiot. I am so over you, Finn O’Brady, I told myself. End of. Amen. Fini.
Maybe it’s true, my mind nattered on. Just as Betty said. I have the belief that love is unrequited on my brain, and like poor old Henrietta, I will always be alone.
‘No.’ I told my reflection. ‘I am not Henrietta. I am me. Jo. And I will find love. I will. Someone who doesn’t mess with my head. I am not going to give in to loser mode.’ For the briefest second, I had the weirdest sensation. I was looking in the mirror but someone else was looking back at me. A girl with dark hair like me, but a different face. It was the girl I’d seen in my hypnosis session lying on the bed.
I bent over and splashed my face with cold water and looked in the mirror again. She’d gone. I’m just tired, I told myself. Imagining things after an overemotional night. ‘I am not Henrietta,’ I said out loud.
A knock at my door made me almost jump out of my skin. Mum opened the door. ‘Who are you talking to?’ she asked.
‘No-one. Er . . . myself.’
Mum shrugged. ‘You haven’t opened your pile of cards from last night,’ she said, handing me a small stash of envelopes.
Had Finn left one? I wondered as I ripped the envelopes open. Maybe written an apology. How would I feel about that? Would it make everything all right?
Mum went down to make us some tea while I ripped open the cards. Lots of lovely birthday greetings from friends. I came to the last card. Would this be the one from Finn?
The card was a black and white shot of children playing with balloons on the Heath, their laughing faces upturned to the sky. A happy photograph taken on a summer’s day. I looked at the back. As I’d thought, it was one of Ben Fraser’s. I looked inside.
Wishing you happy birthday.
Maybe we could meet up sometime? Ben 07776868000
Sweet, I thought but I couldn’t really appreciate it. I was too disappointed that there was nothing from Finn.
My mobile bleeped that I had a message and then another one. I pulled my phone out and glanced at the screen. The first was from Owen.
I will always be there for you, Owen X
Owen, I thought as I remembered that he’d said he wanted to talk. What am I going to do about you? I can’t bear the thought that I might hurt you more than I have already.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw that the second text was from Finn.
It wasn’t what it seemed. Call me. Finn.
Yeah sure, I thought as I switched the phone off and sat on my bed. You might cause a major meltdown inside of me, Finn O’Brady, but are you worth it?
Five minutes later, I turned my phone on and read the message again. Despite my earlier resolutions, I was intrigued to know what lame excuse he was going to come out with. Should I text back or call? I wondered. Or should I leave it a day or two, or a week even, to show I really am cool and don’t care. I could call then and say, oh yeah, you texted? Sorry. Been busy . . . But can I wait that long? I want to know now what he has to say. Effy’s words from the night before came back to me. ‘He’ll do your head in,’ she’d said. Already happening, I thought. Argh. What to do? Be strong. No boy wants an emotional wreck. I know what I’ll do. I’ll show you just how unaffected I am by you, Finn O’Brady.
I picked up Ben’s card, went back to my phone and called his number before I could change my mind.
Chapter Twenty-two
I’d arranged to see Ben in Costa in Highgate village. He was already there when I arrived, seated at a bar stool at the window overlooking the street.
‘You recovered from the party?’ he asked as I took the stool next to him.
‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘Well recovered.’ I meant from Finn not just the party. ‘You left early?’
Ben shrugged but didn’t elaborate. I wondered if I’d imagined his face when he saw how upset I was over Finn, but he wasn’t giving anything away. He asked what I’d like from the counter and went off to get me a drink.
‘I liked your photos,’ I said when he came back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and a huge slice of carrot cake with lemon icing and two forks. ‘The ones in the exhibition.’
‘Thanks.’ He half smiled. ‘You like carrot cake?’
‘My favourite actually.’ I wasn’t lying.
Ben handed me a fork. ‘Mine too. Tuck in.’
‘And . . . about you sitting with me all those years ago. Back in junior school. I never got to thank you.’
Ben shrugged again. ‘No need. Anyway, long time ago, hey?’
‘It was just after my dad died. We never spoke so you must have wondered what it was all about.’
‘I figured something like that. I seem to remember hearing about it. You know how news travels at school.’
‘I liked that you didn’t say much. Everyone was telling me that I should eat. I should talk. I should feel this or that. You didn’t. You were just with me, you let me be and that’s what I needed. I know it’s a few years late but thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
We both stared out of the window for a while as if we were wondering what to say next.
About the article . . .’ we said at the same time, then laughed.
‘You start,’ said Ben.
‘OK. So. Yes. You asked what angle I was going to take. I thought I’d just write up the clairvoyants Effy and I visited without giving my opinion, just state the facts and let the reader decide.’
‘And the facts are?’
I laughed. ‘Hah. Bit of a muddle really. Some of them went on about past lives I’d supposedly had. I’m not sure where I stand on that. What do you think?’
‘I think we live, we die. All we can be sure about is that we’re alive now.’
‘So you don’t
believe in reincarnation then?’
‘I don’t,’ he said, then he smiled. I liked him when he smiled, like he lit up from inside. ‘Imagine what chaos it would be if we all remembered our past lives.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Oh, like ... say someone who’d done something in a past life, like a writer or artist, who’d died in poverty then later their work became really successful, what if they remembered who they were and wanted to cash in on it?’
‘Like who?’
‘Umm . . . like Jane Austen. She had moderate success when she was alive but who hasn’t heard of her now? Her books must have sold millions since she died, not to mention the film and TV adaptations. What if she was back in this life, remembered that she was Jane and wanted her royalties?’
I laughed. ‘Yes. Wow. I see what you mean. Publishers would freak but then, how would you prove it to them?’
‘Exactly It’s an interesting notion,’ Ben continued.
‘So who else?’ I asked. ‘Imagine who else might be back and who as?’
‘Your turn’ said Ben.
‘OK, give me a name.’
‘St Francis of Assissi.’
‘Obvi,’I replied.’A vet.’
Ben laughed out loud. ‘Lancelot and Guinevere?’
‘They’d run a dating agency’
Ben laughed again and as we drank our drinks and chatted away, I realised there was more to him than the ‘scowler’.
‘What about God? Do you believe in God?’ I asked.
‘Wow. Heavy stuff for a Sunday morning.’
‘It’s because it’s Sunday,’ I said. ‘Do you believe in God?’
‘I have a theory about God,’ said Ben. ‘I think there are three gods. Brothers, in fact. God the good – he made the flowers and the sunsets and all that kind of stuff. God the bad. He’s nasty and is the one who made wasps. I mean what’s the point of them?’
‘And sharks,’ I said.
‘Yeah and sharks,’ agreed Ben.
‘What about the third one?’
‘God the stupid,’ said Ben. ‘Not as bright as the other two. Everything he made is flawed, hence all the cock-ups on the planet.’
This time it was my turn to laugh out loud. ‘Good theory,’ I said. ‘I like that.’ I was beginning to like Ben now that I was getting to know the real him. He was funny and quirky. It was like I was seeing him properly for the first time. He had kind, intelligent eyes, eyes that were looking into mine, searching. For a moment, we connected and I felt a sweet lurch deep inside of me. It felt so intense and unexpected that I had to look away.
I picked up my fork and cut a small piece of carrot cake. ‘Um . . . Do you have a girlfriend, Ben?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Direct, aren’t you?’
‘Just I saw you one day buying flowers,’ I said and pointed out the window towards the florist’s.
‘That must have been for my mum’s birthday,’ he said. ‘Have you been checking up on me?’
‘No, just asking.’
‘Well, no, I don’t have a girlfriend. What about you?’ Ben asked.
‘Do I have a girlfriend?’ I teased.
‘No. Boyfriend ... I got the impression you like Finn.’
‘No way. He’d do my head in.’
‘Yours and plenty others.’
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘I like being single anyway. Love does your head in.’
Ben nodded. ‘Exactly my sentiments.’
‘One of the clairvoyants said I have it imprinted on my subconscious mind that love is painful.’
A look of sadness flashed across Ben’s face. ‘It can be if the person you like doesn’t feel the same or doesn’t even notice you.’
I studied his face. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me and Finn or about himself. ‘Or someone you love dies,’ I said. ‘I think the clairvoyant might have been right but it wasn’t as . . . er . . . complicated as she was making out. Simple truth is that I lost someone close when I was very young. That sort of thing is bound to affect you, isn’t it?’ I was surprised I was talking to Ben like this. Saying things that were really private. He reached over, took my hand and squeezed it like he understood. Time to change the subject, I decided. It suddenly felt too intimate. ‘So what about your photos for the article then?’
‘I’m going to take a whole range,’ he replied, letting go of my hand. ‘Finn will probably only use one or two but I might do a whole load. I like the theme.’
At the mention of Finn again, I felt my stomach turn over. I wished I could never see him again but there was no chance of that while we were on the Chillaxin team together. I am not going to think about you, Finn O’Brady, I told myself. I glanced over at Ben. He knew Finn well. Maybe he’d have some advice.
‘Ben?’
‘Yeah?’
‘What would you do if you met someone and . . . it wasn’t exactly working out or, that is, you don’t know what’s going on.’
‘Who?’
‘Oh, just someone I’ve met recently. I like him but don’t know how to tell him in case he doesn’t feel the same way.’
Ben studied me. ‘Someone you’ve met recently, you say?’
I nodded. ‘I feel like I’ve had enough of all the negative stuff about how love can do your head in and being afraid to let something happen. Sometimes you have to take a chance, yeah?’
Ben thought for a few moments and I swear he blushed. Just slightly. ‘Yes. I think you do. You should tell him how you feel. You might find out he’s been feeling the same way. Boys fear rejection just as much as girls, you know.’
Our eyes locked together again but we were interrupted by the sound of my mobile. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was Effy.
‘Go ahead,’ said Ben indicating that I should take the call.
‘Where are you?’ Effy asked as soon as I picked up.
‘Highgate.’ I motioned to Ben that I was going to take the call outside. He nodded.
‘Are you alone?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ I said once I’d got outside.
‘I need to talk to you about Finn.’
‘I’m so over him, Effy. And you don’t need to worry.’ I glanced back at Ben inside the café. I’d felt something in there. Unexpected but undeniable. ‘I’m not pining or wallowing in misery over that loser.’
‘No. We got it wrong. It wasn’t what it seemed last night.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I found out what happened. Apparently Tracey had drunk a bucketload before she came to the party. She was well out of her head by the time she got to us. Finn was in the loo when she banged on the door to be let in and when he opened the door, she rushed in and puked her guts out. Then she tried to snog him.’
‘Ew.’
‘I know. Ew. Anyway, after that, he took her home. So actually, even though I hate to admit it, he was the hero last night.’
I didn’t know what to say; how could I have got it so wrong.
‘Jo? Jo, are you there?’ Effy’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
‘Yes, I... Oh hell.’
‘Why oh hell? Isn’t this a good thing?’
‘Yes, it is, it’s just... I’m in Highgate with Ben.’
‘Ben, bass player Ben?’
‘Yes.’
‘What are you doing with him?’
‘I. . .’ I glanced back inside. ‘Nothing. I... I don’t know.’ I didn’t know. I was beginning to like Ben. He was fun and had interesting ideas. I liked that too and I’d felt a connection back in the café. I was sure he’d felt it too. But then I’d been sure that there’d been a connection with Finn as well I’d got it wrong about him and Tracey. Maybe there was a chance for us after all. I glanced back at the café. Ben was watching me, then turned away.
‘Listen, Effy, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, OK?’ I hung up the phone before Effy could launch her inquisition about why I was out with Ben. I went back into the café. ‘I’m going to take a chance, Ben.
I’m going to tell the boy how I feel,’ I said as I sat next to him.
Ben took a sharp intake of breath, looked away then back at me. ‘. . . OK.’
‘Thanks for your advice,’ I continued. ‘It really helped. I’m going to call him when I get home.’
‘Call him?’
‘Yes. I suppose you might as well know. It’s Finn. I know he has loads of girls interested in him, but I have to take a chance.’
Ben’s face changed suddenly. The open expression he’d had earlier closed shut. ‘Of course,’ he said as he turned away slightly and shook his head. ‘Finn.’
As I left the café, I felt more mixed up than ever. Finn wasn’t with Tracey after all. That’s good, isn’t it? I asked myself. So why do I feel weird? I should have felt happier about it but something deep inside of me felt regret, like I’d said or done the wrong thing. Was it because I’d felt something starting to happen with Ben? I turned back to see if he was watching me go. His seat was empty.
Chapter Twenty-three
By the time my next hypnotherapy appointment came round the week after my party, I felt that I needed a session purely to relax. I hadn’t been sleeping again, not because of the recurring dream I’d had previously, but because I’d started having a new dream. I was on a game show and had to decide between three boys: Owen, Ben or Finn. It was driving me mad. Owen had gone back to university but had sent me an email saying that he’d like to get together next time he was back. I’d emailed Finn to say I was sorry I hadn’t got to spend more time with him at the party and he’d replied saying we should get together soon. And Ben . . . He kept popping up in my thoughts. There was something about him that had got to me.
‘And what about past lives, Jo? Have you given that any more thought?’ asked Fiona as I settled onto the couch.
‘Sort of but honestly, I don’t know what to think. I’ve been feeling a bit crazy lately, like I don’t know who I am any more or what’s real. Plus I’ve had too much drama going on in this life to have any time to worry about past lives.’
Love at Second Sight Page 13
