The State of Me

by Nasim Marie Jafry

  Good, I said, I’ll come with you, if that’s okay.

  Sure, said Ivan. We’ll pick you up.

  I felt someone prod me gently. It was Fabio. Sorry about what I said in the kitchen, Helen. I didn’t mean anything by it. Let me take you for dinner next week to make it up to you.

  That would be nice, I said.

  What’s your number?

  I asked Ivan for a pen. There’s one in my room, he said.

  Come with me if you want.

  I followed him through.

  Looby, you can’t go out with Fabio, he said.

  Can I have the pen, please? I’m just going for dinner, I’m not going to marry him.

  Wendy says he kisses his mother on the lips.

  Wendy’s a witch, she makes things up. Anyway, I like men that look after their mothers.

  Ivan took my hand and pulled me towards him. I would like to kiss you on the lips.

  Don’t! I said. You’re such an imp. A big drunk bastard imp.

  He kissed me on the forehead. Sorry.

  I’m going to go for dinner with Fabio, I said. Maybe he’ll redeem himself.

  What did he say to offend you?

  Just the usual, I said.

  A non-believer, Looby. Just what you need.

  You’re in no position to judge anyone, I said.

  I’m just the big bastard imp who helps you all the time.

  That’s not fair, you know how grateful I am. Just tell me the truth, are you screwing Wendy?

  We’ve slept together a few times, he said, but she’s more serious about me than I am about her.

  I knew you were sleeping with her, I said.

  I still don’t think she’s over her old boyfriend.

  Well, we all know how that feels, don’t we? I said, snatching the pen from him and going back through to the living room. Ivan followed a few minutes later.

  You were a long time getting a pen, said Wendy.

  Fuck off, Wendy. (Into myself.)

  While Fabio was writing my number on the back of his hand, Jab appeared with his coat on and said he was leaving. He asked me if I was coming.

  I’ll call you next week, said Fabio, putting his hand on my shoulder.

  Ivan saw me to the door and tried to hug me. Go back to your girlfriend, I said.

  I felt on a high as I got into Jab’s car, but by the time we got back to the flat the high was punctured. You and Ivan have a strange relationship, said Jab as I was getting out.

  I know, I said.

  Is he with Wendy now?

  Kind of. I don’t know.

  She is so pasty and white, said Jab. Not my type at all.

  Wight, Jab, thanks for the lift, I said.

  I went to bed, slightly excited about Fabio but torturing myself with Wendy. I couldn’t sleep for ages.

  When I woke up the next day I was happy because I’d see Ivan when he took me to the supermarket.

  He phoned at three to say he was too hung-over to shop, but Wendy would still take me if I wanted. I needed to get heavy stuff and Rez wasn’t around, so I accepted her offer.

  She barely spoke to me in the car. I’ll just get you at the exit, she said as the automatic doors of the supermarket snapped shut behind us.

  She shopped like a robot, she knew where everything was. I felt rushed. I just couldn’t imagine her having sex with Ivan, or being sexually excited by anyone. She was just too deft.

  I can’t believe I’m nervous about going on a date with a man who has a cord jacket with leather trims. I’ve quizzed Rez about him, but he doesn’t know anything, and I can’t ask Ivan, and certainly not Wendy.

  I’m meeting him for pizza after work. My legs are weak.

  I’m ten minutes early. I’ve brought a book to appear nonchalant but I can’t absorb the words. I play with the carnation in the centre of the table, twirling the stem between my thumb and fingers. I check my lipstick (again) to make sure there’s none on my teeth. My heart’s pounding.

  I feel myself blushing when I see him come in. He’s early too. He looks good in his suit, but as he gets closer I see he has a golf magazine under his arm. My heart sinks.

  He seems nervous. Hi, he says. He has just brushed his teeth.

  Hi.

  Been here long?

  Ten minutes, I say. I’m always too early for things. I dread being late.

  Me too. I see you’ve brought a book – did you think I was going to be boring?!

  Of course not. (I say nothing about the golf magazine, I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot.)

  He smiles. Would you like a drink?

  Sparkling mineral water, please.

  His hands are shaking when he picks up the menu. I can’t bear it. He’s less confident than he was at the party but he has warm eyes.

  I tried to fix the table before you got here, I say. It’s really shoogly.

  Fabio folds up the napkin again, more tightly, and puts it back under the leg. Statically indeterminate, he says, as he sits down.

  Is that engineering speak for shoogly?

  He laughs. That’s better, he says, checking that the table is steady.

  The waitress comes over and takes the drinks order. Fabio orders a Stella Artois and my water.

  What are you having to eat? he asks.

  Think I’ll have the Neopolitan.

  Pizzas here are great, he says, very authentic.

  Do you have Italian blood? I ask.

  My dad was Italian. He died when I was five. My mum’s Scottish.

  That’s sad, I say. What happened?

  Brain haemorrhage. I hardly remember him.

  You don’t look Italian, I say, you seem too blonde, though you have dark eyes.

  I take after my mother more.

  Fabio’s a lovely name. What’s your last name?

  Pucci.

  Fabio Pucci – you sound like a film star!

  What’s yours?

  Fleet.

  Helen Fleet. You sound like a detective, he says, smiling.

  I smile back. So how are your bridges?

  I’m going to be involved in the new Skye bridge in a few months, it’s an exciting project. How’s your salad distribution?

  I don’t know why I lied, I say. I just get so fed up explaining what I do, I’ve decided to make stuff up.

  Everyone should have their secrets, he says. He takes a sip of beer – I didn’t know you went out with Ivan for five years.

  You’re the detective! I say. Did Wendy tell you?

  My lips are sealed, he says.

  Wendy must’ve told you.

  What happened, why did you break up? he asks.

  I got ill, and he went travelling, we just drifted apart.

  You still seem really close.

  We are, I say. It’s complicated.

  The waitress comes back with the drinks and takes the food order.

  You and Wendy don’t really get on, do you? says Fabio.

  No, we don’t.

  She said you had a huge fight once about fox hunting.

  Why did she tell you that? It was ages ago.

  She’s probably jealous of your history with Ivan.

  She was going on about neurological damage to boxers, and I said it was more important to ban fox hunting than boxing – I’m not saying boxing’s good, it’s not, it’s horrible, but I have more sympathy for the foxes, that’s all. Foxes don’t have a choice, but Wendy thinks it’s more important to ban boxing.

  Wendy loves to quote studies and statistics, says Fabio. She can get a bit carried away sometimes.

  I’m much more emotional than her, I say. The argument got out of hand.

  I wouldn’t worry about it.

  I’m not. Anyway, how do you know her?

  Swimming club at uni. We just hit it off, been friends for years.

  She came swimming with Ivan and me once, that’s how I met her.

  Do you like swimming?

  I like it, but it’s exhausting.

  I
t’s good for depression, he says.

  I’m not depressed, I reply.

  Sorry, I just meant swimming’s good for depression, that’s all.

  I can’t think of anything to say and panic for a topic. So will you need to go to Skye for work? I ask.

  Not for a while. I’m more on the design side of things. The surveyors are up there just now analysing the rock and soil.

  People take bridges for granted, I say, they don’t think about all the design and planning behind them.

  People take most things for granted, he says.

  We went to Skye when I was wee. It rained the whole weekend, and there was a labrador in the hotel that smelled horrible.

  I hate the smell of dogs, he says. I prefer cats.

  Me too, I say. I would love one, but it’s difficult in a flat. I hate litter trays.

  A tortoise would be easier.

  Tortoises are grotesque, they’re like dinosaurs!

  I had one when I was a kid, he says. I used to polish its shell with olive oil.

  You did not!

  Why’s that so funny?

  I don’t know, it’s just absurd, I say.

  You have such white teeth, he says. They’re amazing.

  My brother’s are really white too.

  This is a porcelain veneer, he says, pinging his front tooth. The tooth’s dead.

  It looks really natural, I say. You can’t tell.

  It’s good, but I’d rather it was real.

  Did you know there are twenty-eight natural shades of tooth, from near white to grey?

  You’re full of eccentric facts.

  My dad’s a dentist, that’s how I know.

  What does your brother do?

  He’s in London, he works with head-injured people. He went to London after graduating.

  I went to London too.

  Why on earth did you come back?

  He blushes. A relationship didn’t work out. I was in a bad way. I stopped work for three months.

  How long were you together for?

  Six years. Since uni.

  Are you still in touch?

  No. I hate her. We were going to buy a flat together and everything, and then she met someone else.

  Must’ve been awful for you.

  It was.

  When did you move back up?

  Two years ago.

  And you’re still at home?

  Yeah. I’m going to get my own place soon. I think my mum enjoys having me around. She’s been lonely since she retired, and I have no brothers or sisters.

  What did she retire from?

  She was a home economics teacher.

  You can’t have much privacy living at home though.

  It works out okay.

  But you can never run about naked and listen to loud music.

  He laughs. I wouldn’t really want to.

  After the pizza, I go to the toilet. I could definitely fancy him – hopefully the golf magazine’s a one-off. I think Wendy has primed him about ME, ‘cos he’s barely mentioned it. I’m surprised that I felt slightly jealous when he mentioned his ex-girlfriend in London. I hope we’ll have a goodnight kiss. When I go to touch up my lipstick, I’m horrified to see I have basil on my teeth.

  He’d walked me to the Underground and we’d kissed. It was nice but strange – a different mouth always is – and I just thanked God I’d intercepted the basil. When I got home, I’d made a list of pros and cons.

  pros cons

  kind had breakdown

  sexy smile leather trims

  makes me laugh golf magazine

  good kisser polished tortoise

  has car says ‘nibbles’

  I felt mercenary including his car, but it was much better to have a boyfriend with a car, no point pretending otherwise. When I told Morag about him, she said, That’s a funny name, I don’t like that name.

  On our third date, he was wearing his padded jacket and I went off him again until he took it off in the cinema and was himself. We saw My Own Private Idaho. I loved it, he hated it. I knew we’d have different taste in films. (His favourite film was Ghost.)

  On the way out, we met Ivan and Wendy in the foyer. I was ecstatic that they weren’t holding hands. Fabio was holding mine. Ivan said he’d loved the film. Wendy was feeling sick because she couldn’t stand the ‘dreadful smell of popcorn’. We were all embarrassed.

  A couple of weeks later, Fabio took me to his house for Sunday dinner. They had a tartan carpet and there were golf clubs and a ginger cat in the hall.

  His mother was tall and brittle. She asked me if I’d tried echinacea. I told her I’d tried everything. It boosts your immune system, dear, she said – I wouldn’t be without it.

  Later, she told Fabio I had a lovely figure and she wanted to make me a skirt. It’s really kind of her, I said, and I thought back to the time I’d crocheted a baby blanket for Zoe and it had been the main thing in my life.

  Summer flew by. I measured out my weeks, saving energy for Fabio: Wednesday was Fabio night, Saturday was Fabio night, Sunday was going to Fabio’s mum’s for dinner.

  By Monday, I was shattered.

  I thought less about Ivan than I’d ever done.

  27

  A Dream About Cocktail Sticks

  MY WRISTS ARE used up with lipstick: the backs of my hands bruised with PLUM, CONGA and BRAZIL. There are too many choices, I can’t decide. The make-up girl’s pressurising me with her vacuous comments.

  I end up with PLUSH PLUM.

  I want to phone Fabio at work and tell him I’m in town, ask him to meet me later. He was really moody at the weekend, like a teenager.

  As the make-up girl wraps the lipstick, all I can think about is dialling him.

  Hey Missy,

  Happy, Happy Birthday! Hope you like the lipstick and it’s not too dark, I spent ages choosing it!

  Thank you for your enquiries about Fabio – yes, he does fold his clothes before sex, but he is a GREAT lover and has an excellent penis, I am pleased to report, hard to believe we’ve been together for four months! His mother is sweet, she made me a lovely skirt, I’ve worn it a couple of times. Am excited, my counselling classes start next week – did you know the counsellor is the constant and the client is the variable?! Ivan’s leaving for SF in two weeks, I’m really fine about it. I’ll give him your tel. number and I’m sure he’ll be in touch once he’s settled. He’s renting his flat to Wendy and another biochemist when he’s gone. Glad things are going well with Kavi, do you really think he is THE ONE? Hope you like the card – I love Modigliani’s women. Fabio said I remind him of one with my green eyes (that are really grey).

  PS. Have you seen that film Bagdad Cafe, I absolutely loved it, I loved the music. Fabio hated it. I drag him to all my films and in return I have to go and see crap with Tom Hanks – please tell me how anyone can like Tom Hanks, his lips are always moist.

  Lots of love,

  Helen xxx

  I’m dreading Ivan leaving. He’s coming over to say goodbye on Wednesday – Fabio night. I’ll tell Fabio I’m not feeling well, I can’t have them clashing.

  We didn’t really know what to say, he gave me a long hug and kissed me on the lips, the kind of kiss that could have led to more. Make sure Fabulous Fabio takes care of you, he said.

  I bet you’ll fall in love with a Californian woman who wants to name her children after herbs, I said.

  I have to go, babe.

  Remember to stand under the doorway if there’s an earthquake.

  Bye, he said. I’ll write, I promise.

  I don’t want you to go.

  He unlaced his fingers from mine.

  A final kiss on the lips.

  Things to do: visit Fizza; find someone to role-play the client in my counselling assignment; birthday present for Rita’s fiftieth.

  Fabio’s being weird. He’s almost annoyed that I can’t have him stay over mid-week anymore. I’ve explained that I need to rest on Wednesdays ‘cos of my classes
on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I wish we didn’t have to go to his mum’s for dinner almost every Sunday, but if I tell him he’ll be offended. I don’t know why he doesn’t just buy a house next door to her.

  pros cons

  good sex moody/lives with mother

  pleasant weekends clicks fingers all the time

  generous got me sheepskin mittens for my birthday

  I feel guilty for not liking the mittens, they are actually lambskin and quite nice, but I feel sorry for the lambs. He also got me perfume and took me for a lovely dinner, but sometimes I am bored, I feel we have nothing to talk about, but I don’t want to be without him.

  I’m obsessed with getting a leather briefcase. A woman in my class has one, she’s a teacher. I’ve been back to look at one twice, but it’s too expensive. I like the way I look carrying it. Very professional. I am so tempted to put it on Visa.

  A Christmas card from Ivan with the Golden Gate Bridge. I put the card up – prominently – in my room for Fabio to see. I’m getting him a black polo neck for Christmas, he looks great in black against his blonde hair. I’ve been invited to his mum’s for New Year dinner. I wonder who Ivan’s spending Christmas with, but I don’t want to ask Jana if she knows.

  Stayed with Fabio for two nights at Hogmanay. He sneaked into my room after the bells. I don’t like their shower, the curtain laps round your legs and clings, and I always feel sad seeing Fabio’s toiletries beside his mum’s. There’s special liquid soap for dry skin.

  Saw the briefcase again in the January sales, it was half price, but I’d got it out of my system, and half price makes you think there’s something wrong with it anyway.

  Got two Valentines, one from Brian and one from Fabio. Fabio’s card had a cute kitten, he doesn’t realise that I hate cute cats. I sent him a Modigliani card.

  I’m a bastard for being so ungrateful. He came over with chocolates and flowers after work. Birthdays are also important to him, he makes a huge effort – I should be pleased.