‘Dan, hi. How’s it going? Is the Time Out bloke here?’ I ask.
Dan nods and points out a man in a shiny brown suit and a spiky haircut. ‘He hasn’t got to my bit yet, that bloody tart Tamara has had him cornered for the last half an hour, bitch.’
I nod mildly and scan the room, looking for familiar faces.
‘What about the girls? Are they here?’ I ask him with some trepidation.
‘Yeah, they’re around here somewhere. Josh has had a panic attack and he’s up in the studio. Panicking. Poor bastard. Fucking shocking about Ayla.’ He contemplates his complimentary bottle of Smirnoff Mule for a few seconds more and then grins at me. ‘Fancy getting off somewhere later?’ he asks with the wholly professional double meaning of a practised lothario.
I smile and shake my head. ‘No, cheers Danny, listen, where’s this studio?’ He takes my offhand rejection with the aplomb of someone who wasn’t really that bothered to begin with and points to the ceiling.
‘Next floor up, there’s a ladder and then you go across the roof and there’s a sky light and …’ It seems you to have to be some kind of climbing expert to get around this place, which I’m not, especially not in these shoes.
‘Is there a conventional way of getting there?’
Dan looks nonplussed, thinks for a moment and then says, ‘Oh yeah, well, you can go downstairs again, it’s next door. Josh’ll buzz you in.’ He burps in my face and then goes off to scout the room for a more likely pulling prospect. I consider both options and my heels and begin my descent of the stairs past the artists once again. There do seem to be an awful lot of them. Josh had better actually be in this flipping studio otherwise the minute I get back Dan’s going off those stairs.
The doorway of the next-door building is in darkness and I can’t see any lights on inside. I press for a long moment the only buzzer I can see. There is no response. Of course, if Josh is depressed or ‘panicky’ as Dan put it, or upset, he might not even bother answering the door. Or he might be next door at the party up the four flights of stairs around some corner I hadn’t managed to get to before Dan sent me on a wild goose chase. I press the buzzer once again, letting my finger play out a monotone version of ‘Can you Feel It?’ The ancient intercom system crackles into life and Josh’s voice erupts into the street. ‘Yes?’ He does not sound happy.
‘Josh, it’s me, it’s Jenny. I … well, can I come and see you?’
‘Oh Jen, sorry I snapped at you. I thought you were some drunk from the party. Come up.’ I wiggle the stiff door until it opens and find myself in a mirror image of the next door’s stairwell except that it is in total blackness.
‘Is there a light?’ I call into a depth of shadows.
‘No, we haven’t got it fixed yet; we tend not to use this entrance. Start up the stairs and I’ll come down and meet you.’
I edge my way up each stair, feeling my way along the wall with my fingertips, listening to Josh’s steady and confident steps as he descends the iron staircase. My eyes gradually adjust to the dark and I see his silhouette loom above me, backlit by the glow of a room a couple of floors above.
‘Here.’ He holds out his hand and I take it, gripping his fingers more tightly than can be considered cool, and follow him up the stairs, enjoying the warm contact with his skin. The ascent is silent save for the sound of our steps on the staircase and our breathing. In the darkness the sensation of the touch of Josh’s fingertips seems even more acute. Once we are in the light of the studio face to face, the easy silence of our stairway odyssey evaporates into awkward silence.
‘So, how have you been?’ I ask with false brightness, blinking under the strip lights. He seems unable to look at me.
‘I’ve been …’ He pauses, and starts again. ‘Well, it’s tough, you know. Sometimes I forget, just for a second, and then I catch myself thinking, wondering, what’s wrong? Why aren’t I happy? And then it all comes crashing back. She’s gone. Then I feel guilty for forgetting for even a moment. And I’ve been meaning to call you to apologise for kissing you, but I haven’t had the guts,’ he adds quickly with a guilty shrug.
The very fact that he mentions kissing me makes my chest tighten.
‘You’ve got nothing to apologise for, and well, the way you’re coping after Ayla, it’s astounding, it really is. Don’t feel guilty, feel proud.’ I gently take a step closer to him, I want to give him a hug but I don’t feel that I can. ‘Is that why you aren’t next door?’ As much as I want to clear up the kiss issue I want to make sure he’s OK first.
‘I can’t face it. Everything I’ve done up to now seems like kids’ stuff, a sham. Nothing about it is real, it’s just stuff I wanked about with in my bedroom. It’s crap. Mum and Dad and the others are down there, standing around trying to understand it, and I can’t face that. I can’t face them pretending they’re proud of something that I’m not.’ He thrusts his hands in his pockets and shakes his head.
As I watch him my throat tightens and my chest constricts. It’s almost unbearable to see him in so much pain. I struggle to find some way to help him. ‘I can understand how you must feel, but you’ve worked really hard on this exhibition. Ayla would have wanted you to be proud of it, especially because you painted it for her. She wouldn’t have wanted her … her death to change the way you feel about your work, except maybe to show you how important it is that you make the most of your talent.’ My voice, bouncing off whitewashed brick walls, sounds full of empty platitudes. Eventually I say, ‘You have to go back for your family if nothing else. Whatever you may think, you have to let them be there for you.’
Finally he tears his gaze away from his trainers and looks at me. ‘I know, you’re right. Thanks for coming by the way; I didn’t think you’d want to, after …’ His eyes return footward once again.
‘Josh, we need to talk about what happened,’ I say, risking a last-minute loss of nerve.
‘Yeah, I know it was inexcusable, I’m so sorry.’ He rubs his hand roughly over the stubble of his shaven head.
‘No, let me speak. I’ve been practising this all day. OK, we kissed. And, well, it was a wonderful kiss.’ I kick myself for this burst of unrehearsed candour, I hadn’t meant to say that. Josh’s eyes suddenly lock on to mine. I regroup myself under their gaze with a huge effort of determination. ‘But it was the wrong time and the wrong place and I was crying and you felt sorry for me and maybe you needed to be close to someone too, but in any case we just sort of collided and Josh, I care about you so much. I really can’t bear for our friendship to suffer because you’re embarrassed about what happened, because it was lovely and you don’t have to be embarrassed. That’s what I wanted to say. We kissed, I don’t regret it, I’m not angry or upset by it but I just want you to know it’s OK and we can just put it behind us and get back to normal. There, I’ve said it.’ His black eyes search my face as if he believes he can find all the words I haven’t been able to say written somewhere on my face.
‘I thought you’d guessed,’ he says, shaking his head in wonder. ‘But even now you don’t have a clue, do you?’
I back away slightly afraid of losing my balance by standing so close to his magnetic pull.
‘What do you mean?’ I say in a whisper, more terrified of what he might not say than of what I hope he might.
‘Jenny, I’m not embarrassed about kissing you. I mean, I am. I’m embarrassed about putting you in that position, but that’s all.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘Don’t you see? Couldn’t you feel how much I wanted you? How much I’ve wanted to kiss you for months, for a very long time.’
I stand still and let the words sink in. Disbelief tightens my throat and I struggle to swallow.
He gives a wry laugh and looks at the ceiling. ‘I know exactly when it happened, last year at some party we were all at, just standing around chatting, the usual, and then you walked into the room, just the Jenny you’ve always been, but suddenly looking at you took my breath away, I wanted to touch you so much. I couldn’t
believe it, one of the few women I really connect with and suddenly the only woman I wanted most in the world. And you were with that twat Owen.’ He shakes his head as if dragging himself back to the present and returns his gaze to me. ‘I shouldn’t have said this. I meant to make things easy for you, but well, nothing ventured nothing gained. Hanging around being your best mate for the last year hasn’t got me very far, has it?’
I smile in wonder, that was going to be my plan.
‘The long and the short of it is that I really want you, Jenny. I want us to be together.’
I look around and quickly find a seat. My head reels and my heart thunders in my ears. He wants me! He. Wants. Me. I shake my head and look at him in wonder. This can’t be happening.
‘Are you OK?’ he asks me anxiously.
My high-pitched laugh bounces off the high ceilings. I nod. ‘You must think I’m so stupid. I thought you fancied Rosie!’
He crosses quickly to stand beside me, and the inches that separate us seem to fizz with our physical proximity. I so want all this to happen now, but more than that I so want to get this right.
‘Josh, I can’t believe everything you’ve just said to me and, well, I think – no, I’m certain – that right now I want you too. Maybe I’ve felt it for a long time and I didn’t realise it but everything that has happened this week has finally made me see it.’ I steel myself. ‘But listen, Josh, it wasn’t the right time for that kiss. Now is not the right time to begin this.’ It takes every effort of my being to speak each word. Josh shakes his head and hunkers down until our faces are level.
‘Is there going to be a right time to kiss me, Jenny?’ he asks, his voice low and soft. I want to say yes, any time starting from now, but I know that rushing into this would be the worst thing that either of us could do. No more telling people what they want to hear, what I want to hear. This is the new me.
‘I don’t know, Josh, I don’t know right now. You mean so much to me. I … I really enjoyed that kiss, believe me. But things have been crazy for the last few weeks. First Owen again, and then, well, you’re going to find out. I got mixed up with someone. It’s over now but it was complicated. He was quite a lot younger than me. I kept it a secret because … well, I don’t know why really. But anyway, what I’m trying to say is, is that I rushed into a “relationship” for all the wrong reasons and people got hurt. I wouldn’t want to do that with you. I …’
I can’t think of a way to tell him how I feel right now, alone with him here. Every part of me is aware of his body: the smell of him, the curves of his neck, his long lean torso under that T-shirt. Every scared and lonely part of me wants to take a step into easy affection, but this is the new me and what if I make the wrong choice again? I won’t do that to Josh.
He leans a little closer to me. ‘Let me get this straight. You’re saying you feel the same way, well, then why not let us enjoy it?’ he asks softly, his finger tracing a line down my forearm, making me shiver with longing.
‘Josh, you know me. You know me better than probably any other man in my life. You know that I have to make some steps forward on my own. I have to get used to being happy to be myself, proud of myself. And I know that you’re hurting and that you can’t see what life will be like past losing Ayla. Neither can I. I know exactly how good it would be to let this happen right now. I mean, Christ, I came up here without a clue about how you felt, and everything you’ve just said is everything I have fantasised about non-stop since the moment we kissed. But for the first time in my life I’m sure about what is right, and this is not the right time for either of us to get into this. If we do this now, we could wreck everything and you mean too much, far too much to me to want to risk that happening. I’m not asking you to wait around for me while I sort myself out, Josh, I’m just saying we need to understand ourselves before we can risk getting involved. I need to try and see myself the way I really am. Not the way Owen, my dad or whoever else has made me see myself.’
A gentle smile softens his lips. I let him pick up the tips of my fingers, causing goose bumps to rise across my arms.
‘Jenny, you don’t have to ask me to wait for you. I’ll wait anyway. I’ve waited through about three break-ups with Owen and two or three rebounds for you to notice me. I’ve waited through this last one. I knew there was someone. There is always someone with you, you’re afraid to be alone. I can already see the you you want to be. I can see the funny, sweet, loyal you. I can see the girl who makes me laugh so much it makes me cry. I can see one of the few people who can reach out to me when I feel so hurt that I just want to curl up and die. One of the few people who care enough about me to even want to try. I can see someone so sexy it blows my socks off, someone who deserves to be loved. I can see you, Jenny. I can see you when you can’t even see yourself. So I’ll wait. Because what you’re saying makes sense and if when you’ve sorted yourself out you can see me the way I see you, then it will have been worth the wait. Just for the chance of being with you.’
Unable to speak, I look into his eyes as he bends his head to mine and gently kisses me. With a huge effort of will my fingers stay passively in my lap and I let the moment pass, sweet and whole. As we part, each of us lets out a deep sigh of frustration and watches the other.
‘Just don’t take too long, OK?’ Josh says softly.
I nod and smile, pressing the palm of my hand against his face before standing abruptly. ‘Come on, we’d better get back to that party before we lose it again.’ I feel unspeakably happy and totally terrified all at once, I need the throng of the party to distance me from the intensity of what has just happened, to let me savour the moment at a distance from it.
‘OK, come on. I’ll take you on the short cut.’ Ten minutes and two scary ladder climbs later I’m back in the heart of the party and he has disappeared into the crowd, true to his word, letting me have my space. My space scares the shit out of me.
‘Jenny, darling!’ Mrs Selin’s call directs me into the crowd and after a few minutes of edging, elbowing and cleavage-stun deployment I find myself standing in Josh’s area of the exhibition. Josh, however, seems to be avoiding the place like the plague and is in close conversation with the girl who was at his house the other day. It’s pretty clear she fancies him.
Everyone is here and when I say everyone I mean even some who I didn’t expect. Rosie is here, having managed to pull together a stunning outfit without ever once returning to the flat, and stands gazing at one of Josh’s paintings, refusing to look in my direction. Jackson nods at me over her head, winks and rolls his eyes. I smile back at him and shrug sheepishly. Mrs Selin, even now, has her arm around my waist and is guiding me towards her smiling emotional husband.
‘Jenny.’ He greets me with a firm hug, plants a paternal kiss on my forehead and releases me towards Selin. Selin is not alone. The tall man from the funeral, the over-attentive uncle or whoever he is, is at her side, his hand resting on her shoulder. I can see the strain of the last week in her eyes, and she stands mutely in the crowd looking frightened and alone with this great shadow of a man hanging over her. This time I go in for a rescue.
‘Excuse me?’ I beam up at him and taking Selin’s elbow I lead her away. She follows compliantly. The tall man rubs his hand over his mouth as he watches her depart.
‘Who is that guy? Are you OK?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, no, I’m not OK. Not really. I’m trying to be OK. We all made Josh go ahead with this, but I feel numb. I … Oh God, Jen, is every day for the rest of my life going to be like this? Shouldn’t I want it to be? Shouldn’t I always want to feel the pain of not having her? I just don’t think I’m strong enough to bear it.’ She keeps her voice calm and low as she stares at me intently and I’m taken aback by her sudden unloading of feeling, restrained as it is. It’s typical of Selin that she refuses to make a fuss in public, even as she mourns her sister. I look across the group and see that the man is still watching us and is preparing to make his way over.
&nbs
p; ‘Come on,’ I say lamely, ‘let’s get drunk.’
Unsurprisingly, Danny is at the bar, now fully bladdered and totally pissed off. ‘The fucker never even gave it a second glance, the fucking fucker. I knew it, I knew I should have been a fucking poet.’ He sticks two fingers up at the departing Time Out Man’s back. He seems to be going over to Josh’s work.
‘Cheer up, Dan, no one liked Van Gogh’s work until he was dead, did they?’
He snorts at me. ‘I don’t want to be famous when I’m dead! I want to be famous now, get minted, get all the chicks and have a restaurant! Bloody formaldehyde, bloody dead cow, and bloody unmade bed. I’ve been doing the flipping unmade bed thing for bloody donkey’s.’ He pouts but is distracted from his tirade by a passing debutante type in a cut-off top.
As we make our escape I hand Selin a bottle of Moscow Mule and I am relieved to see her smile as we return to our group. Just before we rejoin them I stop her and say, ‘Selin, I don’t know, but I think that one day you’ll be able to remember Ayla without the pain. And I don’t think it means that you will love her any the less. Honestly.’
She squeezes my hand and takes a second to compose herself before walking back over to the tall man who has been joined by Josh and her parents, a family group. Who is that man?
At least it’s obvious that Rosie hasn’t yet told her about our fight. I catch Rosie’s eye involuntarily but it seems her curiosity has got the better of her chagrin and she nods at the tall man and raises her eyebrows with a question. I shake my head to show her that I know nothing more about him and our brief truce is over as she sniffs, shoots me a daggers look and turns back to Jackson. I don’t really think it’s that we’re cross with each other. I think it’s that we’re cross with ourselves. No, actually, I am pretty cross with her.
Growing Up Twice Page 31
