Knowing You

by Samantha Tonge

  I stop stroking Luna.

  ‘Vi? What do you reckon?’

  I can hardly speak. ‘Sorry Casey – could I bother you for a glass of water? Luna’s like a hot water bottle.’

  Gratefully I drink from the glass he brings over. ‘It’s… not unheard of. I guess I contacted you about Alien Hearts. Although I was never going to be your personal editor, and the submission process hadn’t started then. Messaging you via Facebook does seem strange if she’s a real contender to work on this book with you.’

  Now there was no questioning the rumours about Beatrix – confirmation as well that those popular social memes were right about people needing to take risks to be successful in life.

  ‘Maybe I should tell my agent.’

  ‘Definitely,’ I say and put down the glass. ‘She’s probably just keen, which is flattering, but you don’t want to come across as unprofessional.’

  We chat about holiday plans. Casey’s always wanted to visit Cuba. This autumn I might visit Mum and Ryan in Spain. My mascara smudges as he makes me laugh. He asks more about Vintage Views and I talk about my friends and how recently I’ve felt as if we have less in common.

  ‘You don’t sound very excited about going out tonight,’ he says.

  ‘To be honest, I wish I could get out of it.’

  Casey finishes the blow dry. ‘You look beautiful. It would be a crime to waste this hair by staying here with me and Luna and eating pizza.’

  I catch his eye and my chest flutters. Regardless of any book deal, I want to get to know this man better.

  Being brave, I ask, ‘Would it be bad of us to cancel our plans?’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with being bad now and again.’

  ‘Are you sure? Although I think there’s something you need to know before we go up to your flat… my favourite pizza is ham and pineapple.’ Lenny used to hate that. He said such toppings were supposed to show imagination but only showed the opposite.

  ‘What do you know? Mine too. I blame my mum. She always drilled into us it was very important to hold onto your differences.’

  ‘My Uncle Kevin believed the same.’

  I take out my purse to pay for the cut and blow. He waves it away. ‘Okay, then takeout is on me.’

  He rings Beatrix. I hear him mutter something about feeling too tired.

  He’s turning down an evening with her to be with me.

  I call Pauline. She can’t hide the disappointment in her voice. But it’s a night for me to put myself first – a concept the old Violet Lenny cheated on would have struggled to comprehend. We go upstairs shadowed by Luna who goes straight to her bowl by the fireplace. Casey lifts up a packet of biscuits next to it and shakes out some of the contents.

  ‘This is lovely,’ I say and study the full bookshelves. A carpet hangs above the mantelpiece. It’s of an elephant and is covered with sequins. The light in the middle of the ceiling doubles as a fan and with sun rays invading the small living room and the African art pieces dotted across the room, I feel as if I’m abroad, somewhere exotic. Casey lights a joss stick and straightens the linen cushions on the compact burgundy sofa.

  ‘It’s home,’ he says and goes into the kitchen. ‘I’ve been lucky enough to travel widely and try to reflect that in the decor. It lends me a sense of freedom that is easy to lose in a city as busy as London.’ The living area is open plan with two rooms leading off it, presumably the bedroom and bathroom. He pulls open the fridge door and takes out a bottle of wine. ‘Chardonnay or would you prefer a cup of tea?’

  ‘Wine would be great. Thanks.’ I feel nervous. We’re alone for the first time, not in a cocktail bar or park or salon. All I can think of is the way his hands massaged my head. Legs feeling shaky, I stand up and walk over to the kitchen. The words Shrinking Violet tease me in my head.

  What would Bella do?

  This isn’t a difficult question to answer. She’s the woman who stood up to her parents at eighteen and told them university wasn’t for her. She’s backpacked around Thailand – that trip widened her interest in wellbeing. Bella takes charge.

  It’s time I became more assertive in all areas of my life.

  I take the bottle from him and place it on the work surface behind.

  Is this a mistake? Should I sit and chat with him first?

  No. The new me wastes no time in chasing her goals. She doesn’t react, she acts.

  And there’s just something about his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the richness of his voice… there’s a chemistry between us that makes me feel like I’m about to explode.

  Our lips part. Casey’s hands trail the zip down my back. He intoxicates me. Casey steps back and stares into my eyes. He curls his fingers around mine. I lead him into the living room. He looks towards a door – behind which is his bedroom, I presume – and back at me. I nod. We’re in there within seconds and he pulls back the slate grey duvet. I smile as we kiss again and drape my arms around his neck. Clumsily I pull him downwards and we fall against the soft sheets.

  With a building sense of urgency, I tug his shirt out of his jeans and undo the buttons. I inhale his smell. It’s heady and masculine. It drives my hands over his bare chest. I imagine his doing the same to me.

  But what if experienced Casey tears away the packaging and recognises that the real me is a frumpy misfit? What if I don’t come across as worldly-wise as an attractive woman should?

  Since when did sex become so angst-ridden? Now there are expectations to meet. I’d never really appreciated before how in some ways, it used to be easier just being me. What you saw was what you got. That left no room for disappointment.

  I push him away instead of the negative thoughts.

  ‘Vi?’ He sits up. His breathing is laboured.

  ‘I’m sorry, Casey. I can’t… you see—’

  He brushes dyed blonde locks out of my face. ‘I guess we are rushing things.’ He runs a finger over my lips. ‘Perhaps we should have stuck to pizza instead.’

  I wish the duvet would swallow me whole. It didn’t take much to persuade him to stop. My fears are right. I don’t turn him on.

  ‘Ham and pineapple?’ he says and tucks in his shirt.

  I jump up and slip my shoes back on.

  ‘No, no, sorry – actually I ought to go to Pauline’s meal. I feel bad for letting her and the others down.’

  Casey rubs the back of his head. ‘Right. Okay. You’re sure?’

  I give him a quick kiss on the cheek without meeting his gaze. Feeling like an inexperienced teenager, I hurry outside and put my sunglasses on. Vision blurred, I almost collide with someone walking towards the salon. It’s Beatrix, carrying takeout and a wine bottle.

  2001

  It’s Friday. Bonfire Night. The fun snaps are in my lunch box. I tried one out yesterday after school in the back garden just to be sure they were still working. I didn’t notice poor Flossie. Her fur stood on end and she bolted. I called her back and said not to be frightened and snuck a handful of cat biscuits out of the kitchen, as biscuits always make me feel better.

  Science goes on forever. It’s the last lesson before we go into the dining hall. I grab my box and drinking bottle. A group of boys still make raspberry noises when I pass. As we queue up Alice sees me and talks in a really loud voice about the party she is going to tonight. That’s what I don’t get – I’m a nobody to her, so why does she bother trying to make me jealous?

  It doesn’t work anyway. I’ve got Flint now, and a couple of people I speak to in recorder group on a Wednesday after lunch. We file into the hall. Mrs Crawley the dinner lady is telling off a boy. We all strain to look. He’s dropped something into one of the water jugs. It’s white and swollen with a thread of string hanging out underneath like a firework.

  ‘Do you know what a tampon is, Violet?’ asks Alice and it’s as if the whole class has stopped to hear my answer. I can tell from their faces that most of them don’t but they’re glad if I’m the one who’s going to be made to look stupid.
Luckily I know. I found a box of them once in Mum’s bedroom and asked her.

  ‘They are sweets for adults, made of really tough marshmallows. You can’t eat them with baby teeth.’

  Alice starts laughing. Everyone joins in, although they don’t look as if they are sure why.

  ‘You’re a dumb fuck,’ she whispers.

  Sometimes Alice says really rude words. She reckons they are cool because her brother uses them.

  Annoying tears spring to my eyes as everyone laughs and sits down to eat. Half the class queue up for hot dinners, including Alice.

  I wait. Wait until she walks back towards the table. As she passes me, my fists uncurl and I reach into the fun snap box under the table on my lap. I have a quick look around and then throw three of them hard at her feet. Flint says one is too risky as it might not go off.

  I needn’t have worried about that.

  Alice shrieks and tips her tray towards herself. I’m glad it’s a messy meal. Gravy splats against her dress.

  ‘It’s hot!’ she yells.

  Mrs Crawley hurries over and in front of everyone quickly unbuttons her shirt. The boys laugh at her brown-stained bra and Georgie grabs a glass of water and throws it at Alice’s chest. She howls and starts to cry. Mrs Warham appears and tells the boys to stop laughing. Mrs Crawley leads Alice away.

  ‘Who did this?’ she says in her sternest voice, which she normally keeps for children who copy each other during tests.

  I stare at my apple. No one replies. If my heart thumps any louder, she’ll surely hear and know it’s my fault.

  I almost sigh with relief as I hear Mrs Warham start to walk away.

  ‘It was Violet.’ I stare harder at my apple. Georgie’s voice sounds defiant. ‘I’m no snitch but Alice is my friend, she was really frightened and she might have got hurt.’

  My knees start to shake.

  ‘Violet?’ asks Mrs Warham in a voice that doesn’t believe what it’s heard.

  ‘It wasn’t me. It wasn’t,’ I say.

  ‘We’ll discuss this in the classroom. Follow me immediately.’

  I push down the lid onto my lunch box and stand up. I’d forgotten about the fun snaps box. It falls to the floor. Mrs Warham picks it up.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault. Flint told me to do it,’ I say. I feel bad but Flint doesn’t even go to this school so he won’t get into trouble.

  ‘Who’s Flint? A nickname for someone here?’

  ‘No. He’s my friend.’

  ‘Shrinking Violet doesn’t have any friends,’ says Georgie and the others laugh.

  ‘Silence!’ Mrs Warham looks my way with icy eyes. ‘Come with me.’

  I follow and wonder if I’ll throw up my sandwich. We enter the classroom and she closes the door. She says she knows Alice can be difficult but that my actions were dangerous. Alice could be badly burnt. I don’t know what to say. If she knows Alice is horrid, why doesn’t she do something about it? But she’s too cross for me to ask, as is Mum.

  ‘I knew that Flint was trouble,’ says Mum as we get in the house. When she picked me up, we had to go into the head mistress’s office. I’m not allowed to go back into school until a vestigashun has been done. ‘He’s not coming around to tea anymore. You’re to stop seeing him. I don’t want to hear his name ever again.’

  ‘He was only trying to help. Alice has been nasty since I started that stupid school, saying things about Uncle Kevin. She thought he was your boyfriend.’

  Mum sits down at the kitchen table. She reaches out an arm and pulls me close.

  ‘Don’t you understand how serious this is? You are very lucky Alice’s burns are superficial. You could have got into a lot of trouble if they were worse.’

  ‘But she hurts me every day. Mrs Warham has given up doing anything. It’s as if Alice and her friends being mean to me has just become part of school life like assembly or morning break. It’s not fair. At least Flint is on my side.’

  ‘So am I,’ says Mum gently. ‘Look, I’ll have a word with the school; see if we can sort this out.’ She gives me a hug. ‘But I can’t let this go unpunished. You can forget sparklers and bangers and mash tonight. I want you in bed early. I want you to think about how two wrongs don’t make a right.’

  ‘She says Uncle Kevin was a jumper. It’s because of her I have those nightmares.’

  Mum’s face tightens. ‘Just go to your room, Violet. I’ll bring up beans on toast later on, but no cake or ice cream.’

  ‘It’s Friday!’

  ‘Bad luck. I feel very disappointed.’

  Legs feeling heavy, I snatch my bag off the floor and head upstairs.

  I hate Alice.

  I hate school.

  I hate my life.

  Flint is the only good thing apart from Flossie.

  Whatever Mum says, there’s no way I’m going to stop seeing him.

  Chapter 21

  I wake up the next morning at a quarter to seven. I turn off my alarm clock that is due to ring in fifteen minutes. I glance at my phone. There are no messages from Casey. He’s probably still wrapped up with Beatrix. I shower, get changed and head out of the building. It’s a beautiful sunny day.

  The trouble is, I can’t force myself onto the pavement and route into the office. My legs simply won’t move that way. I sit down on the bench, next to the wooden bird table. I don’t have many scraps for it lately. I often used to cover it, on the way to work, with a crushed stale scone or bread crusts. I lean back as the last blossom petals float down like hesitant confetti.

  ‘Violet? Everything okay?’ says Bella, looking super fit in her spa uniform and bouncy ponytail. She’s out of breath. ‘I forgot my purse. How are you feeling?’

  ‘I can’t believe what an idiot I was, running away just at the moment Casey and I were about to get really close. Thanks for listening to me last night. I didn’t even ask how your date went.’

  She sits down next to me and squeezes my shoulder. ‘Violet…there’s still over a week until the party. We aren’t giving up yet.’

  ‘What’s the point of carrying on? I’ve been kidding myself.’

  She insists I stand up, and marches me over to look in front of a window straight ahead. ‘Compared to your average Joe that comes into the spa, you look great. But I promised that I’d make you look like an A-lister and there are still a couple of areas we could improve. Don’t be weak like the old you. Get a grip, Violet, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I haven’t spent weeks getting you into shape for you to lose your nerve at the last minute.’

  Harsh words. Perhaps I need to hear them. I look at her determined face and nod. Bella’s not one to abandon a project.

  ‘Let’s combine the jogging with some fitness DVDs. And I watched an amazing show last night on top lingerie models. There was some serious ribcage bragging going on and they did look amazing. Taut. Slick. Not an ounce of flesh to spare. To me, that’s perfection.’

  Was it? I bit my lip. Hadn’t I done enough already? Did I really need to go that far?

  Bella must have sensed my hesitation and squeezed my arm. ‘It represents someone who is ultra disciplined and prepared to do whatever it takes to get what they want in life. It’s no different to Daniel Craig following his rigid regime to get in shape to play James Bond. Success is only achieved by working bloody hard. It won’t be handed to you on a plate – certainly not a full one. My parents never supported my career ambitions. They said a degree was worth far more than a beauty qualification. But I’ve gritted my teeth and showed them I could make a success of my passion. We get on well now. They’ve even told me how proud they are of the direction my life’s taking.’

  She’s right. I’m a fool for thinking otherwise.

  We sit down again. A blue tit lands on the bird table and cocks its head before pecking at a lump of cake.

  ‘You already fit my clothes, Violet. You’ve got used to wearing contacts and drink so much water you’re almost under threat of being overhydrated. I’m so proud that yo
u’ve come this far but please, don’t disappoint me. I don’t want to lose respect for the woman I’ve become so fond of.’

  ‘Don’t worry. And I’m grateful for how far you’ve got me.’

  She stands up. ‘Come on. Let’s walk down the road together.’

  ‘I just can’t face going in today. Farah won’t give up – she was trying to push chocolate on me yesterday. Irfan’s cross at the way I spoke to her, but why should I be bullied into eating something I don’t want?’

  ‘You know what? Take the day off work, then.’ Her voice becomes softer and she rubs my back. She always seems to know exactly what to say. ‘Farah and Irfan don’t understand you. Not like I do. Take a day to get your head together again. It’s not as if you regularly ring in sick.’

  ‘I never have. Not once.’ What a mug. I bet Beatrix did if she’d still got a lover in bed or had been partying too hard.

  ‘Whatever you think, it sounds to me as if Casey is really into you. Why don’t you text and arrange another date?’

  I don’t meet her eye. She gives me a hug. Says she’s proud of me for sticking with the programme.

  Bella’s a great friend. In fact... she’s my best. No one understands me quite like her. We say goodbye and with a sigh I drag myself back indoors and am about to take the stairs up to my flat when the lift opens.

  ‘Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?’ says Kath as she walks up to me.

  I take out my keys. ‘I’m not going in today. I wasn’t well last night. It was optimistic getting up early and changed. In fact, I must ring Irfan. Have a good day.’ I hurry up the stairs. A wave of relief washes over me as I close my flat door behind me and sink onto the sofa. I text Irfan.

  Not well. Apologies. Hopefully in tomorrow. Violet.

  He replies.

  Thank you for letting me know. I’ll try to smooth things over with Felicity.

  Irfan didn’t sign off with his name or ask what was wrong or wish me well getting better.