Entangled (18 page)

‘I couldn’t stop myself. I just kept cutting.’ Sal was still shaking her head; I was clearly going to have to do better than that. ‘It made me feel better … I’m sorry.’

‘
Sorry?!
Jesus, Grace, do you have any idea how wrong that sounds? How can cutting into your own flesh, making horrific scars all over your body … how can that possibly make you feel
better
?’ Sal’s voice got louder as she continued, ‘Do you ever think about how
I
feel? I worry about you
all
the time.’

I was taken aback by her outburst. I thought we’d got over the whole cutting thing. It was just something I did. As normal to me as brushing my teeth or filing my nails.

‘There’s no need to worry. I’ve got it under control.’

Sal snorted with derision. ‘Yeah, course you have. Looks that way to me. This is the very picture of control.’ She picked up a blood-spotted pillow and brought it so close to my face that I thought for a mad split second that she was going to try to smother me.

Now
I
was getting annoyed – my mood slowly but surely ratcheting up to meet hers. I grabbed the pillow out of her hands. ‘Give it a rest, Sal. Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.’ She looked surprised. Clearly she hadn’t expected me to talk back. She really should have known better.

She took a deep breath. ‘Right, that’s it. I have to go.’

‘What? Why? Aw, come on! Don’t be like that. I was only messing – sarcasm really suits you.’ I attempted a smile.

‘This isn’t a joke, Grace. I’m going. I just don’t know what to say to you right now.’ She turned her back on me.

I jumped up from the bed and put myself between Sal and the door. ‘Look, I’m sorry. Please don’t go. Can’t we talk about this?’

‘I’m sorry too.’ Sal shook her head as she neatly sidestepped me. ‘But there’s nothing else to talk about. You can’t go on like this. You know that, don’t you? If something happened to you, I’d never be able to forgive myself. Try to put yourself in my shoes … I’ve tried to understand … but this? This is too much for me to deal with right now.’

‘Sal, I …’

‘Just think about it. Promise me that,’ she said, back to her usual, gentle self all of a sudden. I nodded. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, OK?’ She gently touched my shoulder, before leaving the room.

Another mute nod from me and then she was gone. The second time I’d been abandoned in the past twenty-four hours. I threw myself down on the bed and the tears came all too easily. After a minute or so the smoke alarm began to beep.
The bacon. Fuck
.

I lay in bed that night, under a fresh, over-starched duvet cover, mulling over the colossal pile of crap that my life had become. Trying to work out how (or if) I could make it all OK again.

Eventually I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and fired off two text messages in quick succession:

‘I’m sorry. Things are going to change from now on – I promise. Love you.’

‘I’m sorry (again!). I want to fix this. I love you.’

Subtly different, but basically the same message to the only two people I cared about.

I slept badly, my head a tangle of nightmares and dark thoughts. Every time I woke up, I checked my phone for messages, feeling more and more wretched. Finally, at about 3 a.m., I had to accept that neither of them was going to reply – at least not until morning. I tried not to think about what that might mean.

day 28

Ethan’s skin feels cold and clammy. His skin looks paler too, with an almost blueish tinge. That can’t be good. Last night I lay down beside him, pulling the duvet over us both. I lay my hand on his chest, so that I could feel it rise and fall, rise and fall, trying to reassure myself that everything would be OK as long as it kept doing just that.

This morning I woke up with my head resting where my hand had been the night before. His breathing hadn’t changed. I got up and stretched. I feel … well, I feel good. Strong and vital. I haven’t eaten for two days, but I’m not hungry. Not even a little bit. That can’t be normal.

I know what I have to do. I’ve never been so certain of anything.

I have to finish what I started.

I just hope there’s time.

Sal was as good as her word. She called at lunchtime and told me she hadn’t got my message until that morning – something about turning her phone off cos she was so knackered. Our voices stumbled over one another’s as we both tried to apologize. I promised not to cut again. I sat and watched myself in the mirror – watched myself lie to her. Sal was upset, even crying at one point. She kept on insisting that
she
was the one who should be apologizing. It was weird, but I figured she was just hormonal.

Nat didn’t answer his phone the first couple of times I tried him. I didn’t leave a message. I watched some crap on MTV, trying my best to concentrate on the trials and tribulations of some indistinguishable blonde chicks: Heidi/Lauren/Blah/Whoever.

After an hour, I took a deep breath and tried Nat again. One ring, two, three, four, five and then he answered. I couldn’t tell much from his ‘hello’, apart from the fact that he seemed a bit out of breath.

‘Hi, it’s me.’ Suddenly I had no idea what I wanted to say.

‘Hi, you.’

I took heart from the fact that he hadn’t hung up on me straight away. ‘Can we meet up? I really need to talk to you.’ Somehow I managed to refrain from begging.

‘Grace, I … OK. Where do you want to meet?’

YES!
There was still a chance, however slim it might be. We arranged to meet in a pub round the corner from the one where he worked. I chose to meet him there for three reasons: there was no danger of anyone we knew being there; it would be practically deserted at this time of day; and there would be alcohol.

I arrived early and ordered a vodka and Coke to settle my nerves. I tried to sip my drink in a nonchalant yeah-I’m-perfectly-happy-drinking-by-myself-in-the-middle-of-the-afternoon way. The barman looked over from time to time. It was sort of annoying. I crunched the ice cubes; the cold made my teeth tingle. I checked the time on my phone, again and again. Nat was late – nothing new there. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe he wouldn’t show up. What if he’d changed his mind?

No. He wouldn’t do that to me. He was different from all the others. And that’s exactly why I loved him.

But there was something to be said for the simplicity of a meaningless relationship. You’re far less likely to get hurt. You move on to the next one, memories already beginning to fade before you’ve even scrubbed away the smell of him in the shower. Apathy is the key. And so what if that apathy dooms the ‘relationship’ (if you can even call it that) to failure from the very start? Shrug your shoulders because you don’t know any better – it’s all you’ve ever known. It’s all you’re good for anyway.

I shook myself and checked the time AGAIN. God, I hoped Nat arrived soon. These thoughts were not helping. I downed the rest of my drink and quickly headed to the bar for another. I didn’t want Nat to see that I was already on my second one. I settled myself back down and continued to watch the door.

It had started raining outside, and people were rushing past, shoulders hunched against the weather. A couple of guys in suits hurried by, trying in vain to shield their expensive haircuts with newspapers. The door opened and an old man in a tweed suit trundled in with a scruffy little dog at his feet. He left his huge rainbow-coloured golf umbrella by the door. The dog shook himself vigorously and water flew everywhere. It was cute, if you like that sort of thing.

I was so distracted by the dog that I didn’t even notice Nat until he was halfway across the room. I gave him a little wave that made me feel stupid the moment I’d done it. He nodded, saw that I’d already got a drink, and detoured towards the bar. I watched him as he ordered his pint, smoothing back his damp hair, then nervously tapping his fingers on the bar. He’d ordered a Guinness, which took aaaaaaages. I just wanted to speak to him, to look in his eyes and get some kind of clue as to how this was going to go.

And then he was sitting in front of me, looking incredible.

‘Hey.’ A solid start from me, I thought.

‘Hey.’ Right back at me. Eye contact.
My heart hurts
.

‘So …’ I wasn’t sure how to start. I really should have practised what I was going to say, but then maybe I’d have come across as being insincere. Nat said nothing and took a sip from his pint.

I tried again. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

He nodded, but still said nothing.

‘Nat, I hate myself for how I acted. There’s no excuse. I get angry way too easily – always have. Just ask Sal.’ I silently kicked myself for mentioning her. ‘Do you think … maybe we could get past this?’

He looked at me for a few seconds. His eyes seemed more blue than ever, and that made me want to cry. ‘Grace, I don’t know—’

Something in his tone of voice scared me. It sounded detached, and somehow final. So I interrupted. ‘I can’t lose you. Not now.’ I could feel the tears getting ready to flow, so I took a sip of vodka to try and distract them.

Nat shook his head. ‘I don’t know if this can work.’ He gazed into his Guinness as if it held all the answers. A liquid Magic 8-Ball.

‘It
can
work. It
is
working. Well, it was until the other night. And I’ve said I’m sorry. I love you. You know that, don’t you?’ The desperation in my voice was painful.

He nodded, somewhat reluctantly. ‘But maybe it’d be better for both of us if we just …’ He wouldn’t look at me.

‘Just what?’ Even though I knew full well what he was trying to say.

‘If we … ended things.’ He looked up sheepishly to gauge my reaction.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate extra hard on the logo on Nat’s T-shirt – anything to stop the tears. Silence stretched out between us. A tear escaped and trickled down my face, tickling my cheek in an especially irritating way, but I did nothing to halt its progress. It dripped onto the table in front of me.
Stupid, disobedient tear
.

‘Grace, please don’t cry.’

‘I’m not crying!’
Yeah, right
. ‘I don’t understand why you’re saying this. I love you, and I thought … well, you said you loved me. Did you even mean it?’

‘It’s not that simple.’ Again with the sheepish look.

‘I think it is. I don’t want to lose you over this. Things were good. I mean, they were, weren’t they?’ He nodded, which gave me the tiny bit of encouragement I needed to carry on. ‘Please give me another chance? Give
us
another chance.’

He was shaking his head again, so I let the full extent of my desperation show. ‘I need you. I don’t know how I’d cope …’ It was true, but it felt wrong saying it – like it was cheating somehow.

Nat reached out for my hand. ‘Shh, don’t say that. You’d be better off without me.’ His voice was soft and he looked troubled.

‘How can I possibly be better off without you? I don’t just go around telling random boys that I love them, you know. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it scares me. But I thought … I
think
we could have a future together. Don’t you?’

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ He looked so unhappy, but I definitely detected the first hint of doubt in his voice.
Maybe this isn’t a lost cause after all
.

‘You think
this
isn’t hurting me? I know this can work. Just give it a chance – that’s all I’m asking for.’ I reached out to hold his other hand. I wasn’t going to let go. If I could hold on tight enough then maybe I wouldn’t drown.

He sighed and looked deep into my eyes. I blinked away another round of tears and willed him to say the right thing. I hoped and wished and willed with every fibre of my being, praying that the positive vibes would flow through my fingertips from my body to his.

This was it.
Everything
rested on his next few words.

Ethan’s getting colder, I think. I lay down next to him and tried to warm his body with mine. It didn’t work. I fell asleep.

I dreamed we were back in the park, sitting on the swings. There was an empty gin bottle on the ground next to me. Ethan was swinging back and forth, back and forth. He looked all blurry and I couldn’t work out why. Was I drunk? Or was he moving so fast I couldn’t focus on him?

I heard his voice inside my head, but it sounded like my voice too. ‘Keep going, Grace. You’re so close.’

I woke up feeling sort of good. Sort of right.

Nat said yes. He was willing to give it a go.

‘Really?’ I asked in a small voice. I didn’t want to make any sudden movements or loud noises. Slow and quiet.

‘Yes, let’s do this.’ He didn’t look
entirely
convinced, but I was sure that was only temporary. I was going to prove to him that he’d made the right decision.
I will be the best girlfriend ever
.

‘I do care about you, Grace. Never forget that.’

I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed it gently. ‘I know you do.’ I paused, considering my words carefully. ‘Do you want to … do you want to come back to mine? Mum’s not back till tomorrow.’ All of a sudden I felt shy.

Nat shook his head. ‘I can’t – I have to get back to work. I’m only on my break.’ He lifted our entwined hands from the table so he could look at his watch. ‘In fact … I’m late as it is. I’m really sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it – it’s fine.’
Liar
.

He let go of my hands and downed the rest of his drink. I did the same, just to mask my disappointment. ‘Right, let’s go. I’ll walk with you.’